STILL LIFE
Theatre Royal Drury Lane
★★★★
“A bittersweet tale succinctly expressed and elegantly performed”
Noël Coward’s “Still Life” was first presented in 1936 at the Phoenix Theatre, starring the writer himself alongside Gertrude Lawrence. Although one-act plays were unfashionable at the time, Coward was a particular fan of the genre so, in 1935, he conceived the idea of a set of short plays to run in repertory under the umbrella title “Tonight at 8.30”. Most people, of course, know the story through David Lean’s full-length feature film “Brief Encounter”. A romantic drama that portrays the chance meeting, ensuing love affair and ultimate leave-taking of a doctor and a married woman. It’s not a happy ending and is one of Coward’s more serious undertakings.
The sadness and seriousness of the lead couple’s secret affair, however, is offset by lighter moments courtesy of the other characters that populate the refreshment room of Milford Junction railway station. The current production, directed by Tam Williams, brings these contrasts to the fore with a remarkable, site-specific staging in the grand saloon of Theatre Royal Drury Lane. Despite it being a touch more opulent than Milford Junction, it is an ideal setting. The audience are seated at the tables (carriages) that surround the central bar, becoming ‘extras’ to the action while taking afternoon tea. The station café is run by Myrtle (Elizabeth Elvin) who spends most of the time flirtatiously fending off the amorous attentions of ticket-inspector Albert (Antony Jardine). Waiting for her train is Laura (Rachel Pickup) who, when she gets a bit of coaldust in her eye, provides the prefect cue for physician Alec (Alasdair Craig) to come to the rescue. A series of five vignettes charts the course of their romance over the subsequent year.
The sparks that fly don’t ever light up the sky, but the subdued, Englishness of the courtship is its essential charm. Both Pickup and Craig are masters of the understatement. Pickup is steeped in dignity and composure while Craig’s contained matter-of-factness betrays his profession and consequent social interactions. The emotion fizzes beneath this decent and proper veneer and eventually, when they seem to be about to break through, it is all just too late. Elvin’s Myrtle is playful but down to earth, tolerating with unfettered affection Jardine’s frisky station master. Meanwhile, there is Seren Sandham-Davies as Beryl who never fails to add to the delightful dynamics (Jardine and Sandham-Davies also double up – demonstrating a striking versatility – as other colourful characters).
Music is a pivotal part of the production, with Jardine switching from banjo to guitar, and Sandham-Davies linking the scenes at the piano. Frequently bursting into song, they never break out of character – it’s what these café workers do to pass the time of day. The hustle bustle of the station whirls around us like a delicate gale, the eye of which contains the stillness of Laura and Alec’s story. Theirs is a still life, but unseen currents are raging under the surface. The climax is upon us all too soon, and it lands with a sadness. Laura wants to follow her heart, but the unfortunate arrival of Dolly, her busy-body friend (Elvin) delays her, and offstage we hear the sound of Alec’s train departing one final time.
The setting is lavish, but the high ceilings of the salon are a challenge to the acoustics. Words are sometimes lost and aurally we occasionally lose sense of the location. But the cast rise above it, refusing to let the emotional richness go amiss. A bittersweet tale succinctly expressed and elegantly performed. There is no back story, and some of the side story (glimpses of Laura’s home life, for example) is passed over. But we get all we need from the characterisation. And we get more that we need on the tiered cake stands that are brought to the tables. Tea and sympathy – an English cliché perhaps, but the perfect combination in this case.
STILL LIFE
Theatre Royal Drury Lane
Reviewed on 7th September 2026
by Jonathan Evans
Photography by Andreas Lambis
