THE FATHER. To 30 September.
Chichester
THE FATHER
by August Strindberg adapted by Mike Poulton
Minerva Theatre To 30 September 2006
Mon-Sat 7.45pm Mat 21. 23, 27, 20 Sept 2.15pm
Runs 1hr 45min No interval
TICKETS: 01243 781312
www.cft.org.uk
Review: Timothy Ramsden 19 September
Vivid, psychologically compelling revival.
August Strindberg invested cavalry officer Adolf with his own passionate concern for his children (and for scientific pursuits), examining the terrible power a wife has to know whether or not her husband is actually father to their child. The tussle of wills begins when Adolf wants to send 15-year old Bertha away, and his wife Laura wants to keep the girl by her.
Angus Jackson’s production, aided by Mike Poulton’s sprightly new version, begins in a brisk, comic manner, emphasising Adolf’s authority. His harshness shows through as he deals with the young soldier who’s impregnated one of the women servants. It’s this young cavalry-man who opens up doubts about paternity; Adolf proceeds to give the weapon of doubt to Laura as eagerly as Richard II surrenders his crown to Bolingbroke.
Adolf turns his forcefulness against himself, the early brief, brow-furrowing, head-pinching signs of stress developing into tormented mania. Jasper Britton’s straight-backed figure, arms assertively behind his back, is transformed into a parody as he sits wildly, hand running agitatedly through his hair, arms eventually pinioned in a straitjacket.
Teresa Banham’s Laura repeatedly tells him Bertha is their daughter, reasonably saying there’s no point in repeating it while Adolf’s fixed idea is that the girl’s someone else’s child. Pacing uneasily or standing confidently, she has a hard-eyed look in which puzzlement and disgust co-exist. But Adolf’s the one whose mania is a threat to himself and those around him (only the removal of bullets prevents disaster to the person he most loves). Part of this production’s value lies in the even-handed way it shows the impact of these married people on each other.
There’s good support all round, including Robert Whitelock’s ineffectual pastor (and Laura’s brother), Hywel John’s deliberately monotone-voiced soldier, Steffan Rhoddri's voice of medical reason, and, especially, Sandra Voe as the Nanny who reluctantly slips Adolf into the straitjacket, taking him back to child-voiced infancy, the only state in which Laura can love him. Angela Davies’ aptly sparse set features only the desk, lamp and chair, which begin asserting Adolf’s command and end in encroaching darkness, as disturbed as his mind.
Pastor: Robert Whitelock
Adolf: Jasper Britton
Svard: Richard Kent
Joseph: Hywel John
Laura: Teresa Banham
Dr Ostermark: Steffan Rhoddri
Nanny: Sandra Voe
Bertha: Michelle Tate
Director: Angus Jackson
Designer: Angela Davies
Lighting: Fiona Simpson
Sound: Gareth Fry
2006-09-20 12:46:21