Private Lives review – Noël Coward’s queasy merry-go-round of desire and spite

In director Blanche McIntyre’s take on Private Lives, love is a dizzying thing. Staged in-the-round, Noël Coward’s vicious comedy of desire and spite is spun around like the records its sparring lovers play on the gramophone. From the moment that acrimonious exes Amanda and Elyot collide on their honeymoons, the revolve starts to turn, gradually accelerating to the point of nausea.

This queasy effect is apt for Coward’s play, which slowly peels back the ugliness of its central couple’s destructive bond. Opening in the luxurious surroundings of a French holiday resort – rendered in sleek, monochrome minimalism by designer Dick Bird – the first act is all pre-dinner cocktails and witty dialogue. The reunited Amanda and Elyot quickly ditch their respective new spouses, pompous Victor and vapid Sibyl, and escape to Paris. But in Amanda’s cluttered apartment, surrounded by booze and half-eaten plates of food, the rekindled romance starts to sour.

Much in this drama rides on the protagonists. Here, both lovers are pleasingly Coward-esque: Jill Halfpenny’s acidly poised Amanda is matched by the dry, detached humour of Steve John Shepherd’s Elyot. They deliver the script’s assortment of bons mots with ease, sharing a visible delight in withering put-downs. Yet, in the extremity of the second act it feels as though something is held back, both in moments of lust and violence. The stage may be spinning out of control, but there’s a hint of restraint about the performances that blunts the vicious climax.

Acidly poised … Jill Halfpenny in Privates Lives. Photograph: Johan Persson

As their abandoned other halves, Daniel Millar’s Victor is the picture of contented self-importance – a man proud of his own ordinariness – while Shazia Nicholls suggests a hidden canniness beneath Sibyl’s grating hysterics. They hold their own against the sparkle of their counterparts, especially when returning to disrupt the poisonous love nest. There’s also an enjoyable turn from Sara Lessore as Parisian maid Louise, underlining the privileged caprices of her employers.

And that’s how Amanda and Elyot’s relationship often feels in this production, despite the giddily spinning stage: a capricious game between sophisticated players, rather than a dangerous, irresistible passion.