Private Life Review – Instant chemistry turns into something uglier in Noel Coward revival | platform

nOël Coward’s 1930 play, revived by Her Productions just two months before another production arrived at the Royal Exchange across town, is famous for its balance of comedy and malice. At its center is divorced couple Amanda and Elliot, who bump into each other while honeymooning with their new spouses. Soon the fierce love that brought them together for the first time ignites, and they run away together, beginning a dangerous dance of desire and violence.

Both the play and director Amy Gavin’s production are at their best when they tremble on the knife’s edge between physicality and cruelty. After a disgustingly broad first act introduces us to the heroes and their frivolous new partners, things settle down when we arrive at Amanda and Elliot’s Parisian lair and are drawn into their turbulent relationship. Here there is a sense of how quickly love can turn into contempt, as the pair exchange wheezes and shrieks, a slap that is never far from a kiss. Gavin’s intervention in projecting recorded images from the couple’s tempestuous marriage onto the roof behind them unnecessarily highlights what we can already see.

The strongest performance is given by Her Productions artistic director Hannah Ellis Ryan as Amanda, her sophisticated brilliance barely concealing the restless, rambling energy unleashed when she reunites with Elliot. While Charlie Noble doesn’t quite capture the magic that irresistibly draws his ex-wife to him, there’s an instant chemistry between the two that blossoms into something far more hideous. Played just for laughs, Hope Yolanda’s troubled Sybil and Jack Elliott’s suave but dull Victor seem like creatures from another world, bringing the play back into the realm of bizarre comedy when they interrupt the couple’s love-hate experience.

It’s clear that Gavin has chosen to escalate the brutality with some cringe-inducing instances of violence. These then sit paradoxically alongside the play’s comedic moments, which occasionally veer into caricature. By pressing too hard on extremes, this version sacrifices nuance and detail, and struggles to demonstrate why we still care about Coward’s play almost a hundred years later.