In my second outing with the small group of theater companions assembled by the intrepid Elizabeth, the play was Young Marx, written by Richard Bean and Clive Coleman. It’s in London’s newest theater, Bridge Theater, beautifully situated near Tower Bridge. Met two more members of the group with Elizabeth for coffee in the lobby bar and the free muffins came with the tickets. A good start!
The seating layout is unusual, with mostly stall seating and narrow galleries on the upper tiers. This means a clear view for everyone with no support columns in the way. It feels intimate but seats 900 people and was packed for the Sunday matinee. We were just two rows from the stage, my favorite position to see how things are going. The sets were especially effective, all built on a cube that rotated to provide various street exteriors and building interiors.
The play begins when Marx literally sells his wife’s family silver, but is suspected of stealing it and fleeing the police. He’s thinking of giving up his political writing and taking a job at Paddington Station, which could help him pay for a doctor for his son and could save his marriage, though it’s a bit of a working class for a woman of his wealthy background. She is packing freshly recovered clothes from the lender and is about to drop it off.
If this all sounds serious, this is not how it is treated. The opening scenes are ridiculous and there is a lot going on in true Keystone Cops style. Marx shines on the walls, in his fireplace and in a closet to hide from the police. He takes his wife’s full case lightly with jokes that are irritating sniping rather than a laugh-out-loud humor. I wasn’t sure if I was going to like it, but I soon discovered that it was an extraordinary mix of goofy humor, satire, goofy jokes that my father could have told, and serious scenes that could be shocking and emotionally moving. It is not an easy combination to achieve.
The promotional blurb describes Marx as “emotional illiterate” and he certainly understands that. He also says he’s “young” and “horny”, which is misleading. He is in his mid-thirties with a wife and two children, and although he has an affair with a woman who loves him, this happens in the context of a failed marriage. He has an important job behind him and his friend Engels is determined that he will write again and help him keep his family together.
There are parallels with today, with the Marx family subjected to racist ridicule for being immigrants, and also arguing for and against acts of terrorism with their fellow activists. Marx and his wife argue that they agree to the use of violence, but believe that it would turn the British working class against them, especially if an attempt is made to assassinate Queen Victoria, who is loved by her subjects.
Some anachronistic comedy works well, including Marx saying at this point that there is no need for violence to destroy capitalism in Britain, as the banks will end up doing so much damage that they will leave the door open for change. No one could help but see the irony of that belief. There are also silly and anachronistic jokes, like when the policeman says he “took a course” when Marx thanks him for not using violence.
The humor can suddenly disappear as the scenes turn serious, as when Engels describes the living conditions of the poor in Manchester. Marx just described himself as “brutalized”, and Engels says that he would not use that word for himself if he had seen Manchester. There was laughter from the audience, but then it turned serious when Engels spoke of the people who worked in the mills and lived in houses crammed with mud and excrement outside so they could walk. My own ancestors on my father’s side moved to Salford from Dublin around the time this work was established due to new English laws destroying the Irish textile industry so this was a surprising scene for me. They did not receive the support of the newly formed unions, as the Irish were suspected of being the cause of the lower wages, with rhetoric very similar to Brexit speech these days. This is not mentioned in the play.
Two of the most successful scenes are a duel and a funeral. I won’t say much about them so as not to spoil the plot, as the effect of surprise on the audience is powerful. The duel absolutely scared me and it was incredibly realistic even though I was close enough to see how everything was being done. In fact, the fast-moving scenes were all very well choreographed, which is impressive in the limited space of a stage. A fight that breaks out in the reading rooms of the British Museum is also fun and intricately organized.
With the funeral, the atmosphere is captivating from the moment the coffin is carried to the moment the earth is thrown into the grave to cover it. I felt that one of the weaknesses of the play was the tendency to seek a cheap joke at every available opportunity, and this scene should have ended without a joke from Marx to his wife. He had finally shown some compassion and guilt and it would have been stronger to finish on that note. There is another point where his lover lures him in with a dilemma and he responds with a dialogue full of jokes that are not funny. I could have done it without some of the comedy, as there were so many jokes and so many types of humor that worked well that weak lines weren’t necessary, or those that undermined a situation that required a different response.
Richard Bean also wrote a version of the Carlo Goldoni comedy ‘Servant of Two Masters’, and the young Marx’s style reminded me of the more recent Italian playwright Dario Fo, whose work I really enjoy. I was left with the feeling that the young Marx would have been better off without some of the hackneyed jokes at important moments, especially since they gave the impression of a Marx almost completely lacking in empathy. In each case, it could be seen that he needed to protect his reputation and was balancing the importance of his work for the majority with the needs of the few close to him.
Instead of the less successful jokes it would have been nice to see a style more similar to that of Dario Fo in Accidental Death of an Anarchist, where improvisation is allowed for the director to add relevant jokes to the daily news. With the current sex scandals in politics, this could have added a whole new layer to the treatment of women in the young Marx. Parallels could have been drawn between Engels’ description of Manchester, the treatment of the Irish there, and the similarity to the Brexit dialogue. So I ended up liking the play, but feeling like opportunities were missed and some jokes that could have been cut.
The acting was excellent and the two boys were particularly good. The design by Mark Thompson, the direction by Nicholas Hytner and the music by Grant Olding also contributed to the atmosphere and the sense of energy and movement. It is worth seeing and the muffins were fresh and tasty! Next up, The Ferryman at the Gielgud Theater, unless Elizabeth slides in an additional play, she does so often!
