THE REAL THING, SALISBURY PLAYHOUSE

DOES the real thing exist? Love, that is.

Tom Stoppard’s erudite and multi-layered 1982 play about love, the real thing of the title, is, naturally enough being Stoppard, not as straight-forward as it seems.

The play centres on clever, emotionally repressed playwright Henry, and his relationship with first wife Charlotte and second wife, Annie, who are both actors. Richard Lintern is perfectly cast as Henry, seamlessly coping with Stoppard’s philosophical, esoteric speeches on writing, relationships and fidelity – no mean feat. He is also very funny, bringing out the witticisms in Stoppard’s writing about a man who can write about cricket bats but cannot show his true feelings.

Henry’s play, A House of Cards, focuses on a character’s response to discovering his wife’s infidelity, the first scene of which forms the opening scene of The Real Thing with Sarah Winman and David Birrell utterly convincing in these roles. How to transpose fiction into reality is achieved with consummate ease in Toby Frow’s excellent production, courtesy of a shaken snow-globe, but I won’t give anything away except to say that Ben Stones’ brilliant set is as multi-layered as the relationships.

Madeline Worrall is wonderfully sexy as second wife, Annie, who has ditched her rather awkward husband Max (David Birrell), not so confident in real-life as his fictional character is in A House of Cards, for the more dashing Henry. Lintern and Worrall’s body language is believable and the pair are particularly amusing in their clash over musical styles as Henry agonises over his selection for Desert Island Discs.

As the set is peeled back to reveal a first-class railway carriage (a quite breathtaking scene), Billy appears on the scene as the young actor with designs on Annie and Stephen Hagan injects the right amount of passion in his role.

If this all sounds exhausting, it isn’t; it is an emotional rollercoaster with a cliffhanger ending.

  • The Real Thing runs until Saturday, March 21.

- Anne Morris