Reviews of Splendour
Studio Theatre
April 2010
Directed by Ian Nichols
Playwright Abi Morgan explains that, in Splendour, she is ‘trying to make sense of something that is overwhelming, trying to meet people on the other side of a big experience’. All she does, though, is to leave the audience thinking that she is still seeking as there are few pointers in this enigmatic, extended one-act piece, with its overlapping, slowly developing story as to how relationships between the four women involved will ultimately play out.
What Splendour offered was a vehicle for a quartet of fine actors to showcase their abilities close to the audience in the Nomad Studio. In turn they all talked more or less directly to the audience, reflected to themselves and, occasionally, conversed with each other, often in brief non-sequiturs yet cue bite was generally taut.
Mary Parsons made an impact as Micheleine, wife of a top military man in an un-named Eastern European country. She had the perfect measure of a vain, pampered woman, living her life through her husband’s glittering but now possibly crumbling career.
Diane Nichols, her less affluent friend, Genevieve, showed that she was not the ally initially thought, with an emotional if somewhat obscurely motivated breakdown.
Anna Langridge interpreted photojournalist Kathryn, the most strong-willed character, with clarity.
Wendy Denny was the unappealing Gilma – more interested in filching whatever she could and, increasingly, reluctant to carry out her duties as interpreter.
If nothing else, Splendour, directed by Ian Nichols, enabled four talented actors to demonstrate their undoubted skills.
Tony Flook
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This was a very ‘different’ play in all respects and the intimacy of the studio certainly added to the intensity. Abi Morgan’s grippingly disturbing play depicts an evening in the lives of four women. The audience is invited to supply the missing imagery of the dictator of an unnamed eastern European state who never arrives - it is suggested in the portrait of him a photojournalist has come to take; the painting that was an artist’s final gesture of dissent, and his presence is felt in the city streets as they are blockaded and bombed. We are shown four characters trapped in a room- waiting. But no sooner is this claustrophobic scenario established than it is twisted and shaken in a pressure cooker.
As the absent dictator’s wife (Mary Parsons), her oldest friend (Diane Nichols), the photographer (Anna Langridge) and interpreter (Wendy Denny) sit anxiously drinking and making small talk, the scenes of the evening they are passing begin to repeat, like a jammed film, and shards of inner monologue are inter cut with dialogue - almost in a ‘stream of consciousness’. Secrets and painful histories emerge as the scenes are replayed. It’s an intriguing structure, which the cast clearly enjoyed working with. It must have been a massively difficult piece to master and the script calls for the actors to have total command of their lines - there are countless conversational loops to trap the unwary and a momentary loss of concentration would have spelt disaster. Those pitfalls were avoided.
The set was simple and stark cleverly maximising the very limited space. Lighting was also very effective. Movement was of necessity tight, but precise, and every ounce was squeezed out of the area. I particularly liked the floor - and floors are one of Ian’s specialties! It made the most of the studio. The cast handled a very difficult script with aplomb and there were some fine performances; the intense scream from Mary Parsons was piercing and full of drama, but suitably controlled so as not to deafen the audience member seated closest (who was me!!) but it lost nothing of it’s impact. Diane Nichols’ emotional breakdown was entirely convincing - I couldn’t help but feel that it was probably genuine since the lines were so very demanding! I’m not certain who was more challenged - the audience or the cast - and it certainly challenged me, but it was clear that everyone rose to the challenge and should be congratulated.
Gilly Fick