Review: Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?

*****

I worry about long productions. The realisation that  Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? would go on for nearly three hours left me apprehensive, priming my attention span for the task at hand – however, my fears were proven to be unfounded. The cast embodied their roles with commitment and an often astonishing realism that kept me gripped at all times. This production dished out everything, from the boisterous and humorous down to the more somber and slightly unnerving – and everything in between.

Becca Schwarz burst onto the scene with an insurmountable energy and she could not be stopped. From the get-go, Martha let the audience know the status quo, as she was the first taste we were to get of the no-holds-barred nature of the production. Schwarz’s Martha was a brutally honest trash-talker, emasculating her husband with every word she spoke. But even with such a large stage presence, Schwarz was not to eclipse Ben Glaister as her husband, George.

From his physicality to his sarcastic tone, Ben Glaister positively embodied the highly passive aggressive, yet submissive George. The audience waited with baited breath as Glaister unveiled revelation after revelation – we rode the emotional wave with him, intensifying as he became more ruthless. The back and forth’s between himself and Joe Viner were notable as they both captured so many aspects of humanity – the awkwardness of silence and the roundabout conversations that led nowhere. Finally, Viner’s and Schwarz exchanges were particularly amusing – she the man-eater and him as the helpless victim.

Cate Kelly’s portrayal of Honey was equal parts naiveté and sickliness carrying out the portrayal of a near-childlike character with an ineffable maturity and confidence.

Almost everything she uttered in the first act drew out throngs of laughter from the audience – the least aware of the four characters, she provided a dose of lighthearted innocence.

Each actor gave their character such depth, and even the moments when only one person was on the stage saw continual confidence and presence.

So much of the show’s dialogue revolved around someone fixing a drink, wanting a drink, or having had too much to drink: the placement of the bar was therefore critical and very well done. In vino veritas held its truth, as with each swig the characters got more honest, more decadent, and rawer. The set included all the staples of a middle-aged couple’s home – the piano being a particularly authentic touch. Louis Catliff’s direction seemed to emphasise dynamism of movement and no one person seemed isolated: every entrance and exit seemed to come together in choreographic harmony.

Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? was immediately engaging and the emotionally diverse four-person cast kept me gripped – not a moment of my attention was lost on them.