Charles was Halder in the play Good in 1999

Good played at the Donmar Warehouse for 75 performances from 18 March - 21 May 1999.

Halder, a German literary academic who considers himself a "good" man, is drawn by stealth and his own complacency into the Nazi cause, in particular the Final Solution. This, in spite of the fact that his best friend is a Jew. Dance invests Halder with a subtle balance of intellectual authority, benign virility and a moral weakness that is alarmingly convincing. Given the fact that he also has to take on a share of domestic responsibilities as his hapless and scatterbrained wife seems incapable of keeping the house clean, Halder looks increasingly like a prototype New Man; a suggestion that amuses Dance when we meet at the Groucho Club over lunch.

"He's got to be able to cook dinner and take the kids to school rather than being bogged down in his neurosis. I try to find as many moments and feelings that I can relate to. The older you are, the bigger catalogue you have to draw upon. Then comes the moment when you have to make a judgment. There is a line when Halder says 'Good, whatever that means ' which always makes me think of Charles and Diana - 'Love, whatever that means.' I mean, if you don't know, why use the word? Ambiguity is always an attractive thing to play. Always."

                                                          

The play's replacement of straightforward chronology with emotional logic gives the themes unusual theatrical richness but it also means that it is exceedingly difficult to pull off. Yet Michael Grandage's compelling and startlingly intelligent production -- the finest direction at the Donmar in years -- is an outstanding success. Everything pivots around Charles Dance's sensitive and surprisingly witty Halder. The finale -- something of a coup de theatre in Grandage's hands -- reveals Halder as having undergone an emotional breakdown, which makes complete dramatic sense due largely to Dance's ability to plot his journey with superbly relaxed aplomb.  

with Ian Gelder

Dance is superb. His human portrayal of the subject matter endears you to his character despite the obvious hell he is helping to create. Emilia Fox as Halder’s mistress Anne, brings a vibrant energy to the stage, adoring of her lover and mentor, yet equally as blind to the world that exists beyond their group of new-found friends, the endless parties, the weekends in the country.

http://www.curtainup.com/londgood.html

Charles Dance, however, an actor who often gives the impression that he thinks a handsome profile can make amends for a dull performance, is merely blandly unlikeable. As he leaves his inadequate wife for a young student admirer, shouts at his demented mother and abandons his Jewish friend to his fate, Dance totally fails to create the spell of complicity with the audience that can make the play so unsettling. Only his sudden, Conradian awareness of horror at the end achieves real impact.
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/culture/4717115/Not-so-good-second-time-round.html

I found Dance's performance disappointing, being too monotone in delivery at times, but at least he looked the part in his jackboots and shiny uniform, and through to the play's grim conclusion is well supported by Gelder and Moreton. Ms Fox is suitably ingenuous, whilst Ms Turner's Helen cuts a pathetic figure worn down by her husband's infidelities.

http://www.whatsonstage.com/reviews/theatre/london/E427139555/Good.html

 When I saw Alan Howard premiere this breathtaking modern classic, in what remains the performance of his career, it struck me as a chamber concert in death and destruction, pitched somewhere between "Cabaret" and "Pennies From Heaven." And through it all, Howard's myopic otherworldliness set precisely the right tone of uncertainty so that we never knew, before his final, awful arrival at the gates of Auschwitz, whether or not he was really to go through with the Nazi agenda.

Dance has, by contrast, a brooding Machiavellian quality that makes it pretty clear from the outset which way he is going to jump, simply out of a strong sense of practical self-preservation.

http://www.nytimes.com/1999/03/31/style/31iht-lon.2.t_0.html