All posts by Edward Lukes

2016

“A Flea In Her Ear” at the Tabard Theatre

A cast of six share 15 characters in this French farce, which provides much of the fun in a fresh and foul-mouthed adaptation of Georges Feydeau’s classic, translated by Sacha Bush and directed by Alex Sutton. With its doppelgänger plot line, costumes and accents summarise characters and performers stand in for colleagues, creating a conspiratorial air to the ooh la la comedy that gets the audience as high as the Montgolfier brothers by the interval.

The second act is a disappointingly bumpy ride, with too much running about and far too much fainting. The production’s strengths are in the details. Fun songs comprised of random French words are a highlight, along with camp touches, knowing glances and fun with national stereotypes, ‘Allo ‘Allo! style.

Dominic Brewer and Haley Catherine play (mostly) the couple whose rupture conjugale drives the plot, seldom dropping a beat. Rachel Dawson is superb as their posh friend Lucienne, likewise Richard Watkins as their nephew with a (sorry) funny speech impediment. Good taste often leaves the stage – especially in scenes at the Pussy Cat Hotel with Watkins’ Austin Powers-inspired manager – but this team lands the laughs.

Jamie Birkett is a natural comedian, getting a great deal from her doctor character’s moustache on a stick. For sheer variety of accents, she is neck and neck with Clark James, who plays a violently jealous Spaniard and a Brummy insurance clerk. Just to even things out, Birkett and James share the cameo of the one Brit to appear (in Union Jack underpants, of course). Minor set malfunctions are taken in James’s stride – showing how focused as well as funny his performance is – he and the flaky wallpaper panels aren’t the only brilliant moments in a très jolly night out.

Until 23 April 2016

www.tabardweb.co.uk

Photo by Tom Bezant

2016

“Les Blancs” at the National Theatre

Lorraine Hansberry’s ambitious play, unfinished at the time of her early death, has been polished to perfection for director Yaël Farber’s stirring production. Combining theatrical realism with a yen for Greek theatre that makes the Olivier auditorium a perfect venue, this is a political drama that goes to the dark heart of human nature.

There’s a lot going on and the play is long. A white reporter and a returning local chief’s son arrive in an unspecified African country under colonial rule and become embroiled in a struggle for independence, trapped by their sense of responsibility – one to write a truthful story, the other to fight for freedom.

This isn’t a new play, so, the arguments against colonialism and exploitation are depressingly familiar. It’s in the debates intelligent presentation that the work becomes urgent while the passionate delivery makes the production excellent. The Whites of the title are impressively nuanced: centred around a hospital, doctors (engaging performances from James Fleet and Anna Madeley) wait for the return of their missionary leader, along with his wife, a magisterial role for Siân Phillips. Their opinions leak out under the journalistic gaze of Mr. Morris. In an angry performance by Elliot Cowan how much Morris has in common with the well intentioned Westerners is clear, but there’s a suspicion more subtlety could be plumbed.

The focus is the story of Tshembe Matoseh, a reluctant rebel fighter, “ravaged” by history, superbly portrayed by Danny Sapani. His two brothers (well delineated by Tunji Kasim and Gary Beadle) provide more perspective on the complexity of colonial rule. The anger and violence that overwhelms their family is firmly controlled by Hansberry’s text. A non-speaking woman, depicted impressively by Sheila Atim, accompanies Tshembe, allegorically adding to his burden, and the his inevitable descent into a tragic, you might say biblical, crime is shocking.

With all the argument in the play – several long speeches that could easily have defeated less able actors – it is a triumph that Farber has created such a theatrical and emotive show. Aided by Xhosa singers and Soutra Gilmour’s impressive set, we get not just politics but epic drama.

Until 2 June 2016

www.nationaltheatre.org.uk

Photo by Johan Persson

2016

“Hand to God” at the Vaudeville Theatre

Puppets, on stage and screen, often misbehave. The simple sock in Robert Askins’ play, created to perform Bible stories as part of a church project, is as foul-mouthed and frisky as any teenage boy. And that’s pretty much the drive and destination of this funny, crowd-pleasing Broadway hit. Said to demonically possess our hero Jason, the puppet, like the devil, has all the best lines, delivering outrage and a brief investigation of religion. Better still, there’s tension and tenderness as the puppet reflects his owner’s fears, a mother and son relationship and the pain of recent bereavement. Travelling with the show is director Moritz von Stuelpnagel, creating a polished, confident feel and benefitting from a heavenly cast for this devilish comedy.
Hand-To-God-Vaudeville-302
Jemima Rooper is particularly impressive as a well-meaning potential girlfriend for Jason. Also landing laughs are Kevin Mains and Neil Pearson as, respectively, a small-town bad boy and the local pastor, both shockingly in thrall to Jason’s mother. Here’s a brilliant role for Janie Dee who excels as Margery – it’s hard to pin down whether her husband’s death or his miserable life have done the most damage. It’s Margery’s son who is the focus, going off the rails in manic (and bloody) style: a star role for Harry Melling, and performed faultlessly. With precise comedy timing, superb puppetry and accomplished physicality, Melling brings an intensity to the role that carries the show – this is one actor who’s no puppet.

