Working with Pinter

Last week the Oxford Literary Festival screened BBC Arena’s recording of the National Theatre Tribute to Harold Pinter. Towards the end of the film Colin Firth gives Aston’s speech from The Caretaker. Hunkered down in a centre-stage armchair, Aston recalls being forcibly electrocuted by doctors in a mental institution. His speech is clear but halting, partly from the effort of joining his broken thoughts together, partly from remembering terrible events.

The lines are virtually uninflected. No self-pity. No sudden movements. No discernible ‘acting’. The power of the speech lies in its economy. The tension between what is and is not said vibrates with a seismic emotional power that never breaks the surface of Aston’s immense dignity.

It was recently rumoured that Firth might soon appear in a London production of a Pinter play. So far this has proved untrue, which is a pity, because he is a Pinter actor of the highest class.