Review: Man and Boy (Dorfman Theatre)

Review by Sam Waite

⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️

Received poorly and short-lived following its Broadway premiere in 1963, Terence Rattigan’s Man and Boy was met with far greater success when revived in the mid-2000s by director Maria Aitken. Given this modern-day success, it seems fit for Rattigan’s play to grace London’s National Theatre, where it is currently playing in the Dorfman auditorium, but it’s hard not to wonder whether those early stumbles reflected issues left unresolved within the play itself. Was an audience four decades on simply more welcoming of the material, or did Maria Aitken’s vision elevate the work?

Man and Boy is set entirely within a basement apartment, the home of musician Basil Anthony. An Oxford-raised but determinedly American citizen, Basil soon has his well-guarded background thrust into the light with the arrival of his estranged father, Gregor Antonescu. Vasile Antonescu, to use Basil’s birth name, is the son of this ruthless Romanian financier, who has decided that his son’s apartment will be the perfect place to meet with an associate in order to tie up the underhanded affairs of a lucrative merger.

An early casualty of the play’s structure is the character of Carol Penn – an understudy working at a New York theatre, she appears only in the earlier half of Man and Boy’s first act, spending much of the real-time play performing in one of her own. Phoebe Campbell does a fine job of bringing Carol’s good natured sweetness to life, a genuine warmth shining through a broad New York accent, so it’s a shame when the actor leaves the stage so early and remains absent until the curtain call Likewise, Isabella Laughland has some strong moments as Gregor’s wife, going by the purchased title of Countess Antonescu, but with the character’s first appearance coming some way into the second act, it’s hard to get attached having already had one charming woman taken from us with so much potential left unmined.

Another pair of supporting figures, Malcolm Sinclair and Leo Wan as the associate and an accountant who has found dangerous discrepancies, respectively, fare slightly better for being more tightly linked to Gregor. In particular, Wan does great work getting across a building frustration as Gregor steamrolls over his hard-fought points around shady dealings, and really sells the sense of defeat when another win for Team Antonescu seems inevitable. Seeming at first to be a genuine rival to Gregor, Sinclair is both convincing as a fellow less-than-upstanding businessman, and suitably lecherous when certain aspects of the character become more openly revealed.

Having worked alongside director Anthony Lau on his Sheffield Crucible production of The Crucible, Georgia Lowe has crafted a clear visual identity for their work together. With plain green flooring and simple wooden tables as the primary setting, there is perhaps a suggestion that we should put together the apartment for ourselves, allowing the stage to remain unobstructed. While this welcomely allows the performers to take focus, it does also lead to a curious amount of the show’s movement involving climbing up and down from tabletops. In Lau’s Crucible this seemed intended to remind us of the ever-watchful citizens of Salem, here it more often raises questions around why the characters are climbing on furniture, especially when changes of location within the apartment leave it unclear what item of furniture they are implied to be mounting at any given time.

Returning to the performances for a moment, I was truly impressed with Laurie Kynaston’s work as Basil, something I feared early on may not be the case. With the titular Boy so easily pushed aside by his more forceful father, it seems initially that Basil will prove to be somewhat of a blank slate, until the latter moments of act one find him at in more tenuous, highly emotional state. From there, Kynaston’s work in the second act puts across the nuances and confusion of a deeply complicated relationship, ensuring that those early moments of flatness are recognised as a quietness of the character rather than any fault in the actor’s portrayal.

As the show’s central figure, though it does take a good chunk of act one for this to become clear, Ben Daniels brings to life all the fast-talking, steamrolling energy of Gregor, ensuring that the character is never truly charming or likable, but that we can see how he was won over so many associates as well as a much younger wife, not to mention an array of mistresses. Flanked by Nick Fletcher’s Sven, with whom he shares a dignified but genuine chemistry as not only longstanding associates but also dearly-held friends, Daniels is unafraid to lean into the emotional ugliness that makes Gregor such a compelling character, even as we hope desperately to witness his well-deserved downfall.

Lau shows a firm command of Man and Boy’s difficult tone, ensuring that the jokes land despite the harsh realities coming to light around them. His cast climbing up and down from tables and chairs is confusing at times, but the work being done atop the furniture is well-honed and easier to comprehend. There are moments where conversations physically overlap, and though it is quickly apparent that the characters are further apart than the staging suggests, as well as who can or cannot hear each other, this is such a rarity for the production that I wouldn’t be surprised to find that some were more confused by it, or had wished as I had that the technique had been employed more frequently.

Two of the production’s most intriguing touches left me with yet more questions, chiefly what impact they may have had on some attendees’ engagement with the work. With the show performed in the round, one wall is home to a cinema-style sign namechecking the play and listing its cast and characters. Lighting up their names and fading them back into darkness as they enter and exit the stage is an interesting touch, but also a strange one, Though the assistance in keeping up with the characters coming and going is helpful, it does rob some of the power form the Countess’ eventual appearance, making her surprise entrance an early inevitability. Of course, those seated directly below the sign wouldn’t have such an issue, which leaves me to question why such a bold design choice was included when a sizeable chunk of the audience would miss it entirely.

The second element is the thrilling choice to have the overhead lighting rig, which rises from nearly the floor of the stage at the beginning of the performance, to later be lowered and angled to represent the crushing weight of Gregor’s misdeeds catching up with him. It’s exciting, it cleverly shows off Elliott Griggs’ strong but otherwise more muted lighting design, but I couldn’t help but notice that it placed the rig below the audience highest up. While these moments are exciting, and the execution a technical marvel, they are also some of the moments where the actors were delving into richly felt, well-performed emotional low points, and it seems an odd choice to obstruct some of the audience from being able to witness the performances in full.

Despite the lead performances and those daring visual touches, Man and Boy remains curiously difficult to engage with, not compelling enough have a truly moving finale. Nor are its characters drawn so grotesquely that rooting for their downfall becomes its own sick enjoyment. It would be unfair to lay this at the feet of Anthony Lau, or anyone involved with this production, however – as I sit with my thoughts on Man and Boy, both play and production, I’m struck by that still-present question with which I began: Were audiences in 1963 not ready for this show, or will some simply never find the intended connection?

Putting aside this unevenness, Lau and co have done some truly strong work here, including Kynaston’s dynamic act two turn and Daniels’ act-one steamrolling of an incensed accountant being truly compelling moments of theatre. All a show’s team can hope for is to find its audience, and as many others rose to their feet in rapturous applause, I recognised that what may leave some viewers cold can have a clear, intense impact on others.

Man and Boy plays at the Dorfman Theatre until March 14th

For tickets and information visit https://www.nationaltheatre.org.uk/productions/man-and-boy/

Photos by Manuel Harlan