Shadowlands Review: Sanitised Production Fails to Capture Mortality's Dark Realities
At the conclusion of CS Lewis's beloved Narnia chronicles, the children discover they have perished in the tangible world – the enchanted realm they have been exploring is, in truth, a celestial paradise where they will reside eternally. Should this notion strike you as even slightly unsettling or excessively sentimental, then you would be well advised to avoid the profoundly moralistic and intensely saccharine universe of the film-turned-play Shadowlands.
A Sermon on Stage
The production commences with a robed Lewis delivering a homily, asserting that genuine existence is merely a shadowy land when juxtaposed with the radiant rewards of the afterlife. It subsequently depicts him rigorously testing his convictions to their absolute limits when his belated romantic entanglement takes a devastating turn.
Television's cherished, impeccably mannered English gentleman, Hugh Bonneville – renowned for Downton Abbey and Paddington – infuses the character of this pious, emotionally constrained man with considerable amiable charm. Regrettably, neither this sterilised staging nor his relentlessly temperate portrayal manages to encapsulate the more sombre truths concerning bereavement, sexuality, and human mortality.
Oversimplifying a Complex Life
The authentic Lewis led a personal existence far more intricate and vibrant than his public sermons might suggest. Despite advocating the virtues of matrimony, he cohabited for decades with a woman and her young daughter, with scholars examining his private journals concluding they were undoubtedly lovers. Playwright William Nicholson conveniently sweeps this inconvenient biographical detail under the rug.
Instead, he renders Lewis as a solitary child trapped within the physique of a middle-aged academic clad in tweed. Upon encountering the married American poet Joy Davidman – portrayed with vivacity by Maggie Siff – she is framed as the inaugural female intruder into his monastic quarters. When they eventually marry, she must gently console him that he may continue kneeling in his pyjamas for prayers, entirely undisturbed.
Charm Amidst Cynicism
If one can momentarily suspend cynicism, these initial sequences possess a certain allure. Siff embodies the awkward impulsiveness of a woman who voyaged from New York solely to take tea with her literary hero, carrying her verses internally like an undetonated explosive requiring careful handling. She represents a perilous addition to Lewis's sedate social circle: erudite gentlemen who gather in his library like crows in black gowns, debating arid topics of literature and theology.
Timothy Watson skilfully avoids caricature as the most antagonistic among them, Sir Christopher, who perceives women as irrational beings to be shunned at all costs. Unsurprisingly, Lewis holds a contrary view.
Poetry and Proximity
Lewis and Joy connect through verse, citing 16th-century poet Sir Philip Sidney: "desire is a baby" that must be nourished, thereby rationalising their progressively contemporary relationship. Over tea, she gradually integrates into his life, awkwardly accommodated alongside the brother with whom he resides. Subsequently, calamity propels the couple from the shadows into stark reality.
Missing Joy and Melodrama
Director Rachel Kavanaugh incorporates subtle magical touches – a forest glimpsed beyond bookshelves, gently descending snow – hinting at the imaginative realms Joy and Lewis traverse together. Nevertheless, an underlying joylessness persists, stemming from the play's hesitation to depict the couple experiencing genuine happiness before descending into a world of hospitals and anguish.
It seems Nicholson can only legitimise portraying their affection once Joy is gravely ill, perhaps due to her status as a scandalously divorced woman, thus ineligible for conventional Christian marriage. The bleaker second act exchanges flirtation for a heavily romanticised portrayal of Joy's agony, replete with theatrical cries of pain and extensively debated spiritual crises.
A Theatrical Sermon
Certain audiences may eagerly embrace this as a more emotional substitute for a church homily, yet they merit superior fare. Authentic existence is considerably more complex than the trite, quotable moralising that saturates the play's latter segments. An author possessing the imaginative capacity to transform God into a benevolent lion would undoubtedly have comprehended this profound truth.
Shadowlands continues its run at the Aldwych Theatre until 9 May.
