UNCLE VANYA

UNCLE VANYA

Marlborough Dramatic Club at the Memorial Hall, Brentwood School

08.04.17

Michael Frayn's neat English version – Gambon its first Vanya, I believe – fits four acts into an audience-friendly couple of hours; even slicker in William Wells' production, with all the action set in the garden of Serebryakov's dacha.

The sombre mood is set before lights down – the samovar, Jean Morgan's nanna Marina knitting, Astrov reading. And at the end, the final moments of tearful optimism, as those left behind prepare to live out their wretched lives.

A compelling Vanya from Darren Hannant, his untidy idler contrasting with his smartly suited friend Dr Astrov [Gavin Leary]. Sara Thompson is the plain, unloved Sonya, her clumsy attempt at seduction one of several moving moments. The elegant Yelena, the professor's young second wife, is stylishly done by Juliette Bird. Good support from an equally stylish Margaret Corry as Vanya's mother, and Harry Morrison as the pathetic, desiccated Telegin.

This polished production has many telling moments: an impressive entrance through the audience for the “great scholar” [Keith Morgan] and his party, the carefully plotted trio that begins Act Three, the dramatic impetus sustained right through to Yelena's soliloquy, Vanya's rant, and his desperate disillusionment in a speech which he starts slumped with his back to the audience.

TOM AND VIV

TOM AND VIV

Marlborough Dramatic Club at Brentwood School

24.10.15

Fifty years after the poet T S Eliot died, the Marlborough have revived this fascinating piece by Michael Hastings, tracing the tragic story of his disastrous marriage to Vivienne Haig-Wood.

There are two dozen separate scenes, and Vernon Keeble-Watson's production does not entirely overcome the loss of impetus that implies. The use of music at the start is inspired, but alas not sustained through the many black-outs and scene changes.

None-the-less, it is a polished production, with superb period costumes, and a stunning central performance from Sara Thompson as Viv, the spirited governess who sets her cap at the poet from St Louis; her body, though, is prey to many infirmities, and her mind “goes into unreason”. Thompson carefully delineates her decline as the decades pass; a moving and entirely credible depiction.

Her Tom is Tim Murphy, who suggests the social and sexual ineptitude of the very private poet who spends much of his honeymoon alone under Eastbourne pier. Though I had imagined a more desiccated, more patrician character.

The sadly mismatched pair are surrounded by some excellent supporting actors. Shealagh White as Viv's despairing mother, brave face and refined tone. Craig Whitney – oddly reminiscent of Eliot facially – plays her affable but obtuse brother, and Vikki Luck is Louise, the girl from the pharmacy who remains loyally at the sick woman's side and also carries some of the narration.

There are many marvellous moments: Viv's larky, flaky approach to life and love – Gert and Daisy, Ethel Le Neve, chocolate – the soliloquy in St Peter's Church, the “ace” [offstage] party of decadence and dropped names from the literary set, the whoopee cushions. Some scenes are very short – a table is brought on for a bridge game lasting seconds, a splendid plate camera for a hasty portrait.

An intriguing exploration of the private life of a great artist, but chiefly an unflinching study of “moral insanity”, class conflict and the breakdown of a marriage. Hardly anything, though, is said about her claims to be the poet's muse, catalyst for the disillusion and despair of the Waste Land...