Until 11 June 2016

www.handtogod.co.uk

2016

“Guys and Dolls” at the Phoenix Theatre

With so many shows on offer in London, it’s unusual to see the same production twice. But the latest hit from the Chichester Festival Theatre, a brilliant revival of Frank Loesser’s classic musical of gamblers, gangsters and their gals, has a new cast that makes revisiting as joyous as the first time around.

The production is also on a parallel UK tour, and Peter McKintosh’s clever neon sign design is sure to serve the show well on its travels. A fine ensemble does justice to the choreography from Carlos Acosta and Andrew Wright, while director Gordon Greenberg gives the show a Broadway feel despite its modest size.

Gavin Spokes remains with the show to reprise his brilliant Nicely Nicely Johnson and get yet more encores for Sit Down, You’re Rockin’ The Boat. Joined by Jason Pennycooke as Benny Southstreet, this is a double act that gets the show up to speed double quick. Siubhan Harrison also remains in town, ever more comfortable in her role as Salvation Army Sergeant Miss Sarah. Playing her love interest Sky Masterson is Oliver Tompsett, who gives a fine performance showcasing a surprisingly old-fashioned voice – he’s a proper crooner, sure to acquire fans. If the chemistry and charisma you might hope for isn’t quite magical, the humour is spot on.

GUYS AND DOLLS, ,Music and lyrics - FRANK LOESSER., Book - JO SWERLING and ABE BURROWS, Director Gordan Greenberg, Choreographer - Carlos Acosta, Designer - Peter MaKintosh, Phoenix Theatre, London, 2016, Credit: Johan Persson - www.perssonphotography.com /
Richard Kind and Samantha Spiro

Greenberg’s focuses on the fun in Jo Swerling and Abe Burrows’ book. As a result, it is low-rent fixer Nathon Detroit and his long-suffering fiancée Adelaide who become our heroes. Chichester’s original casting coup (David Haig and Sophie Thompson) is, if anything, bettered. American comedian Richard Kind takes over as Detroit, adding a down-at-heel quality that makes this smalltime crook all the more appealing, while Samantha Spiro is wonderful as his eternal bride to be, with comedy skills second to none and a belting voice that makes the most of Adelaide’s Lament and brings a Dietrich spin to Take Back Your Mink.

Until 29 October 2016

www.guysanddollsthemusical.co.uk

Photos by Johan Persson

2016

“Goodbye Norma Jean” at the Park Theatre

An Essex grandmother runs away from her care home to Los Angeles, where she claims to be Marilyn Monroe. She’s followed by her grandson Joe, portrayed sensitively by Jamie Hutchins, and their relationship is explored with frank humour. The star is Vicki Michelle, famous for her role in ‘Allo ‘Allo, who makes the jokes work and creates some tender moments. Michelle lights up the show and is incredibly engaging. It’s unfortunate that the material falls short of her talents.

Dylan Costello’s script, which director Matthew Gould fails to rein in, suffers from leaden lines and an excess of events. Joe, whose boyfriend is abusive, talks to an imaginary Marilyn and has a burgeoning romance to deal with. It’s not that any of these plots are bad but, when combined, the play takes on more than it can cope with. Themes of fame and self-worth are fine, the topics are rich if unoriginal, but they end up being shouted and what could be a sweet comedy ends up taking itself too seriously.

The play has unhappy roles for its secondary characters. Farrel Hegarty has a near impossible task as two versions of imaginary Marilyns (I am afraid she appears to Michelle’s character as well) and only gets to shine with a smaller role as a TV host – yet another subplot that rams home the play’s suspicion of celebrity. Even worse is the part of Bobby, played by Peter McPherson. Costello creates characterisation through backstory alone – in just one scene we see Bobby as an unstable practical joker, a prostitute, a drug addict and the lover of a Hollywood star threatening to kill him. Clearly, a life a little too crowded with incident.

