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Submitted by Doris
Good at the Donmar Warehouse
As the former literature lecturer John Halder prepares to leave Anne, his lover, for a week's work in Upper Silesia, she helps him into his greatcoat, saying, "Whatever happens...round us...However we get pushed...I know we're good people." Their belief that their love will transcend the difficulties of life around them seems noble. Except that beneath the coat Halder is wearing a Nazi uniform and he's about to go to Auschwitz to over-see the carrying out of the Final Solution.
C.P. Taylor's 1981 daring dramatization of the dangers of the liberal position asks one of the crucial questions of the 20th century: How did ordinary human beings become implicated in the Nazi nightmare? Taylor's dramatic masterstroke was his eschewal of didacticism. He never uses a moral position to disguise flimsy theatre. Instead, he builds a richly detailed, vividly dramatic portrait of an ordinary "good" man in 1930s Germany who sincerely wants the best for those he loves: his dementia-ridden mother, his wife, his Jewish best friend, and, of course, himself.
The play's replacement of straightforward chronology with emotional logic gives the themes unusual theatrical richness but it also means that it is exceedingly difficult to pull off. Yet Michael Grandage's compelling and startlingly intelligent production -- the finest direction at the Donmar in years -- is an outstanding success. Everything pivots around Charles Dance's sensitive and surprisingly witty Halder. The finale -- something of a coup de theatre in Grandage's hands -- reveals Halder as having undergone an emotional breakdown, which makes complete dramatic sense due largely to Dance's ability to plot his journey with superbly relaxed aplomb.
He's helped by a superb supporting cast, notably Jessica Turner as his wife, who movingly etches an indelible portrait of sliding bewilderment. Eerie shafts of light cut through the darkness of Christopher Oram's beautifully austere set, which manages to suggest Germanic immensity within the usually cramped Donmar space.
One could argue that Taylor's play lacks the multiple resonances of true art -- ultimately, there is only one interpretation -- but this masterly production sweeps such considerations aside. A genuinely rare dramatic conviction courses through this unmissable evening.
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