Chariots of Fire Review – A Thrilling Production Beyond Just Running

The warmup of all warmups is under way: the cast is limbering up for Chariots of Fire with the help of old-fashioned treadmills, a vaulting horse, and a hardwood gymnasium floor. Stretches, press-ups, jogging on the spot — it is all about the readiness to run. The set, designed by Ben Stones, is understated, and the costumes are an attractively calculated mix of vintage stripes and whites.

This is a revisiting of Mike Bartlett’s agile 2012 adaptation of Hugh Hudson and Colin Welland’s cinematic masterpiece from 1981. Directed by Robert Hastie, whose tenure at the Crucible is concluding as he moves to the National Theatre as Indhu Rubasingham’s deputy artistic director, this production exuberantly revolves around a singular question: why run?

Harold Abrahams, a Jewish boy studying at Cambridge in the 1920s, faces pervasive antisemitism (“with a name like Abrahams, he won’t be in the chapel choir”). He is played by Adam Bregman with incisive charm. His ambition is to be “fast” and “to win,” but he leaves it to the audience to decipher what winning truly means to him. Meanwhile, to his university rival, Eric Liddell, the son of a Scottish missionary, the question of “why run” becomes a theological one, an article of faith. Michael Wallace portrays him unaffectedly, like a grownup schoolboy in whom gaucheness equates with virtue.

Movement director Ben Wright has been resourceful in finding ways to depict running within the theatre, achieving suspense on the spot. This is most successful in the slow-motion races, where running seems almost to yield to dance. Although the pacing between races sometimes needs tightening, this is a hugely enjoyable show.

An excellent cast completes the production. Richard Cant is priceless in his three roles, especially when he adds a small garnish of sardonic entitlement as Lord Birkenhead that recalls Jacob Rees-Mogg. Lois Pearson is sympathetic and convincing as Jennie Liddell, Eric’s devoted sister. Leo Wan makes a singular Prince of Wales, and Bessy Ewa is gorgeously assured as Harold’s girlfriend, a D’Oyly Carte singer, basking in song.

However, it is Aubrey Montague, Harold Abrahams’s college friend, who provides the most persuasive answer to the play’s central question. Tom Glenister intelligently plays this role, giving depth and nuance to the character’s interpretation of what it means to run.