An extraordinary transformation and a convincing Capote can’t quite overcome a play in which too little happens
⭐⭐⭐
What’s it about?
It’s December 1975 and Truman Capote is alone in his New York apartment, dealing with the fallout from the publication of an extract from his unfinished novel Answered Prayers. His thinly disguised revelations about the wealthy society women he called his “swans” have seen him ostracised from the social circle he once inhabited.
Jay Presson Allen’s Tru, drawn entirely from Capote’s own words, finds the writer reflecting on his life, career, relationships and increasingly precarious place in the world.
What we loved
Following Midnight at the Never Get, it seems the Menier Chocolate Factory is embracing immersive theatre – and once again it has transformed its entire auditorium into the world of the play.
This time, we are inside Truman Capote’s New York apartment, and designer Paul Farnsworth has gone to town. Giant bookcases filled with books and collectable objects dominate the room; there are ornaments, vases, sofas, drinks trolleys and two large-curtained windows. The detail is wonderful, creating the sense that we have genuinely stepped inside Capote’s home rather than simply entered a theatre.
The audience sits around the apartment in 360 degrees, on couches, chairs and stools, becoming almost like guests at one of Capote’s gatherings. At times Jesse Tyler Ferguson, who plays Capote, is sitting or standing immediately alongside audience members as he moves through the space.
Ferguson gives a convincing performance. He has captured Capote’s distinctive look and mannerisms, but more importantly finds his sharp, mischievous wit. Capote talks directly to the audience throughout the evening, and Ferguson frequently targets individual audience members with a remark or perfectly timed aside. These moments bring an immediacy and unpredictability that suit both the character and the intimate staging.
Charlotte d’Amboise appears as The Swan, elegantly sashaying through the apartment, draping herself across the furniture and providing a physical embodiment of the society world Capote has lost. She and Ferguson interact only briefly; for the most part, this remains very much Capote’s show.
Anything we’d change?
For all the richness of the setting, the play itself feels surprisingly thin.
At around 90 minutes without an interval, Tru isn’t particularly long, yet it struggles to sustain its momentum. Essentially, it is one extended monologue and, dramatically, very little happens.
That would matter less if the writing took us on a more substantial emotional journey. Instead, the piece feels quite one-dimensional. There are few real dramatic peaks and troughs for Ferguson to explore, and not enough progression to give the evening a strong sense of momentum.
Perhaps most surprisingly, it also feels relatively light on Capote himself. We spend 90 minutes in his apartment and in his company, yet anyone arriving without much prior knowledge of his extraordinary life and career may not leave substantially wiser. There are glimpses of the loneliness, addiction and consequences of his fractured relationships, but the production never quite digs deeply enough beneath the witty surface.
There is also a significant practical problem with the immersive staging: the sightlines.
Performing a one-person play in the round is inherently challenging. Wherever Ferguson is positioned, a substantial part of the audience is inevitably looking at his back. But the Menier’s existing pillars compound the problem considerably.
From my seat, Ferguson was obscured for large stretches of the performance. Between the 360-degree staging, the furniture and the pillars, I estimate I could actually Ferguson’s face for less than 10% of the play.
In a conventional ensemble production that might be manageable. In a 90-minute monologue delivered almost entirely by one performer, it becomes a fundamental problem. So much of Ferguson’s performance is in Capote’s facial expressions and his direct relationship with the audience. When you can hear the performance but barely see the person delivering it, that intimacy disappears.
It is particularly frustrating because the immersive design is initially one of the production’s greatest strengths. The Menier has created an extraordinarily detailed environment that puts us physically inside Capote’s world – but for some audience members, that same staging ultimately puts Capote himself out of view.
Verdict
There is much to admire in Tru: an extraordinarily detailed transformation of the Menier, a clever sense of intimacy and a committed, witty performance from Jesse Tyler Ferguson.
But the production is more compelling as an environment than as a drama. The material lacks enough narrative or emotional movement to sustain 90 minutes, while the sightline problems created by the in-the-round staging can leave some audience members frustratingly disconnected from the very performance they have been brought so close to experience.
A beautifully realised apartment and a convincing Capote – but I wanted to see, and learn, much more of him.
Who created it?
Writer: Jay Presson Allen
Director: Rob Ashford
Set Designer: Paul Farnsworth
Costume Designer: Jaimal Odedra
Lighting Designer: Jamie Platt
Sound Designer: Adam Cork