Review Ida Rubinstein: The Final Act ★★★★★

Ida Rubinstein (1883-1960) lived life to the full at a time when Paris was the glamorous centre of the arts; and Ida Rubinstein: The Final Act recounts the highs and lows of her life in a play that is more labour of love than accomplished theatre work.

Born into a Russian Jewish family, Ida Rubinstein inherited a fortune when she became orphaned at an early age. She received the best education in music, dance and theatre, and, intent on going on the stage, moved to Paris, where she immediately caused a stir with her daring stage performance as Salome; so much so that her brother-in-law had her committed to a psychiatric hospital.

Released by the intervention of her family in Russia, she made a marriage of convenience with her first cousin, thus gaining control of her fortune, and returned to Paris. Soon she was taken on by the greatest impresario of the time, Sergei Diaghilev, and for a while she danced with his Ballets Russes, even though she was never a technical dancer.

After leaving the Ballets Russes she set up her own company, and commissioned work from the illustrious artists of the time, including Ravel's Bolero.

All this we’re told through the standard device of having the aged Ida, played by the American former dancer Naomi Sorkin, tell her story to a British interviewer, Edward Clement (Max Wilson). But far from being just a two-hander, Christian Holder’s play brings in other characters as recollected by Ida: the Italian writer and politician Gabriele d’Annunzio (Marco Gambino), the American painter Romaine Brooks (Kathryn Worth), with whom Ida had a passionate affair (and who also had some kind of sentimental liaison with D’Annunzio), and the composer Maurice Ravel (Darren Berry), from whom Ida commissioned Bolero, originally named by Ravel Fandango.

Also recalled are Leon Bakst, whose dazzling designs for the stage came to symbolise the glamour of the epoch, Ida’s British lover Walter Guinness, Diaghilev, and his star dancer Nijinsky.

The production makes use of text, music, movement and video projections to tell Ida’s story. The set, depicting her drawing room, is unusually lush for a small theatre (but then the Playground is a little in-the-know jewel semi-hidden in west London): brocade-covered day-bed, a golden Egyptian statue, piano, small marquetry table, hanging drapes. Ida’s gowns are suitably similarly luxurious.

The problem is that the format doesn’t quite work. Sorkin is always on stage and gives a tour de force performance, but her over-theatrical acting, reminiscent of silent movies, and her cod-Russian accent become tiring. The rest of the cast vary, with Kathryn Worth a credible Romaine Brooks (she also doubles as Rubinstein’s maid) and Gambino way over the top as d’Annunzio.

Max Wilson makes the most of a thankless role as a foil to Sorkin; and the final scene, where Clement kneels at Ida’s grave carrying a big bunch of lilies like a repentant Albrecht, as her spirit rises, Giselle-like, from the grave, is really quite silly.