Churchill in Moscow, Orange Tree Theatre review - thought-provoking language and power games

Playwrights who work for decades often acquire a moniker. In the case of Howard Brenton, who began his career as a left-winger in the turbulent 1970s, the name is The History Man. Over the past decade, or so, he has written brilliantly about historical figures such as, among others, Anne Boleyn, Charles I, Lawrence of Arabia – and many more.

Now it’s the turn of Winston Churchill and Joseph Stalin, two titans of the allied side in the second world war. Churchill in Moscow reunites Brenton with Tom Littler, the successful artistic director of the Orange Tree Theatre in their sixth collaboration, with an excellent cast headed by Roger Allam as the British PM, surely something of a coup for this small Off-West End venue.

It’s 12 August 1942, and we are in a room in Stalin’s apartment in the Kremlin. The first meeting between Churchill (upper-class and a lifelong anti-Communist) and Stalin (peasant stock and Soviet dictator) is about to begin and there is tension in the air. Following Hitler’s attack on Russia the previous year, these old enemies are now uneasy allies, suspicious and a bit afraid. The war is not going well: Hitler’s army is approaching the suburbs of Stalingrad and victory at El Alamein in Egypt is still a couple of months away. Much needed military supply convoys to Russia from America, which has entered the war in December 1941 following the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbour, are getting sunk by U boats.

Apart from mutual distrust, the conflict between the two leaders revolves around Stalin’s demand that Britain and America open up a second front by invading Nazi-occupied France, thereby relieving some of the pressure on Russia. This, argues Churchill, is impossible because there are not yet enough American troops in Britain. Instead, he offers to open up a second front with an Allied attack on Mussolini’s Italy, the “soft underbelly” of fascist Europe. But both men know that this can’t happen until the following year. In the meantime, Stalin suspects that Churchill will reach a peace treaty with Hitler, while the British Prime Minister reminds him of Nazi-Soviet pact of 1939, which allowed both powers to carve up Poland at the start of the war. The play’s plot shows how at first Churchill and Stalin, who are mirror opposites, reach an accord, then quarrel, then reconcile.
Brenton complicates this simple story by introducing more mirror opposites: Molotov, Soviet Foreign Commissar, and Archie Clark Kerr, Britain’s Ambassador to Moscow. Their interactions, especially during the drunken party scene, add depth to the discussions between their masters, but the most entertaining addition is Brenton’s use of two fictional translators, RAF Lieutenant Sally Powell and Red Army Lieutenant Olga Dovzhenko, who together have a female view of the menfolk. There’s one scene in which the two women find much common ground in their work, and this humanises the story of the summit. Another addition is that of Svetlana, Stalin’s 16-year-old daughter, who turns out to be a fan of Dickens’s David Copperfield, which she reads in English.

Much of the comedy of the evening comes from language games, where Brenton has Stalin and Churchill speak in their own languages, which comes across as gibberish to the other man, requiring the intervention of the translators. This device is quickly abandoned, but the focus on language remains. The translation of slang expressions, and expletives, is consciously comic, as are the occasional misunderstandings. There is also an impressively intelligent use of mirroring: in one scene, both Molotov and Archie instruct the translators to soften the message and avoid a breakdown in the talks.

Perhaps the sharpest instance of Brenton’s mirror effect is when Churchill reminds Stalin of the Soviet state’s murder of the Kulaks and mass starvation, only to be lectured on the British atrocities in India. Both leaders represent Empires built on blood, both feel the weight of history on their shoulders, conscious both of their supreme power and of their powerlessness as the war eludes their control. In a wonderful climactic scene, they dismiss the their translators and get completely drunk, unable to communicate except through mime and random words – yet they reach a profound understanding.

So Churchill in Moscow has a lot to say about language and communication, reminding us that everyday idioms in one language sounds like nonsense in another. At the same time, Brenton emphasizes the personal aspects of international politics, showing how the fragile egos of world leaders need to be smoothed by their subordinates, or manipulated (in a good way) by women. With recent phones calls between Trump and Putin, the insight that world power depends on personality as well as historical forces gives the play its relevance. If the character of Svetlana is introduced to humanize the evil Stalin, she also reminds us that his policy of terror applied to his own domestic situation. And, this is more leftfield, she also offers us a vision of the future after the defeat of Hitler.

Littler’s production is notably clear and gives Brenton’s word play and characterisation their full due. Designer Cat Fuller’s set has a wavy sunburst floor pattern, which evokes war as well as the Reds, and a golden chandelier, a symbol of the frugal leader’s wish to impress visitors. Allam’s Churchill is a mix of imperial rhetoric, undiplomatic impatience and schoolboy enthusiasm, while Peter Forbes’s Stalin, who speaks with a West Country accent (an equivalent to his Georgian roots), is part genial hard-drinking host, part paranoid Tsar and part indulgent father. The onstage dynamic of the two is at times electric, and sometimes farcical.

Such is world politics. As Brenton suggests, if everything is possible in Moscow at night, then a lot depends on your support staff. If the role of Molotov is slightly underwritten, Julius D’Silva does give the character a sinister wedge, while Alan Cox’s Archie has a very English bonhomie, which when necessary rises to the need to keep his master on the straight and narrow. Elisabeth Snegir and Jo Herbert (pictured above) lend Olga and Sally a breezy humour which lightens the load of military and literary dryness, while Tamara Greatrex, making her stage debut, is perfect as the teenage Svetlana. Like the summit itself, this production is a thorough success.

• Churchill in Moscow at the Orange Tree Theatre until 8 March
• More theatre reviews on theartsdesk

@AleksSierz