There's something fitting about the fact that Volcano Theatre have been forbidden, after a wrangle with the Coward estate, from publicising the fact that their current show is a production of Noel Coward's Private Lives. On one hand, it's infuriating to have to describe the show only as "a Volcano classic". On the other, at least the enigmatic title helps avoid the rage, disappointment, misery and angst that this production would no doubt cause to traditional Coward fans.
For what Volcano are offering, in their famous physical theatre style, is a rip-roaring, stereotype-smashing, mind-blowing deconstruction of Coward's text, which cuts straight through the play's traditional veneer of highly polished 1930s elegance to the raw cat-fight of sexual desire, jealousy and antipathy at its core. Set against a scruffy background of bleak frosted-glass booths like a prison or an asylum, it essentially grafts the roaring, sparkling material of Coward's text on to a background that reeks of the world of 2001, the music, the clothes, the body language, the knowledge of sexual violence, and the sleazy Big Brother culture of sexual boredom and voyeurism.
It toys with the shifting identities of the four lovers, occasionally dwells with a shuddering chill on the play's intimations of mortality, and suggests - through the forlorn, ever-present figures of the abandoned Victor and Sybil - that betrayal in love is not really a joke and can truly drive vulnerable people mad.
Why all this works so well is hard to say. Perhaps it's that the brittle sexual decadence of Coward's affluent characters has more in common with our own time than we think. Perhaps it's because this production has the nerve to bring to the surface the brutality and madness present at the core of this play; perhaps it's because the production never loses its sense of humour, its feeling for the sheer vibrancy of Coward's lines. But at any rate, it's a thrilling and thought-provoking experience, featuring terrific performances from Paul Davies and Fern Smith as Elyot and Amanda; catch its final performance today. |
