ONE HELLUVA LIFE.

Tour

ONE HELLUVA LIFE
by William Luce

Review Timothy Ramsden 23 January at Belgrade Theatre Coventry

Fine acting in a piece that offers more laughs than insights.A paradoxical evening: a one-man show about a performer who forgets his lines. A performing master of the downbeat as an actor who excelled, briefly, as Hamlet and Richard III. A subject of immense possibilities treated as a treasure-chest of bathos and smart one-liners.

Here is John Barrymore, along with brother Lionel and sister Ethel one generation of early 20th century American theatre's 'Royal Family'. But now it's 1942, rehearsal time, and only loyal aide Frank is waiting in the wings with a barbed comment and the next cue. Clearly, there will be no show.

Frank, like a child who has it wrong, is heard but not seen. It's the play's one claim to innovation; were it not for the curtain-call, Rupert Farley needn't have bothered getting dressed up. He consistently catches the appropriate tone of annoyance, supplication or patience, with consummate timing – not easy when you're isolated offstage.

On a near bare stage (no designer credit), with what turns out a throne into which he can sink, and a clothes-basket into which, with Falstaffian overtones he collapses (climbing painfully out to comment how much easier it was to fall in), Conti spends act one shambling about, repeatedly interrupting himself with memories and reflections (divorce costs more than marriage, 'but it's worth it'). Director Bryan Forbes seems happy to let him get on with it.

The other prop is a series of bottles, from which a near-continuous stream of alcohol pours down Bsrrymore's throat, inspiring wit and assaulting memory. Conti's style means there are moments you don't know whether he's had a momentary lapse, or is perfectly capturing a Barrymore thought-jump. All ends up apparently seamless choreographed vocal timing in the Conti manner - his speech is the vocal version of shrugged shoulders - making for an amusing evening of disenchanted wit: this is the bar-room bore crafted to avoid monotony and staying short of bilious unpleasantness.

If only the humour made way for insights into Barrymore's downward projectile-career or the craft of playing, and went beyond the generalised image of a sozzled mental rambler.

John Barrymore: Tom Conti
Frank: Rupert Farley

Director: Bryan Forbes
Lighting: Leonard Tucker
Choreography: Bernard Sharpe

2003-01-26 02:10:58