Man and Boy Review – Ratigan’s Mysterious Encounter Staged in Silver Screen Style | National Theater

TThe National Theater certainly confuses the two. A writer made her debut on the biggest stage last fall (Nima Taleghani with Pashay). Now there’s an established playwright in a space associated with the new and exciting—although fans of Terence Rattigan may not recognize his lesser-performed 1963 play.

It charts the downfall of the megalomaniac Romanian financier, Gregor Antonescu (Ben Daniels), and his reunion with his estranged son, Basil Antony (Laurie Kynaston). The latter has changed his name and is trying to become a songwriter when Gregor returns to his life, besieged by corruption charges and about to be exposed.

Director Anthony Lau has put a completely new spin on this old thread but it unfortunately drains the emotion and tragedy. Set in a 1930s basement apartment in Greenwich Village, the production has been enhanced for this jazz era. Georgia Lowe’s set design nods to the silver screen, with credits written on one wall in Art Deco style font, lighting up every time the relevant actors/characters appear on stage.

The trick is emphasized in other ways, with green plants everywhere and initially a central table replacing the room. It suggests a giant game of snooker, in which the characters may play each other, while climbing or moving the tables. Knock Knock is written above the passage that represents the door. Is this all a big theatrical joke?

The first half is pulled along by the weight of its laborious reinvention. The drama is so arch that it feels operatic – the bigger the performance, the further away it feels from Rattigan’s subtext. Kynaston appears confused and angry but never seems at home. Basil’s betrayal by Gregor, who tries to pimp out an American businessman, Mark Herriss (Malcolm Sinclair), in order to save himself, gets lost in the frenetic conceptual battle.

Some characters are cartoonish, like Basil’s girlfriend, Carol Penn (Phoebe Campbell), with her exaggerated Long Island accent, and Herries’ irascible lawyer (Liu Wan). Gregor’s wife (Isabella Loveland) struts around in silk pajamas and high heels to give a colorful performance, but this former writer turned fake countess is the kind of woman who just can’t seem real. There is oddly balanced or slow-moving action, especially for Gregor, in what feels like a mixture of screwball comedy and financial thriller.

He reacts more when some theatrics are dropped too late. Gregor resembles a darker version of Jay Gatsby and so much distance is created that his downfall becomes emotionally distant, his self-loathing rejection of parental love understood rather than felt.

It’s a shame because this is an explosive story about the corruption of capitalism with echoes of today’s Jeffrey Epstein, but the concepts stifle the drama.