In the week since I saw this beautiful production, the world has turned inside out. Last weekend the frantic resonance of The Old Man and The Old Woman echoed of Covid, of restrictions. The “protests” in Canada were still ongoing, with thousands of Canadians, supported by the American right, occupying our capital to protest perceived injustice — public health measures. The police cleared this out, and within just a handful of days, Russia invaded Ukraine, and the entire world is on edge. The parting moments of this production, things figuratively (and literally) falling apart, a pile of rubble as The Speaker gives THE IDEA, keep flashing in my mind as I watch the daily news.
This production, which playfully adjusts and adapts the script — living in it rather than seeing it as a museum piece — demands the audience think about the people we don’t see, and the pressures we put on one another. The spectacle of performance in the public sphere, in politics. Supported by truly outstanding design, the production leaned in to reminding us that it was a play from the very opening moments, and any time the audience might start to get sucked in to the “world of the play”, pulls that from under us, reminding us again — THIS is spectacle. THIS is performance. This isn’t to say it is serious. One would be doing a disservice to Ionesco to miss out on the darkly comic opportunities in the script — certainly not a risk here. It is shockingly funny, irreverent, self referential. And as such, also deeply moving and resonant.
It is surprisingly uncommon to see this sort of playful irreverence on the English stage. Try to see it if you can, before March 5.