The Real Thing

'Stoppardian' has become a term that describes the use of quick wit, comedy, and irony to address lofty subjects, love, life, death, and anything in between. Stoppard's writing is what occurs when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object. It's the production of a sublime equilibrium that catalyses a very particular reaction: the whole audience is covered in their own mucus from laughing. When you have a chance to see a Stoppard play performed - do. This is no exception.

Christopher Tomkinson played the charming silver wolf of the affair. His effervescent manner provided the perfect buoyance for the elitist playwright character to saunter through. He was pathetic and heroic, self-obsessed and generous, and master and slave at the same time. The script was fuelled by the very capable Ainslie McGlynn, Tomkinson's lover, and filled out by Emily Weare, Peter Eyers, Benjamin Winckle and Charlotte Hazzard. All actors brought to the stage a sound and heartfelt portrayal of the light-hearted love and loss that the script required.

Directed by Alice Livingstone, The Real Thing is a fantastically enjoyable affair (or series of them!). The stage design and sound design perfectly captured the vignettes of fidelity and narcissism and broken humanity. The only criticism that can be had for such an exciting ride is that there was little special flare given to this particular production. A criticism, yes, but this is also simultaneously a testament to the strength of the script and an identification of directorial modesty.