Published at 09:40, Friday, 02 July 2010

AH, The Caretaker... It takes me back to my days studying English at Durham University when, roll-up dangling nonchalantly from mouth, I would saunter around the college bars proclaiming such wisdom as: “Harold Pinter really makes one confront the terror beneath everyday banalities, yah...”.

I was a pretentious idiot, of course. But I knew a good thing when I saw it, and Pinter, Beckett, the Theatre of the Absurd, tragicomedy and all the rest of it struck a chord with me in a way, I confess, that drama hadn’t really done before.

Of course, being lazy as well as pretentious, I never actually went to see The Caretaker performed – and last Wednesday I realised what I’d been missing out on.

The renowned London Classic Theatre company, now celebrating its 10th year on tour, was good enough to bring the play to the Queen’s Hall, Hexham, and the rich, vibrant, sometimes hilarious, suddenly terrifying result was way more engaging than any cold analysis of the text.

Richard Stemp was impressive as the kindly but vulnerable Aston, bringing a staccato, blunted edge to the role that is undoubtedly the most complex in the play.

Of course, we don’t believe he’ll ever get round to building the shed he talks of, but Stemp’s sympathetic portrayal meant his self-deception became something to pity rather than hold in contempt.

Less appealing was the elderly drifter, Davies, given accommodation by Aston until he gets himself “sorted out”.

His famous delusion – that he’ll retrieve his papers from Sidcup as soon as the weather breaks – took on greater and greater poignancy every time it was uttered by actor, Nicholas Gasson, who also did well to illustrate the crushing addiction that is incessant talking.

Looked at logically, many of Davies’s utterances are redundant but most act to reassert the power balance in his favour.

Gasson had the ability to make us giggle at the most absurd, and to shiver as we noticed the rising undercurrent of violence.

With Aston’s brother, Mick, it’s not so much an undercurrent as a series of huge, crashing waves, interspersed by an eerie calm.

Nicholas Gadd was utterly terrifying in the role, which demands a unique talent – the ability to make repeated lines like “How did you sleep?” into horrendous threats.

Mick’s character works by drawing the audience in as effectively as Aston and Davies, and it was notable that Gadd’s more poetic passages were rendered with such rhythmic beauty that one could almost forget his faults.

Language, in Pinter’s hands, can hypnotise, hurt, impress, destroy, and Gadd had all the acting agility necessary.

Last Wednesday’s performance was also given a tremendous boost with a quality stage set.

Aston’s dusty room was suitably claustrophobic, the props arranged to bring out the Laurel and Hardy-esque physical comedy and every detail cleverly arranged to stress the input of the three personalities.

All in all, artistic director Michael Cabot should be proud – The Caretaker was, as he’d hoped, the perfect way to mark a major anniversary.

Robert Gibson

Published by http://www.hexhamcourant.co.uk