Well – firstly I must warn you that this has nothing to do with the notorious 1933 film of the same name that rocketted Hedy Lamarr to stardom. This is about a very different form of Ecstasy. Not quite as funny, or as cringeingly embarrassing, as “Abigail’s Party” , this is a welcome revival of another Mike Leigh piece from the same era. The play is basically a four-hander, the characters, somewhat financially and emotionally impoverished, trying to make the best of their lives. Jean (Sian Brooke) lives in the bed-sit, in a then, obviously, less gentrified Kilburn, in which the action is set. She has a married lover whose love-making doesn’t appear to give her much pleasure – in fact nothing seems to rouse her to much reaction, even when her lover’s wife, a barn-storming cameo by Claire-louise Cordwell, bursts in and accuses her of trying to steal Roy, the lover/husband. Then there is her best friend, Dawn, who tries to make the best of everything – shop-lifting glamorous clothes so she can look good for her bibulous Irish husband, Mick, who spends more time at the pub than he does at home. At the pub on the evening of the second act, Mick bumps into an old friend of them all, Len, and he and Dawn bring Len round to Jean’s, where they all get progressively drunker. The characters are well-drawn and, though hovering on the edge of it, never descend into stereotypical behaviour. The trouble is that,  with Coronation Street and Eastenders now on television practically daily, none of this behaviour is particularly revelatory and the action (or lack of it) becomes just a teensy bit tedious. This being said, it is wonderfully performed by an exemplary cast and directed by Mike Leigh himself, and is well worth seeing for these reasons alone.

England is not my home.  I come from  a place far away and have only lived here full-time for about 9 years.  London is a place that feels familiar though.  There’s an energy.  There’s a feeling.  There’s an outward point of view that makes the expense, the brusqueness, the pressure worthwhile.

But, the London I know is a relatively recent invention.  Mike Leigh gave me a glimpse into London’s past with his thoughtful, ‘Ecstasy’ currently on at the Duchess Theatre. There they were a bunch of working class English folks from Kilburn.  Actually, make that three English and one Irishman.  Through them, ‘Ecstasy’ shows us realities of marriage of a sort – infidelity and drunkennes with a blind eye.  The play forces us to finesse our notions of the proletariat – the bookworm, the could-be professional singer.  Unsparingly examining the cultural limitations of those who have been put upon as they put upon the Pakis and the blacks, ‘Ecstasy’ in subtle, slow-moving revelation reminded me that the glitz of my London has a grimy, raw, exploited foundation.

Although the cast was a generally a triumph, Sinead Matthews gave the outstanding performance of the evening with her unabashedly common Dawn.  Mother, wife, shoplifter – Dawn shows the others how to have it all with very little.  Yes, she’s happily married with children, but her husband drinks too much and is never at home.  Dawn is often well turned out – if shocking pink blouses so tight that they could choke qualify. Dawn’s life isn’t anything we’d wish for.  But, she’s happy and somehow we’re happy for her.

That’s the beauty of the play.  The characters are far from perfect.  They’re far from attractive.  In some ways, they seemed trapped under a glass cover.  They’re smothered but animated as they struggle to breathe in life.

Damaged. Certainly. Somehow though, they touch us. And in 21st century London, that’s not easy to do.

Thanks Mike Leigh, writer and director.

Rattigan’s last play is fascinating – fresh and witty, it positively bowls along in the new production under Thea Sharrock’s direction at the Old Vic. Originally conceived as a play for the wireless and then expanded for the stage, it works seamlessly and has no longeurs. Based on a true court case of the 1930s that “reeked of sex”, as one contemporary wrote, the mixture of fact and fiction gives it true emotional depth – the reflections and change of heart of the fictional character, Edith Davenport, forming the real focus of the play. It is shot through with perceptive riffs on contemporary morality and double standards and the cast, universally out-standing, are pitch-perfect in their playing of it. Anne-Marie Duff is truly moving in the difficult role of Alma Rattenbury, accused of being an accessory in the bludgeoning of her older husband to death by her teenage lover. Aided by Rattigan’s subtle script she manages to convey a woman whose easy charm and enjoyment of life made her, despite her rather lax observance of contemporary mores, extremely attractive at many different levels to most of the people she came in contact with, though not the general public at large, who were horrified (perhaps tinged with not a little envy) by her story. Niamh Cusack is also wonderful as the conflicted Mrs. Davenport, whose own marriage is unravelling and whose son, Tony, sensitively played by Freddie Fox, is turning from a boy into a man. The legal team have by far the wittiest lines in the play and show the cynicism of the profession and also how important it is to have good council when your life is at stake – Nicholas Jones stands out as the most cynical.

All in all, it’s a spanking good evening at the theatre and a timely revival in Rattigan’s centenary year.

Jones: Well we were going to see Ecstasy - we had the tickets, we’d eaten our pre-theatre supper and when we got to the theatre we were told the performance had been cancelled. What happened to understudies and “The show must go on” I asked myself. Ecstasy (as it so often seems to be) has been re-scheduled but, as we were already in the West End, we were allowed to go to see In a Forest Dark and Deep, Neil LaBute’s latest offering, which obviously isn’t playing to packed houses. I knew nothing about the play before walking into the theatre so had no expectations at all, which was, perhaps, lucky. I found it disappointing. A brother and sister meet to pack up a lakeside cabin rented by the sister and all sorts of sibling stuff comes out, but I found it hard to care as I didn’t feel much sympathy, or empathy, for either of the protagonists. Matthew Fox performed well on stage  in what must be his first leading theatre role after his success in television’s “Lost”. There were some funny lines but it was neither funny enough nor, indeed, dark enough to ever get truly intriguing. Perhaps I shouldn’t carp – it was free after all…

Smith:  Jonesey, Jonesey… a bit harsh don’t you think?  We were disappointed about not being able to see Ecstasy.  This consolation prize didn’t really have a chance did it?  For me, the play sufferred because of direction that wasn’t quite tight enough.  Tepid is the word that comes to mind.  This brother and sister had a past…a turbulent one and we were only allowed to stay on its periphery in both its literal history and its emotional detail.  Olivia Williams was a real disappointment.  I had heard good things about her although I hadn’t seen much of her work previously.  She seemed so focused on getting her box-standard aping of an American accent right that she forgot that she was in a relationship on stage.  Matthew Fox – pretty, pretty boy – was an upside surprise on the other hand.   I thought his portrayal of this backwoods redneck was pretty much on target.  Unfortunately, Williams gave him precious little to push off of.

I fear the theatre would have been rather empty had others, like us, not come over from the canceled Ecstasy performance.  Perhaps a harsh indictment?  Perhaps a sign of the pickiness of recession-fearing theatre-goers these days.

Pretty, pretty boy.  Come on.  Give it a go…