THE CARETAKER. To 11 November.

Sheffield

THE CARETAKER
by Harold Pinter

Crucible Theatre To 11 November 2006
Tue-Sat 7.30pm except 27 Oct 7pm Mat 25, 28 Oct, 1, 4, 8, 11 Nov 2.30pm
Audio-described 2 Nov (+ Touch Tour)
BSL Signed 26 Oct
Captioned 7 Nov
Post-show discussion 26 Oct
Runs 2hr 25min One interval

TICKETS: 0114 249 6000
www.sheffieldtheatres.co.uk
Review: Timothy Ramsden 17 October

Old play seems new as ever.
Theatre’s come a long way since this play’s 1960 premiere, through human imagination and developing technology. But it’s not all gain and the storm of theatricality at this production’s opening works isn’t helpful. This is a very large room for somewhere so rundown, with unexplained sinkings in the floor, and as Mick broods there’s a hefty-sounding storm, alongside other sounds, plus a series of lighting states. All this suggests some kind of progress, which Mick’s presumably experiencing, and which detracts from the menace and puzzle of his standing still and silent there.

Things improve considerably when director Jamie Lloyd settles down to Pinter’s play. It’s distinguished by David Bradley’s Davies, a typically detailed yet unshowy performance that makes every line seem new-formed by the character rather than coming from a script. (Bradley’s had an interesting ‘rise-and-fall’ character trajectory, playing Sheffield’s Victorian villain Charles Peace at the old Playhouse, rising to God at the National, before returning to Sheffield as down-and-out Davies).

Recently, at Lancaster, Colin Proktor made the tramp a vicious creature. Bradley’s keynotes are fear and insecurity. These govern even his outburst with his knife: threatening as the scene’s ever been, it’s clearly rooted in the same panting fear with which Davies earlier sprawled before Mick’s attack. And the ceremony with which he tries on a new shoe, exercising each leg in the footwear, suggests a need to find order and control. A job as caretaker should be right up his street, and when he loses the position his language understandably peters out in the final broken phrases.

Finding temporary security leads Bradley’s Davies to a new sharpness, and he exploits Aston’s story of loss of secure territory in his medical reminiscence. Otherwise the alter ego brothers both represent the world Davies cannot penetrate. Con O’Neill’s Aston, trudging head down, fixed on short-term aims, seems pliable but can show a determined core, as when he refuses Davies a second handout. Nigel Harman’s Mick, driven by plans and loquacity, is the confident voice of certainty, however much his ground keeps shifting. A fine trio in Lloyd’s clear and individual production.

Mick: Nigel Harman
Aston: Con O’Neill
Davies: David Bradley

Director: Jamie Lloyd
Designer: Soutra Gilmour
Lighting: Oliver Fenwick
Sound: Christopher Shutt
Music: Ben Ringham, Max Ringham
Fight arranger: Terry King
Assistant director: Alexander Ferris

2006-10-23 10:04:50