This was an excellent production with Peter Bowles' diction, even at the lowest volume, still clearly enunciated. The set also was elegant and the colouring tastefully subdued so that it did not detract from the dialogue. All of the acting knitted together naturally even to the cleverly executed slap on Hunter's face by Millie.
The Peter Hall Company’s realisation of Chekov’s bittersweet one act play Swansong is, although not dazzling, sincere and touching. Peter Bowles’ characterisation of the ageing, drunk and brilliant actor Svetlovidov is accomplished chiefly through the musicality and animated expression of his voice. In fact, in this understated production, Bowles’ voice is the principle focus that carries the audience through Chekov’s comic and pathetic depiction of the vulnerability of old age, and the sadness of unfulfilled hope.
The production does not rely on obvious climaxes but instead utilises the subtle realism offered by the text to draw us into the action. Bowles’ drunken regaling of stories is amusing, although a little lacklustre – evidence of a first night flatness, perhaps. The conviction and engagement of both actors improves as the performance continues, and Bowles’ portrayal of the falling away of optimism and hope in the old actor is very poignant. It is a very personal and human production that incites both amusement and sadness in the audience, although nothing more extreme than that.
In a marked change of tone, Bowles’ returns in The Browning Version, the second part of this double bill, to play the emotionally detached and much disliked schoolmaster Andrew Crocker-Smith. From the brilliantly vivid set, the hyperbolic home counties’ accents of the cast, and the boater hats worn by half the characters, we quickly come to the assumption that the setting for Rattigan’s play is an all boys public boarding school of the Eton variety.
Hall’s direction draws the audience in immediately with some self-indulgent and unapologetically exaggerated stereotyping, as the production revels in Rattigan’s elegantly shaped dialogue. The chemistry between the cast sparkles, with James Musgrave’s young Taplow and Candida Gubbins’ flirtatious Mille Crocker-Smith contributing in particular to the vitality of the production.
Having engaged our attention with this entertaining series of clichés, Rattigan’s play becomes a tragic portrayal of cruelty and hurt. Bowles’ character is at first the perfect incarnation of the British stiff-upper lip. He cleverly and gradually adds a depth to Crocker-Smith so precisely and convincingly, that the reserve and guardedness of this old man is heart-breaking at the climax.
The strongest link between the two productions of the evening is the portrayal of this fragility in an old but brilliant man. In an effective contrast to the resigned apathy of Crocker-Smith, Charles Edwards depicts the more fiery and idealistic (although morally clumsy) younger man with a conviction and energy that runs through this entire performance. What begins as hyperbole becomes raw truth in a very touching, yet frequently comic, production.