Review: The River (Greenwich Theatre)

Review by Harry Bower

⭐️⭐️⭐️

Twelve years after its debut run, Jez Butterworth’s ethereal drama returns to London, in the vast Greenwich Theatre. Curiously, the marketing for The River doesn’t give much away. Going in we know the production is star-studded - an actual Doctor nonetheless! - and we know it’s about a Man and his female compatriots, but that’s about it. When it premiered above the Royal Court in 2012, reviews described the writing as ‘puzzling and poetic’ and, looking back, it’s not hard to see why. 

The setting is a rural log cabin somewhere near a river. A Man has brought his girlfriend (known only as Woman) to his family holiday home. Everywhere he looks there are faded memories; of previous fishing catches, of family history, of past conquests. Together they meander through their day and he attempts to convince her to come with him to the river on the moonless night, for the best chances of catching trout. It’s in scene two that things take an intriguing twist. While panicking on the phone to the police reporting his now lost girlfriend, she arrives back home; only it’s not the girl from before. It is someone new to us. The piece swings back and forth scene by scene, exchanging girlfriends, the Man never missing a beat in reliving his past. Are the women ghosts or is this an episode of memory? We are never completely sure either way, but in many ways that’s part of Butterworth’s charm.

This writer grew up in rural Devon, where my grandad would occasionally take me fly fishing. That’s fortunate, because it feels as though that might be a prerequisite for sitting in the audience for The River, and fully understanding the dialogue. It is meandering and protracted at times, but it is strongest in its visceral descriptions and poetic enthusiasm for the sport. Verse upon verse of impassioned testimony from the Man is genuinely captivating and makes for a welcome break from the sexally charged murky back and forth which otherwise plagues the piece. Conversations between Man and Woman are intentionally vague and have been written so as to drive a sense of intrigue, mystique, and fascination. Unfortunately they’re also a bit boring - save for a couple of big reveal moments - and it’s hard to concentrate for the full eighty minutes without wishing something more interesting would happen.

That’s not to say it’s not well written, despite a recumbent plotline. Butterworth’s style is to furnish the text with intricate descriptions of nature, and these crescendos are glorious. In The River we hear of burning sunsets bursting with colour, dense forests and riverbanks, and plenty of living things. It’s surprisingly educational, too. You will leave knowing much more about sea trout than you thought likely at the start of the night.

There is a standout success onstage and, despite the quality of the performances, it’s not the actors. Emily Bestow’s set is a spectacular star of the production, as stoic and solid as the lead character’s emotional state, but warm and homely enough that it makes everyone involved feel safe and comfortable. The surrounding forrest is very cleverly constructed and Bestow is in lockstep with Henry Slater’s lighting design throughout. It’s a triumph of environment building. The piece relies on the audience’s ability to believe that many years of memories exist in this place. Together Bestow and Slater have an impressive and irreplaceable impact on the success of the production. 

The star-studded cast are solid. Paul McGann, Kerri McLean and Amanda Ryan are all confidently  reliable pairs of hands and their collective chemistry drives the intrigue when the writing temporarily but not infrequently abandons them. It seems unlikely this was an intentional choice, but the quiet volume with which they all tend to speak in the vast Greenwich space does make it hard to hear everything clearly, but that really can be the only criticism of these performers and their characterisations.

Usually I write my reviews the same night as I see the show, and I’ll revisit it the following morning before it’s published to make sure I’m happy with it and have nothing to add or amend. This time I felt compelled to sleep on it before writing. The River still baffles me, a day later. It’s that rare piece which shows you just enough to feel as though you’ve seen a narrative tale, but not enough to fully reveal its intentions. A lot is left up to interpretation, which I don’t mind - but it feels as though at times its apathy leaves its audience wanting more. The open and close of the piece are predictable and the ending attempts to wrap everything up in a satisfying way. Instead I felt let down by such a ‘meh’ resolution - it felt disappointing. A few more nights practising its cast is required before The River is ready to reel me in.

The River plays at Greenwich Theatre until Sunday 27 October 2024. For more information visit: https://greenwichtheatre.org.uk/events/jez-butterworths-the-river/ 

Photos by Danny With A Camera