WEAPONS OF HAPPINESS. To 23 February.
London.
WEAPONS OF HAPPINESS
by Howard Brenton.
Finborough Theatre Finborough Pub 118 Finborough Road SW10 9ED To 23 February 2008.
Tue-Sat 7.30pm Mat Sat & Sun 3pm
Runs 1hr 55min One interval.
TICKETS: 0844 847 1652 (24hr no booking fee).
www.finboroughtheatre.co.uk (reduced full-price tickets online)
Review: Timothy Ramsden 3 February.
A bright Weapons of Happiness.
Whatever this play's rough edges, Fabian Productions’ revival of this 1976 play (an early National Theatre premiere) displays the vigour of Howard Brenton’s argument with society, and gives a pang of regret that, while his sometime stablemate David Hare has gone on to be lionised by British theatre for his animated discussion pieces, Brenton’s rough magic has been largely sidelined.
Despite the production company’s name, there’s nothing of the gradual leftward political evolution associated with Britain’s once-influential Fabian Society. Here, there’s anger and revolution in a London crisp factory, governed by the hopefully named Makepeace family. They have been paternalist equal opportunities employers, but are secretly selling-out to asset-strippers.
Weapons appeared shortly after The Churchill Play, Brenton’s vision of a fissured Britain, where Northern Ireland-style internment is used against the mainland Left. Nowadays, these plays are seen through the revolution that was actually brewing: Thatcherism and a culture of contentment throwing a blanket over underclass despair.
What’s striking for most of the play is the energy and hope Brenton shows in his angry young workers, occupying the factory and seeking a revolution. The older minority are more complacent, as is the union official who contrasts their action with the procedural complexity of patient negotiation.
But Brenton’s central figure is Joseph Frank. Historically, Czech government minister Frank was hanged in a 1952 show-trial by fellow Communists. Here, he survives, seeking anonymity as a worker, haunted by memories of persecution. Hilton McRae captures the death-in-life existence, the empty-eyed fearfulness and abrupt anger when confronted by a worker, Janice, reminding her he’d stood head-to-head with Stalin.
Though her Trostkyite affiliation slips too easily from her tongue, Katie Cotterell’s Janice is otherwise luminously forceful; a bright educational refusenik whose political awareness is expressed in physical desire for the crumpled Frank. Overall, the fine cast of Nathan Curry’s dynamic production create strong contrast between youthful energy and middle-aged resignation.
A few moments indicate the play’s large-stage origins but mostly it gains from intimacy. Alistair Turner’s suitably industrial set, its stack of palettes ingeniously used, also creates a suitably dark and looming surround.
Josef Frank: Hilton McRae.
Ralph Makepeace: Anthony Keetch.
Billy/Guard: Matthew Fraser Holland.
Ken/Guard: Benjamin Davies.
Janice: Katie Cotterell.
Liz: Abigail Hood.
Alf/Stalin: Christopher Terry.
Sylvia Makepeace: Samantha Lynch.
Mr Stanley/Inspector Miller: Mike Aherne.
Hicks/Doubek: Martin Pirongs.
Kohoutek/Commentator: Ben Nathan.
Clementis: Hayward Morse.
Director: Nathan Curry.
Designer: Alistair Turner.
Lighting: Tom White.
Sound: Paul Bull.
Music: Sarah Llewellyn.
2008-02-04 09:24:22