Joe Orton’s iconic play returns to the London stage in a new production running at the Young Vic until the start of November. Guillermo Nazara shares his views on the show to let us know if its latest revival is, in every sense, a great all-rounder.
We often attribute the decline of a comedy classic to the fickle nature of humour. Essentially, what was funny back in the day might not be amusing anymore. And what we enjoy today will probably not be appealing to future audiences, primarily because we are no longer allowed to have a laugh.
Entertaining Mr. Sloane was never intended to put viewers in a good mood — or at least, not without putting them through a little suffering too. On the whole, it’s a rather unsettling watch — aimed to provoke thought but also disgust.
A histrionic middle-aged lady with an infantile personality (except for when it comes to bed affairs) invites a good-looking young man to become her new tenant. He has an air of mystique, a bizarre aura of charm that drags anything and anyone around him into his own gravity — her brother would confirm. Only one member of that household distrusts him, certain that he’s the same man he met years ago, and who’s trying to conceal his unscrupulous past.
Things get worse before they get better, if they ever do. And viewers must prepare themselves for an evening of questionable morale, gratuitous violence (quote, unquote), and the most unashamed display of borderline disorders I’ve ever come across onstage. That’s precisely the point of the play. But it’s also a titanic challenge that, like an artistic Damocles sword, hangs over the actors for the entire course of the evening. Do it the wrong way, in the very slightest, and your fate will be sealed worse than Dada’s. And it appears that, this time, the Young Vic has understood only half of the assignment.
Anyone familiar with the 1970 screen adaptation will realise the extreme importance of nuance and timing the script requires. Brimming with dry humour, while relying on absurdity and shock factor, the jokey reading of the material depends principally on the performers’ choices and overall rapport. Every gesture counts. Every inflection makes a difference. And the need to underpin the characters’ brawling emotions is imperative.
Yet, the production isn’t able to convey the blinding attraction Mr. Sloane emanates — let alone define the roles’ arcs and traits. There is no sin in presenting more archetypal personages in a farce — in some way, that’s what the genre calls for. But the problem is that some renditions fail to do so, too — showing little sense of organicness or chemistry.
Jordan Stephens’s interpretation of Mr. Sloane struggles to convince, feeling flat for the most part and devoid of the charismatic aspects that justify others’ infatuation with him. It’s a plain portrayal with no background building — no layering, no specks of true identity, not even the insidious undertone he’s supposed to exude more and more as the plot progresses.
Consequently, the rest of the company can’t benefit from his nonexistent charisma, leading to a noticeable lack of attachment among them, and accompanied by an absence of sympathy from the audience.
Tamzin Outhwait arguably gives the best performance as Kath, flaunting great comedy skills through her traditional approach to the role — regaling us with a high-pitched, salaciously sweet lady that’s hardly missable and fairly irresistible. Christopher Fairbank also excels as the old man, Kemp, bringing out the character’s desperation and sorrowful loneliness through a most compelling, heart-moving act. Daniel Cerqueira proves his tongue-in-cheek abilities as the conflicted Ed. Yet, his delivery is too reminiscent of Outhwait’s, coming off as more of a gullible guy instead of the domineering big brother the narrative requires, despite keeping one big weakness in his closet.
Staged in the round, the design is generally satisfactory. Jumbled furniture rises into the rafters to reveal a carpeted deck accompanied by a few scattered props. Properly blocked, the direction incorporates new sequences played in sync with the original text, where a cold green hissing light reveals a slow-moving Mr. Sloane relishing in his deception, which will later trap him. Enticing as a concept, the idea doesn’t seem to provide more than a distraction, cluttering rather than contributing to the visual effect.
With an engaging first half but losing a lot of momentum for the remainder of the show, the Young Vic’s latest revival of Entertaining Mr. Sloane preserves part of the piece’s blunt freshness, but some plain deliveries and confusing additions blur the droll sharpness that made it memorable in the first place. A good bunch of giggles and even some roaring are guaranteed, but its unpolished state is unlikely to turn this production into a reference. Ultimately, these resourceless components leave us with another unhappy marriage by the end.
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All pictures credit to Ellie Kurttz.
Entertaining Mr. Sloane plays at London’s Young Vic Theatre until 8 November. Tickets are available on the following link.