LONDON — Talk about saving the best for last. For six months, the Harold Pinter Theater has been given over to a unique sequence of Pinter one-acts, presented under the curatorial eye of Jamie Lloyd, who directed some of these lesser-known plays himself. The results tested the receptiveness of theatergoers in the West End, not exactly a climate for classy esoterica.
Now Mr. Lloyd is back at the same address with a starry revival of “Betrayal,” one of the most frequently performed plays by the Nobel laureate, who died in 2008. And lest anyone assume that casting the movie star Tom Hiddleston in a familiar Pinter title was a cynical cash grab, think again. Extended through June 8 to meet ticket demand, this “Betrayal” represents a benchmark achievement for everyone involved, and shows Pinter’s 1978 play in a revealing, even radical, new light.
The play famously begins at the end of a prolonged love affair and winds backward to the impetuous gesture that started the relationship nine years earlier. But Pinter twice moves the action forward, too, and the jagged narrative traces the gathering anxiety and animosity as Robert (Hiddleston) learns during a holiday in Venice of the entanglement between his wife, Emma (Zawe Ashton), and his best friend, Jerry (a wonderfully open-faced Charlie Cox).
Jerry and Emma meet regularly, in secret, at a North London apartment. Years after the play’s premiere at the National Theater, it became clear that Pinter based the play on his own affair with the English broadcaster Joan Bakewell.
Mr. Lloyd, in a masterstroke, gives us the invisible presence of the third party who inevitably hovers over such scenarios: All three actors are onstage virtually throughout, shadowing or silently observing when they’re not part of a scene. So, when the two men are dining at an Italian restaurant without the woman they share, Emma is visible, too; when she is in the clutches of her husband or lover, the other man is never far from view.
Jon Clark’s masterful lighting picks out the characters and throws their shimmering silhouettes against the back wall of Soutra Gilmour’s gorgeous if largely unadorned set: With the exception of a few chairs, there are hardly any props to get in the way.
The elemental staging lets us peer deep into the sorrowful heart of this most wounding play. Mr. Lloyd shows that desolation is the actual bond between three restless people who cannot come to peace.
The actors engage in a poignant ballet. At one point, they link bodies as if engaged in an actual dance. Ms. Ashton’s smile at the start (which, in narrative terms, is also the end) falls away to reveal an ache you sense will never subside, while Mr. Hiddleston has charisma and ferocity as Robert, the most feral of the three. The actor appears misty-eyed on more than one occasion, and I’d be surprised if his enthralled audience weren’t similarly affected.
Pinter’s influence extends far and wide and includes, perhaps against expectation, the French playwright Florian Zeller, who has made clear his admiration for this most English of writers. Mr. Zeller also likes to play with time and perspective, and his writing shares a lean, bare-bones aesthetic familiar to admirers of Pinter, whose “Old Times” is a three-hander in which we aren’t always sure whether the characters are actually alive. (That same ambiguity courses through Mr. Zeller’s “The Height of the Storm,” which premiered in Paris in 2016 and will be seen on Broadway next fall.)
It thus comes as something of a surprise to encounter the narrative straightforwardness of “The Son,” Mr. Zeller’s latest London opening after such titles as “The Father,” “The Mother,” “The Truth” and “The Lie.” The clean, streamlined production, directed by Michael Longhurst, will run at the Kiln Theater in North London until April 6.
What you see is what you get in this account of a teenage son, Nicholas (Laurie Kynaston), whose psychological free fall brings calamity to his parents. Unable to understand, in his words, “the point of life,” Nicholas ricochets between his divorced mother and father, and their son’s distress only amplifies their own.
Particular weight is given to the father, Pierre (John Light at his most intense), whose efforts to allay his son’s malaise, or even to understand it, backfire in ways that should not be given away here. You could even imagine this play’s being called “The Father,” had that title not already been used for the drama that first brought Mr. Zeller to attention in Britain and the United States, winning Olivier and Tony awards for its leading actors.
“The Son” doesn’t offer its performers the same opportunities to burrow into their characters, who devolve into more agitated versions of themselves, without the depth of the trio in “Betrayal.” I found myself wishing for the nuance and complexity of Mr. Zeller’s earlier works, next to which “The Son” feels like a dramatized case study.
