The Real Thing
There are evenings when I am truly are reminded why I love the theatre. There are endless shows that are fun, scary, upliftingly frivolous – but it’s plays like Tom Stoppard’s The Real Thing that really enforce that love of theatre. Stoppard’s words are so beautifully crafted, his humour so delicately placed and the core of his work so intelligently constructed that every moment is vital, every breath an essential part of the whole. And to make that work you need a cast of supremely talented actors who can deliver, with a natural precision, all those component parts. On this occasion we had just that. Rebecca Johnson is delightful as Charlotte, both fragile and strong, Adam Jackson-Smith is excellent as Max and Flora Spencer-Longhurst is wonderful throughout as Annie. Of course a huge swathe of the audience had turned up simply to see Laurence Fox and who could blame them, and it is great to say that he more than delivers in that central role of Henry despite never getting his shirt off as seen on the poster for the play (trading standards perhaps?). But joking aside Fox is magical, precisely delivering Stoppard’s sharp lines but never at the cost of either the comedy or the drama, a delightful balancing act of mannered and natural. This is a play about the fragility of relationships, attraction, fidelity and infidelity and of course the nature of true love – and as a piece of theatre it really is “The Real Thing”.
Theatre Royal Brighton
30 October 2017
Andrew Kay
Rating: