Writer: Edward Albee
Director: Marianne Elliott
The vast amphitheatre of @sohoplace could not be a better setting for the gladiatorial Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? Once, legions would have gathered in ringed circles to see Christians being savaged by lions, but until 19 December audiences can relish this spectacle of marital discord which, since 1962 and through constant revivals, has rewarded audiences with the domestic fight of a lifetime.
Acting Titan, Gillian Anderson gives an electrifying performance as Martha, the unfulfilled professor’s wife and daughter of the faculty president. A spiky, wise-cracking, boozing broad, she channels Joe Pesci in Capri pants, and no one would wish to be on the wrong side of her razor-sharp tongue. Pity poor George, her mild-mannered, long-suffering history professor spouse, calmly embodied by Billy Crudup. He’s the yin to her yang, but what he lacks in physical strength or drive, he makes up for with devious strategy.
When Martha announces she’s invited the new biology professor, Nick and his wife, Honey, back for drinks late one night after a faculty party, the scene is set for an evening of inebriation, power play, ritual humiliation and verbal acid. Tumbler after tumbler of liqueur and ice-cubes, see inhibitions melt away, secrets disclosed, insecurities revealed, and desires amplified. Martha, a seductress and a vamp, attempts to seduce the young professor. George is physically attracted to his pretty, blonde wife, “slim-hipped” Honey, but is more interested in her family money. Both men are revealed as opportunists, strategic spouses.
You might think this would lead to an evening of tedious swinging, but what unfolds is more interesting and sustains every minute of the three-and-a-half-hour performance (with an interval). All kinds of dynamics unfurl across the three acts: the washed-up professor whose lack of success disappoints his wife is pitted against the thrusting new academic; the scientist versus the historian. The ageing woman who’s been around the block a few times sizes up her younger, inexperienced contemporary. Both are childless, and this is significant as the plot unfolds. Honey, a repressed, well-behaved wife, becomes drunk and excited by the possibility of violent fights while Martha becomes bolder and more monstrous with withering put-downs and expletives squarely aimed at her emasculated husband.
The acting in this production is superb: Phoebe Horn as naive, guileless Honey is hilarious—a joy to watch with many layers to her performance—and Josh Dylan as clean-cut Nick is a natural game player, ascending the greasy pole. His mood shifts from accommodating politeness to shock and, ultimately, boorish masculinity as he fantasises about mounting the ‘president’s daughter’ (Martha).
Despite living in a tasteful apartment, full of mid-century modern furnishings, endless alcohol, jazz and books – beautifully designed on a circular revolving stage by Miriam Buether – a deep-seated unhappiness lives here. Much of what we see is illusory: constructed and performed while much of the activity we witness is escapism and displacement.
But why are Martha and George, two people who love each other, so bitterly unhappy? When the denouement comes, it’s a massive relief: calm after the storm, clarity after confusion, vulnerability after bravado, and unity after discord. Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? is stylish, acerbic and dramatic; an entertaining, emotional rollercoaster delivered by a brilliant cast. This is not to be missed.
Runs until 19 December 2026
