'Second Best' Review: Play About Fame and Fate Fails to Shine at Riverside Studios, But Leaves Food for Thought

★★★ | In Second Best, we first meet Martin Hill (Asa Butterfield) as a young man embarking on the exhilarating yet terrifying new journey of fatherhood. Later, we are introduced to him as the runner-up candidate to play Harry Potter in the film adaptations of J.K. Rowling’s iconic series. The audition process, Martin tells us, was "traumatic" – despite being favoured by the casting director and lauded for his acting talent, he was shafted aside at the very last moment.

This happened eons ago, but it still has a profound impact on how he views his life, relationships, and the new role he is about to step into: parenthood. In a series of humorous quips, he recalls trying to get over this disappointing outcome, from breaking up with a girl who had Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire in her bedroom to stalking Daniel Radcliffe at a château in France. But this comical element is slowly pulled apart to reveal the darker, more melancholic sides of Martin’s childhood – a particularly poignant scene is of him curled up in a hospital bed, recounting the aftermath of a violent altercation with his stepfather.

Asa Butterfield in Second Best. Photo Credit: Hugo Glendinning

The brilliance of this play is the fine line it walks between humour and introspection – Martin makes numerous jocular references to Radcliffe as “He Who Must Not Be Named”, but also discusses the danger of childhood dreams and the sense of enduring dismay they can lead to when unfulfilled. Butterfield is talented at conveying this: at one point, he shouts in frustration that it was not the Potter films' success that mended his parents’ relationship, but his father’s cancer. Yet, Martin’s story is marked by a glimmer of hope: towards the end, he concludes that life is made up of what we did, not didn’t, do. And so he tentatively embraces fatherhood and his ever-growing relationship with his wife, declaring that this story was not about him being second best, but about someone putting him first.

What I enjoyed most about this play is the raw humanity of its central character. Martin is not someone who succeeds with flying colours and therefore preaches the importance of unabashedly fighting for one’s goals, but one who fails hard and is honest about its consequences.

In a way, he embodies Milan Kundera’s idea of the human who views his life as a recurring metaphor – Martin consistently draws parallels between The Boy Who Lived and his life, just as he draws parallels between his wife’s pregnancy and his own relationship with his father. Fly Davis' set is similarly littered with motifs from Martin’s life: a baby cot-cum-childhood cupboard haunts at the back, grocery store shelves full of crisps packets sit to the right, and a hospital bed lurks on the left.

Asa Butterfield in Second Best. Photo Credit: Hugo Glendinning

The only way this play falls short is in Martin’s reflection and exploration of the trauma he experiences from this setback. The monologue is largely narrative, with only a few moments of true reflection shining through towards the conclusion. Perhaps it would have been interesting to hear Martin’s thoughts on what exactly it means to extract oneself from the sense of being “second best” and pursue meaningful relationships in life. Or whether one can really balance the fear of failure with the fruits of one’s labour in chasing one’s dreams. But ultimately, Butterfield does good work with the material he is given, and this is a very engaging play to watch.

★★★

Second Best plays at Riverside Studios until 22 February.