Revu In Praise of Love

“In Praise of Love”

Only five days after reviewing Your Funeral, I am off to see another play at the Burton Taylor Studio about the romantic relationship of a terminally ill woman (last year, many jokes were made about how the Oxford University Drama Society had suddenly become very concerned with incest - I confess that we may have had some part in this with ‘Tis Pity, a play put on in the Michael Pilch Studio in 2024 - have we found this year’s equivalent?). It’s the earlier slot this time, but my walk there is nevertheless cloaked in darkness, as we seem to be from about 3pm now.

Once again, I have apprehensions. Dark, emotive topics like terminal illness need to be dealt with carefully - one can't neglect their emotional gravity, but too much unrelieved misery risks exhausting an audience. It’s a difficult balance to strike. But then, my worries before Your Funeral were proven unmerited - I go in with an open mind. Unfortunately, 2046 Productions' production of In Praise of Love confirms many of my fears.

Terrence Rattigan's play follows the 1970s household of Sebastian (Samuel Gosmore as a self-indulgent literary critic, former intelligence officer and staunch Marxist), Lydia (Nicole Palka as his terminally ill Estonian wife and a refugee who was previously an agent of the Resistance), and their son Joey (Ali Khan as a quick-witted Centrist and writer of terrible drama). They are visited by best-selling novelist Mark (Grace Yu), in love with Lydia, and together they wrestle with Lydia's polyarthritis diagnosis and Sebastian's fractured relationship with his son. Over two acts, the play explores politics, post-war national identity, Shakespeare, chess, and of course, love. It is a genuinely beautiful and thought-provoking piece of writing.

In last week’s review, I mentioned the vital role of humour in any piece looking to explore grim themes and maximise their emotional impact on an audience. Rattigan understands this principle, and fills his characters' verbal sparring with countless lighter moments, and plenty of opportunities for laughter. Unfortunately, it feels like the cast somewhat underestimates the importance of these, and mostly fails to capitalise on them or convert them into laughs. Instead, their performances overemphasise anger, trauma, grief - all of which (regardless of how well-acted) becomes monotonous over a runtime exceeding two hours. There is a wider directorial/acting problem here (and a common one in Student Theatre): all of these performances could use more variety.

Variety, I am increasingly convinced, is probably the most important element in elevating a performance. This is something I've learnt through the last two or three productions I've acted for, and it has completely changed the way I approach a role. In 113, I’ve learnt that, if I can make the audience laugh in the first two minutes, it will relax them and make the crushing revelations later in the script hit them that much harder. Only a year ago, my concern was so often, "How can I make the audience cry at x point?," but I now find it more productive to ask, "How can I alleviate the tension of x point and bring variety by making things lighter at y?," or, "How can I change my portrayal of this character completely between the beginning and end of the play?," and so on. I suspect that director Lara Machado will find the play's deeply emotional moments far more impactful if the audience is given space to breathe, or chuckle, in the more casual ones.

All that being said, some of the production's best moments are when the humour is understood and utilised. I find myself chortling more than a few times, and the end of Act One is an amusing highlight. Most of the giggles comes from Gosmore, and with more careful attention to diction and timing in the delivery of Sebastian's banter, he could be drawing good laughs consistently.

“In Praise of Love”

The biggest problem for the performances, and the production itself, is the trampling of many "cardinal rules" of stagecraft, which I'll elaborate on in the hope that it will be constructive. Firstly, actors should stay within the lit area of the stage, rather than dwelling on its fringes (far too much of the action of the first act takes place right against the upstage wall: most of Eve Thomas' set ought to be brought a metre downstage!), and lines should (almost) never be delivered directly away from the audience. This relates to a larger problem of clarity, as most of the cast could stand to work on diction, volume, and raising their chins slightly to avoid hiding their faces too much. Finally, purposeless feet-shuffling is a major problem here, and many otherwise strong deliveries are weakened by aimless movement. Even if a writer suggests it, actors should (almost) never "pace" back and forth, particularly whilst speaking - it distracts the audience, has no real effect, and people in reality rarely do it! On their first night, none of the cast are totally innocent of these issues, and ironing them out will considerably raise the standard of their performances.

Why care so much about technical issues? Because they obscure what are essentially incredibly truthful, compelling performances. Even when execution falters, it remains consistently clear that each actor fully understands their character, and helps us to understand them too. Palka is constantly believable and occasionally heartbreaking as Lydia, capturing the nuances of a woman trying to look after her family despite death looming in both her past and future. Gosmore totally inhabits Sebastian in all of his vivid self-importance, self-pity, and self-hatred - his performance in the second act gives the production its most powerful moments. Khan and Yu both skilfully present foils to Sebastian, the former through defiant energy and articulate argumentation, the latter with polite, quiet dedication to Lydia.

In terms of design, Thomas' set is functional but somewhat uninspired - it is largely the same OUTTS rentals that seem obligatory for every BT show, and I have shared a stage with most of it before! It is also dressed with anachronisms (the "vodka" the characters drink is yellow, and is poured from a bottle of Kylie Minogue Prosecco - I am not surprised that Lydia becomes unwell after drinking it). On the other hand, I am very fond of the costume design, featuring a lavish three-piece suit for Mark, stylish patterned dresses for Lydia, and a wardrobe for Sebastian that nails the "Public school boy turned literary buff/socialist" look. Beyond looking great, it is the costume design which roots the play in its important 1970s context.*

Potentially because I'm unnecessarily anal about variety and/or the basics of performance technique, I leave the BT with more than a couple of criticisms to put in my review, and I want to be careful about this. I don't want to obscure the fact that I've just seen a compelling and complex play put on stage, nor do I want to dishearten anyone. I hope I've pointed out my personal issues with the production in a constructive way. I must end by asserting my strong suspicion and sincere hope that, in this production's subsequent nights, greater confidence and experience will considerably alleviate the aforementioned constraints on the actors' performances, allowing the fullness and vitality of their portrayals to shine.

2.5/5

*2046's programme does not list a costume designer, so credit here is likely due to Machado, her assistant Melodi Dogru, producer Michelle Tse, and/or assistant producer Ruby Collinson.

Review by George Loynes

The link to George Loynes’s review blog is: https://roomwithreviewblog.blogspot.com/?m=1&fbclid=PAZXh0bgNhZW0CMTEAAadKaD9DWn-5mwBnPczPWh3KXF0Wm5MTE_D9WbXEiWAbpuhhg9yNdnyYWKaYSg_aem_MX4-paKRuQoHXi7vgFXpPw