Even if flawed, a classic is still a classic for a reason. And many make this play worthy of the title. It might not have aged all that well, not because of cultural sensitivities, but because of narrative conventions. What probably felt like gripping romance back then can feel clunky and cliched today. But that’s as much criticism as one can do on Clifford Odets’ iron-clutch drama, whose latest London revival is guaranteed to knock audiences out.
Except for the staging, which isn’t lacklustre but is sometimes problematic, the production is an absolute triumph — from Sam Yates’s visceral direction to the cast’s high-octane performances and Isobella Waller-Bridge’s transfixing score. Yates’s approach magnifies the piece’s pathos through blatant yet effective additions, most of which burn into the viewer’s retina and compel just as much.
Joe Bonaparte’s forsaken childhood dreams permeate the recount, as his younger self appears at random as a reminder of his former path as a musician. Its brilliance relies on its double reading. He’s not just a ghost of the past, but the last remnant of a future still present within, while also representing how his father sees him and wishes his son were.
Appropriately, the performance features a live string quartet to provide the incidental music. Hidden behind a window’s shutters, they’re intermittently brought to plain sight to enhance the sentimental angle of some scenes. For the most part, it works. And it’s not just due to Waller-Bridge’s spotless blending of lush, melodious motifs with minimalist sections (all of which serve the narrative exceptionally well), but also because of the visual poetry it conveys.
Similarly, the set features an onstage camera hidden inside Bonaparte’s punching bag, projecting its black-and-white footage across the black wall. The result is a stirring collection of images that successfully heighten the protagonist’s distress through twirling shots and extreme close-ups, while fusing a sense of documentary reality with pulsating expressionism.
Rozanna Vize’s naturalistic design is overall intricate and functional. Most scenes transition seamlessly from one another. That is, as long as the action doesn’t take place somewhere else from an office or a home. The lack of abstraction compromises the set’s adaptability, making the scenography inefficient and unimaginative during some key moments, such as the Joe and Lorna’s tender encounter in the park at night or the box match sections.
The whole company puts on an impeccable performance that brims with rapport, stamina, magnetism, and sincerity — with the highest mention going to Daniel Mays and Hayley Squires as Tom Moody and Lorna Moon.
Josh O’Connor is captivating in the lead role of Joe Bonaparte, playing the part with poise while exuding the character’s emotional turmoil. However, some aspects of his rendition suffer from an absence of depth, which inevitably leads to a slight feeling of flatness — although they come off better than his Italian-American accent.
A hard-hitting play has been reborn on the London stage. To say the production punches above its weight would be unfair, especially given the quality of its elements. But I must stress what a pleasant surprise it is to watch theatre of this calibre, even if it hasn’t reached perfection. Piercing and haunting, Golden Boy has thrown its hat into the ring for the autumn season, and it seems like a worthy opponent to whatever comes next. Even if it’s against the rules, audiences are likely to get a kick out of it.
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All pictures credit to Marc Brenner.
Golden Boy plays at London’s Almeida Theatre until 31 October. Tickets are available on the following link.