As for dialogue, the script is a tiresome collection of homespun truths that shouldn’t have been allowed out of the house, let alone near a stage. Some efforts at profundity don’t even make sense, especially in the relationship between Joe and Bobby, who fall in and out of love from sentence to sentence and end up talking about opening a pizza restaurant together. Nonsense like this, including a scene where Joe gets some new trainers, slows things down dreadfully. Throwing in terminal cancer and euthanasia seems vaguely tasteless and Costello’s script continually deflates during a painful second act. Hutchins struggles valiantly and Michelle makes sure you aren’t bored, but it’s a relief to say goodbye rather than au revoir to a script like this.

Until 19 March 2016

www.parktheatre.co.uk

Photo by Mia Hawk

2016

“The Maids” at the Trafalgar Studios

Jamie Lloyd might well be the perfect director for iconoclastic playwright Jean Genet. Both share an irreverent bold approach and a Baroque intensity epitomised in Lloyd’s stirring production of Genet’s 1947 piece. The sick, twisted, sexualised fantasies of two servants, role-playing the murder of their mistress, are made “drunk, wild, beautiful” in this visually arresting and accomplished show.

Lloyd also has a way with stars, enticing exciting talent to the West End and getting the most from many a performer. The luminaries here are Uzo Aduba (from Orange is the New Black), joined by Zawe Ashton, playing the titular revolting servants. Ashton gives a fine performance, Aduba a tremendous one. Intense from the start, Ashton drags up as her mistress for a disturbed ‘ceremony’ that’s an orgy of degradation, violence and kink – her jerky movements unsettle and excite. Aduba is an astonishing presence on stage, frightening and engrossing, her intelligent appreciation of the rhythm of the text carrying you forcibly through the traumatic, suspenseful, action.

Laura Carmichael and Uzo Aduba in The Maids CREDIT Marc Brenner
Laura Carmichael and Uzo Aduba

When Mistress arrives it’s a blunt shock to find she’s every bit as bad as we’ve been led to believe. Laura Carmichael holds her own (no small achievement given the brevity of her role) portraying a superficial, doll-like rich bitch. This contemporary, recognisable, figure allows Lloyd to emphasise the play’s political content: the accents may be American but a London audience is instantly connected to Kensington.

Fun is had by Lloyd, in keeping with the work of translators Benedict Andrews and Andrew Upton. Genet’s rich themes are explored bravely but there’s also humour from some of the exaggeration here – the maids giggle more than you might expect. The language is blue (very) but I can’t imagine Genet would blush. It’s surprising you don’t see this play revived more often. Lloyd’s production is a valuable addition to the reputation of a modern classic.

Until 21 May 2016

www.atgtickets.com

Photos by Marc Brenner

2016

“Cleansed” at the National Theatre

Playwright Sarah Kane’s notoriety and early death make an assessment of any revival problematic. It may still be too soon to appraise Kane’s work objectively but it is disappointing that her first play to be staged at the National Theatre, under the aegis of director Katie Mitchell, embraces oddity and opacity to a degree that the piece unravels as a sensation-seeking mess.

My best guess is that the institution we’re taken inside of is a lunatic asylum – and that we are seeing it through the eyes of an inmate. The doctor is a torturer, the staff faceless figures, mutilating any patient professing love for another. To say the action is gruesome is an understatement: it includes rape, cutting off fingers and toes and an enforced sex change. Kane’s twisted imagination is haunting. But here, the imagery is delivered in so exaggerated a fashion that it’s more schlocky than shocking.

Kane’s Orwellian motifs are matched by Mitchell injecting touches of Pasolini. With a penchant for slow motion that makes the staging feel dated, and people walking backwards (Mitchell likes that), the whole thing is far too close to parody for comfort: we know it’s art since nobody is wearing shoes. Kane’s imagination is not matched by designer Alex Eales’ derelict-looking clinic – the play deserves more than distressed wall and few broken tiles.

The performances have a stilted quality that results from Mitchell’s heavy hand. There’s a lot of hard work, especially from Michelle Terry, whose character is grieving for a lost brother, and Peter Hobday, a sad soul whose love for his partner is tested via horrific torture. The performers feel like puppets and no character is elaborated enough to generate much interest. A frantic energy fills the show but is counter-productive, all the alarms and running around prove tiresome, while repetition makes things duller still.

