Venue: Alexandra Palace
Dates: Until August 28 August
OUR VERDICT:
The timing is perfect for this production amidst the lofty interior of the newly-renovated Alexandra Palace, itself once the site of a POW camp in the First World War.
Nearly eighty years ago, in 1943, an intrepid group of Allied POWs built three tunnels at notorious camp Stalag Luft III and gave them the codenames Tom, Dick and Harry. 76 men eventually escaped on a moonless, cold night in March 1944, but sadly only three would make it to complete safety.
It’s a magnificently compelling, true-life tale that formed the foundation of the classic 1963 film starring Steve McQueen but the authors have eschewed books and film and turned instead to the National Archives to construct their play, drawing on material that was classified until recent years.
Effervescently staged in the round with a superb cast, the story of how these men devised and implemented their audacious plan is brought vividly to life. The audience used as extra characters like a lookout for German guards or a manufacturer of some of the essential items the men need to aid escape.
The authors themselves play two of the cast, one doubling ingeniously as both genial ‘Wings’, a British POW and the surprisingly civilised German Commandant of the camp.
All the cast are persuasive, some particularly effective such as Dominic Thorburn’s Roger Ballard, the officer in charge of the escape attempt, who knows that if he fails in his mission, there will be no clemency.
Andrius Gaucas is a delightfully whimsical former tailor now employed trying to fashion garments for the escapees out of the most unlikely materials: caps from gramophone records, uniforms from blankets and suchlike.
Men used bed planks to prop up the tunnel, and dried milk tins facilitated the use of oxygen, the sheer ingenuity on display from the men is breath-taking and humbling, the RAF motto ‘per ardua ad astra’ (through adversity to the stars) uniting them all, irrespective of background or nationality.
The staging is simple yet effective, with floor projections giving a sense of time and place and a booming narrator filling in background info for the men involved. The day-to-day nature of the camp is well conveyed, the men’s resourcefulness and humour triumphing over the dispiriting conditions and relentless scrutiny of the German guards, here represented by the almost comically watchful Giesler and the more amiable, shambolic Fritz ( a very convincing Perry Moore.)
The actual escape is staged just right, the sense of claustrophobia and nascent hope palpable as each man shifts along a tunnel and helps his companions to safety. This camaraderie, the men’s tremendous shared bond in the face of great danger, is beautifully represented by the finale, where we learn the POW’s (often sad) fate and see them reunited, the spirit of their enterprise dwarfing all else.
It’s a cracking piece of theatre, exciting and timeless and one which should speak to all generations.