Private Lives at Rose Theatre, Kingston Review
Private Lives production image. Photo by Pamela Raith
Written by Amelia for Theatre & Tonic
Disclaimer: Gifted tickets in exchange for an honest review
Reimagining a 1930s classic is no easy feat, especially one devised by the incredible Noel Coward. Private Lives follows a once-married couple who divorced years ago, both since remarrying, as they end up honeymooning in adjacent hotel rooms on the French Riviera. Premiering in 1930 at London’s Phoenix Theatre, the original version starred Noël Coward himself as Elyot and Gertrude Lawrence as Amanda. The aim of the director of this new revival, Tanuja Amarasuriya, is to make the relationships in the show feel as relevant today as when Coward wrote them nearly a century ago. But in an effort to modernise such a classic story, is there a loss of what made it so good in the first place?
Strong central performances come from Chirag Benedict Lobo and Pepter Lunkuse as Elyot and Amanda, who focus clearly on emotional and comedic tension. The way they move and interact also creates discord, not just through the dialogue, but in the physicality as well. The piece explores love and passion that is displayed well by both leads, exploring how attraction can be both irresistible and destructive. Being at the forefront of the production, the two actors work together to outline the self-awareness of their characters, which gives the play its trademark Coward humour. Coward’s writing epitomises the “high society comedy” style: elegant people behaving badly while pretending to be perfectly civilised.
Director Tanuja Amarasuriya keeps the production set in the 1930s, complete with glamour, champagne flutes, and silk pyjamas. The overall feel of the production could be somewhat more luxurious, with a rather simple set, especially in Act One. The design by Amy Jane Cook evokes elegance in the second half with a set change, the new furniture and velvet curtains making for a more sophisticated vibe. Rather than a polished, detached comedy of manners, this version leans into the heat and messiness of Elyot and Amanda’s relationship — showing that their chaos feels just as relatable today. The character of Amanda does not fall into the typical tropes of the time, where their independence is viewed as comedic, and here, she is treated as an equal force. Her standing up for Elyot is commendable and assertive, allowing the audience to view her as more on par with him. The cycle of passion and control is clear to the audience here, highlighting how we repeat the same emotional mistakes even nearly 100 years later.
★★★
The production suffers from some pacing issues, where the scene chronology felt rather predictable, even though I had not seen the story before. I found myself wishing the narrative had a bit more momentum - the stakes didn’t always feel as high as they could have, particularly towards the end of act one when the two ex-lovers are planning their escape. Furthermore, I didn’t particularly appreciate the lack of content warning regarding the depiction of domestic violence around the theatre. The volatile manner of this story was surprising, and having not seen a version of this before, it is unclear as to whether this is usually played for laughs, but in this case, that did not land. I didn’t find any part of this portrayal amusing or humorous in any way, and I was disappointed to have not been warned of this before entering the theatre. It is impeccable that audiences are prepared for instances like this, and it is a great shame that this did not happen at this performance. There are content warnings on the website, but I firmly believe this should also be displayed at the theatre. I couldn’t see the humour in much of the second act, finding the relationship between the two lead characters to be incredibly toxic and turbulent. I’m unsure as an audience who we are supposed to be rooting for here, as it’s certainly not the relationship, nor the two as individuals.
The main source of light for me came from Victor, who I thought was played marvellously by Ashley Gerlach. The use of physical comedy here was ever present, and he was able to provide laughs in the more serious scenes as stated above. His gentle manner was a beacon amidst the toxic atmosphere and he helped tie it all together towards the end. The ending felt a little rushed, despite the second act feeling quite long. I think a conclusion could’ve been reached a lot quicker, but in a less rushed fashion, by eliminating the repetitive arguments that took up half of the second act.
Steeped in self-destruction, Private Lives captures that impossible tension between glamour and ruin, leaving the audience both amused and a little unsettled.
It runs at the Rose Theatre until 25th October.
★★★
