"The Collection" is a one-hour film made for Granada Television in 1976, billed as the "Best Play of 1960." Written by Harold Pinter, it is directed by Michael Apted, and produced by Laurence Olivier, who is also a member of the quartet of stars (the others are Alan Bates, Malcolm McDowell and Helen Mirren), who make up two couples (I won't give away the configuration).
A single event triggers a ripple of jealous reaction which affects all four. It's vintage Pinter, rich with ambiguity. The performances are flawless, the dialog is pregnant with multiple layers of meaning, and in the end we are not absolutely sure of what has happened, what will happen next, or who does (or does not) appreciate olives.

N.B.: One reason it's called "The Collection" is because two of the characters are fashion designers. There might well be other interpretations. |||

From Laurence Olivier: Theater & Cinema
by Robert L. Daniels

A. S. Barnes & Company, Inc. (San Diego & New York), The Tantivy Press (London), text copyright 1980 by A. S. Barnes & Co., Inc. (ISBN 0-498-02287-0).

Pinter's arresting short play is crowded with an intangible menace. Words left unspoken provide fierce theatrical intensity. It is a masterful chamber piece orchestrated for a perfectly tuned quartet of actors. Olivier joined Alan Bates, Malcolm McDowell, and Helen Mirren in an extraordinary display of adroit ensemble acting.
The actor analyzed the dark secrets of Pinter's disturbing drama in an interview with TV Guide.
"I had seen it done by the Royal Shakespeare Company in London and thought, my God, that's a beautiful little play. Without exception, it was one of the most exquisite pieces of work I had ever seen. And so I said, I'll do that one day. As every single day of rehearsal went by, we found more and more and more in the play. It's not a darling bit of froth along the top of the wavelets, you know. It is as deep as can be, and absolutely filled with cross-references of every kind. With a fellow like Pinter, you don't by any means get it all on the first hearing.
"Each person in the play is terrified of losing what he's got - and in each case that is another person. The Alan Bates character is terrified of losing his wife. His wife is terrified of losing Alan Bates, although she plays around and has been found to be doing so. My character is simply terrified of the moment that the young boy (McDowell) falls in love with a female. I don't want to lose that boy, and the boy doesn't want to lose what he gets out of me, which is a very comfortable means of livelihood.
"It's so pathetic when I try to explain my situation to the girl. I say 'I picked him up in a slum, you see. I just happened to be in a slum and there he was with no roof over his head.' She knows perfectly well what the truth behind all this is, and she pretends to be ever to innocent. And that's what's wonderful - the way people think they have a hope of kidding each other. But they're all sensitive and highly sophisticated, and they all cling manfully to the hope that they can pull the wool over the others' eyes, and of course they can't. And they really know they can't, and at the end it's clear they haven't. You're left in a state of absolute flux, not sure whether they've managed to keep for themselves what it is they're terrified of losing. I think it's the most beautiful bit of work I've ever had anything to do with. And I don't think I've ever been so happy in any job before." |||