THE STIFLING rigidity of Victorian society reserve contrasts tellingly with the emerging female freedoms of the 1920s in a double helping of Galsworthy’s evergreen charting of the Forsyte family.
And what a fine feast it provides. Brilliantly scripted, wonderfully staged and blessed with wonderful acting throughout it’s hard to know where to begin.
Minimal set and rarely more than just a handful of unremarkable chairs forces the burden of engagement firmly on the actors. Full costumes help round out characters and extensive cast doubling coupled with a rolling choreographed progression from scene to scene means the total five-hour running time races along and never drags.
That Galsworthy’s novels have habitually translated so well to the stage and screen could have a lot to do with their very conflicting humanity. No character is entirely evil, nobody utterly free of faults. All, particularly the trio made central in this production, are likeable and questionable in varying parts.
Irene, so much the focus for the first part of this production, comes the closest to a spotless character but, in an excellent performance from Fiona Hampton, retains enough drive, resolve and, in later moments, intransigence to steer clear of being a mere victim.
Fleur, from the younger generation but superbly employed as a constant but unnoticed narrator throughout the action preceding her birth, also has more than one level. Flora Spencer-Longhurst’s chipper 1920s precociousness stands out against those whose lives she’s observing but, when love, indeed lust, begins to twist her own life, there’s a steeliness and obsession to contend with.
Soames provides the greatest test for an actor. His appalling rape of Irene and its selfishly businesslike justification should make him purely hateful. In Joseph Millson’s hands he certainly exudes the emotionally barren, disconnection of the Victorian Englishman but retains a sense that he’d like to see a little of the life he robustly shuts out. Adding some remorse and a softening through age this is a terrific performance, easily among the best seen at this theatre for a long while.
The tonal changes between the two halves of the play are beautifully handled. In a clear nod to the nascent concept of feminism the constricts of Irene’s time are swept aside by the confidence and buoyancy of Fleur’s. Josh Roche’s is a production with points to make about both individuals and the world in which they live.
Over the course of its full five hours there are too many highlights to list – heartbreaking sadness, poignant loss, love and anger, and episodes of sparkling comedy. There are no weak links and nothing that one might wish to be tightened.
Theatre as good as this only comes about when all the elements, perfect in themselves, come together harmoniously. It’s a massive production but one which cannot be recommended too much.
