JB Priestley’s classic play is a subversion of crime fiction. It initially presents as typical detective fare – and then we realise it’s doing something far bigger, more important, and much more thrilling.
The Birlings are celebrating the engagement of daughter Sheila to Gerald. They’re respectable people. When the ladies retire after dinner, and the men remain for a glass of port or two, Mr Birling takes the opportunity to share his wisdom. Every man need only look after himself and his own, the successful businessman pronounces to the younger men. Do that, and all will be right with the world.
And then an inspector calls.
Disrupting this privileged party, the inspector informs them of the recent suicide of a desperate young woman and, through an utterly enthralling chain of questions, asks them to consider their possible culpability.
I call the play a subversion because crime fiction usually asserts that it’s the detective’s commitment to rationality that will restore order to a fracture world. But this piece places its hope not in logic but in the human heart. If only we’d listen to the still small voice within, we’d realise that it’s not every man for himself, that we’re all in this together and, if the world is fractured, it’s we who might make it whole again.
It’s a beautifully rich piece and, under the direction of Ali Bendall and Mark Bull, this production is both thought-provoking and very entertaining. (That’s no small achievement. Drawing room dramas are notoriously difficult, their seemingly static world can appear to restrict creative choice. And, as a historical piece, set in a distant past even when Priestley first wrote it, Truth could all too easily atrophy into lifeless stereotype.)
The cast handle the challenging material well. David M Bond as Mr Birling is delightfully pompous, and Annabel Cotton as Mrs Birling is deliciously all prickle and pride. The younger generation, newer to the tired old ways of the world, are perhaps a little more shaken. Simon Pearce as Gerald presents moments of touching vulnerability. Rebecca Liquorish as Sheila effectively juxtaposes a frantic fear with the wondrous relief of honesty. Harry Charlesworth as younger brother Eric, the impulsive child who only Shame might mature, offers a moving portrait of moral growing pains.
And Vincent Andriano as the inspector is wonderful, a subtle physical awkwardness that underlines his outsider status contrasting brilliantly with a gloriously authoritative voice that clearly speaks command and consequence.
This is the Genesian Theatre Company’s first production in their new Rozelle home. Fans of the Kent Street proscenium arch will be pleased to see that house preference retained, and fans of engaging theatre will hope this show is an accurate portent of many things to come.
Paul Gilchrist
An Inspector Calls by JB Priestley
Presented by Genesian Theatre until 22 Feb
Theatre Red 