A Slight Ache

Not an all together successful 65-minutes of Pinter - more, I think, because of the venue (too much space in the Lyttleton for such a claustrophobic play) and the performance of Simon Russell Beale than because of the play itself.

Some people have suggested that it's better as a radio play (as originally intended) but I'm not so sure. It's classic  Pinter - a domestic setting into which ever-more menacing elements of threat and emotional instability are introduced.

I just didn't believe in Russell Beale. He was too naturalistic, somehow. And, though I felt he was trying not to be - still too ironic. Not enough menace. I kept imagining how Pinter would have played the role himself.

Clearly, acting in Pinter is a real test. You have to be spot on with everything, I think, or it just seems odd. Claire Higgins was exceptionally good - making the transition from tame 1950s housewife to some sort of sexual predator completely convincing.

Interesting how similar the play is to The City - right down to the identity swap at the end. Given that A Slight Ache was written 50 years ago, and Martin Crimp is considered one of the current avant garde, it just shows how long Pinter's shadow is.

Endnote: two lines in particular made me laugh out loud. The first (Edward: Horseflies suck) probably depends on context. The second (Flora: We'll call the police. Or the vicar) doesn't.