First performed at the Hampstead Theatre, London,
in August 1976, this two act play is another of Frayn’s comedies. However, I’m
at a loss to know for certain what it’s really about.
Set in Cuba (though the stage is a blank arena
with stepped surfaces, chairs and a back-projection screen to receive the
images of the sky that give the play its name) the action revolves around a
trio of writers who are there to report on the state of the island a short time
after Castro’s takeover. As a teenager during the time of the Cuba Crisis, when
we held our collective breath as Kruschev and Kennedy postured over the issue
of nuclear missiles sited on the island, Cuba holds a resonance unlikely to
echo through the blood of the modern reader.
There’s a love story in here, though it may be
that simple lust is the driver, in spite of the protestations of the
protagonists. There are cultural misunderstandings, cynicism on an epic scale,
subtle, and not so subtle, political asides, and, of course, humour. The go-getting
American, the lady novelist and the reporter from the UK are stereotypical yet
manage to convey some individuality. The tired diplomat-cum-guide-cum-minder is
just that, but hovers between his sense of duty and the lust he develops for
the lady novelist. The driver is a rogue, philanderer and wide-boy with an
obvious eye for the ladies and the only male in the cast who appears immune to
the charms of the novelist.
So, an interesting cast with an intriguing span of
relationships. We follow them on their odd tour of the island, a typical itinerary
for a communist regime, ensuring these foreigners see all the technical and
commercial developments but are excluded from intercourse with the actual
people wherever possible. There is the standard misunderstanding, deliberate or
otherwise, between the eventual would-be lovers. There is the expected friction
between the American and British writers. There is the unconscious
condescension shown by the writers for their guardian and driver. But, in the
hands of this master, the sometimes spare dialogue is made to say so much more
than the mere words.
I imagine the sparse setting would enhance the
dialogue, which is what the play is all about, removing visual distractions so
that all attention is given to the characters as they set about their tasks of misinformation, professional and personal
rivalry, seduction and petty jealousy.
The text made me laugh where I was expected to
find humour. It made me react emotionally to the various scenes of conflict,
co-operation, misunderstanding and attempted sexual conquest. But I was left
with an ending that seemed unfinished and flat. I didn’t expect an explosion,
merely something that wound up at least something of the action that had
preceded it, rather than the rather vague conclusion that the experience had
changed nothing.
Would I go to see the play performed? I wouldn’t
queue, but if it were easy to attend, I think I’d give it a try. Make of that
what you will.
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