Realism or non-realism? How do you switch from one to the other on stage? Blithe Spirit, despite its deserved reputation as a light-hearted comedy, raises difficult questions for any director about the suspension of disbelief. Most of Coward's plays fit broadly into the realist-proscenium-arch-drawing-room tradition, with the audience sitting neatly behind the fourth wall. As the curtains open, we know exactly where we are; a small leap of the imagination and we are transported to a country home in the Home Counties (usually the far end of Kent). Of course, one one level, all actors are ghosts, conjured up for two and a half hours before dematerialising when the curtain falls. But in Blithe Spirit, Coward deliberately plays around with the usual theatre conventions; on the one hand, he invites us to share the initial view of novelist Charles and his wife Ruth that the spiritualism of their dinner guest Madame Arcati is a load of tosh. But while Madame A remains throughout exactly what she appears to be at the beginning -- a batty eccentric -- the ghost that materialises in the aftermath of her seance is all too real. Before long, the ghost of Charles' first wife Elvira, while visible only to him, is taking over the household and forcing him to drive her into Folkestone. Coward is making the fairly obvious point that most of us live with ghosts from earlier periods of our lives, who appear infuriatingly when we least expect them. In his case the ghost of Elvira is triggered when Madame Arcati plays a particular song on the gramophone -- but she is oblivious to its effect. We, the audience, know what's going on.
What I enjoy most about this play is the way Coward uses the gap between the perceptions of the audience and the perceptions of the characters on stage. We, like Charles, can see the ghostly Elvira, while Ruth and Madame Arcati can't. For us she is 'real' and we are deliberately tempted to abandon our reasonable views on the non-existence of ghosts and sympathise with Charles. But the character on stage who is being 'reasonable' in human terms is actually Ruth, whose marriage is being wrecked by her husband's obsession with his dead first wife. Towards the end of the play, the dramatic confection Coward has created wobbles a bit and the serious subtext gets rather forgotten in the poltergeist-ridden final scene, but Blithe Spirit remains fascinating, even 70 years on. Sticking labels on plays isn't always productive, but I like to think of this play as a precursor of Alan Ayckbourn's experiments with realism and non-realism a generation later.
This production hasn't had its press night yet, but it opened last November at the Theatre Royal Bath, so is fully up to speed. Alison Steadman is a delight as Madame Arcati, prancing athletically around the stage and managing the occasional pirouette. Back in 1941, my late mother was organising keep-fit classes in village halls to help the war effort, and this Madame Arcati would have been one of her star pupils. Steadman's portrayal is rich in physical comedy; this is a genuine eccentric with a booming voice and arm movements. Think of a bat who's been to ballet classes. The last time I saw this play Penelope Keith played the role in a more knowing fashion, as a woman acting up a part and checking her appearance in the mirror. Steadman's Arcati is genuinely bonkers.
Although not mentioned in the programme, that 2004 production also came from Bath and was the work of the same director, Thea Sharrock. Though this is in no sense a revival, there are broad similarities. Sharrock's chief virtue is that she likes to serve the author's text rather than impose her own artistic vision. If she was in Germany, where ego-driven directors are expected to chop plays up and reassemble them in unrecognisable fashion, she probably wouldn't have much of a future, but I'm a big admirer.
The rest of the cast -- Hermione Norris as Ruth, Robert Bathurst as Charles and Ruthie Henshall as Elvira -- do precisely what the playwright and the director ask of them. Bathurst (I enjoyed his original autobiographical CV in the programme) is possibly a little bland as Charles. If you take the view that anyone who sees ghosts has a dark side to his personality, then his interpretation of the role lacks something. Bo Poraj and Charlotte Thornton do their best in the thankless parts of Dr Bradman and his wife, and Jodie Taibi brings a very funny gymnastic invention to the part of the maid Edith. Hildegard Bechtler's drawing room set and costume design are impeccably Art Deco, though perhaps more suggestive of a swanky Park Lane flat than a country house near Folkestone. What I want to see now is a truly Teutonic production, perhaps at the Barbican, in which Madame Arcati strips off and makes love to her bicycle.
I like most about this game is how coward uses the gap between public perceptions and perceptions of the characters on stage.
Posted by: ליסינג פרטי | November 20, 2011 at 03:03 PM