“this work remains a classic of the twentieth century and this superb revival is much welcomed”
Many people claim this to be Pinter’s finest play and this excellent production, superbly directed by Jamie Glover, certainly provides evidence for that argument. The strong ensemble doesn’t put a foot or sideways glance wrong, each character drawing our attention in turn.
An astonishing set (Liz Ashcroft) of huge height provides a surreal touch to the proceedings, comprising an impressive backdrop of dark green flocked wallpaper and the most unlikely of tallest staircases that makes each entrance and exit take an age. We wait in anticipation as Max, painfully, stick in hand, clambers down each step. Ruth, however, milks every moment of her regal descent towards the downstairs room of eager men.
Subdued lighting (Joanna Town) from a high ceiling lamp and corner standard lamps creates a brooding atmosphere: light falling onto the wallpaper from the offstage landing windows and from the opening front door, and alarming shadows created through the side window. Dramatic silhouetted freeze-frames between scenes enhance the sinister nature of the goings-on and heighten the tension.
Max (Keith Allen), permanently wearing a flat cap, is the cantankerous and misogynistic head of the household played with a touch of Alf Garnett but with the humour far darker than in any sitcom. He is vulnerable too as the weakness of his impending old age begins to be exploited by the middle son Lenny (Matthew Horne). With brilliantined hair and dapper blue suit, Lenny casually boasts of his needless violence. Joey (Geoffrey Lumb) is the youngest son, a wannabe boxer with little hope of success. The homecoming of the title is that of eldest son Teddy (Sam Alexander), a well-spoken university teacher who has been away for six years and arrives home unannounced with his wife Ruth (Shanaya Rafaat). Max’s brother Sam (Ian Bartholomew) makes up the household, an unassuming chauffeur bullied by his brother, weak and possibly impotent, but who knows the hidden stories of the family.
The central chair is the position of power. Mostly occupied by Max – even Teddy knows that it is his father’s favourite seat – both Lenny and Ruth get their turns to sit in it. The production’s tour image puts Ruth in this armchair held up by four men – she is literally put on a pedestal – and this implied, but uncertain, outcome to the story is one of the enigmas of the play.
All six members of the cast are outstanding, and it is the combined strength of the ensemble – an angry stare, a disapproving pout, a suggestive smirk across the stage – that marks this production as exceptional. But first among equals is the alluring performance by Shanaya Rafaat. No wonder Max cannot take his eyes off her as she draws the men closer with a gentle movement of a leg, her passive demeanour and softly spoken syllables contrasting with the brutality and estuary vowels of the household.
Whether any contemporary playwright would countenance using such casual misogynistic attitudes as a source of humour in a new play must be doubtful, this work remains a classic of the twentieth century and this superb revival is much welcomed.
Reviewed by Phillip Money
Photography by Manuel Harlan
The Homecoming
Cambridge Arts Theatre until 16th April then UK tour continues
“there isn’t a weak performance in the whole cast”
Alexis Zegerman’s new play, The Fever Syndrome, set in New York, is about a driven, intellectual family dealing with life changing illness. Front and centre in the drama is patriarch Richard Myers, living with the last stages of Parkinson’s. His only grandchild, Lily, suffers from a mysterious genetic disease characterized by high fevers. In both cases, though in very different ways, both grandfather and grandchild are afflicted by diseases that are literally attacking their chances at life. It turns out that their family, rife with internecine rivalry, is also attacking people’s chances at life, despite the display of liberal politics and cutting edge business ideas. Zegerman’s play does capture much of the authenticity of American family life, at least in New York City, but many Americans may feel that it takes more than a dogged commitment to the Mets baseball team to make Richard Myers a truly sympathetic character. The Fever Syndrome is disappointing, ultimately, since it is unclear who we are supposed to be rooting for.
The Fever Syndrome is a long play. Unnecessarily long. It’s the sort of drama that Netflix would divide into several episodes, and we’d all be grateful for the break between the intense scenes that characterize unfinished business between father and children. Scenes that draw in partners — both established, and new to the family dynamics — and all the children, past and present, that present in flickering movements, both real and surreal. In the constant upheaval, it’s easy to lose track of the event that has gathered the family together, and which marks the starting point for this sprawling plot. Richard Myers has been awarded the equivalent of a Nobel Prize for his work in IVF (which produced the so called “test tube babies”) allowing infertile couples to have children of their own. In the living room of Richard’s New York brownstone is a space dedicated to all the families he has helped to create. It is ironic, therefore, that his own family is constantly on the brink of disintegration. The Fever Syndrome is, at its heart, about a groundbreaking scientist who brought all these children into the world but couldn’t raise his own. And despite the scientific gloss — the references to RIchard’s work, and later, the diseases that are systematically and relentlessly destroying his life and Lily, his granddaughter’s life —this is what the play is about. Another American family, rent from within by toxic parent child relationships, and playing out psycho-logical dramas that hint at Sophoclean proportions, on their living room floors. This is overly familiar territory, despite all the contemporary trimmings.
Director Roxana Silbert has assembled a cast brimming with talent, and a terrific design team for The Fever Syndrome. Robert Lindsay, as Richard, does, like the character he plays, award worthy work. Lindsay plays the fractious father and Parkinson’s sufferer so well that it is easy to forget that he manages comedy, and musicals, just as effortlessly. He is well matched by Alexandra Gilbreath, playing Richard’s third wife, Megan. Both actors are completely in command of the layered, complex characters that Zegerman has created. But then, there isn’t a weak performance in the whole cast. The adult children, Dot (Lisa Dillon), Thomas (Alex Waldmann) and Anthony (Sam Marks) play out their rivalries in ways that shift the audience’s sympathies from one to the other like watching an intense tennis match. Their partners Nate (Bo Poraj) and Philip (Jake Fairbrother) watch from the sidelines until they can take no more. And at the still centre of the family storm is teenager Lily (Nancy Allsop) and, from time to time, the mysterious young Dot (Charlotte Pourret Wythe) who can only be seen by Richard. The set, designed by Lizzie Clachan, is also award worthy, making the most of the Hampstead Theatre’s stage to create a fitting backdrop to this complicated family’s dynamics. There is much to admire in this production, despite its length, and the lack of a satisfying ending.
