The Open House, The Print Room review - razor wit, theatrical brio

A tyrannical family reunion and a dramatic volte-face in Will Eno's ingenious new drama

share this article

Patriarchal pain: from left, Greg Hicks, Crispin Letts, Lindsey Campbell, Ralph Davis
Images by Simon Annand

The American family has seldom looked more desperate. Will Eno’s The Open House depicts a gathering of such dismal awfulness that it surely sets precedents for this staple element of American drama. Yet for viewers who relish humour in its most pitch-black form, and enjoy a dramatic turn-around that is as unpredictable as it is accomplished, the writer’s 2014 play (which won him the playwriting Obie award that year) is deliciously scalding.

Eno introduces his five characters, assembled for the parents’ wedding anniversary, not by name but by their role in the family, suggesting something archetypal. It’s a world, we assume, that was always dominated by Father (Greg Hicks), even before a stroke confined him to a wheelchair. Teresa Banham’s Mother (pictured below) has so long ago developed a detached resignation to her position that even the sadness has gone.

The take-over is virtually unnoticeable until its totality suddenly dawns on you

Their daughter (Lindsey Campbell) and son (Ralph Davis) have returned for this unlovely gathering, each with new developments in their own lives and to some degree still, perhaps, holding out hope that one day this family dynamic might change. A second son is referred to (even named), his absence suggesting that, for one of them at least, illusions on that front died long ago. Crispin Letts hangs in there too as the Uncle, completing the company with a benignity not deserved by his relations. The thing most urgently missing on this day, however, is the family dog (do not be alarmed, dog-lovers!).

Eno has earned a reputation as a writer you either love or loathe, and the first half of The Open House – the production runs at an uninterrupted 80 minutes – presents nay-sayers with grounds for chagrin: the unrelenting paternal barbs, the miserabilist view of life inherent in them. There’s a degree of separation from life’s reality, too: this family lives in the now, and we learn little of its connection to the world, to its past. How did it comes to this – or was it just the American way?

The dramatic absurdity is so finely tuned – no wonder Beckett is the most frequent point of comparison for Eno – the writing so razor sharp, the pauses as well as the phrases – Pinter there, too – so perfectly timed that pleasure is inevitable. There is relish both of the absurd and of absurdity as humour, and delight in language. At one point Eno throws in the word “opalescent” (new to me) and its definition, small points of shifting colour against a dark background, somehow catches the essence of his world here.

Teresa Banham in The Open HouseBut, although the playwright has begun to orchestrate a timeline for this meeting, with departures from and expected arrivals on its scene, at a certain point it’s hard to avoid the feeling that the potential for dramatic development is limited. At which point he engineers a coup de théâtre that is as unexpected as it is skilful (there’s an almost metaphysical quality here: we derive emotional pleasure through the engagement of intellect). Sufficient to say that the denizens of this single-room set – Tom Piper’s design has a crystalline simplicity, leaving us to concentrate on the sometimes almost still forms of the actors – change almost seamlessly. The take-over is virtually unnoticeable, until its totality suddenly dawns on you.

It's a breath of fresh air for the cast, until then rather in the shadow of Greg Hicks’s more than Eeyorely curmudgeon patriarch, whose control of every nuance of language, every new facial expression nevertheless has us wincing unfailingly. The wry commentary on American life continues, the targets simply changed. Talking Heads’ "Once in a Lifetime” comes to mind: Same as it ever was, same as it ever was...

There’s a surgical precision to Michael Boyd’s production, transferring (like the Print Room’s recent Trouble in Mind) from Theatre Royal Bath with that accrued poise of playing that shows an ensemble totally at ease. The Coronet’s large stage is a joy in itself these days too, such a residual sense of theatre evident in its gloriously tatty walls. Which makes this Open House an invitation too good to miss.

The dramatic absurdity is so finely tuned, the writing so razor sharp, the pauses so perfectly timed that pleasure is inevitable

rating

4

share this article

Support the future of arts journalism

Subscribe to theartsdesk.com

Thanks so much for choosing genuinely independent arts journalism theartsdesk’s mission has never been more important – in an age of relentless algorithmic recommendation, sponsored content and unreliable AI, the expertise and discernment of individual critics deeply embedded in their specialist areas is absolutely vital.

If you want more of that in your life, why not subscribe now?

If you do this before the 31st August, you’ll be able to keep at this “founders rate” for life: your subs will never increase! You can choose to subscribe annually for just £40 simply click here
or monthly for £5 per month simply click here.

Not ready to subscribe?

If you want to support with a little extra or aren’t ready to subscribe just yet, there’s also the option to give direct to our crowdfunder to support our imminent redesign and exciting expansion with new features and collaborations Simply contribute here: https://gofund.me/c3f6033d.

However you choose to be involved, you can proudly say that you are picking the right side in the battle for truth and humanity in the modern information landscape. And we will be very glad to have you on board!

more theatre

Lots of innovative ideas, but we need to hear the line readings clearly
Eurovision star Sam Ryder is made for the title role, while Drew McOnie’s choreography makes us feel the delirium
Chloë Moss’s new drama is a nerve-fraying example of telephonic tension
Carrie Cracknell’s splendid revival of Stoppard’s masterwork transfers with its magic intact
Transatlantic tensions are diffused through alcohol, sex, and the etiquette of hot dogs
New play about domestic abuse adopts a radical form that works - up to a point
Adrian Lester’s spiky, swaggering hero is the apex predator in this linguistic ecosystem
American playwright Rajiv Joseph’s account of Serbian political assassins really rocks
Michael Longhurst's intelligent directing wrings fresh laughs from a familiar setup
Small-scale film becomes major emotional experience as a stage musical
Martin Crimp’s sparkling latest revisits Molière and gives the play a gender twist