Review: 'The Physicists'

By James Metcalf

The Physicists is a play about three supposedly mad scientists, who have found their way into a German sanatorium, and who have seemingly gotten comfortable in their seclusion. Their formerly secretive and private lives are, however, disturbed when it is discovered by the police and chief prosecutor that three of the nurses guarding the patients have been murdered by their charges. In a sudden change of narrative, these killings – all of them carried out by strangulation – turn out to be necessities in the complex and intricate plots of government operatives who turn out to have more on their mind than physics.

Funnily enough, this convoluted and esoteric piece of theatre by the Swiss playwright Friedrich Durrenmatt and directed for the Dramabarn by Alex Wakelam, with production by Rachel Walter, is not all that fun for the audience.

A play about madness, you might think, would make for a rather engaging experience – and this it certainly does, but the writing of Durrenmatt, performed in so amateur a production (and I use the word trepidatiously, not meaning to derogate but merely stating a fact) is something to be avoided in future endeavours. Much of the exposition was unnecessary and long-winded, causing the play to forestall the occasional compelling scenes, and the histories of the scientists themselves was repeated so often, I could almost recite them myself.

Such repetition did not, however, provide any semblance of clarity. The scientific terminology, while convincing, was exclusivist and hardly accessible in a student production, and, at times, one felt as if the actors themselves hardly comprehended their own dialogue. Fortunately, this play was pulled from the fire by a whisker by the talent of the young men and women who decided to take on the challenge.

Particularly engaging was Harry Whittaker as the unpredictable and incredibly charming Sir Isaac Newton, whose mammoth wig perfectly captured his ostentatious behaviour. Also convincing was Albert Einstein, played by Peter Marshall, who pulled off the muggy sadness and regret of Einstein’s later life to great effect, and, as always, the miraculous Zoe Biles managed to bring the audience close to tears in her confessions of love and willingness to sacrifice herself and her life to the lunatic ravings of an unnerving Mobius, played by Rory Hern. 

Unfortunately, the performances of other cast members did not match those of their contemporaries. There were many mistakes, which smacked of unpreparedness, and some even seemed relatively unenthused about the concept of acting in a play of so little sense; this was compounded by the confusion caused by having several cast members playing as many as three parts, which drew attention not to the characters, but to the actors, detracting from the writing which could not afford to be subject to any distraction.

It is a sad thing when a Dramabarn performance cannot stand up against those from other occasions, but this is very little to do with the society and its production. The barn was as usual decked out in a way that services the play without diverting any attention from the actors, and it was nice to see the music and lighting department play a more prominent role in the production, where the scope for their abilities was realised as the violin of Einstein frequently broke the often palpable tension, and the spotlights acted as the sun, setting as days ended and the nights began.

As one might expect from a play about madness, The Physicists often descended into moments of insanity itself, clouding the occasional lucidity of the dialogue; however, this was not the fault of anyone but the writer. The performances were, as usual, more than up to par and it’s difficult to knock the spirit behind the production – it’s wonderful to see the Drama Society challenging itself in such a way – but this does not mean that the audience had as good a time as in previous weeks, nor should the works of Durrenmatt surface again in a venue like the barn, which is so used to productions of incomparable depth and glory. 

You can listen to James' review by visiting the URY Player