It is odd that Bernard Pomerance’s The Elephant Man, first seen at Hampstead Theatre in 1977, should come back to London, this time at the National’s Lyttelton auditorium, via Broadway, particularly as the director, Roland Rees, designer, Tanya McCallin, costume designer, Lindy Hemming, and some of the cast are the same. Though bigger, it is not necessarily a better production, and the play itself is possibly more successful in telling the extraordinary story of John Merrick, The Elephant Man of the title, than it is when, in the second half, it somehow attempts to ridicule the penchant of Victorian society for “good works” in a rather sanctimonious and snide manner.

To a certain extent this takes the edge off the play, and almost diverts attention from Merrick himself, not easy task. For Merrick, whose condition can now be diagnosed as multiple neurofibromatosis, was so grossly deformed that people had to steel themselves to look at him. Exhibited as a freak, however, he was bearable, for a time, but he eventually came under the care of Frederick Treves, a lecturer at London Hospital Medical School, whose relationship with Merrick forms the really fascinating part of the play. From first regarding him as a medical curiosity, Treves learns to respect him as a man gifted with a sensitive spirit.

David Schofield gives a remarkable performance as Merrick, suggesting his various deformities instead of showing them realistically, thus enabling himself to dig more deeply into the personality of the man to convey his sweet, simple nature, his humility and gratitude, and the sly, childlike humour which enabled him to overcome his inner anguish. Peter McEnery is equally skilful in depicting the clinical coldness of |Treves and his own fight against emotional involvement with his charge.

The other roles are of decidedly secondary importance, though Jennie Stoller vivaciously shows the generosity and good humour of Madge Kendal and Arthur Blake is notable in a variety of parts.