There are not many of these old theatrical war-horses left, you know. Those familiar, reliable, well-made plays which stomped across the provinces for year in, year out have now been replaced by newer, younger models targeting the cutting-edge, ground-breaking yoof market. There are fewer and fewer Agatha Christies, Ray Cooneys and hardly any Terence Rattigan. And no one has touched JB Priestley for years. Apart from Stephen Daldry. Priestley’s dour, northern wordy world has been given a fresh new slant in this production which itself is knocking on a bit having premiered way back in 1992 yet feels a fresh as a daisy – which is oddly the name of a character in the play.
It’s appropriate that a play about social responsibility and the evils of capitalism should have started in Russia in 1945. It was swiftly followed by a London opening the following year and has since gone on to establish itself as one the primary, pivotal works in the literary canon and the bane of many a school kid studying for their exams. Priestly examines, through the mystical appearance of a police inspector, the impact five members of the same dinner party have had the death of an innocent young woman. It’s not exactly a whodunnit as a whydunnit. Each character is intertwined with her death, and each is somehow culpable for it. Am I giving away too much? Not really. It’s the way Priestley unfurls the back-story and the realisation we are all connected that makes it such a fascinating watch.
Daldry’s production and its various incarnations have been touring no-stop since it’s initial inception and it’s easy to see why. This is a stunning production with the audience on the edge their seats throughout and hordes of schoolkids held breathlessly entranced by its magic. A magic that not only emanates from a bravura authorial direction with the words bouncing to an almost tangible melody, modulating imperceptibly to a vibrant dramatic crescendo and embellished with an ersatz-expressionistic vibe which further deepens the piece, but through several impeccable performances. Tim Treloar has the titular role and never misses a beat especially in his exchanges with Jackie Morrison as the matriarch of the Birling family. Exchanges which bears trances of a Kinnock/Thatcher set-to – a metaphor not lost on the older audience members. Jeffrey Harmer is exquisite as Mr.Birling floundering to get his head around his communal responsibility and Leona Allen shines as Sheila. Each has their moment in the spotlight as they are interrogated by the Inspector and each give a superlative performance.Tom Chapman and George Rowlands are superb as brother and fiancé with performances which swirl in the imagination hours after. But it’s Treloar final “fire and blood and anguish” speech which sets the hairs on edge with a power only theatre can muster. This speech on the 80th anniversary of VE day whilst madness brews across the Atlantic serve for a potent, inspiring and moving moment of perfect theatre.
Reviewer: Peter Kinnock
Reviewed: 6th May 2025
North West End UK Rating: