by Richard Bean and Clive Coleman
seen at the Bridge Theatre on 20 December 2017
Nicholas Hytner directs Rory Kinnear as Karl Marx, Nancy Carroll as Jenny von Westphalen, Oliver Chris as Friedrich Engels and Laura Elphinstone as Helene Dumuth in this inaugural production of the Bridge Theatre situated in one of the new developments on the south-west side of Tower Bridge.
The play concentrates on the early years of Marx's life in London when he and his wife Jenny and four children (in the play, only two) and Helene Dumuth were living in a two-room flat in Dean Street Soho. Though some events have been 're-arranged' so that they can appear within this setting and time frame, the scenes presented in the play are essentially 'true', though at the same time the playwrights have noticed the farcical elements of the situation and have consequently emphasised Marx's larrikin nature as a young man.
Much fun is made from Marx's habit of hiding in a cupboard when visitors knock, either if the knock is not a recognisable code (bailiffs and policemen), or if the caller is known but unwelcome (the hapless Konrad Schramm). The police themselves are the butt of a running joke about correct procedures, since they are a relatively new institution. Also the breezy presumption that the comparatively wealthy Engels will provide money for meals and redeeming confiscated property is played for laughs, and the absurd side of the often vitriolic internal feuds of the left-wing refugees is highlighted over deadly seriousness with which they took their various stands. However, nothing can hide the sheer selfish awfulness of Marx's behaviour towards Helene when she reveals that she is carrying their child. Though Engels, Helene and even Jenny acquiesce in the face of Marx's intransigence and in support of 'the cause', it leaves a bad taste in the mouth. Only the death of a beloved son cracks Marx's irrepressible larkiness, and even then he uses the funeral to score points.
The leads are excellent, and the design by Mark Thompson, a revolving cube that can indicate several different London streets or the British Library Reading Room when the 'outside' is showing, and the shabby Dean Street flat or the meeting room in the Red Lion pub when the 'inside' is revealed, perfectly suits the whirlwind style of the play. It is salutary to be reminded that a figure as significant as Marx, usually visualised as an imposing older man, had such a rackety life, and there certainly is an absurd side to these years in Soho, to the ineptitude of the spies and the tortuous relationships between the various agitating refugees. There is an interesting hint that though Marx was the driving intellectual force and principal author of Das Kapital both the women in the household, as well as Engels, acted as vital sounding boards in testing the vocabulary he had to devise to explain his ideas.
The play wisely stops short before the Marx daughters grew up and had extremely unpleasant lives, but there is perhaps indication enough that all was not a light-hearted romp even as we laugh at the young Marx's often self-inflicted predicaments.
The play concentrates on the early years of Marx's life in London when he and his wife Jenny and four children (in the play, only two) and Helene Dumuth were living in a two-room flat in Dean Street Soho. Though some events have been 're-arranged' so that they can appear within this setting and time frame, the scenes presented in the play are essentially 'true', though at the same time the playwrights have noticed the farcical elements of the situation and have consequently emphasised Marx's larrikin nature as a young man.
Much fun is made from Marx's habit of hiding in a cupboard when visitors knock, either if the knock is not a recognisable code (bailiffs and policemen), or if the caller is known but unwelcome (the hapless Konrad Schramm). The police themselves are the butt of a running joke about correct procedures, since they are a relatively new institution. Also the breezy presumption that the comparatively wealthy Engels will provide money for meals and redeeming confiscated property is played for laughs, and the absurd side of the often vitriolic internal feuds of the left-wing refugees is highlighted over deadly seriousness with which they took their various stands. However, nothing can hide the sheer selfish awfulness of Marx's behaviour towards Helene when she reveals that she is carrying their child. Though Engels, Helene and even Jenny acquiesce in the face of Marx's intransigence and in support of 'the cause', it leaves a bad taste in the mouth. Only the death of a beloved son cracks Marx's irrepressible larkiness, and even then he uses the funeral to score points.
The leads are excellent, and the design by Mark Thompson, a revolving cube that can indicate several different London streets or the British Library Reading Room when the 'outside' is showing, and the shabby Dean Street flat or the meeting room in the Red Lion pub when the 'inside' is revealed, perfectly suits the whirlwind style of the play. It is salutary to be reminded that a figure as significant as Marx, usually visualised as an imposing older man, had such a rackety life, and there certainly is an absurd side to these years in Soho, to the ineptitude of the spies and the tortuous relationships between the various agitating refugees. There is an interesting hint that though Marx was the driving intellectual force and principal author of Das Kapital both the women in the household, as well as Engels, acted as vital sounding boards in testing the vocabulary he had to devise to explain his ideas.
The play wisely stops short before the Marx daughters grew up and had extremely unpleasant lives, but there is perhaps indication enough that all was not a light-hearted romp even as we laugh at the young Marx's often self-inflicted predicaments.
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