Philip Seymour Hoffman Directs ‘Riflemind’

I really wanted to love Riflemind. It sounded excellent anyway, with a good dose of celebrity to carry it along. Directed by Oscar-winning Philip Seymour Hoffman, written by Cate Blanchett’s husband, Andrew Upton, and staring Ruth Gemmell and John Hannah – the latter on whom I used to have an unnaturally large crush – the all star credentials were there for the taking. But somehow it just didn’t quite, make it.

The concept, a once infamous rock band converges at front man John’s country mansion for a weekend where they intend to resurrect the band and organise a tour, sounded promising. And it started well. Frosty, challenging dynamics between the three lead band members added tension to a complex dynamic between John and his yoga-obsessed girlfriend Lynn.

The main players circled around each other, gently testing out their opponents, with fighting talk and clever quips. From there the drama descended into something much more intense, as rivalries and past angst began to surface. Drug addiction, money and family secrets all fell into the melting pot, sliding towards an ending that was hopeless and empty.

There was a point to make here. The idea that bands have a shelf life, and the analysis of what happens once this is over is fascinating; take away someone’s celebrity and what do you have left? Can the damage that drugs and drink do ever be righted in later years with clean living? Is fame ultimately a personal, private thing that you cannot share with even your best of friends – does it, in the end, destroy you? Why do no bands ever manage to just stay together?

And yet, while it seemed these were the questions that concerned Upton, in the end the play just descended into a lot of shouting and swearing. It was hard to care for anyone on the stage, who just seemed so self-involved and loathsome.

There were powerful moments – Lynn’s spectacular descent back into her heroin addiction in particular showing how quickly drugs can recover their hold on you. And the acting was not to be sniffed at – strong, powerful and impressive. The set was great too. In fact this play looked the part, but when it came down to it, Riflemind just went round in circles, fighting with itself to create some form of catharsis or meaning.

Perhaps the point was that there is no meaning. Or something terribly postmodern like that. But if that’s the case then it was lost on me. And – judging by the muted applause – most of the audience as well.

Riflemind
Trafalgar Studios
Whitehall SW1A 2DY

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