Lucy Farmer4.5 star review
A play of true contrasts, encapsulating the most theatrical and concealed characteristics of a relentless and enticing love, Private Lives brings a touch of 1930s glamour scattered with modern relevance. The play, continually prevalent and subject to countless adaptations nearly a hundred years from its creation, depicts the fast-paced and painfully funny scenario of bumping into an ex-spouse five years on. Awkwardly, the chance encounter happens in a hotel, where each is honeymooning with their new partners. Private Lives explores the consequences of one meeting by chance, and the revival of old sparks that had never quite burned out. Clementine Rice’s directorial vision develops stunningly in this uproariously witty and dynamic comedy, perfectly capturing the spirit of Noël Coward through the play’s focus on irresistible and psychologically intricate characters.
Depicting the irony and humour that arise from individuals breaking down social conventions, Amanda and Elyot are vividly brought to life by Kate Woodman and Leo Morad whose talents radiate throughout the play. As audiences, we simultaneously despise and adore, condemn yet root for, these protagonists. Perhaps what this play does so masterfully is speak to our guilty pleasures. Amanda and Elyot become the figment of our realities: the toxic connections we keep returning to, and the facades of unvanquished love to which we so frequently prescribe. The delightful depth of all the play’s characters, even Iris Tadie’s minor role of the maid, and their ability to hold audiences in both humour and empathy is testament to the director’s and acting company’s skill.
Particularly pleasing to the sharpest of eyes, was the attention to staging in the play’s opening. With the balconies positioned parallel; the identical sipping of cocktails; and dividing row of perfectly trimmed plants, the production initially operated under the illusion of a split stage. However, the pivotal moment where Amanda spots Elliot next to her undercuts this illusion. It allows audiences to revel in the awkward coincidence of these two exes meeting once again. The moment where Woodman steps over this botanical boundary marks a critical, irreversible juncture. The past meets the present as audiences are taken on the whirlwind revival of Amanda and Elyot’s love affair and the peaks and troughs of their intensely passionate relationship. Rice, as a director, is able to meaningfully explore the theatricality of individual, in true Coward style, and how the meeting of two intense personalities can both enrich and destroy each other. In the words of Coward, the audience were “never, never, never” bored.
The chemistry between Woodman and Morad was a joy to watch on stage, bringing to life this kinetic relationship. Yet each actor stood out individually, with Woodman’s sharp yet charming delivery proving a roaring hit with audiences. Morad’s portrayal of Elyot’s dry humour was especially delightful, proving a master of comedic timing and reaction. Nick Danby brought out Victor’s awkward humour with precision – most notably in the scene where his character attempts to face off with Elyot. Laughter trickled through the audience with the onset of his clumsy mannerisms and hyperbolic fighting stance. Gabrielle Kurniawan, playing Sibyl, likewise portrayed what may seem like a difficult character convincingly well. Sibyl’s naivety and inexperience were seamlessly balanced with a touch of poise and emotion that evoked a complex blend of distaste and pity. The physicality of all actors was most impressive – particularly in the fights between Amanda and Elyot, mirrored later in Sibyl and Victor – marking this dysfunctional cycle with a hint of humour and outrage.
When considering the use of music through the production, it was integrated well into the narrative as a whole. However, there were moments in the play where it felt as if some form of music was needed to underscore the tension or add to the atmosphere – such as in the opening of act two. Likewise, the use of two intervals seemed to break up the immersive experience. It can be appreciated that this may have been necessary for technical reasons, yet a sense of wanting the play to continue working its magic filled the auditorium. It is this addictive impact that resonated mostly from Private Lives. Brimming with melodrama, wit, and sensibility, an evening at the ADC has never been so hysterical and poignant.
Private Lives runs from 11th-14th February at the ADC theatre.
Edited by Abby Williams
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