Love & Marriage (tour)
Donald Churchill‘s slight and inconsequential three-hander is one of those middle-aged, menopausal comedy-dramas, popular in the 1980’s, which take a stab at dealing with middle class, mid-life crises. As a light one-hour TV play, it might have been mildly diverting, but as a theatre two-acter (billed as a romantic comedy), it really does try the patience of the audience.
Churchill, an actor, who was also a prolific television and big screen writer, died in 1991, and so I can only assume that Love and Marriage dates back several years. Contemporary references have been updated to little effect and, although the piece does have its amusing moments, as a semi-serious look at what makes marriage work, it’s neither incisive nor witty enough. Alan Aykbourn it ain’t.
Tony and Ruth (Stephen Boxer and Liz Izen) are married forty-somethings who, after two decades of marriage, have become neurotic about the state of their relationship and their life. Convinced that straight talking is the key to staying together, they are totally honest with each other as to their marital lapses and other peccadilloes. But, when they’re confronted by the failing marriages of their friends (largely unseen), they’re forced to confront their own, more deep-seated difficulties.
Neither of this pair comes across as particularly likeable characters. Both self-obsessed, Tony is pious and self indulgent, while Ruth is frustrated with suppressed desires. If this sounds like potential Tennessee Williams territory, don’t worry. It gets about as steamy as your bathroom mirror after you’ve run the bath. Bill (Adam Faith) is the lascivious married mate (a dentist) who acts as the catalyst. The first-act curtain revelation is about as riveting as it is unsurprising.
Perhaps I’m being unduly harsh, since the author does seem to be trying to get to the bottom of what makes marriages work. Is it total honesty with your partner, or the avoidance of facing up to unpalatable truths? But there’s such an awful lot of chatter and precious little action in all this navel-gazing. This, in itself, need not be fatal (just look at Stoppard’s work), but here, Churchill’s writing is just not up to snuff, particularly in the repetitive second act.
Although Faith is billed as the star of the show, the focus is really on the married couple, who are rendered perfectly respectably by Boxer and Izen, though their loquacious and naturalistic style, under Mark Clements‘ direction, is more than somewhat jarred by Faith’s wooden comic relief. The former pop pin-up seemed under-rehearsed and quite unbelievable in his character’s profession guise – I certainly wouldn’t want him pulling out my teeth.
Is Love and Marriage a mere boulevard comedy or hard-hitting drama with something to say? By the time the curtain comes down to a most improbable denouement, I suspect the audience neither knows nor cares.
– Stephen Gilchrist (reviewed at Richmond Theatre)
