Private Lives (1931)

As a Noel Coward fan I have wanted to see this film for quite a while. It is an MGM production of 1931, the year after the play took both the West End and Broadway by storm with Coward himself and Gertrude Lawrence as the leads (thus creating theatrical legend). But I was also quite apprehensive. "Private Lives" is a delightful play (you can read my comments on a recent production here) but is incredibly stage bound - there are only two sets, there's hardly any action after the first act and it lives or dies on the charisma of its leads and their ability to carry the witty dialogue. So, the casting of Norma Shearer worried me slightly. Full of mannerisms from the silent era and a sense of self importance, she's usually not my cup of tea.

Surprisingly, I was worried needlessly. She is a delightful Amanda, full of life, energy, sexiness, all the requirements to make her come truly alive. Only once did I see one of her exaggerated expressions, and most of time her face revealed the truth of her character's feeling under the witty façade - the best example are the early scenes with Victor, building up to the famous balcony scene. Or a brilliant moment where she was trying not to laugh at Sybil and Victor arguing. True, the adaptation is fairly close to Coward's text which probably didn't do any harm - they opened the action and replaced a flat in Paris for a chalet in Switzerland, but I recognised most of the dialogue. But credit where credit is due and Norma has managed to impress me for the second time - I am now quite curious to see her in another pre-code "Strangers May Kiss", but who knows when that may be.

As for the rest of the cast, well, no one will ever remember the actors who play Sybil and Victor, which are among the most ungrateful parts I know of. Robert Montgomery as Elyot is also very good, but not comparable to Norma. In fact it is very clear that this was HER vehicle and he was there to support HER. But I'm ok with it - although I am not sure if he was.

Private Lives (Hampstead Theatre revival)

In 1962, the Hampstead Theatre revived Noël Coward's "Private Lives". At the time, this was a rather interesting choice for the theatre, since Coward was seen as old-fashioned and dated. It was a hit, it transferred to the West End and began what the playwright himself dubbed "Dad's Renaissance" - a revaluation of his work, which included the 1964 revival of "Hayfever" at the National and his last stage appearance in 1965 in "Suite in Three Keys". As part of their 50th anniversary this year, the Hampstead theatre decided to produce it again. Tonight was the first preview and I went with a friend.

The play itself tells the events that follow the accidental meeting of a divorced couple, Amanda and Elyot, on the first night of their honeymoons with new spouses. The moment they see each other the old flame is back on and they escape leaving Amanda's new husband and Elyot's new wife somewhat bewildered. I love this play. It was the first of his I ever read, and I think Act I alone is one of the funniest things ever written, its symmetry reminding me of Wilde's Earnest. And this production doesn't disappoint. Actually the opposite. It surprised me. The director striped it of all the trappings of the cocktail parties and the stylisation of the art deco, placed a bed in the middle of Amanda's studio in Paris and made it something fresh and openly sexy that goes so well with the words, showing how truly modern they are.

The play is on until the end of February and I truly hope it goes to the West End.

Boom (1968)

While I often give up on a film if I'm watching it on DVD, I've only did it once at the cinema. Not that I haven't been tempted a few times. The last one was with "Boom", an adaptation of Tennessee Williams' play "The Milk Train Doesn't Stop Here Anymore" with Elizabeth Taylor, Richard Burton and Noël Coward.

It's the story of a dying actress living in an island off the Italian coast who gets visit by a poet, who has the reputation to be the Angel of Death. It is actually even worst than it sounds. And here is the main problem. The play twice flopped on Broadway in the early sixties and was the beginning of the end for the playwright. As a film, it goes nowhere, is full of idiotic cuts and irritating camera angles, and at best has a reputation as a camp classic - I hadn't heard this, but I inferred from the reaction of some of the audience and from some internet reading afterwards. I like camp, but not even as such it managed to interest me.

It is also miscast. Elizabeth Taylor's definition of acting is to shout as much as she can and is too healthy and too young for the part. Also there are a few shots who must be a private joke at the expense of Cleopatra. Richard Burton was way too old and can not really convince as a man that can be considered for a toy boy - still at least he acted. Noël Coward was the reason why I paid for the ticket - and it was interesting to see him play a bitchy old queen (not sure if he was really acting). It was nice to see him in colour and see how blue his eyes were - but these are two hours of my life I shall never recover.

The Vortex and some other 1177 minutes of Noel Coward

As a birthday present, I treated myself to Peter Hall's production of Noël Coward's "The Vortex". First performed in 1924 it shocked at the time with references to toy boys and drugs. I read the play many moons ago and wasn't much impressed, but I never refuse an opportunity to see Coward, especially in the hands of a good director. And much to my surprised I found layers that I did not expect. The hint from the text that Nicky is mixed with drugs because he can't face his homosexuality was painfully evident in Dan Stevens' face. He gave a performance of someone who feels he's starting to waste his life but can't do anything to prevent it. But I think that the biggest revelation was the suggestion that Phoebe Nicholls character's friendship and loyalty to Florence may be hidding something else.

Dan Stevens was a pleasant surprise (saw him in "Hayfever" last year and wasn't very convinced). The same goes for Felicity Kendall (I spent most of "Amy's View" thinking what Judi Dench's performance might have been and her "Fallen Angels" did not impress a few years ago). Peter Hall lead the play and its cast very well, avoiding that any of them fall into the usually trappings of playing Coward. No winks to the audience, no excessive mannerisms. Just a play which can still shock.

Still on the subject of Coward, a recent voucher was translated into the 1177 minutes long (over 19h!), 7 DVD collection of his plays and short stories as done by the BBC. I still have many many hours to go but could not resist "Private Lives" with Penelope Keith. Every inch what I imagined and more, it was an hour and half of near-perfection.