Hansard at the National review – thought-provoking theatre

In the largely disappointing Rufus Norris regime at the National, the premiere of Hansard was unexpected. A one-act, 90-minute play, set in the Eighties, about the travails of a Conservative politician? It sounded like the sort of thing that simply didn’t get put on very much these days, especially when it’s the first play by an actor (Simon Woods, hitherto best known as Mr Bingley in the 2005 Keira Knightley version of Pride and Prejudice). One sits back on the first night and imagines that one is going to watch an exercise in Tory-bashing. A play with the nuance and intelligence of This House seems too much to hope for.

For the first hour, this is pretty much what one gets. Robin Hesketh, as played by Alex Jennings, is a Tory MP, and high-up in the Thatcher government, returning home to his Cotswolds house for the weekend (beautifully designed by Hildegard Bechtler). His bored, left-wing wife Diana (Lindsay Duncan) is still lolling about in her dressing gown. There is an Aga, and various accoutrements of the upper-middle-classes. Hesketh was away from his London flat the previous Wednesday. Diana, who was herself “the other woman” back in the day, has no illusions about her husband’s fidelity in a largely dead marriage. But why is she so keen to get out the Super 8 projector, and why is he so reluctant?

Woods is clearly an admirer of both Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf and All My Sons, and has an ear for pointed, caustic dialogue that both Duncan and Jennings excel in landing. The audience lapped up every pointed reference to political chaos – at a time where events in Westminster could only be more dramatic than anything unfolding in the Lyttelton theatre – and Diana’s considerably more left-wing barbs got most of the biggest laughs, including her statement that “what this country wants is to be f*cked by an Etonian”. The Aga is used, and Jennings makes toast upon it.

Yet what seems forced and unnatural is the situation. In addition to the plays cited previously, there’s a fair amount of Private Lives, as Diana and Robin bicker wittily, but there is also quite a lot of the unbelievable. Despite the excellence of both actors, one can barely believe that they are a married couple of many years’ standing, and Woods’ dialogue, although often funny, leans heavily towards the expositional. One swiftly tires of being reminded of Robin’s views on political matters, and there is not an awful lot of action. The suspicion remains that this could have been an excellent half-hour Play for Today, but there simply isn’t enough going on to justify the length.

And then, in closing time, Woods finally brings it home. It would be unfair to reveal the final revelation, but it is a devastating one, and the surprising twist is that it allows Jennings – until that point, the secondary partner in the drama – to show his mettle, giving the best performance that this fine actor has produced in years. It acknowledges the world that we live in, and the one that we used to live in, and nods, sadly, at a world that we may never inhabit, and both Duncan and Jennings manage to convey the sense of something devastating, aided by revelations on both of their parts.

So, overall, this is not a classic play, or even something that is likely to be remembered in a few years. But it is a good showcase for two magnificent actors, and the final scenes, at least, are more than honourably moving. Norris, Woods and the play’s director Simon Godwin have all achieved something here. Even if it isn’t a great work of theatre, it’s still the sort of thought-provoking, engaging (and, dare one say it, middle-class) drama that has been in short supply at the National in recent years, and it is a pleasure to see it on stage.