ARCADIA

Old Vic

★★★★★

“extremely intelligent, stimulating, challenging and fun”

It is rare in the theatre when the question about why jam cannot be ‘unstirred’ from a bowl of rice pudding sets our thoughts on a mind-boggling tangent about the universe. But it epitomises the skill and the beauty of the writing in Tom Stoppard’s “Arcadia”. It is the ‘ordinary-sized stuff which is in our lives, the things people write about – clouds, daffodils, waterfalls, what happens in a cup of coffee when the cream goes in – these things are full of mystery’. Carrie Cracknell’s revival of the 1993 stage play is, indeed, full of mystery. Like a detective story with an abundance of clues that, once in the hands of the protagonists, don’t really lead to the solution they are looking for. Mainly because there is always a counter argument.

The age-old conflicts between science and art, intellect and romance, certainty and poetry, truth and fiction, are explored with beautiful eloquence. Stoppard picks away at our own beliefs, and by setting the play in two parallel eras (the early nineteenth and the late twentieth centuries) he picks away at the fabric of time itself. Many of the issues soar way over our heads as dollops of theories are added to the metaphoric rice pudding. Postulations of quantum mechanics, entropy, chaos theory and Newtonianism, for example, rub shoulders with bawdy humour and ‘carnal embraces’ (aka sex). The subject matter collides like tiny atoms, but far from being chaotic the result is a glorious three hours of theatrical bliss. And a gorgeous tribute to the playwright who died barely ten weeks ago.

The outstanding cast goes a long way in ensuring the watchability of the drama. The play opens in 1809 with the precocious and privileged Thomasina Coverly (Isis Hainsworth) in a light-hearted but deep conversation with her tutor Septimus Hodge (Seamus Dillane). The quality of the performances is established from the outset – both playful and serious at the same time. The dynamics are flirtatious, a touch dubious but somehow chaste. Dillane wears a guilty conscience like a made-to-measure second skin while Hainsworth faultlessly displays a mix of playful childishness, genius and sassiness. In storms the bumbling, wannabe poet Ezra Chater (Matthew Steer on brilliant form) challenging Septimius to a duel in the belief that he is carrying on with his wife (he is). He is also ‘carrying on’ with Thomasina’s mother – we are led to believe. Oh, what a tangled web we weave… Fiona Button wonderfully displays coquettishness and playful attraction despite ruling the manor – and her daughter – with an iron fist.

Cut to 1993 and we are in the same location. The ghosts of the historical characters are hanging in the air as academic Hannah Jarvis (Leila Farzad) is locked in debate with Bernard Nightingale (Prasanna Puwanarajah) over what happened nearly two centuries ago in the very same room. Puwanarajah has some of the best monologues of the play as he charismatically extrapolates his theories; often proved wrong by Farzad’s cool Hannah. Links to the past are provided by the present-day Chloë Coverly (Holly Godliman) and her brother Valentine (Angus Cooper) who seems to be wrestling with the scientific predictions of his forebear Thomasina, but with considerably less ease.

Alex Eales’ design places the action in the round on a slowly moving revolve which mirrors the passage of time – perceptible but simultaneously unnoticed. In this way, the connections between the two time periods are highlighted, aided by Cracknell’s slick, overlapping transitions from one to the other which eventually fuse into a searingly poignant final act as the two merge together in a dreamy waltz. What is revealed ultimately is that, despite the breakthroughs of science, and despite the changing philosophies and beliefs over time; human connection never alters. There is much talk of loss in the dialogue. The loss of belief, of meaning and also of the material artefacts that define us – the books and the architecture of life. What do we look for then?

Yes, “Arcadia” is like a detective story with an abundance of clues that, once in the hands of the protagonists, don’t really lead to the solution they are looking for. Perhaps because what they are really looking for is love. Stoppard dresses it all up in a very wordy but extremely intelligent, stimulating, challenging and fun play. His spirit lives on and, with productions of his work like this one, we can be sure of its longevity.

ARCADIA

Old Vic

Reviewed on 6th February 2026

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Manuel Harlan

ARCADIA

★★★★

“he writer goes in decidedly oblique directions at every juncture”

Orphans director Al Miller says he ploughed through dozens of scripts looking for his next project. His mission: something with “real voltage”.

He alighted upon Lyle Kessler’s taut three-hander and thought, “It’s going to be a ride!”

The play has an impeccable pedigree from its 1983 LA roots with stars such as Albert Finney, Jesse Eisenberg and Alec Baldwin sinking their teeth into the deliciously ripe dialogue, with actors given meaty mouthfuls to chew up and spit out.

The set-up is this. Orphan brothers Treat and Phillip live in a rundown Philadelphia row house. Treat, with psychopathic tendencies, goes out into the world to rob innocents while tender and simple Phillip stays at home as a recluse fearing that if he were to step outside, he would die from his allergies.

Treat likes it this way, with Phillip cloistered at home. He cares for his sibling in his own demented way and strikes down any attempt by his docile brother to better himself. Treat is mutely terrified by the prospect of the boy moving on – the shadow of abandonment running through the entire piece.

One spring day, Treat brings home Harold, a middle-aged businessman, drunk beyond his wits and telling tales of his own motherless past. Handsomely dressed, Harold has stocks and bonds in his briefcase. With Harold tied to a chair, Treat heads downtown to see if he can find a friend who might pay to release the man they assume to be a well-upholstered industrialist.

But it doesn’t turn out that way. Harold is not a doughy journeyman in a natty suit but something altogether more intriguing. All conventions are upended. “You’re supposed to be a kidnap victim,” insists Treat.

There are inevitable notes of Pinter – in the covert menace – and Mamet – in the masculine hierarchies – but the writer goes in decidedly oblique directions at every juncture. Power gets passed around like a cheap bottle of vodka as relationships blossom and fracture in the most unexpected ways.

The credibility of this engrossing narrative relies on the performances. Here, there is not a flaw. Chris Walley as thuggish Treat is intimidating and rangy. Fred Woodley Evans manages to convey Phillip without the tendentious sentimentality to which such a role might succumb.

At the heart of the matter, and showcasing a career of craft, charm and presence, is Forbes Masson as Harold, swivelling on a sixpence from violence to empathy to comedy to wit, all to dazzle and confuse the brothers.

Imagine a cross between Tony Soprano and Papa Smurf.

At no point are his true motives transparent – he doesn’t appear interested in escape or revenge. In fact, you could probably construct a plausible theory that Harold is a figment of the boys’ imagination, filling in for the father figure their lives so obviously lack.

The play, ornamented by Sarah Beaton’s distressed set, is never less than electrifying, as the director had hoped. The story never goes where you think it might – or even should. Although this erratic tendency brings with it the peril of tonal uncertainty, the sure performances always take the production back to solid ground.

In theory, Kessler’s Orphans should be a conventional genre piece about gangsters and violence. It is not. It is something far more bamboozling. Expect the unexpected.

Tag Archives: Donato Wharton

ARCADIA

★★★★★

Old Vic

ARCADIA

Old Vic

★★★★★

“extremely intelligent, stimulating, challenging and fun”