“Reykjavik” at Hampstead Theatre
Neil Dowden in North London
28 October 2024
Richard Bean’s atmospheric new play Reykjavik about distant-water trawlermen from his hometown of Hull is a companion piece to his 2003 play Under the Whaleback. But while the earlier work is set on board trawlers in three different time periods, Reykjavik is enacted on land as it follows the impact of a fatal capsizing on other people as well as fishermen during February 1976. This is at the end of the third “Cod War” when Britain and Iceland were in conflict over fishing rights in the North Atlantic. And it’s when the Icelandic parliament voted to extend their nation’s own fishing limits to 200 nautical miles, thereby starting the terminal decline of this centuries-old British industry – for which Reykjavik is an elegy.
Photo credit: Mark Douet.
This is very much a play of two halves. Despite the title, the first half takes place in Hull, in the imposing dockside offices of Claxton Line as the boss Donald Claxton conducts his business, speaking to skippers via Wick Radio. In particular, he has to deal with the fallout of the sinking of the sidewinder Graham Greene when 15 of the crew drowned. He gets advice from his retired father William about how to do the “widows’ walk” where he is expected to visit on foot the families of all the deceased fishermen to offer them condolences as well as some money. William tells him to drink any tea that is offered to him, but “don’t ever take a piss in the house of a woman you’ve made a widow”.
Donald is also visited by Ricky Toov, a young skipper whom he sacks for incompetence (but it’s personal too as Ricky slept with his estranged wife); Lizzie Jopling who is bitterly disappointed that her abusive husband Jack has survived the sinking; and Reverend Wallace Polkinghorne, a recently arrived hippyish vicar who wants to discuss the memorial. Though there is some humour, the overall tone is one of sober realism.
This all changes in the longer second half set in a dowdy Reykjavik hotel bar where Caxton has gone to bring the motley-dressed survivors home. Jack is violently angry towards him as he grieves the loss of a close friend as well as the imminent loss of a finger. The bosun Baggie is waiting to hear from his wife about the birth of their fifth child. The naïvely romantic Snacker – who had previously asked out Claxton’s secretary Charlotte – tries to chat up the unimpressed hotel manager Einhildur. And the Irish Quayle – who left the Graham Greene just before it sank because he claims he foresaw the disaster – turns up with a coffin containing the fifth survivor who has now suddenly died in mysterious circumstances.
John Hollingworth and Laura Elsworthy.
Photo credit: Mark Douet.
The mood turns increasingly wild and even supernatural as – with the windows buffeted by a storm and the alcohol flowing inside – each person in turn proceeds to tell a ghost story amidst general banter. The final anecdote is Caxton’s description of his “widows’ walk” which ends in an unexpectedly disturbing way.
With Caxton the only character present in each act – though others are cross-referenced – it almost feels as if we have entered a different play in the second half, with Caxton’s brief, tense encounters with others replaced by one group of people exchanging jokes, insults, songs, memories, and stories which sometimes veer towards monologues. The Hull section is much more tightly written, building up real suspense ahead of the walk, with intriguing inter-generational conflict between the Cambridge English graduate Claxton and his former fisherman father, and a potential romance between Claxton and the aspiring singer Lizzie cut off by the change in scene. The Reykjavik section – albeit entertaining enough and often very funny – seems baggy and drawn-out in comparison. The far-fetched yarns – or fishy tales – strain at a folk mythology à la Conor McPherson’s The Weir that doesn’t entirely convince.
Where Bean does succeed is in the poignant evocation of a working culture in ports like Hull and Grimsby that is no more – in a similar way to the demise of coal-mining communities and steel towns. Although there are mentions of the Cod Wars and indeed the 1975 referendum which confirmed the UK’s membership of the European Economic Community, the play is much more about the dangers involved in fishing in arctic waters and the boisterous camaraderie of those whose lives depend on each other. It also touches on the exploitation of capitalism and class divisions, with a limited feminine perspective into a very male world.
The play is given an engaging production by Emily Burns (who also directed Bean’s comedy Jack Absolute Flies Again at the National Theatre in 2022). Though the two disparate halves are not reconciled, the appearance of a ghostly figure outside the dark office window at the end of the first act does point towards the otherworldly feeling of the second act. Anna Reid’s design shifts in the interval from a grand warehouse setting to a 1970s-style beige hotel reception. Oliver Fenwick’s flickering lighting and Christopher Shutt’s blustery sound, underscored by Grant Olding turbulent music, add much to the spooky ambience.
John Hollingworth reveals the sensitivity lying beneath the hard-nosed, taciturn exterior of Donald Claxton, who pays a penance for his guilt. This contrasts with the unemotional pragmatism of his father William, played by Paul Hickey who doubles well as the doom-mongering showman Quayle. Matthew Durkan also shows his virtuosity in the sharply differing roles of the compassionate Polkinghorne and the aggressive Jack. Adam Hugill skilfully differentiates self-assured ladies’ man Ricky Toov from awkward romantic Snacker, while Matt Sutton is the dull but decent family man Baggie. Sophie Cox plays both the naïve Charlotte and amusingly grumpy Einhildur. And Laura Elsworthy is the fish-filleting Lizzie who dreams of being Patsy Cline.
