Long Day's Journey Into Night - Theatre review

Wyndham's Theatre, London

Photo: Johan Persson

Eugene O’Neill’s Long Day’s Journey Into Night has everything you might need in a family drama: Bitterly jealous older brother, check; stingy father who loves alcohol way too much, check; judgemental younger son, check; morphine addicted mother...check?

Let’s circle back for a second. It’s not explicitly stated in the script, but if you’re aware of O’Neill’s life and the autobiographical nature of the play, plus all the hints the characters give us, you realise that something dark has led this family to near self-destruction. And that something is none other than a long battle with drug addiction.

It’s summer and the Tyrone family are all gathered in their summer house, which can hardly be called ‘home’ as Mary (played by the fabulous Patricia Clarkson) points out multiple times. The day starts full of promise of a clean future for Mary; father and sons are hopeful that she actually has changed and that she’s ready to leave morphine behind. But that doesn’t last for long. The worry for Edmund’s, the youngest son, health is crashing her and she’s not ready to accept the fact that his ‘summer cold’ is something much more life-threatening. And by the end of the day, after a lot of glasses of scotch and walks down memory lane, it’s crystal clear that Mary has succumbed to the sweet haziness of morphine once again.

Watching two legends like Brian Cox, playing James Tyrone, and Patricia Clarkson on stage is a gift I didn’t know I needed. Their effortless acting, individually and together, brings out the complicated relationship between two people who have been together for 35 years and, unavoidably, have a lot of wounds to heal.

It’s almost painful to see how everyone’s baggage is holding them back from truly forgiving themselves and others. Love is definitely there, crashed under layers of accusation, grief and hostility.  The greatest thing about this production is that, by the end of it, you can’t really take anyone’s side. O’Neill’s writing is brilliant, but what makes it truly powerful is the four actors, under Jeremy Herrin’s direction, coming together and pouring everything they have into telling the story of a dysfunctional family.

I have to admit that there were times where the brilliant writing did feel like never-ending narration and exposition, which is difficult to avoid in a play with such limited action.

The set matches the naturalistic side of the play perfectly; no warmth for the audience to hold onto, no hints of a happy family inhabiting the gloomy house. Lighting is the same, with the only exception being Mary’s last entrance. She walks in with her wedding gown in her hands and a bright flash of light takes over the stage, smartly hinting Mary’s detachment from reality, a ghost lost in the fog of her memories. And her family can only sit by and watch.

A brilliant production of one of the greatest American plays, yet there is some room for more artistic risks and bold choices.