Review: The Goat, or Who Is Sylvia?

Uniquely mesmerising: an apt way to describe Damian Lewis’ latest onstage appearance in The Goat, or Who is Sylvia? The play, written by Edward Albee, has one of the strangest plots of any play that has graced the West End and focuses on the nuances of a marriage when faced with an unthinkable (and seemingly unassailable) challenge.

The play opens with a happy, intelligent and witty conversation between a married couple: Martin (Damian Lewis) and Stevie (Sophie Okonedo). They discuss everything from Latin plurals, to Martin’s fading memory, all the way to mixing up metaphors and, right from the outset, the glint of intellect is palpable is both of these characters’ eyes, with their deep love equally as evident as their genius. And thus, the play is poised, the audience unaware of the imminent revelation that will undercut this joyful and amorous atmosphere.

The sinister turn begins as Stevie leaves the stage, nonchalantly joking about an affair Martin may be having with another woman. It’s still all jokes and smiles however, despite Martin’s body language beginning to betray him. As she exits, he reveals (under visible duress) that he is having an affair with a goat, to which she hysterically laughs before kissing him goodbye. A joke for her, but thanks to Lewis’ acting niceties, there is clearly more than meets the eye to this ‘joke’.

Ross’ (Martin’s best friend) entrance paves the way for the detailed revelation about Martin’s newfound love for a goat, whom (a favoured grammatical correction of Martin) he has named Sylvia. “She just looked at me with those eyes, those dark eyes”, he recounts, painfully emotional and darkly ludicrous as he tells his tale. Martin’s reaction is tragically comical and provokes rapturous laughter as he bluntly states exactly what Martin is doing with his life: “you’re f***ing a goat mate, you’re a goat-f***er”. Martin’s protective instinct of his goat-lover is equally hilarious, repeatedly calling the goat “she” rather than “it” and physically demonstrating the moment they first “nuzzled” much to Ross’ bemusement.

As the play progresses to a change of scene, it transpires that Robert has written these details in a long (overly flowery) letter to Stevie, unable to keep this secret from her as a friend. This provokes the crux of the play, the exploration and discussion of this bestial affair between Stevie, Martin, and also their son Billy. Emotions explode across the stage and the audience is caught in an uncomfortable, sentimental limbo. On the one hand, you’ll find yourself crying with laughter as Martin recounts his experiences at his AA-esque self-help group during which members tell tales of their experiences with geese, dogs and even pigs, whilst on the other you’ll feel physical heartbreak at the profound and unfathomably pejorative effect this whole fiasco will have on their marriage. Okonedo is superb, balancing her character ingeniously between disbelief, anger, heart-wrenching sadness and incomprehension. Lewis is equally sensational: his constant grammatical quips (Martin has a profound love for the English language) consistently undercut the consequently-disjointed dramatic tension whilst his genuine love for this goat, his confusion at why/how it even came about, and his distress at the effect this has on both his wife and his son are all interpreted with brilliant nuance and skill.

As the play comes to a fierce climax on a dimming stage, the audience is left baffled, upset, smiling but also close to tears. Never have we experienced such a strange spectrum of emotions in one performance, this is a fantastic production and one not to be missed. It’s on at the Theatre Royal Haymarket until 16^th June, get yourselves down there.