December 10, 2010
The main pull of this play, for me, was the tagline, a quote issued from the formidable Edith Sitwell, poet and one of the couple’s contemporaries: “At some point in their marriage, T.S. Eliot went mad and promptly certified his wife.” Witty and intriguing; a very good call by the production team! But also, it may well be true, at least according to this play. It seems to view the relationship and marriage through this lens, admitting that Viv was difficult for a man of Tom’s temperament and experience to deal with; and yes, illness of any kind puts often unbearable strain on a relationship; but consistently implying that, had the man been thinking straight, he would have seen all these things as trivial and of secondary importance (in the play at least, if not in reality). It’s pretty distressing, therefore, to watch him fail to make that realisation before it’s too late.
This was a tragic play; in the first half we are not quite convinced that the marriage could ever have been seen to be a good idea, and in the second we watch it fade away in a series of unconnected conversations and outbursts in which the couple each seek to get the other’s attention without realising that they already have it. Brian Earp and Helen Taylor carry off these emotional displays with style, and an obvious chemistry. In the very occasional scenes when they are happy, there is a strong impression that if only they could be left to enjoy themselves all the time, their marriage would survive. Earp’s Tom subtly and convincingly matures over the course of the play, from an unsure and slightly whiny, but passionate and bright young intellectual, to a distinguished and controlling gentleman, still unsure about his choices but steelier and more determined to make them. Taylor’s Viv is funny and self-effacing, charming and childish, but capable of encouraging our belief in her sanity despite entreaties by almost every other character to pronounce her mad.
All the cast are talented and adaptable; when the scenes segue from, for instance, a light-hearted and amusing introduction between Tom and his stern, upper-class in-laws, to a breakdown in civility caused by Viv’s erratic behaviour and outbursts, no actor fails to quickly make the transition from (relatively) comfortable to (relatively) terrified. Nick Quartley and Lisa Barnett excel as the likable and loving Mr and Mrs Haigh-Wood; Barnett makes the inherently difficult compromise between a proper, image-conscious, well-to-do lady of high society, and a caring, frightened mother naturally and seamlessly, and Quartley as Mr Haigh-Wood brings notes of uncomplicated humour to an otherwise fairly dark play. Maurice, Viv’s brother, played by Will Fournier, is crucial to helping us to understand the intentionally ridiculous things she does as comedy, rather than interpreting them as disturbing, as Tom does, as well as nonchalantly delivering some of the play’s best lines.
Tom & Viv runs for two more nights at the Moser Theatre; the characters are polished and interesting, the production understated and relaxed, and you can buy drinks in the interval. As far as I’m concerned, there is every reason to go and see it.
This was a tragic play; in the first half we are not quite convinced that the marriage could ever have been seen to be a good idea, and in the second we watch it fade away in a series of unconnected conversations and outbursts in which the couple each seek to get the other’s attention without realising that they already have it. Brian Earp and Helen Taylor carry off these emotional displays with style, and an obvious chemistry. In the very occasional scenes when they are happy, there is a strong impression that if only they could be left to enjoy themselves all the time, their marriage would survive. Earp’s Tom subtly and convincingly matures over the course of the play, from an unsure and slightly whiny, but passionate and bright young intellectual, to a distinguished and controlling gentleman, still unsure about his choices but steelier and more determined to make them. Taylor’s Viv is funny and self-effacing, charming and childish, but capable of encouraging our belief in her sanity despite entreaties by almost every other character to pronounce her mad.
All the cast are talented and adaptable; when the scenes segue from, for instance, a light-hearted and amusing introduction between Tom and his stern, upper-class in-laws, to a breakdown in civility caused by Viv’s erratic behaviour and outbursts, no actor fails to quickly make the transition from (relatively) comfortable to (relatively) terrified. Nick Quartley and Lisa Barnett excel as the likable and loving Mr and Mrs Haigh-Wood; Barnett makes the inherently difficult compromise between a proper, image-conscious, well-to-do lady of high society, and a caring, frightened mother naturally and seamlessly, and Quartley as Mr Haigh-Wood brings notes of uncomplicated humour to an otherwise fairly dark play. Maurice, Viv’s brother, played by Will Fournier, is crucial to helping us to understand the intentionally ridiculous things she does as comedy, rather than interpreting them as disturbing, as Tom does, as well as nonchalantly delivering some of the play’s best lines.
Tom & Viv runs for two more nights at the Moser Theatre; the characters are polished and interesting, the production understated and relaxed, and you can buy drinks in the interval. As far as I’m concerned, there is every reason to go and see it.
