Private Lives
Hampstead Theatre, London
THIS year, the Hampstead Theatre in north London celebrates its 50th anniversary. And quite right, too, as this is no ordinary venue. Set up in 1959 by director James Roose-Evans, this was a fringe theatre before fringe theatre even existed. Inspired by the heady air of New York community theatre, he decided to open a space that would stage new and experimental work.
Originally located next to the Everyman Cinema in Hampstead, the theatre opened with an impressive double bill of Harold Pinter’s The Room and The Dumb Waiter, both cutting-edge at the time. Soon, the venue moved into a temporary Portakabin® in Swiss Cottage – and stayed there for 40 years. In that time, this cramped theatre premiered work by playwrights such as Mike Leigh, Michael Frayn, Philip Ridley and Terry Johnson.
But why is the theatre, which finally moved into a spanking new building in 2003, starting its party by reviving Noel Coward’s 1930 classic, Private Lives? Well, this unlikely work played a vital part in the Hampstead’s history. In 1962, when the venue was broke, Roose-Evans decided to stage Private Lives as a test of whether Coward was any good as a playwright.
His popularity was very low at that time, and his witty and clipped English style had been overtaken by the roaring aggressive tones of the new generation of Angry Young Men, often seen at the Royal Court. Roose-Evans’ gamble paid off and the show successfully transferred to the West End, helping boost the theatre’s finances. Coward himself attending a special matinee, en route to dinner with the Queen Mother.
This revival, directed by Lucy Bailey, stars Jasper Britton and Claire Price as Elyot and Amanda, a couple who have divorced and married other people, but find themselves staying in adjacent honeymoon hotel rooms. Needless to say, they are drawn together once again and abandon their new spouses for a life of passion and passionate arguments.
This is a sound revival, with good performances, but also a straight one. There are no frills and no special thrills. Still, what strikes you is the elegance of Coward’s writing and the beautiful symmetry of the play. This is a witty, artificial style that occasionally prefigures the more provocative tone of writers such as John Osborne. At one point, Elyot says that if Amanda hits him, he’ll hit her back – which is exactly what Jimmy Porter would say to his wife in Osborne’s Look Back in Anger in 1956.
However, Coward’s ideas about purposeful frivolity, expounded especially by Elyot, now sound quaint and evasive. Elyot argues that he is deliberately flippant as a way of avoiding – and subverting, – the seriousness of straight society. This is perfectly understandable as a tactic, a way for Coward, a gay man, to respond to the post-war materialist world, but it also seems quite dated. After the engaged rage of the Angries, it feels a bit fey and childish.
Coward’s idea that sexual pleasure is more fun than lamenting the death of God is fair enough, but it does depend on a privileged lifestyle where men and woman spend all their time on luxurious leisure. In Private Lives, no one works; no bills need to be paid; and the pursuit of love takes all day. As a way of life, it is escapist and elitist; but as an evening in the theatre, it has its delights.
Aleks Sierz
