Back in 1983 I had the extraordinary privilege of witnessing Albert Finney and Tom Courtenay deliver two of the most theatrically ebullient performances about the grandeur and grimness of a life in luvvydom, ever committed to celluloid. This was Peter Yates film version of The Dresser which relied upon Ronald Harwood’s exceptional scripting of his original play to generate considerable critical success, including 5 Academy Award nominations.Last night at The Duke of York’s Theatre, Reece Shearsmith and Ken Stott admirably attempted to fill the shoes of giants as Norman and Sir, in Sean Foley’s new West End production. Sir, the simultaneously crumbling yet enduring ancient Shakespearean thesp, is in the grip of a nervous breakdown as he prepares to deliver his 227th King Lear to a provincial theatre’s full house, which unnervingly appears to have been targeted for special treatment by Herr Hitler’s Luftwaffe. Norman, his long-suffering and stoically resourceful dresser, employs every means to coax his charge into preparedness for the evening performance. The strengths, flaws, vulnerabilities and vanities of the pair, dance a tango of deference and resentment borne of years in close proximity and an inherent acceptance of their mutually dependent roles.
For all its emotional zig-zagging between twinkle-eyed bluster and pitiful collapse, Stott’s Sir plays second-fiddle to Shearsmith’s Norman. As the actor manager, he dreams of recognition and acidly belittles the achievements of his diminutive, (yet knighted) rivals. Norman endures the endless re-telling of theatrical anecdotes and determinedly papers-over his master’s insecurities with a mix of tea, Dunkirk spirit and barely disguised impatience (whilst himself, furtively swigging from a brandy bottle to bolster his flagging reserves of energy). The two weave the story of theatrical life on Michael Taylor’s revolving set, which evocatively conveys both cramped fusty dressing room and front-of-curtain states. Selina Cadell strikes a precise and rectitudinal tone as the long-suffering, yet devoted company manager Madge, whilst Harriet Thorpe conveys both majesty and a weariness for life on the road, as Sir’s long-term girlfriend and on-stage Cordelia.
Whilst this production doesn’t quite hit the heights of the aforementioned film version, it is still a wonderful evening of theatrical brio where the ultimate star is Harwood’s barbed and sensitive script, drawn from his personal experience as Sir Donald Wolfit’s dresser in the mid-1950s.
Bringing Lillian Hellmann’s favourite play, The Autumn Garden, to the London stage for the first time, Anthony Bigg's production is a delight.