Nicholas Lyndhurst made one of his rare appearances on the English stage yesterday, and I was pleased that I was there to see it.
Forever known for his popular TV roles in 'Only Fools and Horses' and 'Butterflies', Lyndhurst gave a brilliant, controlled performance playing the role of, 'The Dresser' in Ronald Harwood's well known play.
As the blitz rages, and rations are imposed not just on the food, but also on the willing and available actors to make up the company, Julian Glover's character 'Sir' comes close to a breakdown, while struggling to perform his 227th King Lear. Standing in the glare of the bright lights fixed upon his every movement, this aging thespian seems to grow taller as the play progresses. However, right from the start, we the audience are allowed to see behind this theatrical sleight of hand to the real power source, and that power source comes in the form of a devoted, effeminate, woman-hating dresser called Norman, who gives the actor his confidence to perform this great conjuring act. Norman proves himself indispensible by amongst other things, helping 'Sir' with his lines, protecting him from distractions before the curtain call, and even helps out with the sound effects during the performance.
One of the saddest moments in the script is when Lyndhurst's character laments the fact that his master had at no point during the 16 years he had served him, taken him out for a meal, or even bought him a drink, yet Norman does understand the relationship he occupies, and part of the equation is that he must be willing to accept the constant verbal abuse, which he does,-feeling that this is the acceptable price of his masters genius.
On the way home, navigating my way through the usual horrific build up of pre-rush hour traffic, I started to realize just how fragile our life really is, how often we're kept afloat by so many uncredited forces. Without that supporting cast, we'd simply curl up and die. In one of his rare moments of honesty, 'Sir' could see that Norman the dresser in his own way helped him to be who he was. He helped him to realize that every word he uttered on stage acted as a shield to the bombs. Norman achieved the impossible with his consoling words, figuratively taking his master into the bomb shelter, and lifting the Cosmos from off his shoulders.
No one really stands alone, isn't that the truth? All manner of forces sustain and bind us to the task ahead. I wonder who makes up the supporting cast in out life? Now there's something to think about...
