Tom Stoppard's Arcadia defies easy categorization, a sprawling drama that effortlessly collides love, landscape gardening, Euclidian geometry, and the Romantic era with Byron in a cosmic masterpiece. As director Carrie Cracknell astutely points out, the play exists in multiple worlds simultaneously – 19th-century past and present-day academia – so close yet so far from each other.
The narrative centers around teenage prodigy Thomasina Coverly (Isis Hainsworth) and her tutor Septimus Hodge (Seamus Dillane), whose ping-pong of dialogue is both amusing and heartfelt, accompanied by a slow-burning romance. As they delve into the mysteries of the world through algebraic equations, their conversations meander through an off-stage garden that looms like a specter over the single room.
Stoppard's writing is characterized by its playful, intellectual dexterity, effortlessly juggling complex ideas such as thermodynamics and Euclidian geometry. The set design, crafted by Alex Eales, turns the single room into a celestial landscape, with planetary ellipses and oversized atoms looming overhead. Characters discuss everything from science to poetry, their conversations sparkling like conceptual holograms that tantalize but remain elusive.
The play's exploration of knowledge and hermeneutics raises fascinating questions about understanding and interpretation. While Stoppard's genius is undeniable, the sheer abstraction can be overwhelming, leaving viewers with more questions than answers.
In contrast, the modern-day scenario feels somewhat weaker, with its dramatic tension and chemistry stalling the pace of the play. The character of Bernard Nightingale (Prasanna Puwanarajah) comes across as bombastic and crass, his put-downs jarring in an otherwise refined atmosphere. However, Cracknell's production carries an exuberance that makes it impossible to resist Arcadia's infectious energy.
Ultimately, this is a play that resists solution, its complexities and contradictions leaving viewers with more than they bargained for – but what a delightful puzzle to unravel. With Stoppard at the helm, his characters are so clever, their conversations so sparkling with wit and intelligence, that it's hard not to get lost in the labyrinthine narrative of Arcadia.
The narrative centers around teenage prodigy Thomasina Coverly (Isis Hainsworth) and her tutor Septimus Hodge (Seamus Dillane), whose ping-pong of dialogue is both amusing and heartfelt, accompanied by a slow-burning romance. As they delve into the mysteries of the world through algebraic equations, their conversations meander through an off-stage garden that looms like a specter over the single room.
Stoppard's writing is characterized by its playful, intellectual dexterity, effortlessly juggling complex ideas such as thermodynamics and Euclidian geometry. The set design, crafted by Alex Eales, turns the single room into a celestial landscape, with planetary ellipses and oversized atoms looming overhead. Characters discuss everything from science to poetry, their conversations sparkling like conceptual holograms that tantalize but remain elusive.
The play's exploration of knowledge and hermeneutics raises fascinating questions about understanding and interpretation. While Stoppard's genius is undeniable, the sheer abstraction can be overwhelming, leaving viewers with more questions than answers.
In contrast, the modern-day scenario feels somewhat weaker, with its dramatic tension and chemistry stalling the pace of the play. The character of Bernard Nightingale (Prasanna Puwanarajah) comes across as bombastic and crass, his put-downs jarring in an otherwise refined atmosphere. However, Cracknell's production carries an exuberance that makes it impossible to resist Arcadia's infectious energy.
Ultimately, this is a play that resists solution, its complexities and contradictions leaving viewers with more than they bargained for – but what a delightful puzzle to unravel. With Stoppard at the helm, his characters are so clever, their conversations so sparkling with wit and intelligence, that it's hard not to get lost in the labyrinthine narrative of Arcadia.