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Gripped by paranoia

Lloyd Evans

Wednesday, 25th June 2008

2,000 Feet Away
Bush

Relocated
Royal Court

The Chalk Garden
Donmar

But it’s far more entertaining than Anthony Neilson’s new play at the Royal Court which uses our fear of child abduction as the centrepiece for a Gothic fantasy. Neilson has a big fat box of theatrical tricks and, as usual, he carries his characters to the murky rift between reality and illusion, between identity and misidentity. His plays have a sheen of subtlety that beguiles only the unsubtle. True, there are a couple of genuinely unsettling moments in this play but they’re marred by the writer’s fondness for bad puns, silly acronyms and puerile gestures. At one point a comedy German sex-pervert strokes the hair of a little girl and whispers, ‘Hef no fear. I vill protect you.’ Neilson is the James Dyson of theatre. His creations are full of novelty and nifty design, there are vast capacities of hot air swirling around and, at the centre, a vacuum. Neilson has nothing of interest to say about anything. That’s a fault no artist can correct.

At the Donmar the triumphant stewardship of Michael Grandage continues with another outstanding show. One of the productions of the year. On the face of it The Chalk Garden looks like a safe-as-houses drawing-room comedy. Dotty pensioner Mrs St Maugham has engaged a new nanny, Miss Madrigal, to care for her disturbed teenage granddaughter, Laurel. The confused and sulky youngster treats Miss Madrigal to an aggressive cross-examination which she fends off with a brilliant combination of wit and psychological insight. Everyone in this play is bonkers and adorable. The footman Maitland is a deranged conscientious objector who keeps trying and failing to hand in his notice. Penelope Wilton gives a lovely performance as the eccentric nanny with a macabre secret. Margaret Tyzack is a peppery delight as Mrs St Maugham, a poetic old matron who sounds like the missing link between Lady Bracknell and Hyacinth Bucket. Attempting to rouse the sick butler from his locked bedroom she consoles herself with, ‘One is never at one’s best through mahogany.’ Clifford Rose bumbles charmingly as the elderly judge. Complimented on his sprightly looks he observes, ‘Judges don’t age. Time decorates them.’ The script is crammed with nuggets of lyrical wit and every detail of Grandage’s production is presented with such faultless assurance that one wonders how this play ever fell into neglect. It’s a shame the Donmar isn’t bigger but I notice that Dickens Unplugged has just fused the lights at the Comedy. This show would brighten up that dark theatre beautifully.