Jez Butterworth's 'The Winterling' @ the Royal Court

A bracing evening at The Royal Court last night. Jez Butterworth's 'The Winterling' is a high energy play with a thrill to the writing. Great rhythm to the language, and magnificent solo runs for each of the actors. Four males and a woman on the edge of Dartmoor, the menace of urban and rural life packed in a single room, it's no comedy but gusts of laughter still burst round the audience. What a relief. It's often sad seeing the effort playgoers go to, their yearning to have a good time so active they scape up laughs at the vaguest hint of humour. Here great lines had a spot on cast and direction from Ian Rickson. New and especially fine for me was Daniel Mays as Patsy, his body gawky yet electric, real vibrant humour in the playing.
The second half, despite the gutsy new character of Sally Hawkins, was slacker. 'One Year Later' in lights at the beginning perhaps spelled trouble - that same reverse chronology, catching up with itself in a third act, spoiled the good start of 'Southwark Fair' recently. Has any playwright worked this trick well? Is it always a sign of a play not knowing where it's going? We came to the end and there was the longest silence I've heard at the close of a play. No-one was sure it had ended. Only when the stage lights came on and the actors stood in a line did we know to applaud. Then the auidence was whooping (friends in?).
Jez Butterworth (pictured) is old enough, praise be. The energy of his language is raw yet polished, and while violence soaks the atmosphere it doesn't soak the floor - the only blood is a runny nose. So many young male playwrights (maybe women too, Sarah Kane?) get off on violence - I guess I did too - but you grow out of it.
A playwright not to be jealous of - his play deserved all the care, time, sweat and expertise lavished on it. Listen for the pulse of Stephen Warbeck's music too. Perfect.