Giant @ Royal Court Theatre, London
Thoughtful, nuanced writing about national treasure Roald Dahl and his expressed in print prejudice and stereotyping of Jewish people. Moving beyond cancel culture or ‘does this really matter?’ the play and its powerful performances examine how you can be an intelligent, caring, thinking, loved person and still hold hate in your heart — and express hate out of your mouth, and in your words. It also examines the impact of prejudice on the ‘others you’re othering’ when one is your friend/publisher and another brought in to manage the media storm you’ve just created.
John Liftgow as Roald Dahl look-alike was mesmerising — a cheeky, cranky, debating, lovable old Grandfather one moment, the next justifying his beliefs because he’d never met any Jews in his regiment during the war — and his jolly old gardener friend Wally Saunders (Richard Hope) hadn’t either, so…what he was saying must be true reasonably, statistically. However, it’s also grounded in ignorance as the view sees people not like us as very much other.
Battling pain, as a beloved children’s writer, Dahl really cares about the suffering and pain of children world-wide and clearly wants to use his status to end global suffering. His quietly in the background friend and British publisher, Tom Maschler (Elliot Levey) has brought in Dahl’s American publisher, Jessie Stone (Romola Garai) to manage the media carnage and persuade Dahl to apologise publicly. Dahl won’t as he pleads free speech and freedom of ideas. However, at the same, he looks away and remains silent, when the issue of justifiable self-defense is raised. Maybe, Romola Garai’s American Jewish journalist parries, the ongoing suffering of Jewish children doesn’t matter so much to him — and why is that?
Trying to keep everyone calm, quiet and frankly to get them to all shut up, is Rachael Stirling’s equally magnificent Felicity Crosland, Roald Dahl’s fiancée. Whilst also managing a complete house DIY revamp — builders and dust sheets everywhere. Although much of her part involves putting her head in her hands or shushing people, Rachael Stirling plays an equally strong part — a steely foil to John Lithgow’s crafty, charming Dahl.
In the midst of them all is Hallie (Tessa Bonham Jones), who is cheerful young chef, straightforward and almost Dahl’s conspirator — especially when chocolate bars are concerned. However, along with Tom, she quietly observes in the background, until she (also along with Tom) provide the shock of the play at the end.
Tom is being othered by Dahl in a different way — being forced to comment on all issues ‘Jewish’ or ‘Israeli’, when he just sees himself as a person, not a cultural identity. He sees his experiences as born of ignorance, ignorant storytelling passed down from generation to generation, rather than deliberate malice. Having escaped the Holocaust as a child on the Kindertransport, he wants to focus on living now — only Dahl won’t quite let him. No wonder Tom ends up playing so much tennis — perhaps to manage the frustration of managing Dahl! At the same time he really likes and admires Dahl — considers him a friend and cares for him. Sadly Dahl is not above manipulating their friendship as the play progresses.
In contrast, Jessie Stone can’t help but grow increasingly outraged as Dahl begins to compare the state of Israel to the Nazis, almost deny their right to be. She too is fighting for the children — and what they’re exposed to through literature. Thought she claims to be culturally Jewish (just for the big holidays), she’s horrified by what she hears — and firmly on the side of the small Jewish owned book stores who can no longer (in conscience) stock Dahl’s books. Her character shows very much the impact of hate speech and ‘opinions’ on those you’re claiming to criticise. Is this criticism or is this going beyond this to hate and prejudice? Jessie Stone brings the bigger picture — of how Dahl’s witches link into the horrible historical prejudices levelled against Jews as child killers, of blood libel, of promoting a global controlling secret cabal of financiers and government manipulators. Dahl and ‘Flissy’ choose not to see this, dismissing it as overblown nonsense. What, the play asks us, we will choose to see or not see? Is this too much? (and whose ‘too much’ is it?)
In some ways, Dahl can be seen as lovably old fashioned (like Winston Churchill, a relic from a past age and class), and yet during the play, his views creep from criticism of a system or a government to a whole people. Which he denies that he’s doing. No wonder Jessie Stone ends up weeping in the garden.
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