- Eileen Diss
Lighting designer - Mick Hughes
Costume designer - Joan Bergin
Duff - Ian Holm
Beth - Penelope Wilton
"Peter Hall's unforgettable original RSC
version (with David Waller and Peggy Ashcroft) was perhaps chillier,
more monumental. Pinter's own production is enthralling, and immediate."
The Observer, 27 November 1994.
"In Peter Hall's original production there seemed a
genuine thread of doubt: was Beth recalling Duff as he once was
or re-living some passionate affair with their employer? Pinter's
own production is much less ambiguous: Beth has chosen to lock
herself into an idealised memory of her husband while Duff is
driven to anguished desperation by her impenetrability."
Michael Billington, The Guardian, 26 November
"Under Pinter's own direction the two voices
flow alongside each other like pearls and bullets - Wilton allowing
the phrases to roll away from her, Holm increasingly urgent, metallic,
Jeremy Kingston, The Times, 25 November
performances by Mr. Holm and Miss Wilton are crystal clear, almost
achingly precise with a superb sense of balance that does full
justice to the musicality of Mr. Pinter1s duologue."
Robert McNamara, The Washington Times,
26 June 1994.
"The danger with the play is
that it can easily seem a partial, loaded, one-sided attack on
the student and on female solidarity in general .But Pinter's
production scrupulously avoids that trap by giving equal weight
to both sides of the argument. It is clear from his staging that
the professor not only dominates the student intellectually but
it physically drawn to her. But it is equally clear, from the
way she sits astride his desk in the second act that she is terrifyingly
conscious of her new-found authority. By restoring Mamet's original
ending, in which the professor is forced to confess his failings,
Pinter also brings out the pain and tragedy of the situation."
Michael Billington, The Guardian,
1 July 1993.
"By reverting to Mamet's original curtain,
Pinter reminds us that this is in the end a play about who shall
be given the power of deciding what things mean." Sheridan
Morley, The Spectator, July 1993.
"The first night when David Suchet beat [Lia
Williams] up, the men in the audience really gave her a rough
time, and cheered. She wasn't expecting it [...] I had to say
to her, it's not you. The only thing you can do is stand up for
yourself and say I'm above all this, as the character does. She's
indomitable, whether you like her or not. She can say, you1ve
beaten me up, I'm hurt, but nevertheless you're going to make
this statement. When that happens in our last five minutes, the
audience is absolutely silent. Lia has really triumphed too. It's
not very pleasant being detested on stage, to find the audience
Harold Pinter to Mel Gussow, Conversations
with Harold Pinter, London: Nick Hern, 1994, pp.148-9.
a word in this quietly spoken production is redundant. It is ideal
material for Pinter to direct: always disturbing, frequently menacing,
but only at the end breaking into violence. Pinter's control is
Malcolm Rutherford, The Financial Times,
2 July 1993.
"Options for short-circuiting the antagonists
into black and white are rigorously obliterated in Harold Pinter's
production. Its unspoken premise is that the characters are treading
a sexual minefield. Anything may trigger it off."
Irving Wardle, The Independent on Sunday,
4 July 1993.
"Reading the printed text, you feel, or at
least a complacent male like myself feels, that Mamet has painted
his play in black and white [...] In Pinter's brilliantly controlled
production, in which every line is made to count and the tension
is screwed up like a ratchet, the piece seems more subtle."
Charles Spencer, The Daily Telegraph, 2 July 1993.