Burton Taylor

Tuesday 16th – Saturday 20th February; 7.30pm

“it becomes clear that although they do not articulate it, the other academics are all far more interested in faculty intrigues, books and anagrams than they in the world beyond their narrow, bourgeois existence.” Camilla Turner ★★★★★

“It was, as promised, certainly funny; the humour was at times subtle and at times more blatant, but it gave the play the certain mischievous undercurrent that delighted and surprised in equal measure.” Tom Pope ★★★★★

The Philanthropist ★★★★★

Review by Camilla Turner

With interludes of dark humour and satire, The Philanthropist offers a perturbing insight into the insular world of English academics.  The stage is an all too familiar living room scene: classical music playing, faded arm chairs, and stacks of books lying haphazardly around the stage. All the indicators are there for an insight into bourgeois living, these clues are confirmed by the tweed jackets and elbow patches sported by Don (Sam Buchdahl).

In the opening scene, a nervous student anxiously justifies his play in front of two less than impressed Oxford tutors.  The dark ending to this scene foreshadows later revelations about violence in parliament. In the same way that the tutors are able to laugh off the incident with the student, they also seem shockingly complacent and aloof about the murders in parliament. This hints at the more overarching theme of the play: the conscience indifference to these academics of the goings on outside of their closed sphere of existence, one which concerns dinner parties, discussing literature and faculty affairs.

The audience is presented with a bleak presentation of bourgeois decadence, of which the characters all seem surprisingly aware and accepting. The dinner party is hosted by Phil (Jon Swinard), a fumbling professor of Philology, incapable of emotional engagement with his charming fiancé Celia (Izzy Whitting). The detestable character Braham (Dave Ralf) entertains his guests with his monologues about his ego-centric social and political views: “Naturally, it distresses me that people are wasting their energies killing each other all over the world, but that’s their problem, isn’t it”.  Though a vile character, Braham is at least brutally honest; it becomes clear that although they do not articulate it, the other academics are all far more interested in faculty intrigues, books and anagrams than they in the world beyond their narrow, bourgeois existence.

Better use could have been made of stage lighting, particularly to compensate for the slightly bland stage. The impersonation of the characters is well executed, each playing out their role with dedication. If anything, the plot seemed somewhat tepid, with no major revelations or developments. But then, such is the nature of bourgeois society: affairs, murders and outrageous political views all feature in the play, yet these seem to fade into the general hub of dinner party conversation.

The Philanthropist ★★★★★

Review by Tom Pope

The Philanthropist defines the “four star play”; it was good, but it fell just short of five-star genius. I’m going to get my criticisms of the way first. The lighting and the staging: whilst both were good, neither were revolutionary – the lighting in particular often seemed to change without real purpose – it did “morning in the study” well, but the evening dinner party was too bright, and hence too innocuous, for what was the key pivot scene in the play. A greater sense of differentiation between scenes, emphasised by lighting changes and greater use of the set, could really help the pace along: it felt at times that the play meandered, that the dialogue became a little loose, the laughter a little too fake, and the rhythm lost.

This is a shame, for the play started well. The opening scene was delightfully crisp and, especially given that this was the opening night, masterfully timed – Moyser played his part to perfection. From this scene, we are left expecting a bitingly accurate comedy about Oxford dons (or at least Oxford dons twenty years ago), and this is what in part what we get. But at the same time the play is really a complex emotional exploration of some really quite interesting characters: the majority of the second phase of the play falls into this category. In both respects the production succeeds, but the question remains: what, exactly, is the Philanthropist about?

These are only relatively minor concerns, however, for everything else about the production was good. The acting throughout was, without a doubt, superb – Jonathon stood out as Phil, the perpetually pleasant professor of philology, and Dave Ralf made an excellent writer-cum-literary critic. This may have more to do with extremely effective casting than anything else – although why the poor girl playing Liv auditioned, I do not know – she didn’t speak a line and her stage presence was almost irrelevant. It was Swinard who made most effective use of the space (Ralf and the others seemed too static at times) but performances from Buchdahl as Don, Whitting as Celia and Omori as the wonderfully seductive Araminta were also superb. The philanthropist should be seen simply to witness the virtues of this talented bunch.

So overall, what should we make of this play? It was, as promised, certainly funny; the humour was at times subtle and at times more blatant, but it gave the play the certain mischievous undercurrent that delighted and surprised in equal measure. The script itself was sharp and sparkled, although as I mentioned above, at times it did rather lapse and the dialogue became pretty stodgy. It is this, the lack of consistency, which is probably the Philanthropist’s main fault: the acting potential is there, but the script and general direction do not give it the oomph it needs to be truly exceptional.