The Half

'The half’ is the time before a performance by which all actors must be present in the theatre. As the term suggests, it is typically half an hour, just long enough for an actor to steady themselves, finalise their lines, or, if they choose, implode in a mist of boozy self-loathing.

No prizes for guessing how Guy Masterson’s aging soak passes the 30 minutes before the opening night of his first acting gig in 15 years, Hamlet Uncut: the One Man Show, a self-directed four and a half hour epic into which he has sunk all his meagre savings.

"Every minute counts," he tells himself, but as the clock ticks down towards the curtain call, all his demons emerge in the half-light of his dressing room. Dreams of playing King Lear in the West End ("the veteran’s Everest") and earning a knighthood evaporate into a whiskey-induced stupor, punctuated by tirades against his estranged wife and his own lack of self-restraint.

There are shades of Richard E Grant’s Withnail at 50 in Guy Masterson’s RADA-trained ham, and echoes of Bruce Robinson’s screenplay in Richard Dormer’s dark, mordant script. But for a meta-play—a one-man play about a play—to really work it needs to be fresh. Too often the material feels predictable and clichéd (Hamlet; the drunken actor; the wrecked marriage).

There are some well-realised comic moments—and Masterson revels in the role—but not quite enough to raise The Half to something a bit fuller.