In the new year, Mark Thomson takes over as artistic director of the Royal Lyceum in Edinburgh. That is a shame, because it means it could be some time before we see another studio show from him. On this evidence, it is a form in which he is virtually peerless. Pleasure and Pain is a production of tremendous bonhomie and wit, stirred up with a strongly felt sense of tragedy. The chances of seeing two shows this exhilarating in any given year are very slim indeed.
Events from the life of flamboyant writer Guy de Maupassant are rapidly intercut with dramatisations of some of his stories. It doesn't sound much, but it works like a charm. To trace Maupassant's burgeoning syphilitic madness through the lens of his Poe-faced horror stories would have been a little blunt. Instead we are given some deliciously observed and very human tales of such frightening accuracy that the muddy marital squabbles they present could have taken place only yesterday. It is a master class in transforming simple observations into exquisite situations - sitcoms with edge. It does Maupassant proud.
At the centre of the show, John Kazek as Maupassant quickly insinuates himself into our affections. With glinting eye and curling lip, he alternately flatters and abuses us, himself and the world with the assurance of a member of the gentry sweeping around his ancestral home. And as Maupassant sinks into madness and despair, Kazek's performance deepens into one of rare quality, a moving and committed portrayal of a stammering, hallucinating wreck.
As an array of married and adulterous couples, Stephen Cavanagh and Lorna McDevitt give sterling support. Their lively sparrings occasionally manage the remarkable feat of improving the stories, in some of which Maupassant's vivid objectivity is not far short of being its own dramatisation.
Thomson does not neglect Maupassant's literary philosophy. There are erudite and vivid discussions of the work of a man who sometimes seems caught between the pseudo-scientific naturalism of Zola and the florid precision of Flaubert. This Maupassant admires the work of both men, combining their best elements in his own work but scorning their excesses. Thus Pleasure and Pain is not only terrific theatre in its own right, but also a powerful argument for the genius of its subject.
It falls just short of flawlessness. Towards the end it succumbs to occasional longueurs, and Cavanagh and McDevitt pall slightly in the shadow of the incomparable Kazek. Still, the Royal Lyceum looks poised to become a very exciting theatre indeed.
· Until December 21. Box office: 0141-429 0022.
