Ensemble Theatre, May 6
8/10
Given the depravity, cruelty, hatefulness, bullying, vulgarity and duplicity that fill our news cycle, how refreshing it is to encounter an affirmation of humanity’s better side. It turns out we’re not inherently such an appalling species: we just seem to default to behaving that way.
Helene Hanff’s 1970 epistolary memoir, from which James Roose-Evans adapted this play, is a love affair of sorts, but, more than a veiled flirtation between two people who never meet, it’s a shared love of books and the words within them – a passion that currently recedes each day.
Mark Kilmurry’s production is so warm and cosy you could almost toast marshmallows on it, were you seated in the front row. Blazey Best plays Helene, the feisty, plain-speaking New York writer, who discovers that buying the antiquarian books she craves is much easier and cheaper from Marks and Co of London than from her own city’s establishments.
The play exists exclusively in letters, nearly all of which Helene exchanges with Marks and Co’s Frank Doel, a polite, gentle soul with profound knowledge of his trade. Erik Thomson plays Frank, and the natural benignity of his face speaks volumes about the character, who tolerates Helene’s teasing with eternal good humour; who actually finds it rather gratifying not to be taken too seriously, given the shortages, greyness and stuffiness of post-World War II England.
Their correspondence spans 20 years, and as he slides from signing off his letters with “yours faithfully” to “love”, there’s the slightest frisson that Frank, married with two children, quietly longs for Helene to visit, being enchanted by the freedom with which this autodidact attacks life, itself – as well as John Donne, Leigh Hunt and the rest. A vague, wispy sadness therefore clouds the play, but it’s not the main event.
Best is brash, loud and amusing. If she occasionally comes close to overcooking Helene, it’s crucial that the contrast between the two cultures be as stark as possible, while the two individuals are united by books. Although we never learn of Frank’s tastes, he’s across any author Helen requests, however arcane, and, besides, he’d never dream of showing off his knowledge. Helene’s banter about the classicists, meanwhile, oozes enthusiasm and wide-eyed curiosity.
It’s difficult to imagine a better Frank than Thomson, who understates his compassion, stoicism and good humour, as well as gratitude for Helene’s many kindnesses, which are shared with his bookshop colleagues, played by Katie Fitchett, Brian Meegan and Angela Mahlatjie (the latter with particular panache).
Nick Fry’s set embeds Helene’s backstairs apartment within the old shop’s high-rise shelves of leather-bound books, and his costumes could almost speak the lines without an actor inhabiting them.
This is art of such infinitely gentle charm, muted drama and mellow comedy as now might seem slight or unfashionable, yet it’s the perfect antidote to the world around us.
Until June 13.
https://www.ensemble.com.au/shows/84-charing-cross-road/