Last year, I found myself in a critical minority by not falling for the briny machismo of Jude Law in the Donmar revival of Eugene O’Neill’s Anna Christie. There’s more of the same tedious mythologizing of men and their primal connection to the sea here in the lesser-known and wearyingly expressionistic Hairy Ape (1922), and for a little while at least there dangles the possibility of a similarly torrid love story.
Yank (Bill Ward) works in the stokehole of a transatlantic liner, which is all sweaty muscles and greasy vests as portrayed in an impressively choreographed sequence. Mildred (Emma King), the flighty daughter of a rich industrialist, decides to sample life below deck, but recoils in horror at the inferno-like scene she witnesses and the ‘beasts’ that work there. Yank’s reaction could tip either way, into love or loathing, but he chooses the latter, setting off on a dangerous domino-sequence of violent reactions against Mildred’s disgust. Of Mildred and her angelic all-white dress we see no more.
Director Kate Budgen has got quite a lot right with her muscular production, not least its attractive cruciform staging and a compelling sense of a physical work ethic. Nonetheless, the frustratingly sketchy scenes are bedevilled with audibility problems and, ultimately, it’s impossible to view the unappealing Yank as representative of the downtrodden working man.
The Hairy Ape runs until June 9 (020 7407 0234, southwarkplayhouse.co.uk)
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