Pinter Four: Not quite hitting the standard
Despite witty dialogue and some great performances, key weaknesses let down this staging of two Pinter one-act plays.
If you had taken the advice that ended our five-star review of Pinter Two three weeks ago, you would have rushed to buy tickets to one of the shows in this series. Pinter Three, also reviewed in this issue, lives up to this but in Pinter Four we find that not all scripts are created equal and when the balance of plot and dialogue are misjudged, both playing and directing becomes a minefield.
The first of the two plays, Moonlight, struggles to find its tone. It is fundamentally an exploration of death and family. Besides the haunting monologues from wide-eyed and moonlight-cloaked Bridget (Isis Hainsworth) that begin and end the play, the stage is centered around the bed of Andy (Robert Glenister) as he lies dying. The curtains remain half-open and the boxed set, complete with verbally-sparring married couple Andy and Bel (Brie Brennan), initially feels like a slightly dated multi camera sitcom. – complete with various family members and affiliates crossing through the stage, all supposedly in different places or times.
There are some standout moments. Janie Dee delivers a number of fantastic speeches as Maria, ex-lover of both Andy and Bel, fully embracing the characteristic snappiness of Pinter’s writings. Once up and running, most of the issues disappear. Glenister is captivating once Andy shifts from nonchalance and anger to crisis and collapse. The two brothers, Jake and Fred (Al Weaver and Dwane Walcott), who appear as cut-scenes, by halfway are dealing out lyrical and absurd dialog in perfect Pinteresque fashion. It’s just a shame that it doesn’t begin so.
Night School, the second play, shifts the focus to the theme of deception in everyday life. Still filled with Pinterness, this play doesn’t shine for its plot. Walter (Al Weaver), fresh out of prison, tries, exaggerating his crimes, to seduce Sally (Jessica Barden), a PE teacher, supposedly studying at night school but in fact working at a nightclub. Solto (Glenister again), a stingy and narcissistic ex-criminal, who fakes being a poor pensioner to evade taxes, enters the competition for Sally’s hand. Within this bland frame Walter’s two aunties uplift the mood with their peanut-gallery commentary, giving some Pinteresque flavour to the whole situation.
Fortunately the Jamie Lloyd Company succeeded in turning what could have been a forgettable experience, into an opportunity for experimentation with minimalist staging. Originally conceived for television, its script doesn’t describe much of the setting. The director Ed Stambollouian undertakes this challenge with some interesting and risky stylistique decisions. On stage is the bare bones of what could be a room: a gargantuan cubic frame is at its centre, creating various layers where the action takes place. The brilliant Abbie Finn, always present in the background, plays on a drum kit, beating the action, and giving a hysteric twist to the transitions between the scenes. Jon Clark’s lighting design is magnificent, bringing into life the actors’ actions, and perfectly marrying the drum’s rhythms. Stambollouian successfully amalgamates contemporary and more traditional theatre, bringing some refreshing courage to the West End.
Pinter Four is definitely an enjoyable show. Maybe not as life-changing as others, but nonetheless the Jamie Lloyd Company doesn’t fail to confirm itself as one of the most curious experiences now available on the market.
-3.5 stars
