Review: BEN AND IMO, Orange Tree Theatre

After running at the RSC's Swan Theatre last year, Erica Whyman's quietly captivating production of Mark Ravenhill's play Ben and Imo now makes its way south to the Orange Tree Theatre.

Set in 1952, the production follows Benjamin Britten as he attempts to compose an opera commemorating the coronation of Queen Elizabeth II. As he works on Gloriana, he is forced to enlist the help of talented composer and musician Imogen Holtz (daughter of the famous Gustav of "The Planets" fame) as his musical assistant. The pair strike up an uneasy and uneven friendship, both dedicated to the composition, but Britten's destructive character means that Imo's patience and persistence is tested to its very limit.

The play is about creative collaboration, hinting at how female authorship is erased. Britten is increasingly awful to Imogen as he grinds through the creative process. At one point, Imogen resolves to leave but fails to do so, driven by her pure love for the music. Through her, Ravenhill probes the question of how much can or should be endured for art's sake. 

So is this yet another another story of a woman propping up the capricious genius of a petulant man? Yes and no. Both are outsiders; Imogen is a woman trying to pick her way through what was (and arguably remains) very much a man's world of musical composition and Britten was gay at a time when it was still illegal. What really brings the play to life is Victoria Yeates and Samuel Barnett's excellent chemistry. You believe in every push and pull of the relationship and it is so refreshing to see a relationship on stage that never hints at sexual attraction (even a kiss is only due to passion for the music).

Yeates is a hugely likable, jolly-hockey-sticks type as Imogen, making you yearn for her happiness and fulfilment. Her Imo is open, cheerful, but hugely self-deprecating. She sees herself as 'not special', rather than a talent in her own right, having spent much of her time assisting her father. Yeates is light on her feet, happy to hug and able to give as good as she gets from Ben.

Samuel Barnett is a tightly-wound Ben; at times arrogant, at times crippled with self-doubt. He begins to view Imo as much as a nanny as an assistant, openly declaring his predilection for drawing people close, only to toss them aside. Barnett gives a very physical performance, with hands thrust deep into pockets, knees locked together and hands clenched. You can really sense the tension in his body and his mind.

In a slightly overlong first half, Imo and Ben make the audience invest in their relationship, as they drink, bitch about people and work hard. We want them to succeed, but succeed together. Ravenhill brings us up sharply in the second half, with Ben suddenly throughly unlikable towards an increasingly bewildered Imo as his composition nears completion: spoilt, pompous and devastatingly cruel. It's painful to watch in such close proximity.

The production is a perfect fit for the intimate space of the Orange Tree, with the emphasis on conversation rather than action. It is easy to appreciate that the piece was first released as a BBC radio play with the amount of discourse.

Director Whyman picks up the pace using Soutra Gilmore's simple set of the music room of Britten’s home in Aldeburgh, with just a piano, a drinks tray, a lamp and an armchair for company. Using a revolve for the piano, while the actors move the rest of the furniture around, allows every side of the audience to interact with the pair. Each of them in almost constant motion in the first half, slowing down markedly in the second, as their relationship starts to disintegrate.

Carolyn Downing's sound design immerses us in the ebbs and flows of the sea outside and Conor Mitchell's music gives us a few snippets of Gloriana, but it would have been nice to have some introduction to Imogen's own compositions in some way.

It's hard to believe that this play comes from the same pen that wrote the incendiary Shopping and F**king at the Royal Court nearly thirty years ago. However, Ravenhill shows he has kept that curiosity about what makes people act the way they do. With this duo of fantastic actors, Ben and Imo is an immersive dive into the lives of two artists, who are also fallible and complicated people.

Ben And Imo is at the Orange Tree Theatre until 17 May