Strange Interlude, by Eugene O'Neil, performed at the National Theatre

Many people have heard of Strange Interlude in reference to its length - five hours plus. But, in Simon Godwin's revival at the National Theatre’s Lyttelton, the play is condensed into a neat three hours and fifteen minutes. Partly due to its of its extensive length, the play has not been revived in England for nearly thirty years but despite this maintains a firm standing in the canon of 20^th Century American drama.

Written in 1923, the Strange Interlude acquired a name for tackling distasteful issues. Promiscuity, abortion and adultery are all at the forefront of the play’s subject matter, which unsurprisingly led it to being banned in many American cities after its first production in 1928.

Indeed, less shocking to a new audience, Strange Interlude can now be appreciated as an immensely funny commentary on protagonists’ Nina Leeds (Anne-Marie Duff) three male admirers: Charles Marlesdon (Chares Edwards), Sam Evans (Jason Watkins) and Edmnd Darrell (Darren Pettie).  The play’s writer, Eugene O’Neil utilizes a clever combination of aside soliloquys and character-to-character interaction, as a result, Strange Interlude reveals all the thoughts that we wish to voice, but social conditioning prevents us from saying aloud.

This combination sheds comic light on a few somewhat very serious issues. When Nina faces aborting her baby because of a superstition that madness runs in the father’s family, we cannot help but feel what we are dealing with is treading on very serious ground. The use of comic asides can at times feel out of place, and there is an uncertainty as to which tone is being taken. Nonetheless, the asides also allow for moments of great revelation, and act as interior monologues as Nina struggles to contemplate the way her life is turning.

Nearly a century on from being composed, these soliloquys keep the play fresh. There is a feeling that without them the plays’ plot faces danger of becoming somewhat unrecognizable. Early on in the first half of the play, Nina is forced to marry a man she does not love as her doctor believes that making a husband happy will in turn make Nina happy: medical advice difficult to identify with in 2013. In the face of this challenge, the National Theatre brilliantly revitalizes a script that is at risk of becoming dull and, let’s face it, dragging on a bit.

In defiance of dullness, the plays designer Soutra Gilmour cleverly creates settings that evolve with Nina as we travel twenty-five years through her life. In the opening scene, the site of Nina’s father’s cramped and dark 1900s study feels restricted compared to the glorious, spacious New York apartments Nina later inhabits after his death, symbolically marking her growth as an individual. With such a dated script to work with, these impressive and delightful touches are necessary.

Indeed, just as necessary is the portrayal of Nina, a character who is both immensely vulnerable and manipulative shrew. Anne-Marie Duff plays both these sides ingeniously, never allowing her audience to rest on one of these interpretations for a substantial length of time. Likewise, the interactions between long-term enemies Marlesdon and Darrell keep the audience on their toes with the constant threat of an explosive disagreement.

All in all, the challenges of reviving a play that promised shock and disbelief to its initial audience are met defiantly in by Godwin. In its best moments the play is simply hilarious, in its weakest, a jumble of confused emotions and genres. But do not let this put you off; the challenge of revitalizing Strange Interlude makes the National Theatre’s production even more rewarding and enjoyable. The production does not shy away from these challenges but shakes their hand and sits them down to feast on a new audience, bringing with them new laughs and new ideas, and allowing us to appreciate a piece of theatre that we ought not to wait another thirty years to see again!