THEATRE REVIEW: Great Expectations - The Royal Exchange Theatre, Manchester.

This adaptation of the well-loved Dickens classic is set in Bengal at the height of the British Raj as the nationalists are rallying against partition. This is not Tanika Gupta’s first adaptation for the Royal Exchange, and it is highly unlikely it will be her last. She blends the narrative of the original book into the history and culture of colonial Bengal with skill, nuance, and humour. It is a gem of an idea – giving real historic purchase to the storyline by adding further depth to the British obsession with class and superiority depicted in the original book. What it also gives, is the opportunity to transport us half-way across the world, and back in time over a century, and the result is a gloriously stunning feast for the eyes and the ears.

The design standards of this production are breath-taking. A circular, undulating path with a concentric circular bench is framed by an imposing pair of age-worn wrought iron gates at one end and a rectangular filigree arch at the other. The stage was surrounded by a stream of water, made from a vinyl circle and creative lighting, and it was softened with grass, gravel, an almost continual stream of low-smoke, and the benign presence of Lakshmi. Hovering above (and lowered when needed) was Miss Havisham’s spectacular, cobwebbed chandelier, complete with stopped clocks. The lighting was utterly gorgeous – reproducing a tropical quality and, at one point, a sunset glow with real authenticity. The costumes were equally beautiful – detailed and sumptuous through to simple and homespun according to status – Miss Havisham’s gown was almost iridescent in its faded glory. The soundscape too was refined and delightful – using purpose-composed music, sprinkled with effects. This was a stage set that was for inhabiting - no gimmicks or moving parts; no whistles and bells - a sumptuous gift for the actors and audience alike.

And so, with incense curling from the stage floor, it began. Esh Alladi sprang onto stage as the child, Pipli, full of curiosity, hope, and naivety. Alladi gave a flawless performance, capturing the hearts of all except the girl he loved. Catherine Russell’s Miss Havisham was his antithesis – jaded, manipulative and isolated from the world. Her self-dosing from a pocket-sized laudanum was a brilliant touch and Russell commanded the stage, making Havisham’s years of anguish a raw and fresh pain. Jagu, the gentle, simple brother-in-law played by Asif Khan was a slice of kindness and calm – his unconditional love for Pipli creating some poignant moments amongst the chaos of such a complex story. The pragmatic, practical sister, Krishna was played by Shanaya Rafaat with crisp, unemotional efficiency – a woman most wouldn’t cross! This was a consummate performance from everyone involved. Particularly impressive were the stage combat sequences, blood was flying, and many gasps were heard – notably from those nearest the action, always a sign of the most realistic of injuries. There was consideration in every detail – the convicts’ hobbled walk and the raw sores around their ankles being just one example. The use of accents was a brilliant touch, changing accents to distinguish between different languages is not a new concept – but this was subtly done to great effect, and with pinpoint accuracy as in some scenes Alladi flit between the two accents at an impressive rate.

Act One took us to the point where Pipli’s mysterious benefactor contrives to move him into the city to educate him in readiness for his bequest. It was a melancholic start (Dickens is rarely cheery!) and despite its beauty and the strong performance across the ensemble, the Act felt a bit of a drag – there were perhaps a few too many trips around the circular path and just a shade too long in each transition. Act 2 however, gave us a bit more bounce. As Pipli developed his independence and some spirit, the performance moved more nimbly with even a few good laughs – the return of Andrew French’s Malik and Giles Cooper’s Herbert Pocket surely had something to do with that. Both actors were concise and characterful, each providing both drama and comedy. Alladi’s arrival in Kolkata, portrayed with nothing more than a bag and his own physical representation of the hazards of the city, was a superb way to draw the audience back in, and the pivotal moment of the fire was so cleverly handled as to cause a moment of genuine concern for the safety of the cast.

Having never read Great Expectations (I know – but Dickens was paid by the word, they’re a tough haul!), it was quite a puzzle to keep up with the unseen backstory that was revealed through Act 2 and seemed critical to understanding the resolution of the performance. Elements of this were enjoyable – the scene where a lawyer admits to nothing (but tells all) raised a few chuckles – but some were rushed, leaving me barely holding on to the storyline by the end. Safe to say, I predicted at the interval that Pipli was not going to get his happy ever after, and was moved to shed a tear when Alladi bared Pipli’s soul, revealing his depth of feeling for Estella.

This epic retelling, transported in place and time was the most beautiful thing I’ve seen on a stage in a while – it had the feel of one of those luscious BBC Christmas adaptations we all hark back to. Not only is it stunning, the historic and geographic setting holds its own with an authenticity that makes one feel it was an obvious choice. A must-see of the season!

Reviewer - Justine Sutcliffe
on - 13.9.23