Midnight Cowboy

Some books make such great movies that people forget the books. Some films make good theatre, but there's every chance that if you go back to the book then the theatre will be better still.

That's certainly what Tim Fountain seems to have done with Midnight Cowboy. This powerful version merges book and film to produce pure theatre.

Having impressed in previous years with small-scale productions that somehow produce epic theatre, it's good to see John Clancy bring the same techniques to a bigger stage with such success.

This is one of those productions where almost constant movement of props and scenery never seems intrusive; instead it becomes an integral part of the flow of action. The New York in which Texas hustler and stud Joe Buck finds himself so adrift is admirably conjured up by figures scurrying to and fro. The period arrives courtesy of Bob Dylan and news reports on the soundtrack.

There's great ensemble work, particularly from Nancy Walsh, Sam Crane and the ever-reliable David Calvitto. But no Midnight Cowboy can get by without its stud and Charles Aitken is excellent as the na've loser who slowly discovers humanity.

However, as in the film, everyone is eclipsed by Ratso. Con O'Neill is so powerfully convincing as the crippled no-hoper that I swear I could smell his BO halfway back in the stalls. It's he who makes the ending so devastating.