Julian Sands in a Celebration of Harold Pinter

When Harold Pinter died in late 2008, he left a massive hole in the fabric of Britain's literary and theatrical landscape. However, this collection of Pinter's poetry, performed by his friend Julian Sands, fails to properly do justice to the vibrancy and importance of the great playwright's life.

Unfortunately, this Celebration of Harold Pinter tends more towards a sober, stony-faced reading of his poetry than anything warmer or more personal. Sands is a likeable and passionate stage presence, and when he does recount anecdotes from Pinter's life, the production really does come alive, but these moments are too few and far between. Perhaps a consequence of a lack of time spent putting it together, this show isn't so much theatre as a poetry reading. It lacks anything of the vibrancy so strongly associated with Pinter's work that you have to question why it is being performed on stage and not in a lecture hall.

Much has been made of John Malkovich's role in directing this production, not least his affable participation in publicising and flyering for the show. Yet there is very little to be seen in terms of results. Sands hovers at the edge of the stage, reading from a book. And that's all. It is a set-up so simple a child could direct it. Were one a conspiracy theorist, one might suggest attaching Malkovich's name to the production was little more than a ploy to drum up interest and get people talking. Certainly, none of the chatter has been about the production itself.