Reviews

Alpha Beta (Finborough Theatre)

Purni Morell directs the first major revival of Ted Whitehead’s 1972 play

Tracy Ifeachor and Christian Roe in Alpha Beta
Tracy Ifeachor and Christian Roe in Alpha Beta
© Finborough

Alpha Beta shows a marriage in meltdown – but, look closely and it does much more than that. Mr and Mrs Elliot, Frank and Norma, are a couple in their mid-to-late 20s with a couple of kids in tow. Now, on the cusp of his thirties and feeling trapped, Frank wants out – or, at the very least, he wants away – and their marriage has turned stale and sour. In fact, worse, it's a battleground.

Ted Whitehead's play was a hit for the Royal Court in 1972, transferring into town with Albert Finney and Rachel Roberts as the warring newlyweds. The occasional anachronism ("YOU LYING GET") pings out of Purni Morell's contemporary staging, which turns Whitehead's aspiring Liverpudlians into well-heeled Londoners with a serious habit for home furnishings.

When we first meet them, Norma (Tracy Ifeachor) is whitewashing the last of the walls to set off the flat's poised minimalist décor. Frank (Christian Roe) gets home, stops still and just glowers at her: a look of silent, simmering loathing. Her Elliots might look like a modern, mixed-race couple in a modern Made.com home, but Morell wants us to notice quite how little has changed in terms of marital relations.

Designer Verity Quinn turns the entire theatre into the Elliots' living room, inviting us in to sit at their table or slump into their sofas. It's intensely voyeuristic and flags just how privy we are to their private behaviour. Well-dressed and well-spoken, both Roe and Ifeachor nod to their public faces: him, charming and chivalrous; her, contented and well-kept. Behind closed doors, though, trapped with one another day after day, their bitterness reigns. His, in particular.

Yet, all of their personal problems are rooted in societal structures. Norma is twice trapped: dependent on Frank for his salary, and so answerable to him for her day-to-day spending, but equally expected to raise the children whatever happens. The inequities of their marriage are born of those at large: unequal pay and inflexible employers. Things have moved on, but not much and certainly not enough. The Elliots are perfectly conceivable even now; her stuck at home, him free to come and go as he pleases. By the second act, they've struck up "an arrangement." It was quite clearly more of a decree.

Beneath one of the sofas there's a small cuddly giraffe, sat with its head between its legs, forlorn and forgotten. (Occasionally, Roe adopts the same pose.) It's the only evidence of the Elliots' kids, asleep (or not) upstairs. This is not a child-friendly house and its adult-occupiers are far more concerned with their precious possessions than with raising their children. Worse, it's something they're passing on: a brand new bicycle is, apparently, the height of parental effort. Every so often, Roe drops into self-awareness, breaking down over a birthday present from his daughter. This is pointed, scathing stuff – doubly so from the artistic director of the Unicorn Theatre.

Morell's production is full of smart symbolism, though less strong on psychological acuity. Roe, in particular, finds some sharp images, seeming to deflate when left alone or holding court at an empty table. However the cut and thrust of their arguing, so crisp at the start, drifts into ping-pong, back-and-forth bickering. As precision disappears, tension starts to dissipate and, for all it looks beyond this one marriage, Whitehead's play seems more and more like a bog-standard divorce drama.

Alpha Beta runs at the Finborough Theatre until 19 July