Bean and Coleman don’t put a foot wrong. Briskly plotted, dizzily paced with doors flying shut and open with split-second timing, revealing and concealing the players with all the aplomb of a delicious Deuxieme Empire farce, Young Marx is a racy, gallivanting romp, making the earnest lead a figure of fun.
What pleasure the play offers comes in the characters Hare has carved from fragments of history. Roger Allam, almost unrecognisable as John Christie, does a superb job, totally transforming himself into a funny, fussy, oddly dressed Opera lover. He makes eccentricity part of the fibre of Christie and superbly shows his extremes: his anger about Glyndebourne when things don’t go his way; his gentle adoration of Audrey; his unflappable belief in the inherent value of Opera as the most sublime aspect of humanity.
Watching David Leveaux’ stylish revival at the Donmar Warehouse, Closer seems not so much a play about people who don’t have children yet as a play about grown up children. Games, set-ups, lies, betrayals, revenge, secrets – the machinations of the four characters (who are the strangers who become lovers/lovers who become strangers) resemble schoolyard activities. Marber’s dialogue is sharp, ugly and vicious; it is often very funny too.
