THE REAL THING at the Old Vic

★★★★

“Stoppard at his finest”

The Old Vic stages a new production of Tom Stoppard’s discursive but entertaining play from 1982. It’s become a norm to criticise the work of Stoppard for lacking heart, being too clever, and too wordy, so it’s amusing to hear the author condemned by one of his own characters. “Having all the words is not what life’s all about”, says Max as he argues with the playwright Henry. And there’s much to carp about: the lack of character development, the snobbery, the itty bitty supporting roles. Charlotte argues that Henry creates a female character that is only good for the pouring of drinks, whilst Stoppard comes close to making Charlotte just that.

The central topic is the title of the play and to make this clear it is spelt out in neon pink lighting across the centre of the stage at the start and end of the show. As a series of relationships play out we assess if any of the affairs, married or otherwise, are ‘the real thing’. Henry pontificates at length about the subject whilst his daughter Debbie reduces the discussion to something snappy that could be written on a t-shirt. Max clings at the legs of Annie when he discovers she is leaving. Henry cries in the dark when he hears of Annie’s affair with Billy. Charlotte admits nine secret liaisons whilst married to Henry. It appears that Stoppard is telling us that there is no real relationship without infidelity.

And what is real? In the first scene we believe we are witnessing something only to find it is a scene from a play. (No spoiler here as the Old Vic programme inexplicably gives this one away.) And if we think a scene seems real, the illusion is broken by dancing stagehands rearranging the stage furniture. In one such entr’acte, Henry is poured a drink by a stagehand as he relaxes on his sofa, whilst his room is created around him. It’s not real whatever Henry (or Stoppard) has to say about it.

The production values are superb. The set is a much larger open space than a traditional living room set (Peter McKintosh – Set & Costume) with luscious royal blue walls. Different lampshades are flown in above the same white sofa to differentiate sitting rooms. The sofa even doubles for seating in a train carriage. Director Max Webster moves his characters around the stage effortlessly, and whilst much of the action takes place on the sofa it never feels too static.

Bel Powley as Annie delightfully harnesses her inner Felicity Kendall, beautifully flirtatious in an over-sexy mini dress for her early scenes and comes into her own as her relationships develop. Her clothing ages with her as she settles down into shirt and jeans, and finally a rather middle-class trouser suit. James McArdle, on the other hand, spends much of the time in just a shirt and his boxers as Henry battles it out with his typewriter and the need to write words. These two characters carry the brunt of the play through their lovemaking and their arguing and McArdle and Powley are excellent throughout. It is the quality of their speech that is impressive, their impeccable diction giving Stoppard’s verbosity Shakespearian quality.

Oliver Johnstone too excels as Max particularly showing some fine facial expression and such a pity he disappears from the action after the important early scenes. Susan Wokoma as Charlotte who is brought back for a brief catch-up scene could give us more.

A special mention of Karise Yansen as Henry and Charlotte’s teenage daughter Debbie who aces her one brief scene, allowing us to learn that Henry struggles with father-daughter relationships as much as husband and wife.

The Real Thing is Stoppard at his finest. Combine this with the outstanding design elements of the show and the stellar cast, this is a show not to be missed.