Pretending To Be Something It Isn't.
Sarah (Emma Jenkinson) and Richard (Rob Hayward) act out their fantasies.
The Lover Author: Harold Pinter; Director: Charlie Henniker Burton Taylor, 26th – 30th April, 7.30pm
Oxford seems to be indulging in permanent thespian onanism over Harold Pinter, and the latest manifestation of this is a production of The Lover. Exploring the themes of identity, subterfuge and trust, The Lover focuses on the twisted interactions of a middle-class married couple in the ostensibly genteel surroundings of 1960s Windsor.
Undertaking various role plays and aliases, Richard (Rob Hayward) and Sarah (Emily Jenkinson) cheat on each other, with one another – that is to say, the lovers that they take are actually themselves playing another role. Yes, it is confusing, and unfortunately this somewhat spoils the effect of the play.
The intention is clearly to provide a contrast between the reality of an average marriage with the hidden sexual desires and perversions of the protagonists, but this fails because there is no ‘realistic’ point of reference with which to compare the fantasies.
The script – and this is no fault of the actors – is anachronistic and stilted, to such an extent that it obscures the undoubted relevance of the themes explored behind a barrage of “Oh darling,” and “Wonderful!” References to “decadence” and “illegitimate lust” sound old-fashioned and unrealistic, as do retro-throwback references to wifely duties and a failure to have dinner on the table in the evening.
There are a couple of witty and smirk-inducing lines, such as Richard’s claim: “I don’t have a mistress. I’ve got a whore. There’s a world of difference.” Generally, though, the script seems smug, unsympathetic and at times irritating, and frankly makes one wonder at the seeming obsession with Pinter.
The device of a drum that is beaten by Sarah and her ‘lover’, and then discovered by Richard, is no doubt meant to symbolise the rhythm of their lust but in fact just leaves one feeling bemused. Despite the failures of the script, the performances go some way to redeeming the production, particularly considering the fact that, with a sparse set and only two characters, each of the actors cannot avoid confronting the audience at all moments – there is really nowhere to hide.
Hayward puts in a solid performance with sporadic moments of intensity, and is perhaps the most grounded of the pair, making more of an effective distinction between his character and the various roles that his character assumes. Jenkinson is fairly good but can seem rather wooden and emotionless at moments, though this is more the fault of the script that she has to work with than a reflection of her abilities.
Both actors, however, manage to inject some much-needed energy into this play that can seem colder and limper than the supper which Sarah prepares for Richard. Ultimately, this play fails to tell us anything about the human condition – about the themes that it purports to explore. Watch for the performances alone.
21st Apr 2005