Theatre review: The Visit, or,The Old Lady Comes To Call

After Angels in America was a transatlantic success for the National Theatre twice over, it's no surprise if they're keen to bring Tony Kushner back to their stages; the Olivier this time, and instead of an original story it's for an adaptation of Friedrich Dürrenmatt's obscure 1956 play The Visit, or, The Old Lady Comes To Call; but one thing that definitely hasn't changed is Kushner's determination that, once he's got the audience through the doors, he's going to keep them there as long as humanly possible. And while it doesn't fly quite as far into the realms of magic realism as his most famous work, this play - essentially an extended fable on debt of many different kinds - is full of oddities. It takes place over a few days in 1955 in the town of Slurry, New York State, once a manufacturing hub but now collapsing, its various businesses sold up to unseen buyers and liquidated years ago, and now reduced to selling the church bells for scrap metal.

But decades earlier one Slurry native not only escaped but thrived, and following a smart marriage (and a handful of unwise ones after her first husband died,) Claire Zachanassian (Lesley Manville) is due to return for the first time ever, now as the world's richest woman.

She's acquired a reputation for generosity to struggling towns, and the locals are hoping her birthplace will fare particularly well from her, so the welcome party includes the man they hope holds her happiest memories of Slurry: Her high school boyfriend Alfred Ill (Hugo Weaving.) He is indeed the key to getting her money but not in the way they think: Ill, as everyone calls him, has been keeping a dark secret about the way he treated Claire before she fled the town. Claire is willing to pay a billion dollars, half to clear the town's debts and the rest to be split equally among the residents - but only in exchange for someone killing Ill.

Broken up by two intervals in Jeremy Herrin's production The Visit, or, Tony Kushner Still Hasn't Found The Backspace Key, feels like it has a distinct focus in each act - it's pretty representative of Kushner's waffling style that Claire doesn't appear until 25 minutes into the first, which until then has been spent entirely on discussing her, and that the Faustian pact she offers the town isn't revealed until the end of it. In some ways the middle section is the most interesting as, the mayor (Nicholas Woodeson) having officially turned down Claire's offer, it seems that her real punishment for Ill might be his own paranoia: In the small shop he runs everyone starts asking for their goods to be put on account, and the whole impoverished town starts buying expensive new goods as if in expectation of a windfall they know is definitely coming - even Ill's own son (Stuart Nunn) buys a car, and the local priest (Joseph Mydell) advises him to get out of town as he can't trust even himself not to hurt him if the temptation stays there. On the downside this act has the least of the titular character, and Manville's mix of calculating fury and surreal comedy is the undoubted highlight of the show.

This distinct identity to each of the three acts is one of the things that helps the play hold the attention despite the fact that it's patently overwritten; full of classical allusions, witticisms and musings on unbridled capitalism, it's all good stuff but there's just so much of it the story struggles to pick up the pace of the thriller it so clearly wants to be. The other thing keeping things going is the increasing element of the downright weird: Claire being gradually revealed to be almost entirely made of prosthetics, carried everywhere on a sedan chair because one leg is made of silver and the other of china; her retinue made up of people who she feels have wronged her, who she's used her money to essentially enslave and torture; in her couple of days in town she goes through two trophy husbands (both played by Joshua Lacey) and her wealth means she can openly ask the Chief of Police (Jason Barnett) if he can be bought, which she promptly does; never mind the fact that he's then replaced in the job by his teenage son (Michael Elcock.) She's also so toxic that a brief encounter with her turns the no-nonsense headmistress (Sara Kestelman) to drink.

In other words The Visit has had the kitchen sink thrown at it, and not just by Kushner - Herrin's production has such a large cast I thought the stage might buckle under the curtain call, and Vicki Mortimer's set features a metal balcony from which Claire can observe her handiwork as the town turns on itself, and forests rising out of the depths (I could hear the Drum creaking from the back row of the Circle, whatever happened to that big fundraising drive to buy it some WD-40?) Bloating is the show's biggest problem but it's also, paradoxically, what just about salvages it: The story's deathly pace means the audience is always well ahead of the action, but Kushner and the other creatives' diversions from it are unpredictable enough to make it, if not justify the hefty running time, not feel like the time was wasted.

The Visit, or, The Old Lady Comes To Call by Friedrich Dürrenmatt in a version by Tony Kushner is booking in repertory until the 13th of May at the National Theatre's Olivier.

Running time: 3 hours 35 minutes including two intervals.

Photo credit: Johan Persson.