Review: DEAR LIAR, Jermyn Street Theatre

Showbusiness is rife with affairs; it’s the reason tabloids exist. While these days paramours trade in texts and DMs, epistolary correspondence used to be the currency of illicit romances. It was the case for one George Bernard Shaw and Mrs Patrick Campbell (née Beatrice Rose Stella Tanner).

Shaw met the actress in the late 1890s when he was working as a critic for The Saturday Review, but it wasn’t until the two started collaborating on Pygmalion that he fell for her. What had begun as a business connection seeping with mutual curiosity turned into an unconsummated platonic devotion. There’s much to enjoy in Jerome Kilty’s play: it’s charming, but a little boring as a whole.

Rachel Pickup and Alan Turkington are compelling, but their lack of chemistry is ultimately a problem. There’s no charge, no bite. Director Stella Powell-Jones struggles to build tension between the pair, further impaired by a monotone, if well-written, script. There are plenty of verbal tennis matches between the characters, bringing out all the wit and unabashed vanity of Shaw’s writing, but the substance of the relationship remains shallow. 

The stakes are too low for their “love story” to be magnetic and their physical separation transforms into static distance on stage. Their characterisation is the most striking part of the project, with both Pickup and Turkington stepping into amusing dramatics with clipped quips and side glances to the audience.

Shaw comes off as poetic but arrogant, caring but snappy. Turkington is often petulant, addressing his paramour by leaning on the last syllable of her name, whining a long “Stellaaah” whenever he dives into his side of the correspondence. Where he is sardonic, she is coquettish and vain. Pickup offers a Mrs Pat with baggage, aware of her position as a woman in the industry.

The issue of money returns regularly, but she always brushes it off as an afterthought. They yearn and worry about one another, living through seismic life events together, but apart. His opinions emerge vibrantly, as does her nonchalant approach to the world. It’s a shame that this synergy suffers the dearth of pull between the actors.

The tone of Kilty’s writing never alters either. Shaw’s success never falters, but Campbell’s star wanes. Yet, their liaison and how they write to each other stands seemingly unchanged. This stasis limits the chances for any kind of climax or narrative fluctuation, even though Turkington and Pickup resort to a comic delivery to show the pernickety and controlling angles of their roles.

There are further elements that throw us off, like the anachronistic pieces of clothing and modern jewellery. Visually, however, the production is interesting. Tom Paris sets the scene in a backstage limbo of sorts. It suspends the couple in time, attempting a timeless vibe that, unfortunately, never quite lands. All in all, it’s a pleasant and playful play, but nothing to write home about.

Dear Liar runs at Jermyn Street Theatre until 7 March.