Afterword
Anthony Lau, director
When I first came across Man and Boy, I was immediately struck by how unique it is amongst Terence Rattigan’s tremendous body of work. As expected, the play contained characters brought to life in glorious technicolour; witty and muscular dialogue; depths of feeling both concealed and professed; and an innate understanding of the complexities of what it means to be human. Its focus on the relationship between father and son was compelling, but what surprised me was how it wrestled with the political and economic so directly, and that the machinations of Gregor Antonescu in 1934 should feel so unrelentingly contemporary to now.
In Gregor, Rattigan has written a behemoth recognisable today, whose power transcends governments and amorality drives the global economy. It seems as if the world ran then – in 1934, when the play is set; and 1963, when it was written – as it does now. The play’s brilliance, however, is in how Rattigan collides the personal with the universal. At the heart of this story is an intricate navigation of what it means to be both a father and a son, and the nature of filial love when driven to extremis by someone of Gregor’s character.
In the winter of 2023, Ben Daniels (playing Gregor Antonescu) and I went into a workshop for the play at the National Theatre. Ben’s skill and insight quickly revealed even more layers and depths to Gregor than I had envisaged; his physicality brought the play’s timelessness into sharp relief and, alongside designer Georgia Lowe, we felt as if a Modernist approach could further define the contours and nuances of the play. Man and Boy’s period context is vital, and by stripping back and focusing on specific details, our intention has been to better magnify Rattigan’s characters and the robustness of his text.
This approach has greatly shaped the script for our production of Man and Boy – which has only been possible with the support and openness of Alan Brodie and the Rattigan estate. In addition, we owe a debt to Maria Aitken, whose version of the play for her 2004/5 revival proved an invaluable resource throughout the process of compiling our production text from Rattigan’s various drafts. We have followed Maria’s two-act structure of the play, which I believe lends a better balance to the story arc, and been inspired by the pace and fluidity ofher edit.
Working alongside the New Work Department at the National Theatre Studio, I believe that we have arrived at a version of the text that amplifies the tone and nature of Rattigan’s published play whilst sharpening elements of the storytelling. We have prioritised showing over telling, and pared back some of the intricacies of the economics in the pursuit of clarity and understanding for our audience. Rattigan’s excellence partially lies in his ability to grapple with a multitude of themes simultaneously, and we have endeavoured to ensure that each is as clear and specific as intended. This has sometimes meant the omission of certain details or period references, but it has always been done with the purpose of honouring Rattigan’s designs.
Half a century after Rattigan’s death, the programming of Man and Boy at the National Theatres speaks to the enduring relevance of his work. We only have to look at the world around us today to see a society dominated by billionaires and strongmen, amoral in their actions and driven by self-interest. In confronting us with a character as knotty as Gregor, Rattigan is speaking to our fascination with the monstrous; that we might be enthralled by him is both a warning and an acceptance of the devil.
Writing in 2006, Maria Aitken said she hoped that ‘Man and Boy will now take its rightful place in the Rattigan canon and receive many more revivals.’ Twenty years on, I echo her hopes and feel privileged to be contributing some small part to Rattigan’s legacy. Time may have passed, but Man and Boy remains as prescient as ever and, unlike Antonescu Holdings, Rattigan’s stock continues to soar.
This piece appears in the new edition of Terence Rattigan’s Man and Boy, published by Nick Hern Books, and available from the National Theatre Bookshop.
Copyright © 2026 Anthony Lau
