The Normal Heart (PREVIEW), Olivier - National Theatre ★★

Last night, the Broadway production of the hit play The Inheritance won several Tony Awards at the ceremony celebrating all things theatre in 2020. I was so glad to hear this, as the production I saw twice in London - first the two parts at the original Young Vic, then the transfer over the river to the Noël Coward Theatre, was an emotional rollercoaster, from start to finish. Matthew López’s play was set in New York, and explores the love between gay men a generation after the AIDS epidemic.

 

Tonight, I’m at one of my favourite theatrical spaces, the illustrious Olivier theatre, the largest performance area at the National Theatre. I was glad to be back, my first visit since before the COVID closure, and especially after my rant yesterday about the NT's unfair ticketing policy. When I found my seat, in the circle gods, I was a bit shocked at what I saw on stage. 

My initial rushed reaction was ‘oh, this play, The Normal Heart must be set in some kind of factory’ , as the vision I saw on stage, reminded me of an urban council-built setting, like the set for Everyone’s Talking About Jamie or The Commitments. It took a few seconds for me to realise that this was no set, but rather a new seating bank, in order to create a round theatrical space, as opposed to the Olivier’s normal semi-circular, end on space. This is what I loved about the original Olivier, as it was based on the glorified Home of theatre, the Epidaurus ancient theatre, in Greece, celebrated for its exceptional acoustics.  

 

My heart did sink a bit, as one of the delights of the Olivier for me was this amazing complex stage that has created some of my most memorable theatrical images. From Frankenstien to War Horse, or the recently experienced Irish landscape for Friel's Translations. I really hope this ugly eye-sore of a seating bank is temporary, as I’d hate for every show I see here to be in the round. Having already mentioned The Inheritance, my thoughts returned to the original empty grey-traversed-space at the Young Vic, with a large company to fill it. Another similarity is the theme of both plays, as HIV and tragically AIDS are key to both productions.

 

Originally written in 1985, (a year after the last scene of this chronological play), Larry Kramer’s play feels like a long rant-filled, fact-fuelled attack on the American Nation, by an angry young man, fighting his grief. Semi-autobiographical, it centres on a loud-mouthed ‘bully’ called Ned Weeks (Ben Daniels) who is invited by Dr Emma Brookner (Liz Carr) to use his ‘big mouth’ to inform and warn the gay community, of the deadly dangers of this new unknown virus, that was killing so many gay men, in 1981. 

But in an age where being gay was not as openly accepted as it (thankfully) is these days, Ned’s anger is understandably acceptable, to a certain degree. Unfortunately, the ranting never stopped, and became addictive, and eventually several other characters joined in, which by 2021, I found to be difficult to hear and watch. All the emotion of the piece was completely starved of any oxygen until the last fifteen minutes. By that time, for me, I was lost. 

Back in 1985, I can wholeheartedly understand how raw, powerful and political this piece was, to their generation. A film version was also made about 2014, and I can only imagine that this too, with its vast cinematic canvas, would have been a memorable watch. But by 2021, especially after Russell T Davies’ far more powerful recent TV series It’s a Sin, plus my recent re-visit to Kevin Elliott’s My Night With Reg, and previously praised The Inheritance,  (all of whom had far more likeable, credible characters) I’m afraid this piece didn't excite me at all. 

With less talk of AIDS these days, certainly as a tragic death sentence it was back at the beginning of the 1980’s, and the rise in use of PrEP which protects people from catching the HIV virus, I felt the play had lost a lot of its power. I was only ten years old in 1983, so I only caught the fear of the epidemic through horrendous gravestone TV adverts and the ‘don’t die of ignorance’ warnings. From my cosy Welsh cocoon, I was lucky enough not to know anyone who caught or painfully died from the virus, well not openly known anyway. As all the tv and theatre shows named above recall, the fear and ignorance, the shame and the forced silence that accompanied this disease, especially within families, was as deadly as the virus itself. The emotional pain of the period comes from the appalling way these loved ones were treated, from deserted hospital wards to being bagged up and left outside by the garbage, as this particular play recalls.

Despite powerful and passionate portrayals by all the company, which includes Daniel Monks, Luke Norris, Dino Fletscher, Robert Bowman, along with aforementioned Carr and Daniels, I just didn’t enjoy the constant preaching and ranting, chronologically dictated, like a diary of a disaster. The majority of the blame must be aimed at director Dominic Cooke and set designer Vicki Mortimer, whom I can only suggest were trying to match the feel of a Greek tragedy, or the intimate no-frills flavour of The Inheritance. The dull, greying, bleak performance space didn’t help, nor did the lack of any soundscape or theatrical language to lift the dried dated dialogue, to assist a modern audience. The only true emotional stab came in the latter part of the second act, but tragically, like the virus itself, it was too little and far too late.

The Normal Heart (PREVIEW), Olivier - National Theatre ★★