L’Amante Anglaise

To say that truth is stranger than fiction is a mere homily when one looks at the story behind this fascinating play. Yes, a woman of slight build did murder her fat, deaf and dumb, cousin in 1949… or says she did. But how could she dismember the body and subsequently throw pieces from the railway bridge under trains? And what happened to the head?

If this were Agatha Christie then Poirot would have tied up a neat parcel, ignoring all the plotholes and inconsistencies, in the last few pages and we would know the ‘what’ without concerning ourselves with the ‘why’. But Duras is French, and her interest is far more esoteric. As Interrogator One says (Sic) “I’m not interested in the facts, I’m interested in what lies behind the facts.” Questions are asked, but they’re the wrong questions. There are answers, but no explanations, and the clues are there but they are scant and subtle. It is left to us, the audience, to decide, and the director doesn’t allow us to be distracted. There is no change of lighting and the set consists of two chairs facing each other, with the audience on either side. The two actors move from the chairs only once, when they change character – and yet this is one of the most satisfying pieces of theatre you will see this, or any other year. What, then, does Laurence Strangio do as director? Well, as he told me, he helps the actors to find the truth, then he gets out of its way. But more than that, he trusts his actors and they trust him, and the result is no sign of acting, but only beautifully realised truth. The result is exquisite.

It takes actors of the highest order to make this work, and Strangio has them in Rob Meldrum and Jillian Murray. Small wonder that Murray, in particular, won a Green Room Award for her performance. She is really quite extraordinary as self-confessed murderess Claire Lannes. She conveys loneliness, madness (or is it autism?) repressed sexuality, indifference, pain, disdain and a thousand other complex emotions. She chills our blood and breaks our hearts at the same time; and the more she reveals, the more remains hidden. All young actors (and would be directors) need to see this mesmerising performance. As the first interrogator she becomes invisible, never intruding, a faceless voice, interested but not driven.

Rob Meldrum is excellent as the cold and controlling husband who doesn’t understand his wife and has no desire to try. His wonderfully controlled, matter of fact, performance sets the tone for what is to come. We know him, and we can see that he is capable of carnal desire, but not of any deep emotional connection. More than that, in the moments when I had to look away from Claire for fear I would cry, as Interrogator Two he is quite marvellous; hanging on to every word and trying to understand what is really going on inside Claire.

This is rare and heady theatre, where we breathe the air that the actors exhale. In a week of bitter disappoint in the theatre for me, this sublime production restored my faith that Art and Craft co-exist and truth in theatre is alive and well.

Coral Drouyn