4 stars out of 5
Review: JULES AND JIM, Jermyn Street Theatre
An emotionally engaging dissection of platonic love and polyamory.
Henri-Pierre Roché’s semi-autobiographical novel Jules and Jim is probably more famous for its Nouvelle Vague silver screen iteration by François Truffaut. Spanning the three decades that surround the Great War, it explores the very definition of love in the context of what essentially becomes a polyamorous household run by Kath’s obsessive passions.
Jules and Jim, respectively a German Jew and a Frenchman, are best friends leading a bohemian life in Paris. They chase women, fall for them and move on unattached. Jim gives Jules lessons in romance while Jules’s unashamed intellectualism entertains Jim but generally bores their dates. Then, one day, Jules meets Kath and makes Jim promise not to pursue her. What ensues is a tribute to platonic soulmates and friendship.
Playwright Timberlake Wertenbaker‘s adaptation of the romantic drama is modern and direct; it slips into poetic prose that moulds into artful storytelling in gorgeous strokes. While it can be slightly overdone at times, it comfortably shapeshifts from dialogue to narration, from audience addresses to epistolary speeches. The text is permeated by effortless, slender humour that takes the subject in stride and beautifully delivers the ménage à trois as the only natural evolution of the trio’s relationships. It’s an exquisite choice. Jules and Jim is Stella Powell-Jones‘s first production since taking over the artistic direction of Jermyn Street Theatre, and it certainly sets the mood for what could be.
Alex Mugnaioni and Samuel Collings take on Jim and Jules with tact and flair. Where Collings is genially pretentious in a calm and collected portrayal, Mugnaioni gives a profoundly introspective performance populated by intense stares. His furrowed brow lights up with furious passion when faced with Kath’s frivolous game of affection. Patricia Allison joins them as the woman. A firecracker in theory, Allison’s choices are rather rigid compared to the smooth physicality of her male counterparts. She appears to suddenly become very aware that she owns hands after forgetting what to do with them. All in all, this is a negligible and easily fixed issue that dissolves in a strong and stubborn delivery.
The triangle possesses a vivid chemistry that becomes unignorable sexual tension, with Jules and Jim endlessly toeing the line of homosexual subtext. Time virtually stops in Powell-Jones’s vision when Jim is finally allowed to reveal his feelings for Kath. Chris McDonnell’s lights warm up and Holly Khan’s soft piano plays as they circle one another while Jules watches them with benevolence. They go on to hurt each other relentlessly, but they also love unconditionally. They are consumed by their emotions, expectations, and their jealous acceptance of Kath’s extra-polyamory exploits. They find beauty in her cruelty. Jules and Jim offers a complicated analysis of the idiosyncratic aspects of passion.
It presents characters who are introduced as equals, an element that Isabella Van Braeckel delivers by having Allison change into men’s trousers when she meets the two friends. The hot and cold push and pull of their dynamic could have turned into the sole focus of the play, but it surprisingly isn’t so. There’s a deeper dissection of the stability generated by platonic affection that almost suggests it as the only way to prevent one’s heart from being hurt. Ultimately, Jim and Jules’ is the real love story. It evolves on a cream coloured design stained by Van Braeckel with flowing blue paint trails, a visual representation of the fluidity that permeates the piece. A French window conceals an aquatic feature that’s a cool addition to an otherwise static set.
All in all, the production balances between thematic curiosity and heartfelt drama. It’s careful and delicate in its arc and opens up an interesting reflection on genuine friendship and how male bonds develop in time when they are wholly untarnished by any competition or envy. Powell-Jones starts to deviate from Jermyn Street’s rather traditional and hardly daring takes, introducing what could become a revolutionary artistic tenure for the theatre. We look forward to her journey.