This latest play does hold back one trick, setting up a preposterously sentimental ending that, it won’t surprise you, isn’t what it seems. By that point, though, the baldfaced quality of the play has the effect of running in place: You emerge impressed by the commitment of the actors, but little the wiser about the recesses of the human mind that Pinter makes endlessly provocative, sexy and moving.B:
【想】【到】【这】【里】，**【的】【脸】【色】【也】【变】【了】。【他】【知】【道】【欧】【阳】【康】【永】【失】【踪】【了】，【却】【不】【觉】【得】【他】【会】【出】【什】【么】【事】。【毕】【竟】【他】【们】【相】【处】【的】【这】【段】【时】【间】【里】，【欧】【阳】【康】【永】【那】【个】【小】【子】【有】【什】【么】【本】【事】，【他】【还】【真】【没】【有】【看】【透】。 【那】【么】【有】【本】【事】【的】【一】【个】【人】，【要】【是】【出】【了】【事】，【那】【才】【是】【最】【大】【的】【损】【失】。 【这】【件】【事】【其】【实】【也】【怪】【他】【们】，【排】【挤】【对】【方】【太】【过】【于】【厉】【害】。【甚】【至】【可】【以】【说】，【只】【给】【欧】【阳】【康】【永】【了】【一】【个】【空】【头】
【离】【开】【光】【明】【殿】，【两】【人】【去】【往】【鹤】【池】。 【鹤】【池】，【顾】【名】【思】【义】，【就】【是】【养】【鹤】【的】【地】【方】。 【天】【家】【道】【观】，【自】【是】【与】【别】【处】【的】【不】【同】。【不】【仅】【能】【养】【得】【起】【一】【品】【君】【菊】，【还】【养】【得】【起】【白】【鹤】【这】【等】【仙】【人】【之】【物】。 【鹤】【池】【边】，【三】【只】【白】【鹤】【立】【足】【栖】【息】，【白】【色】【的】【羽】【毛】【纯】【如】【白】【净】【的】【雪】【山】，【红】【色】【细】【长】【的】【两】【腿】【没】【入】【水】【中】，【尖】【嘴】【仰】【天】，【势】【要】【仰】【天】【长】【啸】。【时】【不】【时】【地】【拍】【打】【一】【下】【翅】【膀】，【渐】【起】【水】
【本】【文】【已】【正】【式】【向】【编】【辑】【申】【请】【了】【无】【限】【期】【停】【更】，【原】【因】【我】【也】【不】【想】【说】【好】【听】【话】【骗】【你】【们】，【就】【是】【拿】【限】【免】【卷】，【免】【费】【币】【看】【书】【的】【人】【太】【多】【了】，【没】【有】【真】【实】【订】【阅】，【没】【有】【钱】。 【幸】【幸】【苦】【苦】【上】【几】【个】【月】【班】，【连】【一】【盒】【面】【膜】【都】【买】【不】【起】，【我】【实】【在】【坚】【持】【不】【下】【去】【了】，【要】【把】【写】【它】【的】【时】【间】【拿】【去】【写】【新】【文】，【望】【理】【解】。 【理】【解】【不】【了】【也】【没】【关】【系】，【反】【正】【就】【是】【暂】【时】【不】【会】【再】【集】【中】【写】【它】【了】，【大】【结】
…………【别】【看】，【草】【稿】。【我】【实】【在】【熬】【不】【住】【了】，【正】【写】【着】【都】【睡】【着】【了】，【明】【天】【修】【改】【再】【看】【吧】…… 【等】【人】【散】【去】，【荒】【凉】【的】【工】【地】【上】【只】【剩】【下】【蝴】【蝶】【和】【猫】【头】【鹰】。 “【你】【真】【的】【决】【定】【和】【那】【个】【徐】【圆】【圆】【接】【触】【吗】？”【蝴】【蝶】【忽】【然】【说】【道】，“【通】【过】【我】【在】【网】【络】【上】【的】【调】【查】，【这】【个】【徐】【圆】【圆】【不】【但】【和】【沈】【贺】【两】【家】【有】【合】【作】，【甚】【至】【和】【特】【调】【局】【有】【着】【千】【丝】【万】【缕】【的】【联】【系】。【你】【这】【样】【做】，【岂】【不】【是】【走】
【苏】【杭】【已】【死】…… 【这】【样】【一】【个】【噩】【耗】【迅】【速】【的】【传】【遍】【了】【全】【球】，【那】【些】【真】【心】【期】【待】【奇】【迹】【降】【临】【的】【人】【们】【沉】【浸】【在】【了】【悲】【痛】【之】【中】，【那】【些】【忌】【惮】【苏】【杭】【力】【量】【的】【领】【导】【者】【们】【则】【是】【松】【了】【一】【口】【气】，【然】【后】【通】【过】【官】【方】【发】【生】【表】【示】【了】【哀】【悼】。 【对】【领】【导】【者】【而】【言】，【活】【着】【的】【英】【雄】【不】【是】【好】【英】【雄】，【死】【去】【的】【英】【雄】【却】【是】【最】【棒】【的】【宣】【传】【材】【料】，【各】【地】【区】***【纷】【纷】【表】【态】【悼】【念】，【对】【苏】【杭】【的】【事】【迹】【赞】【不】【绝】