In the first scene of this 1984 play, enjoying a somewhat premature Broadway revival, a man confronts his wife with evidence of her affair. In the second scene we learn that the two were acting in a play--yet something very similar is going on in their own lives. The nice thing about The Real Thing is that Stoppard's penchant for trickery doesn't register as mere virtuosity but is integral to his probing exploration of betrayal and trust among married couples. Stephen Dillane heads a flawless, starless cast that has brought over David Leveaux's sharp production from London's Donmar Warehouse, and it's...
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