My Romantic History

Bush Theatre

1st November 2010

Love in a cold climate

Loving ‘My Romantic History’ by D.C.Jackson, is somewhat of a guilty pleasure, or at least it feels that way. Certainly, this play appears with all the markings of a romantic comedy, man, woman, past relationships, stereotypes and cliché’s, and even I know that admitting you’re favourite film is ‘Bridget Jones’ Diary’ or ‘Shakespeare in Love’ is something you only do to yourself, at home, alone, with a large bottle of wine at your fingertips. Yet I have no qualms about admitting how much I loved this play, because, ‘My Romantic History’ is full of insight, comfort and heart.

Tom and Amy are thrown together by circumstance. A late night fumble after dreaded works drinks and before they know it they’re an item, trapped in a relationship neither of them wants. A play of two halves, Tom’s then Amy’s, we career through awkward moments, arguments, game playing, thoughts, feelings, pressures and past relationships from both sides of the story. We witness misconceptions, preconceptions, failed tactics and watch gleefully as each tries and fails to end the relationship. What we don’t see are stereotypes, or cliché’s. Whilst Tom may initially be presented to us as the emotionally stunted, game playing, commitment phobic male and Amy as the over emotional, clingy, whining and suspicious female we discover that, in fact each appears differently in the other’s eyes and moreover – their actions are not prompted so much by their feelings toward each other but in fact mostly by past loves which still shape the decisions they make and affect their hearts fifteen years on.

In many ways this play is a comfort. Both Amy and Tom are haunted by the long lost loves of their youth; Alison Hamilton and Calvin Kennedy. D.C.Jackson suggests that not only can we fall in love when we’re 16 but we can hold onto this love for a long time afterwards and that it’s ok to do that, that the kind of love that, in many ways will never leave you, does exist. Suddenly we don’t feel so terrible about our own love lives, the tragic parts I mean, we see the characters make 3am drunken phone calls, play the bunny boiler, have awkward dates, not know what to say and see that game playing in relationships really does exist. Hoorah, we are not alone. Watching the past Amy and Tom endlessly attempt to rekindle their relationships with Alison and Calvin I wonder whether at the heart of ‘My Romantic History’ is the question of what love really means to us. Does love fulfil us? Can we be fulfilled without it? Or is it the idea of love that fulfils us? Can we feign that fulfilment by making compromises for the sake of appearances, to appease the pressures we feel from family – like Tom and friends – like Amy.

Alison O’Donnell and Ian Robertson perfectly play Amy and Tom, with depth and understanding, D.C.Jacskon’s dialogue delivered with real punch and commitment. Robertson could probably calm down and breathe, while O’Donnell could give her energy a boost, but perhaps it’s about finding the balance between them. Rosalind Sydney, the so far unmentioned, provides just the right counterbalance to Amy and Tom with her array of dynamically different characters, (displaying a formidable talent) formed with subtlety, sincerity, and colour, perhaps the best being the irritating samba drumming Sasha from Amy and Tom’s office. All brought together seamlessly by director Lyndsey Turner, who presents us with a dynamic, humorous and incredibly enjoyable performance, full of light and shade. My Romantic History is witty, insightful, tender and absolutely loveable - I know I spent hours debating love and relationships over coffee with my best friend afterwards. They say that men are from Mars and women are from Venus but after seeing ‘My Romantic History’ aren’t we all just from Earth?

Design for Living

The Old Vic

11^th October 2010

I can’t pretend to know a great deal about Noel Coward. Beyond a presumption that Cowards plays played with the decadence, flamboyance and frivolity of the roaring twenties and thirties I honestly had no idea what to expect sauntering up to the Old Vic on Monday. Yet, despite, this blatant ignorance I found myself braving a tube strike, delving into my incredibly empty bank account and meeting an old friend to watch, what I have now come to discover as one of Cowards most controversial and in my opinion, revolutionary of plays.

Initially the production played right into my preconceptions, or perhaps idealisations of the era, all the drama, glitz, glamour, ostentation and over exuberant arm gestures that I’d imagined so commonplace within that world and I lapped it up with complete eagerness. Gilda, Otto and Leo, all perfectly played with a vivacious and highly charged energy, drew me into a world of emotional and artistic unrest, lows and highs, and never more such dramatic episodes, arguments and revelations than you would expect from those of a creative nature. The combined wit of the playwright and the players, made for a wonderfully ticklish performance, precise, poised and perfectly placed dialogue punctuated by polite giggles and raucous laughter alike from the audience around me. Yet, for all its zeal and captivating vitality I found myself completely enamoured, not by the glamour of the era or the sumptuous and full flavoured characters but by Cowards exploration of the very nature of love, dependency and what it means to be fulfilled by someone else.

By establishing a relationship which can only function in a 3 way part between Gilda, Otto and Leo, Coward condones and perhaps even encourages us to function, live, learn, love, within our own context, inspiring bravery and individuality from his audience. In fact, he firmly sets down the idea that, when it comes to love, there are no rules (something few, but the brave will openly admit to). Naturally, we only come to accept this when we are presented with characters who we truly believe are only able to function in this manage a trois and, like a song in three parts, Gilda, Otto and Leo are presented in the Old Vic’s production as three parts of a whole, each subtly balancing the other, pacifying, exciting, and loving. As Gilda, Lisa Dillon perfectly plays the personal discontent and strife growing from a feeling of something missing within her relationships with Otto and Leo individually. It is the restlessness created by Lisa Dillon as the unfulfilled Gilda, which in this production presents the threeway relationship, not as a raucous, or depraved sexual romp, but as one which is a fully functioning and loving relationship. For my part, Cowards play and The Old Vic’s production, left me questioning the very nature in which love can exist and wondering if, perhaps in the future I shouldn’t be so quick to judge, anyone…but mostly polygamists. Whoever said "two's company, three's a crowd" hadn't seen Design for Living.