Major Barbara

This production launched the Travelex £10 season, and we'd taken due advantage. It was approaching 5pm as we took a stroll along the South Bank, and ducked into the National to see what was on. I've never read or seen a Bernard Shaw play before, and was expecting nothing more than I would from any other Victorian dramatist - moral debate with intellectual foundations, witty interplay between characatures, and perhaps a little boredom due to the sheer effortlessness of the experience. With Nicholas Hytner as Director I felt this was a sure bet, and everything good about the outreach of the NT. 

The performances were excellent, especially Simon Russel Beale as Undershaft - the armaments tycoon and estranged father to Major Barbara. Barbara is an idealistic member of the Salvation Army providing ample rom (duly exploited) to discuss Christianity, big business, poverty and war. Perhaps due to the overt idealism, I didn't find Barbara convincing, nor her fiancee - Cusins - a professor of Greek. It felt something of a let down for the physical dominance of Undershaft to be matched by a moral strength and conviction that eclipsed the younger members. The pragmatic opportunist did seem to win out, and the mental reconfigurations that allowed Barbara and Cusins to inherit the empire seemed nihilistic.

But there were no real villains in this play, and possibly no heroes. I didn't see this as an attack on the futility and hypocrisy of the Salvation Army (which is possible due to Hytner's stewardship), but struggled to gather which side I would be cheering for. The revelation that financial support is provided by a distiller and Undershaft himself, seemed less revelatory than the manipulative conduct of the shelters inhabitants - and as Undershaft noticed straight way, the manipulative behaviour of the shelters staff. But if the moral is that money corrupts, it's necessary to stray somewhat into the political ideology underpinning the play. Would our attitudes to Undershaft differ if he was a manufacturer of medicines, rather than bombs? Would we feel the same if instead of declaring that he'd sell his wares to anyone, he instead (and more accurately) specified states as his clients?

There was a lot of substance to this beguilingly minimal production. A small but robust cast, three scenes, attention on dialogue and interplay. It was neither emancipating nor thrilling, but was exactly the type of theatre that should always be available.