By Kyle Osborne
Like a catchy intro to a pop song, Tom Stoppard’s ‘The Real Thing’ hits its stride immediately, pulling us into its unique rhythm and getting to the chorus early enough to keep our attention through a riveting first act.
In London, a man waits impatiently for his wife to return from a work trip to Switzerland. She finally comes in, acting as if everything had gone fine—but through the course of an increasingly tense interrogation, we learn that the woman wasn’t where she said she was. In fact, she was having an affair. This first scene lasts only a few minutes before going to black. The lights come back up to reveal that the scene we just watched was in a play. A play within a play. The cheating wife? She’s actually the real life wife of the man who wrote the play in which she performed. Nice. Now we are captivated, and although the first 20 minutes never quite live up to the last twenty minutes, there are strokes of magic.
The playwright of the play within our play, is Henry (played by Teagle F. Bougere) one of those guys who is extremely talented and knows it just a little too well to be completely likable. He’s quite sophisticated in some areas, and willfully uncouth in others, preferring pop songs spinning on his turntable to the classic Operas.
Over the course of the play, other marital separations (yes, more than one) will take place, mostly following affairs—cheating. Perhaps Mr. Stoppard has a point of view on that subject, but the script seems fairly neutral, neither praising nor condemning its straying characters. It just seems to be part of the landscape of the creative types and the creative world they inhabit.
The play’s semi-philosophical dialogue eventually gets somewhat circular and long-winded in the second act, and when it’s over we aren’t thinking it should have gone on too much longer. However, there isn’t a weak link in the cast. The actors are spot on and in command of their tricky roles.
The best reason to see the show, though, is the amazing in-the-round stage that was built specifically for this production inside one of the theatre’s already intimate houses. The effect is to truly feel as if one is eaves-dropping inside the apartment of the character. To have the action take place within mere feet of the first several rows really takes the audience member close enough to regard the actor’s most subtle expressions. Are they lying? Are they telling the truth? You can do your own body language reading from the short distance. Of course, you might be wrong—these are some deceitful bastards (ladies included) and they have pockets full of perjuries.
Which brings us to one other point: the characters really aren’t so relatable. They are smarter and more attractive than we, and their foibles don’t seem to hurt them as much as they do to “normal” people. That makes it harder to empathize with them, but not impossible.
Oh, and the costumes are suitably awful. If you were in Europe in 1982, you’ll know what I mean-they are perfectly accurate.
If you go, you’ll love the staging, the intimacy and the performances—just don’t expect to leave the theatre skipping and whistling a happy tune.
“The Real Thing,” by Tom Stoppard continues at Studio Theatre through June 30th. Tickets, information, and a cool look at how they built that awesome stage can be found at: http://www.studiotheatre.org/