MAJOR BARBARA. To 9 December.
Richmond
MAJOR BARBARA
by George Bernard Shaw
Orange Tree Theatre To 11 November then 27 November-9 December 2006
Mon-Sat 7.30pm Mat Sat & 26 Oct, 30 Nov, 7 Dec 2.30pm
Audio-described 7 Nov, 11 Nov 2.30pm
Post-show discussion 1 Dec (+ after Thu mats)
Runs 3hr One interval
TICKETS: 020 8940 3633
www.orangetreetheatre.com
Review: Timothy Ramsden 20 October
Calls the shot without quite hitting bull’s-eye.
The Orange Tree, virtually alone in Britain, is celebrating the 150th anniversary of the birth of George Bernard Shaw, whose talkathon texts hardly lend themselves to modern whizkid visual virtuosity. Sandwiching a fortnight of Shavian one-acters comes this revival of a play which so understands the relationship between spirituality and earthly powers it could have been written in rapid response to any number of recent political situations.
Sam Walters’ production is rightly unromantic about arms millionaire Andrew Undershaft, a devil to whom Shaw gives if not the best tunes, at least several major themes. From the grizzled, cheerily bulbous person he first appears, through the mate-in-one way he shows his Salvation Army daughter Barbara how the Christian virtues she seeks to inspire in the poor all add to his profit, to final thundering declarations of his super-governmental power Robert Austin shows the teeth behind the smiles.
Even his early disarming assertion that he never disciplines his men becomes a sinister echo of Ibsen’s Enemy of the People: that each rank keeps the one below in order to maintain its own position. While his partner Lazarus cultivates the arts, Undershaft maintains the uncivilised moral neutrality of the arms-dealer. It’s reflected in the firm’s succession: not by family but by finding a bastard with a temperament suited to carrying the business on. There’s no room for sentiment at the cannon’s mouth.
In fact, Austin roars too much, especially in this small theatre, while Octavia Walters’ Barbara passes from the simple smiles of religious conviction through distress to a new, over-generalised post-Sally Army enthusiasm without quite grasping the steely command that makes her her father’s daughter.
William Roberts’ set creates the play’s diverse locations out of crates for shipping weaponry. It’s economical, thematically correct and links the worlds of society, deprivation and industry, but also tends to flatten the differences. Amid this not-quite-capturing of Shaw’s heights, there’s relief in Jacqueline King’s grande dame, getting her way with most people without realising the twists of argument she’s employing, or Matt Houlihan’s gormless Lomax, all furrowed-brow befuddlement varied by momentary oases of blank-smiling apparent clarity.
Andrew Undershaft: Robert Austin
Lady Britomart Undershaft: Jacqueline King
Barbara Undershaft: Octavia Walters
Sarah Undershaft: Charity Reindorp
Stephen Undershaft: Nicholas Gadd
Adolphus Cusins: David Antrobus
Charles Lomax: Matt Houlihan
Morrison/Peter Shirley: Geoff Leesley
Rummy Mitchens: Paula Stockbridge
Snobby Price/Bilton: Stuart Fox
Jenny Hill: Sarah Manton
Bill Walker: Mark Frost
Mrs Baines: Jan Carey
Director: Sam Walters
Designer: William Roberts
Lighting: John Harris
Fight director: Richard Ryan
Assistant directors: Henry Bell, Helen Leblique
Assistant designer: Robyn Wilson
2006-10-22 12:46:25