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The Living Room – review The Living Room – review
(7 months later)
Can you imagine a serious play about religion enjoying a two-year West End run today? That, however, is what happened to Graham Greene's debut play in 1953. Watching its first revival in 60 years, I was struck by the fact that, however much the terms of reference may have changed, the Catholic church still seems torn apart by the tension between sex and faith.Can you imagine a serious play about religion enjoying a two-year West End run today? That, however, is what happened to Graham Greene's debut play in 1953. Watching its first revival in 60 years, I was struck by the fact that, however much the terms of reference may have changed, the Catholic church still seems torn apart by the tension between sex and faith.
Greene sets up the situation well. Rose, a 20-year-old Catholic orphan, comes to live in a cluttered London mansion with two elderly aunts and their brother, James, a physically disabled priest. It becomes apparent that Rose is having a passionate affair with a married, middle-aged psychology lecturer. There's pressure on Rose from all sides to give up her lover: from her oppressive aunt Helen, as scared of life as of death; from her uncle James, who represents a paralysed Catholic orthodoxy; from her lover's hysterically blackmailing wife.Greene sets up the situation well. Rose, a 20-year-old Catholic orphan, comes to live in a cluttered London mansion with two elderly aunts and their brother, James, a physically disabled priest. It becomes apparent that Rose is having a passionate affair with a married, middle-aged psychology lecturer. There's pressure on Rose from all sides to give up her lover: from her oppressive aunt Helen, as scared of life as of death; from her uncle James, who represents a paralysed Catholic orthodoxy; from her lover's hysterically blackmailing wife.
One of the good things about the play is Greene's insistence that spiritual pain is not reserved for the privileged. He is also ruthlessly honest about the mechanics of adultery, and about the shock to Rose's system when she gets a sudden glimpse of the habitual intimacy between her lover and his wife. But he fails to make much of the psychologist, who seems a feeble spokemsan for rationalism. In fact, the most forceful figure in Tom Littler's revival is the disabled priest. Excellently played by Christopher Timothy, he rehearses all the stock, guilt-inducing Catholic arguments against mortal sin, while clearly appalled by the "dead goodness" of the house he inhabits.One of the good things about the play is Greene's insistence that spiritual pain is not reserved for the privileged. He is also ruthlessly honest about the mechanics of adultery, and about the shock to Rose's system when she gets a sudden glimpse of the habitual intimacy between her lover and his wife. But he fails to make much of the psychologist, who seems a feeble spokemsan for rationalism. In fact, the most forceful figure in Tom Littler's revival is the disabled priest. Excellently played by Christopher Timothy, he rehearses all the stock, guilt-inducing Catholic arguments against mortal sin, while clearly appalled by the "dead goodness" of the house he inhabits.
There is lively support from Diane Fletcher as the more biliously interfering of the aunts, and newcomer Tuppence Middleton conveys Rose's swift passage from innocence to experience, even if I was not totally convinced by her climactic despair. But I came away feeling nostalgic for an era when Big Issues were not charitable newspapers, but something strenuously debated on the commercial stage.There is lively support from Diane Fletcher as the more biliously interfering of the aunts, and newcomer Tuppence Middleton conveys Rose's swift passage from innocence to experience, even if I was not totally convinced by her climactic despair. But I came away feeling nostalgic for an era when Big Issues were not charitable newspapers, but something strenuously debated on the commercial stage.
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