Arcola Theatre, 18 October – 18 November. Reviewed by Claire Roderick
4****
Over one night in a 1953 New York hotel room, the lives of four American icons collide. None of the characters are ever named, simply billed as The Actress, The Professor, The Senator and The Ball Player – as the public defines them by their fame. Albert Einstein is being badgered by Senator McCarthy to testify before the House Committee for Un-American Activities while Marilyn Monroe is nearby posing for that iconic subway grate photo. She bursts into Einstein’s room determined to impress with her knowledge. The scenes between the unlikely pair aren’t quite When Albert met Marilyn, although her breathless reaction after she has demonstrated the theory of relativity (using toy trains, balloons and Mickey Mouse ears) rival THAT diner scene.
The cast don’t attempt impressions or caricatures, instead using subtle nods to the public image of Monroe and Einstein. Alice Bailey Johnson effortlessly shows Monroe’s vulnerabilities and sad understanding of the image she has built, making her reversion to this image in front of McCarthy even more touching. Simon Rouse’s Einstein is a masterclass in stillness. He allows the showier roles to shine, then steals the scene with a shrug and an arch one-liner. Rouse also reveals Einstein’s guilt and despair at life to seep through without losing the determined twinkle in his eyes. Oliver Hembrough is full of bluster as the fading baseball star, a ball of frustrated energy and anger who longs for a quiet family life with his wife. Tom Mannion is simply vile as McCarthy – that’s a compliment, honestly – smarmy and wheedling but occasionally slipping and spitting out threats as his true character emerges. His dislike of the famous, and probably everyone on earth who doesn’t think as he does, leads him to solipsism (once he’s discovered the word in his daily quest for knowledge), resulting in a fantastically ridiculous confrontation with DiMaggio as the sportsman tries to prove he is real.
When Terry Johnson wrote Insignificance, an aging wooden actor was president, now an aging orange TV reality show creation is president, but director David Mercatali doesn’t need to up the Trump stakes in this play. Sadly, nothing seems to have changed – McCarthy snarling about being a God-lovin’, gun-totin’ Wisconsin boy says it all really. Mannion does use the Trump finger loops when he is being most duplicitous, making the character even more unpalatable, but also highlighting the long line of political pantomime villain personas that the public love to hate. Fame is fleeting, and there’s always someone waiting to take your place in the public arena.
There’s not much action in this wordy play, just bedroom farce style entrances and exits, but the script is so good, and the cast so convincing that it doesn’t matter. There are lovely moments with Einstein’s friend’s cat, and the riffs on Heisenberg’s uncertainty principle are the plays main message – that we change what we are observing – and Marilyn Monroe is surely one of the saddest examples of that fact.