| A prophetic vision of the social upheaval |
At Theatr Clwyd |
| Clwyd Theatr Cymru- An Inspector Calls , Taliesin Arts Centre Swansea , October 25, 2006 |
J.B. Priestley's allegorical tale of a wealthy and privileged family whose cosy existence is shattered when they are accused of playing a part in a young girl's suicide can be interpreted in a variety of ways, though it is fairly clear that Priestley himself - a died-in-the-wool socialist who railed against social and political injustice in all its forms - intended the play as a prophetic vision of the social upheaval which would follow in the wake of the First World War.Director Barry Kyle's programme notes for this production from Theatr Clwyd Cymru begin with references to speed cameras, the internet and paranoia directed towards Muslims - the kind of fashionable bandwagons upon which contemporary theatre directors inevitably clamber whenever they want to make classic works "relevant" to modern audiences. On this occasion, however, Kyle's references are highly appropriate and the parallels more than hold water. So much for the theory, then - what about the execution? The performances from the seven-strong cast are excellent, with Robert Blythe taking centre stage as smug Northern industrialist Arthur Birling and Aaron Cass as a curiously youthful and long-haired Inspector Goole, whose unforgivingly accusatory manner is at odds with his physical appearance(interestingly, his "geek chic" style overcoat gives him a look not dissimilar to that of David Tennant's Doctor Who, while the character's relish in shattering the family's complacency is uncannily reminiscent of moments during the Doctor Who episode entitled The Idiot's Lantern, in which a blusteringly cruel family patriarch has his authority undermined by a visit from an irreverent Time Lord). Elizabeth Counsell(Sybil), Dennis Herdman(Eric), Daniel Llewelyn-Williams(Gerald), Charlotte Gray-Jones(Edna)and Rosanna Lavelle (who amusingly employs the "flapping wrist" technique so beloved of unsuccessful X Factor entrants, whereby they flap their hands in front of their faces in a bid to suppress their tears)all fare splendidly throughout this demanding and incredibly wordy piece, which calls upon them to dabble their toes very slightly in the waters of physical theatre as well as more conventional stagecraft. The most obvious visual incongruity arises from the clash between Martin Bainbridge's stark, modernist and determinedly minimalist set - which could easily have been inspired by the cult TV series The Prisoner - and the richly detailed period costumes. One assumes that this decision has been taken to avoid a strictly "literal" approach and to allow scope for the frills and fancies which are now employed in so many touring productions, from mechanical effects to video projections, both of which figure prominently here. The fact that much of the action - such as it is in a play where there is so much to hear but so little to see - takes place upon a raised set necessitates a good deal of physical "business"(skipping up and down stairs etc)to provide the odd bit of visual interest and prevent the production from becoming too static, while sequences in which the set revolves elicit wry smiles in those of us who are old enough to remember the closing credits of Sunday Night at the London Palladium. The closing moments provide a glimpse into what lies in wait not only for the Birlings but also for British society in general during the early years of the 20th century. I for one do not intend to spoil the surprise for those who have yet to see it, but be warned: if you happen to be sitting in the front row, you might like to brace yourself. |
Reviewed by: Graham Williams |
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