This is one of my all-time favourite plays to read. I ran across a copy at my grandparentsâ house when I was a teenager and devoured it. I donât know whether it was the Derbyshire connection or the math or the Byron (even though I hate Byron) or just the sheer genius that is Tom Stoppard, but I adored it from the minute I read it.
And I got to see it, this weekend, in London, in a production that has gotten nothing but good reviews. It deserves every one of them. The play is, of course, amazing, and the cast was incredible. There were quite a few people who are not huge stars or big names, but more âOh, yeah, the guy from the thing!â type actors. Which is good because then you can focus on the show itself and not necessarily on being starstruck at seeing Matt Damon or Brendan Fraser or Alan Rickman or Charlton Heston or whoever youâre seeing. The only âweakâ point in the cast was the girl who played Thomasina [Jessie Cave, who was in Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince] and itâs hard to tell whether it was her or the character that bothered me. She wasnât as natural as the other actors, but then her character is 13 for most of the play so she may not have needed to be. Other people-I-recognized in the cast included Lucy Griffiths (Maid Marian in the recent Robin Hood series), Hugh Mitchell (Colin Creevey in Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets), and Neil Pearson (Richard Finch in the Bridget Jones movies). Ed Stoppard, who played Valentine, Iâd heard of (since heâs Tom Stoppardâs son, heâs gotten a bit of press for this play) but hadnât seen in anything. He was fantastic â I understood Valentine as a character much more because of his performance.
Itâs hard to explain what a Stoppard play is about. The people sitting next to me asked for a plot synopsis, and I told them that it was almost impossible to synopsize a Stoppard play, especially one that jumps time the way that Arcadia does. (Here is Wikipediaâs summary, though, if youâre interested.) Itâs about math and science, literature, and sex. Itâs about chaos theory, and how historically-based literary criticism is ultimately wrong. It is a working definition of dramatic irony, and â especially in a performance like this one â proof that the Second Law of Thermodynamics does not apply to literature. This is a play where the heat just keeps building and building, and it never comes anywhere near room temperature. Itâs the type of play that makes higher-level math understandable, at least to me. Itâs the type of play that makes me wish Iâd studied it (math) more. Itâs the type of play that proves how a good writer can be educational and interdisciplinary without being pedantic.
It is a play that combines ideas and characters. Valentine wouldnât be as interesting if he werenât passionate about math as he is, and if he werenât so conflicted about the impossibility of Thomasinaâs work. Bernard wouldnât be interesting at all if he werenât so passionate about Byron and his âdiscoveryâ. And SeptimusâŚ.I was in love with Septimus after reading the play, but even more so now that Iâve seen him brought to life [especially by Dan Stevens, who is now on my âWatch him in anything he doesâ list]. Heâs especially good in the last scene, with Thomasina: he knows that itâs wrong, he knows he shouldnât give in, and yet he canât stop himself. Itâs heartbreaking, and you could see the struggle, and the inevitability, in his performance.