Gillian Anderson is magnetic in Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?
Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? | ★★★★☆ | @sohoplace
Edward Albee’s Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? is one of those plays that only seems to come around every decade or so – and when it does you wonder where it’s been all this time. It’s lost none of its caustic charm over the six decades since it was first performed, its depiction of married life as bleak and devastating as ever.
Last time this play was in the West End, the wonderful Imelda Staunton played Martha. This time it’s a very different beast: Gillian Anderson puts in a lithe, exaggeratedly sexual performance as the daughter of a prestigious college president, with renowned character actor Billy Crudup playing her professor husband George.
It opens with George and Martha bickering after a night out. They’re both good and drunk and thirsty for more. Fortunately, Martha has invited company: an ambitious young lecturer and his wife.
The initial thrill of seeing Anderson and Crudup is soon eroded by the creeping sense of dread brought on by the psychic damage each seems intent on inflicting upon the other. Like Hedda Gabler or Revolutionary Road, this is one of those texts to avoid should you be experiencing relationship troubles. Albee dissects his characters with the precision of a surgeon, albeit one with a sadistic streak. Martha is a belligerent drunk, revelling in belittling her husband and his floundering career. George in turn belittles the prickly upstart Nick, for whom he makes no attempt to mask his contempt. Nobody is enjoying this rotten night in but at least the alcohol flows as freely as the bile.
Gillian Anderson is superb
Anderson is predictably superb as Martha, a magnetic presence despite the sharpness of her tongue. But it’s Crudup’s performance you’ll be thinking of on the journey home. Quieter and more reserved than his wife, there’s a simmering menace to his George. While Martha is quick to throw insults, George quietly dismantles the defences of his guests before neatly skewering them one after another.
The staging is fantastically chic, taking full advantage of Soho Place’s in-the-round configuration. The audience is positioned around a circular 1960s mid-century modern living room; there’s something gladiatorial about the set-up, the crowd sitting on the front row for this monumental scrap. You may not get splattered by literal blood from this contest but you might catch a stray gin if you’re not careful.
Just don’t expect an early knock-out: this is a long, long night’s journey into the day. It’s well over three hours, including two intervals, although for the second you’re not allowed to leave your seat (which is all the more torturous for those of us with full bladders). When the end comes, it’s with a sense of relief – both that the fighting is finally over and that you can quickly escape to the bathroom.
• Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf starring Gillian Anderson is on now at @sohoplace