Long, long ago, way back in 1977, before Andrew and Phil met, and “fiery philosophical debates” asking “fundamental questions about how we live” (oh dear) could still occupy the glittering West End rather than film-to-play adaptations or jukebox musicals, Phil saw the RSC production of Man and Superman at the Savoy Theatre starring Richard Pasco, Susan Hampshire, Nigel Havers and a vintage car.
Coincidentally, Andrew (who must have been struggling through puberty at the time) saw the same production in Malvern. Ain’t life strange?
The National’s entire run of George Bernard Shaw‘s play is sold out. Actually that’s Bernard Shaw these days. The National have dropped the George as (“Don’t George me!”) Shaw never liked the name apparently. How thoughtful of them. Bernard must be very grateful wherever he is. Hell hopefully, as he sees it as a much more fun place than Heaven in this play.
And if you can’t get a ticket for Man and Superman do not confuse it with the heavily punctuated It’s a Bird…It’s a Plane… It’s Superman currently at the Leicester Square Theatre, which has just accrued a glorious 1 star review from Time Out.
Anyhoo, Andrew had got behind on his homework on this one, but was probably wishing he was off to see IaB…IaP…IS to wallow in the one stariness of it all, as, a few hours before the 7pm start, Phil received a panicky email from him:
The complete “Man and Superman” has four acts and can run more than five hours…
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The first, second and fourth acts of Man and Superman are a romantic comedy in which Jack Tanner, an upper-class anarchist and descendant of Don Juan, is bested by a proto-feminist woman, but the third act is a lengthy dream sequence in which Tanner turns into his libidinous ancestor and conducts philosophical debates in the Underworld.
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This “Don Juan in hell” section was omitted from the 1905 London premiere and most productions since, largely because it takes the running time well past four hours. But Fiennes and Godwin held a reading of the full text last January and chose the satanic option. “Reading the full text,” says the actor, “it was clear that, uncut, it’s unwieldy but we also felt that a lot of the power resides in the third act – and lines make more sense in the fourth act because of it.”
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“But it’s the first preview” protested Phil, “things might go wrong”
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And something did go wrong. But we will come back to that.
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Ann Whitefield(Indira Varma)’s father has recently died and left his daughter in the care of 2 men, solid, dependable Roebuck Ramsden (Nicholas Le Prevost) and John Tanner (Ralph Fiennes), a wealthy, committed bachelor (in the old sense) and radical thinker. Ann and John have all the makings of an unlikely couple. Will love ever blossom? It’s the basic set up for hundreds of rom coms or perhaps even, ahem, Lois Lane and Superman.
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To escape potential domesticity Tanner sets off for Spain in a beautiful open top period car 
(Simon Godwin‘s winning production, played out on Christopher Oram‘s designs is updated to the present day) with chauffeur Straker (Elliot Barnes-Worrell in a performance as snappily smart as his costumes) and is set upon by a band of brigands led by Mendoza, played by a gloriously funny TimMcMullan whose delivery of love poems are a comic highlight. And yes, the car – which was about the only thing Phil could remember about the 1977 production, which was also credited as by Bernard Shaw (see right) so it seems we are a bit behind on this one – is real. Fiennes drives it off the stage at one point. But this is not what when wrong.
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The normally omitted Act 3 dream sequence in Hell is a philosophical debate between Don Juan/Tanner, Doña Ana/Ann and the Devil (McMullan again) who has clearly been styled by Ian McShane.
The characters
Shaw postulates amusingly on motherhood, morality, the meaning of life and the differences between racecourses and concert halls. But Shaw’s main concern seems to be that women are minxes who take control and force men into marrying them.
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But prior to these mind-boggling arguments, the Devil entered through a stage trap complete with furniture and a drinks trolley. Phil noticed the trap hadn’t shut properly and sat waiting anxiously to see what would happen. Suddenly it sprang shut throwing the furniture, drinks trolley and its contents into the air, smashing glasses in the process. Fiennes took charge instantly (though perhaps it would have been more Shavian if Doña Ana had taken charge) sensibly stopping the show and walking off.
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The safety curtain made an appearance and we waited for about 15 minutes as the mess was cleared and replacement props were found. Glorious stuff, though we did muse on what time we might eventually emerge from the theatre. 10.45pm as it happens. Not bad going for a first preview that had estimated a 3 and a half hour running time anyway.
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Anyhoo, we were surprisingly riveted. Fiennes energetic performance and playful tone makes his character compelling throughout, Varma is strikingly feisty and charming in her manipulations, McMullan is hilarious in both his roles and Shaw’s text is sparky, complex and over-stuffed with debates that have enough wit to keep just the right side of bombast.
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An unusually enthralled Andrew – who had been dreading it since his discovery about the play’s potential length – mused during the interval “You never can tell”, possibly unaware he was referencing another of B Shaw’s works. Though perhaps Andrew’s smarter than Phil thought. But that’s another debate entirely and we are thoroughly debated out.
Rating
Tagged: Christopher Oram, Elliot Barnes-Worrell, entertainment, George Bernard Shaw, Indira Varma, London, Lyttelton Theatre, Man and Superman, National Theatre, Nicholas Le Prevost, play, Ralph Fiennes, review, Simon Godwin, theatre, TimMcMullan, west end