Gareth's Culture and Travel Blog

This isn’t the first time I’ve been to a page-to-stage adaptation with someone who’s read the book and I haven’t, and not the first time we’ve both been satisfied with the outcome, which seems to me to be a hard thing to pull off. Hanya Yanagohata’s novel is by all accounts a mighty, dense tome, with a very loyal following. The stage adaptation has a 3 hour 20 min playing time, but it doesn’t feel like it.

Based on the pre-publicity I was expecting a story of four close friends, but it appears those of three of them have been moved more to the background in the interests of economy so that the play can focus on the story of Jude St. Francis, with two other older friends as much in the foreground, and the narration left to his social worker rather than shared amongst the friends.

Jude is a successful lawyer, a public prosecutor. He shares an apartment in SoHo New York City with actor Willem, artist JB and architect Malcolm. They have the sort of bond only university friends have. The others know little or nothing of Jude’s tragic background, which unfolds mostly in flashbacks. Abuse at a catholic school and in care follows him into adult life as a prostitute and even in work with rape, imprisonment and torture. The one beacon of hope is the benevolence of teacher Harold, with tragedy in his past, who eventually adopts him as an adult.

The most harrowing aspects involve self-harm, which stays with him as a permanent reminder of his past, and you know this will never go away. The long-term affects of abuse have never been brought home to me or impacted me like they do here. I have never looked away from the stage as much as I did here. It’s a tough watch, but it’s a story that should be told.

It’s almost thirteen years since I saw James Norton’s London professional debut in Laura Wade’s Posh at the Royal Court. A few more stage appearances followed, but this is on another level altogether. It’s a real tour de force of a quality that you rarely have the privilege of witnessing. Hugely impressive. The supporting cast is outstanding, with a special mention for Eliot Cowan who plays all three of Jude’s tormentors. The spontaneous standing ovation was certainly earned here.

Though it has a lot of director Ivo van Hove’s trademarks, and I’ve seen twelve other pieces by him, his staging here is less stylised and more realistic, in keeping with the material. It’s a small playing area, with a few rows of audience behind, onstage, but a continual projection of movement through the streets of NYC on one side opens it up.

Given its themes, you can’t use words such as ‘like’ or ‘love’, but it’s an extraordinarily dramatic presentation of important and seemingly timeless issues that we forget at our peril, one that seems to work as well for those who know its source as those new to it. If it takes a few star names to sell out a play like this in the West End, then so be it; theatre must continue to reflect the realities of society, good and bad, if it is to remain relevant.