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

★★★★

“a vital and dramatic production that draws us out of our comfort zone”

Fyodor Dostoevsky wrote his short novel, ‘The Gambler’, under pressure to repay gambling debts. Originally set in a hotel and casino in an unnamed German city, the themes inevitably reflect his own life and his own addiction to roulette. He even bet the publishing rights of all his past and future works, wagering that he would complete the novel within thirty days. He did manage to finish the book in time, but the success of this particular gamble shouldn’t detract from his powerfully cautionary tale.

Criticised for being rushed out and for not being as polished as his major works, it was also lauded for its honest description of addiction, focusing on repetition and loops of behaviour. This is the core that the Kyoto based company, Chiten Theatre, have grasped on for their unique and intensely stylised interpretation of the story. To reap the full benefit of this production, there are two bits of homework to do: become familiar with the synopsis and brush up a little on Japanese culture and its social fabric. The former is easy – it’s a short novel but failing that there are plenty of summaries on the internet. What is more difficult, however, is understanding and adopting the mindset of the creators of this piece of theatre. But once achieved, one’s enjoyment of the show intensifies immeasurably.

All things aside, director Motoi Miura’s staging is visually stunning. Itaru Sugiyama’s set is a roulette wheel that revolves while the ensemble cast are grouped around a table at its centre. As it turns, they break away, moving with choreographed precision. Sometimes it is beautifully fluid, sometimes bizarrely jagged. The entire show is underscored by the pulsing sounds of experimental rock trio, ‘kukangendai’. It appears fragmented and chaotic, yet we sense that there is some sort of purpose. The actors seldom speak to each other, instead addressing the audience. In Japanese, the surtitles are like soundbites. Some are more poignant than others, but all are quite pertinent. Translated by Ikuo Kameyama, we are given a sense of the story, and I guess it is up to our emotions to fill in the rest.

The main problem is that there is a lot of sensory overload. Repetition is key – but it has been taken to its extreme. The delivery is a high decibel monotone and the constant banging of the table to punctuate the lines eventually grates. We do see the various personalities, however. Takahide Akimoto stands out as the central figure, Alexei, consumed by his gambling and also consumed by the opposing feelings of anger and resignation his addiction triggers. Midori Aioi is charismatic as love interest Polina, displaying a cool detachment towards Alexei. Satoko Abe as ‘Grandmother’ – the wealthy, elderly aunt who loses her fortune – injects some much-needed humour into the piece, displaying some remarkable physical agility. Each of the cast has an individuality but more often than not we only see the ensemble working as one machine. Whilst this isn’t a fault, it does distance us from any real emotional involvement.

The structure is perfect, though, for the simple plot. Basically, the eponymous gambler – Alexei – bets, wins, loses, promises to stop, then returns to the roulette table. The show fixes (fixates even) on this loop and we feel trapped within it. It is slightly disturbing and uncomfortable, a little too long, but ultimately powerful. Like the subject matter, the play itself lures us in then ensnares us. We breathe a sigh of relief when it is over but some part of us feels the temptation to give it another go. In that way it is extremely clever. It is a niche experience and will probably suffer from its narrow appeal, yet it is a vital and dramatic production that draws us out of our comfort zone. It might not be to everyone’s taste but it’s definitely worth taking a bet on.

Tag Archives: Jonathan Evans

ARCADIA

★★★★★

Old Vic

ARCADIA

Old Vic

★★★★★

“extremely intelligent, stimulating, challenging and fun”