'Man to Man' review — the remarkable Tilda Swinton is gruff, vulgar, and defiant

Read our review of Manfred Karge's play Man to Man, now in performances at the Royal Court to 24 October.

Between the rise of the Reich and the later split of the nation into east and west, Germany went through something of an identity crisis in the 20th century – to put matters mildly. The country’s troubled (and troubling) history between the 1930s and 1980s is explored in Manfred Karge’s play Man to Man through a single woman, Ella, who adopts the identity of her husband Max following his premature death from cancer in order to work – and survive.

This version, translated into English by Anthony Vivis, was a sensation at the Royal Court in 1987, where it was staged by a group of twentysomethings who’d previously had a hit with the play in Edinburgh. Among them was the director Stephen Unwin and the designer Bunny Christie, both of whom have, of course, enjoyed hugely successful careers in theatre in the almost 40 years since. The sole performer, meanwhile, was Tilda Swinton, now a household name on account of her leading roles on screen.

This revival, landing as part of the Royal Court’s 70th anniversary season, follows in the footsteps of last year’s 4.48 Psychosis in essentially offering audiences the closest thing to stepping back in time: with the core creatives of that seminal production all on board, we’re brought a piece of landmark theatre from the past, fully intact.

For theatre nerds, this is particularly thrilling. For everyone else, the real boon is a rare opportunity to see Swinton on stage. Few actors have her remarkable ability to dissolve into her characters, leaving no trace of her previous incarnations. So it’s easy to forget you’re watching Swinton as she burps and swaggers around the stage as Ella-turned-Max.

A working-class German, Swinton bestows her with a thick cockney accent, sardonic sense of humour, and a matter-of-fact attitude towards a hard-up life that’s seen her operate cranes, toil as a farm hand, work in factories and do her best to dodge military conscription – the assessments for which would have exposed her true gender.

Under Christie’s self-consciously cool design, though, she looks more like an 80s rock star. Her short hair stands as if petrified above her head, while a cakey smear runs down her cheek. Beneath a fishnet vest occasionally coupled with a suit jacket, she does not wear her husband’s trousers, as the play’s blurb describes, but a pair of red Y-fronts, exposing her bare legs, bloodied knees and chunky black boots.

Behind her, the set is also evocative of the music industry, with an amp at the back and a mic at the front of what appears to be a gleaming white box – the kind in which you might record a music video. It’s disorientating – jarring, even – though arguably in a Brechtian way (a nod to the fact Karge himself was trained by the great theatre practitioner).

Red tape runs along the centre, splitting the stage into east and west Berlin. In one of two scenes added for this revival, Swinton eventually rips up the tape to mark the fall of the wall. In the other, we’re given a chilling reminder that the far right are mobilising again.

We meet Ella at the end of her ordeal, living humbly in a flat, propped up by Max’s pension and beer. The monologue itself is dense in places, and while the fragmented narrative suits a character whose potentially dodgy memory flits around while looking back, it also means the antifascist message never quite reverberates as it should. But, even so, you can’t take your eyes off Swinton: gruff, vulgar, defiant, and remarkable.

Man to Man is at the Royal Court to 24 October. Book Man to Man tickets on LondonTheatre.co.uk

Photo credit: Man to Man (Photos by Ruediger Glatz)