The Glass Menagerie
The play is set in 1930s America but it's very accessible àdysfunctional families are always recognisable
| 05 Feb 2008
The Glass Menagerie is not a comedy, but with director Jemima Levick's deft touch this seamless production is often very funny, capturing both the humour in the tragedy and the pathos in the lighter moments of this famous family drama.
The play is set in 1930s America but it's very accessible – dysfunctional families are always recognisable. Amanda Wingfield has brought up her children alone after her husband left her. With a son itching to fly the family nest, she has set her sights on marrying off her exceedingly shy and disabled daughter to a gentleman caller.
The acting is uniformly excellent. Joseph Arkley's warm presence fills the auditorium as son Tom, the narrator of the story. A passionate young man, he tries to free himself from his family's clutches only to find there is no such escape. Barbara Marten's Amanda is a tour de force: she trills and flirts her way out of despair with all the subtlety of a freight train, barely managing to conceal the neurotic fears she holds for her children's future. Living in a fantasy world of glass figurines, Nicola Harrison's doll-like Laura has retreated into the world of her imagination. There is a haunting, glassy quality to her eyes that emphasises her disconnection from reality. Antony Eden's Gentleman Caller is a social chameleon however, able to adapt to all situations. A natty dresser, he is gregarious and charming, and if Amanda's over-the-top flirting throws him, he is too suave to show it.
Part lament for lost youth, The Glass Menagerie is also about the disappointment of adulthood and the extinguishment of hope, but it briefly, like the candle set on the floor in the last scenes, shines as the culmination of dreams. The moments when Jim attempts to connect with the fragile Laura are magical and she is radiantly transformed by his attentions. With performances as polished as a Southern gentleman's manners, it's well worth a visit to the Wingfield house to see this humorous and tender production.
The play is set in 1930s America but it's very accessible – dysfunctional families are always recognisable. Amanda Wingfield has brought up her children alone after her husband left her. With a son itching to fly the family nest, she has set her sights on marrying off her exceedingly shy and disabled daughter to a gentleman caller.
The acting is uniformly excellent. Joseph Arkley's warm presence fills the auditorium as son Tom, the narrator of the story. A passionate young man, he tries to free himself from his family's clutches only to find there is no such escape. Barbara Marten's Amanda is a tour de force: she trills and flirts her way out of despair with all the subtlety of a freight train, barely managing to conceal the neurotic fears she holds for her children's future. Living in a fantasy world of glass figurines, Nicola Harrison's doll-like Laura has retreated into the world of her imagination. There is a haunting, glassy quality to her eyes that emphasises her disconnection from reality. Antony Eden's Gentleman Caller is a social chameleon however, able to adapt to all situations. A natty dresser, he is gregarious and charming, and if Amanda's over-the-top flirting throws him, he is too suave to show it.
Part lament for lost youth, The Glass Menagerie is also about the disappointment of adulthood and the extinguishment of hope, but it briefly, like the candle set on the floor in the last scenes, shines as the culmination of dreams. The moments when Jim attempts to connect with the fragile Laura are magical and she is radiantly transformed by his attentions. With performances as polished as a Southern gentleman's manners, it's well worth a visit to the Wingfield house to see this humorous and tender production.
The Royal Lyceum Theatre, Edinburgh, until 9 Feb
http:// www.lyceum.org.uk