Auckland Theatre Company gives the translator of this gentle comedy - Tom Stoppard - as much billing as its French playwright Gerald Sibleyras, but those expecting sparkling Stoppardian wit and show-off intellectual depth will be disappointed. On the other hand, those wanting an easy evening of comfortable, traditional theatre should be well pleased.
It's 1959, and we're in the company of three old gaffers in a home for World War I veterans. The play is an examination of how they use their friendship and fantasies to meet their most difficult challenge: finding a reason to get out of bed every morning (the friends' military histories are more of a set-up than a subject). Far from maudlin, the play dodges any poignancy about this situation with a quick laugh. There are some nice observations: the pals work themselves up to have an occasional tiff to alleviate their boredom, and they brag about mildly ribald (un)gallantries. Their monotonous daily rhythm is played out between each scene: the men shuffle off, the lights dim, someone sings in French, the lights go back up, the men shuffle back on, etc.
Directed by Alison Quigan, the actors are all reprising roles from a Circa theatre season of Heroes seven years ago, and are very good (on opening night they had the Herculean task of making us forget ATC artistic director Colin McColl's embarrassing introduction, read out while the actors milled about onstage).
George Henare invites empathy as the sanest veteran, Henri (although his accent does not support the insinuation that the character is "common"); Ray Henwood has a commanding presence as the grumpier Gustave, while Ken Blackburn makes Philippe, who regularly falls unconscious, endearing. "Try not to pass out in the middle of a sentence, it's very annoying," Gustave says.
John Parker's realist set is covered with autumn leaves, cliched as a symbol of old age but confused, as the action starts in August in France.
