[title]
John Fowles’s 1963 novel ‘The Collector’ is one of those stories that feels gift-wrapped for theatre directors. The story of a socially inept butterfly collector who kidnaps and imprisons the (human) object of his affections, it’s an easily stageable two-hander with an intriguing central relationship that has the potential to be played out in any number of ways.
Here, it’s interpreted with very little in the way of peril or menace – drippy, over-apologetic Frederick (‘Game of Thrones’ regular Daniel Portman) never feels in control of confident, plummy Miranda (‘Skins’ star Lily Loveless, in her stage debut). I mean, hurrah for feminism and all that, but the imbalance was such that I couldn’t help but keep wondering why she didn’t just knee her mild-mannered captor in the balls and scarper.
My only assumption is that adaptor Mark Healey has pitched the show as some sort of relationship parable – about how all couples (especially those in London, where cohabitation is often a financial necessity) eventually find themselves stuck with an oppressive companion. A neat idea, if so, but it doesn’t translate to compelling theatre, meaning that not long after the interval, I too was praying for release.