Politics is thankless drudgery that attracts only second-raters. Britain precariously survives as a clearing house for international capital. Such are some of the ideas that reverberate through Shaw's The Apple Cart; which, given that it was written in 1929 and is set in the future, proves that Shaw was nothing if not prophetic.
But, as Peter Hall's rare and excellent revival shows, Shaw's extravaganza endures through its use of Mozartian musicality and liberating wit to express its uncannily accurate vision. Outwardly the play offers a conflict between a squabbling cabinet, led by an hysterical Scot, and the slippery King Magnus, reluctant to be reduced to a mere constitutional puppet. But, though the play pits parliamentary democracy against presumptive monarchy, its real joke is that true power lies elsewhere. What Shaw foresaw was a world in which giant corporations would become bigger than governments, and American cultural colonialism would dominate the globe.
Ideas alone, however, don't make plays: it is Shaw's gaiety and gusto, as well as his ability to write good parts for actors, that makes the play worth reviving. Charles Edwards invests King Magnus with just the right mix of comic buoyancy and specific gravity. Although looking like a wing-collared Ramsay MacDonald, James Laurenson's profoundly flustered prime minister also suggests more recent examples. And the extraordinary interlude in which the king cavorts with his mistress, Orinthia, is lent a heady exuberance by the presence of Janie Dee, who turns intellectual argument into sexual foreplay. Detractors may argue Shaw's play is all talk; but that seems a pointless objection to a dramatist who can make ideas dance.
Besides this, David Storey's Home, written in 1970, seems like a piece of exquisite chamber music: a sombrely funny study of old age, solitude and the defences people erect against mental disintegration. But Stephen Unwin's revival both confirms its durability and casts it intriguingly against type. Stephen Moore, all dandyish elegance, takes the part originally played by Ralph Richardson; David Calder, seemingly more earthbound, inhabits John Gielgud's role. Both are admirable in their precarious dignity. Unwin's production also gives real weight to their temporary female consorts. Nichola McAuliffe, aggressive and sexually suspicious, and Lesley Joseph, desperate for emotional contact, superbly remind us that the institutionalised old have their needs and desires. Storey's structure, like Shaw's, may be musical, but his play still works because it has the resonant simplicity of a Wordsworthian lyrical ballad.