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Absolutely hellish tedium
Excellent performances can't redeem the inconsequentiality of Rodney Ackland's play, says MAYER WAKEFIELD
SIMON DUFF relishes the cross contamination of Damien Hirst’s greatest hits by street artists from France and the US
In view of the grooming gangs inquiry, SIMON PARSONS feels the relevance of this powerful examination of trauma suffered at Medomsley Youth Detention Centre
JOHN GREEN doubts the motivations of a US war photographer who never questions why, or for whom, she is producing images of imperialist conflict
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PAUL DONOVAN welcomes an inspiring account of living with deafness that has important lessons for the treatment of deaf people in today’s UK
Absolute Hell
National Theatre, London
RODNEY ACKLAND'S 1952 play Absolute Hell and the director of this latest revival, Joe Hill-Gibbins, both come with a reputation for raucousness. Surprising then that, despite many a flourish, this production fails to deliver on its satanic promise.
Set in the immediate aftermath of WWII Soho, with a Labour election victory looming, Ackland’s work — initially titled The Pink Room — was greeted with such negative critical fervour that it was forced to close within three weeks, losing its producer Terence Rattigan £3,500 and their friendship to boot.
A series of high-profile revivals have restored the play's reputation and that of its author, but, despite painting beautifully detailed character sketches, the full picture ultimately underwhelms in 2018.
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