THE FIFTH STEP

@Sohoplace

★★★★

“the direction is slick and there’s always a sense that something is around the corner”

About halfway through this bracing alcohol-and-redemption two-hander, James suddenly appears in a rabbit’s head.

This is a call-back to a dream that Luka recounts, Luka being a newcomer to the step programme of Alcoholics Anonymous. In the dream, his sponsor James appears like a rabbit, and so he does again in real life.

This is an interesting fantastical element, we think, seeing the world through Luka’s eyes.
James, in the rabbit’s head, offers Luka some cake.

‘What kind of cake?’ asks Luka.

‘Carrot.’

That’s the whole point of this elaborate set-up – a carrot joke. The rabbit’s head is swiftly dispatched and is of no further use or consequence.

Therein lies the tension at the heart of The Fifth Step. We can see playwright David Ireland’s impish inclinations at work. He can’t help himself. If there’s a gag, he’s going to veer off course to hoover it up whatever the cost to character, balance or timing. Now we’re thinking: that whole bit about Luka’s dream? Was that just there to construct the rabbit-carrot gag?

The writer really wants us laughing. He is successful – for it is a very funny play – but it is also an effortful and visible urge. It means many of those tight 90 minutes are devoted to set-ups and punchlines are not available to develop character, relationships and substance.

Because the play also has a hankering to tackle big issues. There is the overarching scenario – a suicidal alcoholic seeking aid from a long sober veteran. This leads to discussions about the oedipal reflexes of fathers and sons, spiritual awakenings, inventories of shameful behaviour (aka, the fifth step) and – hold on to your hats – sex. Lots and lots of talk about self-pleasuring.

The result is resoundingly entertaining but frustratingly slim.

That is not to say the audience is short-changed.

For one, it is a very comfortable watch. Yes, the expletive-rich script can prove occasionally jarring, but the action speeds along, the dialogue flies about like a pinball, the direction is slick and there’s always a sense that something is around the corner – some twist or revelation – that will provide fresh juice.

The stage (set design Milla Clarke), in the round, aids this sense of urgency. It is reminiscent of a scattered circle of folding chairs at an AA meeting but soon becomes a wrestling ring, with two minds locked in an embrace, fighting each other to a breathless standstill.

Secondly, there are the performances. They are simply superb – low-key and silky. Jack Lowden is the freshly minted star of Slow Horses and here he reprises his role as Luka from a short Edinburgh run. He is all chaotic energy, his leg always bouncing, his mind always racing.

Martin Freeman, as James, has a knack for freighted stillness. And, of course, he has a history of hangdog deadpanning that is firmly part of comedy legend. But we also know – if only from his Bafta-nominated role in The Responder – that beneath that placid exterior, roiling anger bubbles and seethes.

Their parts are underwritten and their relationship too mercurial to be wholly conclusive but in the moment, there is a wonderful chemistry. Finn Den Hertog’s direction makes full use of their combustible contrasts – younger and older, tall and short, keen and jaded, motionless and jittery.

All this makes for a brisk and punchy tour of two fractured psyches struggling to account for a lifetime of queasy impulses. Worth a watch, if you dare.

THE FIFTH STEP

@Sohoplace

Reviewed on 17th May 2025y

by Giles Broadbent

Photography by Johan Persson

Previously reviewed at this venue:

A CHRISTMAS CAROL(ISH) | ★★★★ | November 2024

DEATH OF ENGLAND: CLOSING TIME | ★★★★ | August 2024

DEATH OF ENGLAND: DELROY | ★★★★★ | July 2024

DEATH OF ENGLAND: MICHAEL | ★★★★★ | July 2024

THE LITTLE BIG THINGS | ★★★★ | September 2023

BROKEBACK MOUNTAIN | ★★★★★ | May 2023

THE FIFTH STEP

★★★

“Director Michael Grandage moves the action swiftly along, although there are no real obstacles in the script that is fast flowing and fresh”

Lila Raicek’s “My Master Builder” is not a translation of Ibsen’s ‘The Master Builder’. Nor is it an adaptation. But it is in no way a new play either even though it has its own, very contemporary feel to it. It’s a play about the dynamics of power, and Raicek successfully brings the female characters out of the shadows that Ibsen originally cast them in. Elena, the wife (an assured and seductively fiery Kate Fleetwood), is very much the co-star alongside architect Ewan McGregor’s starry status as the architect Henry. All the characters are on an equal footing in the story of a fractured marriage. A couple that, on the surface, have it all – but beneath the glossy surface grief at the loss of their son appears to be the only foundation holding them together. Played out in real time, it is July 4th, in the present day. Henry is unveiling his latest architectural triumph while his wife is getting the party in full swing. The arrival of former student Mathilde (Elizabeth Debicki) triggers memories, stirs up past desires and sets the wheels of tragedy in motion. By interval the blue touch paper is well and truly lit. The second act will provide the fireworks.

Henry – the successful and eminent architect – is the architect of his own fate, and of those around him. But this interpretation shifts the weight onto the women. Feminine power is the keynote, yet it strikes a little out of tune here, not quite finding its pitch. The vitriol that Fleetwood invests in Elena’s anger lacks justification. We would be on her side more if we could see the grief more than the righteousness. In fact, with all the characters, there is a sense of it being ‘all about me’, and it is hard to warm to these selfish personalities. The exceptions are David Ajala, as Henry’s protégé Ragnar and Mirren Mack’s Kaia. The couple share a humility that the others should definitely take note of.

Director Michael Grandage moves the action swiftly along, although there are no real obstacles in the script that is fast flowing and fresh. The central theme of the older man’s infatuation with a younger woman is not so fresh, however, and the handling is clumsy. Debicki’s Mathilde is a striking figure, but we are in constant confusion as to where her loyalties lie. We share Henry’s sentiment when he repeatedly declares her to be too beautiful to be real, but McGregor’s words are just as unreal. We just cannot believe most of what he says. Whilst the acting can’t be faulted, the mood swings and the shifts from realism to histrionics hinder the delivery.

Richard Kent’s set evokes the modernism of Henry’s visionary architecture, peeling it back to reveal the watery backdrop of the Hamptons in New York. The shoehorned references to Henry’s vertigo are vivid signposts to the tragic finale, even to those unfamiliar with the Ibsen original. Raicek’s play stands alone, though, so no familiarity is needed. Apparently semi-autobiographical, it is easy to follow, with just enough twists to satisfy. Set within the confines of a party there are nods to Thomas Vinterberg’s ‘Festen’, or Moira Buffini’s ‘Dinner’, but without much of the darkness and the suspense. Things fall apart too quickly, and the manipulations of the subplots are lost in the cascade. More could be made of Elena’s threat of making or breaking Mathilde’s debut novel, depending on whether she becomes an ally or remains a rival for her husband’s love. The punch of Raicek’s narrative is too often softened by platitudes. ‘Men do so little to be worshipped’ complains Elena, ‘while women have to do so much just to succeed’.

There is much talk of the master bedroom, and the master guest room in which past, present and potential lovers can retreat; but the play falls short of being a masterpiece. “My Master Builder” does have the power, though, to keep us gripped. What stands out more is its portrayal of the sense of loss. These are characters that have achieved much and gained more than they could want, but the losses – of love and of life – topple the lives they have built for themselves. We just wish we could care more, and sympathise with the sense of self-destruction built into them, but the piece needs a stronger foundation to truly hold it together.

Tag Archives: Johan Persson

THE FIFTH STEP

★★★★

@Sohoplace

THE FIFTH STEP

@Sohoplace

★★★★

“the direction is slick and there’s always a sense that something is around the corner”