In Patrick Marmion’s play, radical
psychiatrist R.D. Laing faces a dual crisis. Externally, it
involves the imminent dissolution of his Kingsley Hall community where
the mentally ill could have free behavioural rein and in effect treat
themselves by letting it all out. Inwardly, Laing also confronts the
implications of this for his general philosophy that what is called
mental illness is in fact a coping mechanism amid a disordered society.
It being the fag-end of the ’60s, this set-to occurs through the medium
of an almighty acid trip, which in part sends him to 2015 to argue with
an alternative Laing who has seen the error of his ways. (The real
Laing remained an alternative figure until his death in 1989.)
Marmion knows his theatre (he is the junior drama critic of the
Daily Mail), and knows what he
wants here. The trouble is that he goes for it too hard. Most fatally,
the Ronnie Laing of the play isn’t really divided at all. The RDL of
2015 may offer the tripping Ronnie a Mephistophelean deal of wealth and
continuing prominence if he recants, but it is plain that the real
temptation is that of staying true to his unorthodox views. Marmion
presents Laing with a number of choruses who egg him on in
cod-Shakespearean which is overdone even by its own deliberately
overdone standards. The most charitable interpretation the piece allows
is that Laing is dangerously naïve; other figures, including colleagues
who leave the community at the end of the play, incline more towards
his being – as his future self puts it – a narcissistic sociopath.
Not even a characteristically dedicated performance from the excellent
Alan Cox (in his best Bill Paterson accent) can instil the necessary
credibility into Laing the maverick to make this a real dramatic
debate. Nor, in Michael Kingsbury’s production, can the contrast with
the palpably lesser lights around him; one might expect the supporting
performances to be in a different league, but one or two of the five
here are virtually in a different sport altogether. It feels as if
Marmion has started from his conclusion and worked backwards, but has
been unable plausibly to pretend that he might ever have ended up
anywhere else.
Written for the Financial
Times.