ACROSS OKA. To 18 October.

Manchester

ACROSS OKA
by Robert Holman

Royal Exchange Studio In rep to 18 October 2003
7,9,13,15,16 October 7.30pm
11October 8pm
Mat 18 October 3pm
Runs 2hr 35min One interval

TICKETS: 0161 833 9833
www.royalexchange.co.uk
Review: Timothy Ramsden 6 October

Half set in the Soviet Union, with a portrait of Lenin and smashed eggs, it still doesn't quite make an omelette.Though it's domestic in much of its setting, Robert Holman's 1988 play for the Royal Shakespeare Company's small Other Place and Pit spaces ventures widely in location and subject.

Its strengths are in the focus it gives the characters. Its limitation is the static quality, which Sarah Frankcom's finely-acted revival only handles thoroughly in the long final scene.

On England's north-east coast 16-year old Matty's fascinated with the rare bird-eggs dying grandad Jolyon bequeaths him. Jolyon's death leaves his dinghy, stocked with provisions for an unrealistic voyage to Russia. Pavel, an old Soviet correspondent on rare eggs, visits Jolyon, not knowing he's dead, and issues Matty and Gran Margaret with an invitation to the Soviet Union.

There are contrasts between the family anguish in England and more harmonious domestic relations in
the USSR. In one respect - that of respect within the family - Across Oka might be socialist realism decrying the decadent West with its family rejections, lack of purpose (Matty laid-back in his promises of studying) and regrets.

Across the world, there may be physical cold - Oka's a wildlife reserve with an icy climate. But Jolyon's dinghy, repainted but never used in England, doubles as the boat in which the two teenagers - Matty and Pavel's purposeful, respectful son Nikolai - are trusted to carry the near-extinct White Siberian Crane eggs (which Pavel's brought halfway round the world) in a temperature-controlled portable incubator for a more common brand of Crane to mother.

The play suffers from overuse of retrospective speeches (which also disfigures the companion piece in the Exchange Studio's 'Quietly Making Noise' Holman season). We're told so much in place of having it dramatised. It's a shame, given the terrific conclusion, which shows what a perceptive, economical playwright Holman can be.

Saarah Frankcom's production doesn't over come the problems. The traverse staging for both plays - the audience in two bowed lines either side of the stage- gives a suitable marine shape for two plays both involving river voyages. But the early scenes tend to focus on a trio of chairs where characters sit or behind which they stand. Later, intimate conversations are spread across a huge stage area.

The mix of realistic elements on an otherwise bare, open stage loses impact. There's an awkward mix of location created by realistic objects, however sparely, and by actors' physicality.

But the casting is excellent. Colin MacLachlan's brief, early portrait of Jolyon creates a sense of mature contentment, undermined by what we learn of family tensions. MacLaclan's also expertly tactful as Pavel - who with his Tunbridge Wells-derived wife (to whom Julia Rounthwaite brings a mix of bourgeois English angst and Soviet-life dependability) are less developed,more plot-and-theme requirements than the others.

Eileen O' Brien's always a delight to watch, giving her namesake the sense of a whole life lived, every trial and sorrow seeming ingrained in the character's behaviour. Here's someone whose reticent manner is parried by quiet vocal strength, one character who does make noise quietly.

Andrew Sheridan suggests a 16-year old clearly, but using a deliberate limitation in expressive range. He suggests something held back within the character. It's intriguing but leaves a sense of dissatisfaction as to whether this is the whole of Matty, or there's something remaining covered.

Then his character comes to devastatingclarity Holman's final scene - played here with beautifully directed intensity and stillness - shows Matty's discontent, leading to the miniature destruction that resounds cataclysmically in this finely-drawn world of two young men alone with each other, and - therefore - with themselves.

It's here, too, Giles Cooper's calm Nikolai shows his nature. Uncomprehending of Matty's volatility, his principled resistance to accepting the hand that needs and offers friendship contributes to a disaster he could not have imagined occurring moments before - people don't do such things as Matty's about to do.

And, the play fades out on the possibility of a new understanding which remains a dramatic possibility, even if it's not been borne out in actuality as the solid-seeming Soviet Union gave way, just after this play, to West-exploited opportunity and chaos.

Nikolai:Giles Cooper
Tessa: Cate Hamer
Jolyon/Pavel:Colin MacLachlan
Eileen: Eileen O' Brien
Margaret: Julia Rounthwaite
Matty: Andrew Sheridan

Director:Sarah Frankcom
Designer: Simon Daw
Lighting:Richard Owen
Sound: Gerry Marsden
Russian accent coach: Helen Rappaport

2003-10-07 13:25:21