by William Stevenson
It may seem a little soon to revive Tom Stoppard's keen-eyed comedy of infidelity The Real Thing. After all, it debuted on Broadway in 1984 in an acclaimed production starring Jeremy Irons and Glenn Close. Do we really need another production of it just half a generation later?
In a word, yes. This is Stoppard at his wittiest and most heartfelt. And since the play concerns contemporary relationships and theater folk, it's also one of his more accessible works. Sure, you have to pay attention, but you seldom feel that the ideas are whizzing over your head (as you might have during his Arcadia, for instance).
The Real Thing's hero, Henry (Stephen Dillane), is a brainy playwright married to an actress named Charlotte (Sarah Woodward). After a brilliantly deceptive opening scene -a play within the play touching on infidelity -it turns out that Henry himself is having an affair with Annie (Jennifer Ehle), the actress wife of his friend Max (Nigel Lindsay). Through various twists and turns - and more plays within the play - Stoppard artfully dissects modern marriage, affairs, friendship, trust and the lack thereof. You won't find a smarter take on the current state of male-female relations.
Director David Leveaux's impeccable production, imported from the ever-reliable Donmar Warehouse (Cabaret, True West), does full justice to Stoppard's clever text. Visually, as well as verbally, it's dazzling. Vicki Mortimer's sleek sets smoothly segue from one location to another, and Mark Henderson and David Weiner's side lighting is quite effective.
The entire cast, all imported from the London staging, is superb. As the outwardly cool but inwardly emotional protagonist, Dillane brings out every ounce of humor in the part. He wins us over right away, when he lies that "Charlotte's not here" while lackadaisically pointing upstairs to indicate that she's hiding. Despite a weakness for Herman and the Hermits, Henry is a highbrow writer with no patience for amateurs. And when he energetically delivers Stoppard's memorable speech comparing good writing to a well-played game of cricket, Dillane has us in the palm of his hand. For most of the play, though, he subtly and quietly underplays--to equally good effect.
Ehle, on the other hand, is more forceful and passionate as Annie, but fortunately her intensity doesn't clash with Dillane's laid-back style. It just accentuates the characters' wildly dissimilar personalities. Lindsay and Woodward are also expert purveyors of Stoppardian dialogue.
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