'Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?' review — Gillian Anderson and Billy Crudup fight for the final word in Marianne Elliott's production

Read our review of Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?, starring Billy Crudup and Gillian Anderson, now in performances at @sohoplace through 19 December.

Summary

• 'Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?' is now in performances @sohoplace
• Gillian Anderson and Billy Crudup star as the couple experiencing marital strife, Martha and George
• Phoebe Horn and Josh Dylan play younger married couple, Honey and Nick

There’s no better after party in the West End right now than Marianne Elliott’s production of Edward Albee’s American classic Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?. The drinks are certainly flowing at this coveted show, which was last seen in the West End nearly a decade ago with Imelda Staunton and Conleth Hill in the lead roles.

Now is the turn of another pair of heavyweight actors: Sex Education and The X Files star Gillian Anderson and The Morning Show’s Billy Crudup, who more than measure up as Albee’s deliciously acidic hosts.

Anderson is the bitter, chain–smoking Martha, who titles herself “loud” and “vulgar”, and has built a lifetime of resentment playing wife to quick-witted yet bitingly cruel academic George (Crudup). Together, over the course of the play’s lengthy (though not to its detriment) 3 hours, 20 minutes run-time, they scrap, bicker, and hurl insults like foreplay — both relishing the verbal challenge and repelling each other, much to the horror and fascination of their young guests Nick (a new biology professor at the college) and his wife Honey, who have been invited back for a 2am nightcap.

Set in the 1960s, Albee’s play captures a transitional period in history, caught between the post-war boom when America’s collegiate system was thriving, leading to upward mobility, and the arrival of the feminist movement, which changed the lives of the wives living in the shadows of their husbands. Elliott’s production incisively explores these tensions in Miriam Buether’s claustrophobic, in-the-round living room, in which a handsome ring of light hangs over the characters like a halo (similar to the one used in the Donmar’s Natasha, Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812) ready to shut them in. The stage comes to resemble a boxing ring as the characters spar, posture and, eventually, break.

Crudup’s pedantic George is a revelation. He is bristling with resentment towards his lot in life: after being bumped up the college hierarchy during the war, he now bemoans the return of his colleagues (“not one son of a bitch got killed”) and is threatened by the arrival of young academics like Nick who represent change. He carries the weight of wasted expectation, as “heir apparent” to his father-in-law (who is head of the university). Crudup excels in showing how these disappointments (as a husband, son-in-law, professor) chip away at George’s manhood. He wears a mask, lightly passing cruel judgements, asking intrusive questions, and malevolently pursuing his guests like prey, but even he has flashes of vulnerability: shattering a bottle, wrapping his hand around Martha’s neck, and growling like a caged animal when he hears her sounds of lovemaking with another man.

Anderson matches his vitriol, endlessly badgering George and name-calling, thrusting her finger in his face as she leaves the stage, determined to have the final word. Her nasal twang grates appropriately, as she repeatedly rips into her husband, abusing their shared history to tap into all his weak spots. Anderson is completely absorbing when she commands her sexuality and draws in the ambitious Nick, cradling a cigarette in one hand, while she grabs his upper thigh with the other.

The younger stars in this cast are not to be underestimated, as they confront this older couple that becomes a cautionary tale. Josh Dylan’s Nick holds his own as he challenges George about the future of academia, while Phoebe Horn’s perky and polished Honey (costumed in a buttercup yellow dress to match her name) completely unravels as the night progresses, crying out that she wants to “dance like the wind” and swigging generously from a brandy bottle.

The audience’s horror is mirrored in their eyes during the desperate, devastating final act — named “The Exorcism” — when Martha and George peel away the layers of viciousness to reveal the achingly empty core of their relationship. There is to be no more pretending — and that final punch lands hard.

Check back for Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? tickets on LondonTheatre.co.uk

Photo credit: Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? at @sohoplace. (Photos by Johan Persson)