Independent on Sunday, 24 April 1994, by Irving Wardle ----------------------------------------------------------- The horror of Patrick Hamilton's 1929 thriller, *Rope*, is one peculiar to this century: namely the discovery that culture and higher education may enhance the human capacity for cruelty. Had Hamilton's two undergraduate murderers not had the advantage of reading Nietzsche, along with enjoying Beethoven on the gramophone, then their friend Ronald would not be lying dead in a chest, as proof of their superior powers of daring. It is a tricky play. The plot suggests a piece of intellectual baiting for the philistine public; but, as usual with Hamilton, a pop outline contains an elitist texture--and it is the poet Rupert, decadent aesthete *par excellence*, who emerges as the avenging instrument of common moral outrage. In Keith Baxter's fine production the implied homosexual pact between the two killers is made fully explicit; pointedly showing that, while the lordly Brandon (Tristan Gemmill) organises the crime, it is the jittery Granillo (James Buller) who takes the lead in their erotic strangulation games. It also strengthens their supposed bond with Rupert (Anthony Head) as a possible co- conspirator to see him bestowing fond kisses on his hosts at the macabre party. With no slackening of tension, the production is dense with wider associations as jazz-age and public-school manners mingle with fascist dandyism in the dance round the coffin. Head plays the limping Rupert as a sweet-faced boy who turns even the most waspish lines into a caress. You can believe in him as a poet: he can make Hamilton sound like T S Eliot. More to the point, his reversal from apathetic melancholy into ferocious action, reveals the character as one of Hamlet's most notable descendants. ----------------------------------------------------------- Bentley's Bedlam http://www.BetsyDa.com/bedlam.html This website is for information and entertainment purposes only and is not intended to infringe on copyrights held by others.