A Single Man
Park Theatre • 19 - 26 November 2022
Troupe Theatre’s production of A Single Man at The Park Theatre is Simon Reade’s adaptation of the 1964 Christopher Isherwood novel of the same name. Probably best remembered in some quarters for it’s atmospheric 2009 film adaptation, that marked the directional debut of fashion designer Tom Ford and garnered Colin Firth with the ‘Best Actor in a Leading Role’ award at that years BAFTA’s, there’s no denying that Director Philip Wilson and Theo Fraser Steele, (who plays the central lead, George), have big shoes to fill in this latest stage production. Not that the two versions can be directly compared, given the different stylistic languages of the two mediums, but, in actual fact it’s hard not to compare them given just how good a ‘Colin Firth’ Steele makes. It would be harsh to claim that this is all his portrayal amounts to, as he does manage to make his mark in the role, with his own dry delivery as he reflects on the position life has unexpectedly left him in, but the similarities to Firth are there in both look and mannerisms, which I confess at times took me out of the play. That being said, there are worse actors to be compared to, but if I’m being honest the likeness feels a little too close, especially when also playing the same role. Miles Molan on the other hand, as self assured student Kenny, does manage to focus our attention back on this production, and he produces a particularly engaging performance, both as Kenny and as George’s lost love Jim, who returns to help provide some of the play’s more moving moments. This is all made more impressive by the fact that A Single Man is Molan’s professional debut, and one that he very successfully pulls off.
The action, such as it is, unfolds as ‘a day in the life’ of British ex-pat George, a middle aged professor at a Los Angeles university. During those 24 hours we follow George through his daily routine of waking, breakfasting, interacting with his rather duplicitous neighbours, visiting a friend in hospital, teaching a class of students, dining with his good friend Charley before going on to make an unexpected connection with one of his students who ‘just happens to be’ drinking at George’s local bar. It’s a questionable liaison for a modern day audience, even if it’s true nature remains ambiguous, but the more troubling implications are cleverly diffused here by having the same actor also play George’s deceased lover, and in doing so gives the audience the option to believe that George’s interest in the youth, Kenny, stems from being reminded of Jim in his presence. At the end of the day however, George is destined to return to his bed alone. This relative mundanity of George’s new and unexpected existence is examined at length, given its recent amplification by the sudden loss of his partner and, as a keenly observed study of life, love and loss, there’s an acute sense of melancholy that weaves it’s way through George’s day.
The staging (Caitlin Abbott) is kept simple, yet remains uber-stylish… various bits of furniture being reconfigured throughout as we move between different locations, which on the whole worked really well, with one caveat… it all depends on where you sit, as unfortunately in the first half a monologue from George left Steele almost completely obscured from view for the left hand side of the auditorium, positioned as he was behind a piece of set purporting to be his bathroom window. This would not have been a problem had the dialogue Steele delivers at this point not been quite so long. A small point maybe, but another unfortunate distracting disconnect nonetheless.
In the second half however, when George reluctantly visits fellow ex-pat and good friend Charley (an excellent Olivia Darnley), the play really comes alive, and indeed the two hander between Darnley and Steele is one of the highlights of this production that brings with it an energy the rest of the play at times struggles hard to replicate. Granted, the performances remain considerate to the reflective tone of the play, but even when George is not grieving his loss, he remains somewhat stoic in character who, on the whole, mostly relies on his words rather than his actions when, occasionally breaking the fourth wall, he ponders the circumstances in which he now finds himself, cast adrift as an unwilling single man.
At the time of the novels release in 1964, the matter-of-fact nature with which this central characters gay relationship, and tragic loss thereof, would have been seen would have been something quite revolutionary in itself. Missing that same ground-breaking energy on a stage in 2022 makes this a somewhat more pedestrian affair, which, whilst pleasurable to be reminded just how far we’ve come in the last 58 years, means the play needed to try that little bit harder to make the life that even George is at odds with, a life worth watching.
★★★
review: Simon J. Webb
photographs: Mitzide Margary