The Stage

Love Song

Published Thursday 21 December 2006 at 15:25 by Jeremy Austin

Sonia Friedman is the Sofia Coppola of the West End. Her shows - On the Third Day aside - have the laid-back feel of an American indie movie, with disaffected ex-generation X-ers, opening titles and a rock soundtrack. The Pixies, Lou Reed and the White Stripes are among the bands used in Love Songs.

Her casts, too, are effortlessly sexy. Neve Campbell, Kristen Johnston, Michael McKean and Cillian Murphy are an ensemble who achieve that theatrical panacea of convincing an audience that there really are no other people who could play their parts.

Certainly the material is up to the job. John Kolvenbach’s story of the existential importance of love slowly and effortlessly makes its way through two, maybe three weeks in the lives of successful middle-aged but childless couple Joan and Harry (Johnston and McKean) and Joan’s dysfunctional brother Bean (Murphy) whose life is turned around when the sassy Molly (Campbell) enters his life.

It is a perfectly structured piece. Short scenes, generally two handers, develop the plot through the characters. Joan and Harry’s’ relationship is playful, with McKean and Johnston almost acting as one as the naturalistic dialogue flows between them. Johnston, particularly, delivers her lines dripping heavily with irony, which energises all her exchanges.

Molly and Bean are much more stylised in their discourse, reflecting the surprising nature of the relationship. They construct stories together, each delivering a line, and anticipate each other unnaturally well.

It is an effective device but would be nothing without Campbell and Murphy’s performances. Campbell manages to find something fictional in her character without losing the truth - Molly seems like a Mamet character that has popped into existence - and the passion when she kisses Bean almost sets fire to the stage.

But driving the production is Murphy. His is a breathtakingly brilliant performance that weaves its way through madness, passion, extreme sensitivity and a sort of Shakespearean fool. This is as close to a perfect production as it gets.