Deadlock (tour)

Surprise! Members of Parliament aren’t always pillars of rectitude. They may be articulate – that goes with the job – but thinking on your feet doesn’t always mean that you avoid the pitfalls. Let alone the pratfalls.

Peter Benedict‘s new play Deadlock is stuffed full of insider jokes and the sort of nuances which a literate audience is quick to seize upon. On one level, it’s a farce. On another, a thriller. There are elements of Jacobean theatre. And it also makes a respectful bow in the direction of Greek tragedy. Without giving away the plot, think hubris.

The author is also the director, which isn’t necessarily a good thing. Here it does work well. Mind you, Michael Holt‘s set helps. It’s the basement of one of those secluded Victorian mansions in the better parts of London which has been converted into a studio for MP Simon Marlowe Simon Ward.

Marlowe’s a gift of a part for an actor not afraid to extract every drop of histrionic juice from it. Ward measures up to the challenge with a bravura display of vocal and physical fireworks. The trouble is that this tends to place the other three characters we meet fighting for their turn in the spotlight.

Poor Karen Drury as Marlowe’s wife Isabel may be the pivot of the central plot but is not given enough time on stage for her personality to register with the audience. Reported speech and descriptions are all very well, but some of us like to make our judgements for ourselves. Not just critics, either.

The first person who drops into the studio is Brett, a young “resting” actor who supplements fringe theatre expenses with a spot of modelling and occasionally providing more private services. Ashley George has considerable fun with the character and its different persona.

Then there’s Mark Dalton, ex-paratrooper, ex-jailbird, currently chauffeur, bodyguard and general fixer for the Marlowes. I’m not sure that I entirely believe Richard Driscoll‘s take on this character. Or is it that certain of the stage properties simply dwarf anything but a completely over-the-top characterisation?

You could sum up Deadlock with the music which introduces each act and is referred to by the play’s protagonist. Sullivan’s Mikado rules over a never-never Japan. The destruction of Wagner’s Siegfried dooms the gods’ Valhalla. I did mention hubris, didn’t I?

– Anne Morley-Priestman (reviewed at the Arts Theatre, Cambridge)