Yet the biggest problems for the production are more basic. A lot of dialogue is difficult to hear. There isn’t much plot in Cleansed but distinguishing the characters is made trickier than it needs to be. And, if you are sitting at the sides of the auditorium, far too much action is out of sight. The music and sound design, by Paul Clark and Melanie Wilson, are interesting but strangely muted. All these frustrations added together make it tempting to just give up. Reports of people fainting at the show seem questionable – it’s more likely that they fell off their chairs when they fell asleep.

Until 5 May 2016

www.nationaltheatre.org.uk

Photo by Stephen Cummiskey

2016

“Protect and Survive” at the Vault Festival

Michael Ross’ comedy drama takes us back to the 1980s and is a brilliant satire about that dire decade. The observations are spot on (there’s even a reference to Clannad) making this short play about three teenagers exploring a nuclear bunker full of laughs. Impressively, as local country boy Jack provides a dangerous adventure for London siblings Kirsty and Charlie, the jokes turn pitch black in the blink of an eye.

Our couple from the capital are blissfully recognisable. With a knowing eye on their “cosmopolitan identity politics”, Ross makes his subject more than just nostalgia. Kirsty has a realistically thin sophistication that Carla Rose renders superbly. Charlie is fantastically funny, his every line worth quoting – bourgeois is “French for Daily Mail reader” – and delivered gleefully by Josh Husselbee.
Protect and Survive VAULT image 2
The central role is Jack, performed with care by Karl Mercer, who injects an intriguing childlike quality into his character. Twisted fantasies become all the more shocking and have a comic edge – some of the situations really shouldn’t this funny, and it’s a gift to make people laugh and then feel slightly ashamed for doing so.

There’s an interesting twist too – a parallel drawn between the danger and paranoia of the Cold War and that surrounding the AIDS crisis – an idea that deserves further exploration. Andrew Pritchard’s direction makes great use of the space (including a lovely scene with torches), which, although uncomfortable and smelly, is perfect for the underground locale of the play. But it’s Ross’s humour that makes the play really exciting. Intelligent and genuinely subversive, this comedy has an energy that indicates how much the writer has to say.

Until 6 March 2016

www.vaultfestival.com

Photos by Andrew Pritchard

2016

“Table Top Shakespeare” at the Barbican

Shakespeare with a cast of condiments sounds simply daft. Presented on a desk, as advertised, bottles and objects make their entrances and exits, standing in for the characters, controlled by a single performer who retells the plot of the play. That all this is perilously close to parody can’t be lost on Forced Entertainment, the company responsible for hosting the whole of Shakespeare’s canon in this fashion. There’s a reverential air to the hour-long retellings that raises an ironic smile. But against the odds, it’s all strangely compelling and affords an insight into the plays that makes it a tremendous theatrical experience in its own right.

The performance I attended was Richard II. The monarch was a bottle of water, his attendants salt and pepper pots. Terry O’Connor recounted events slowly and carefully, occasionally pointing out famous lines. The retelling isn’t as neutral as it seems – alongside O’Connor’s engaging and clear delivery – there’s a subtle commentary added. Forced Entertainment’s technique exposes the mechanics of the play’s construction, which proves enlightening. Bereft of alarums and excursions, it’s an intense experience. The objects, empowered by your imagination, hold attention with surprising force – I don’t think I have ever felt so much for the role of Richard’s queen – here a cut-glass vase. Brilliantly simple and simply brilliant.

Until 6 March 2016

www.forcedentertainment.com

2016

“Transports” at the Pleasance Theatre

Travelling briefly to London from Cornwall, Pipeline Theatre’s play is a strong piece of storytelling, written and directed by Jon Welch. Get your tickets quickly, as this multi-layered story, drawing parallels between two very different women’s lives, is a powerful and rewarding work.

Flitting between the arrival of Lotte in London with Kindertransport and her fostering of troubled teenager Dinah many years later, there’s no shortage of plot here. The script feels crammed at times, but the central relationship, set in the 1970s and tapping into trauma, makes for great drama.

These are dream roles for actresses. Playing the young Lotte and Dinah is Hannah Stephens. The former couldn’t be a bigger contrast to the damaged teenager who was abandoned at birth and disturbingly associates sex with power. Stephens’ conveys a dangerous edge, alongside fragility, brilliantly.

Juliet Welch also doubles roles, as the older Lotte and as Lotte’s first carer when she arrives from Germany. These are carefully crafted performances – her face changes remarkably between the roles and Lotte’s trace of an accent is well studied. Welch’s ability to make this “crazy old woman” more than simply endearing, with the odd penetrating remark, is well honed.

There are occasional moments when the direction feels laboured, often those around the frequent changes of (well-sourced) costumes. Some flashback scenes are frustratingly short. But Transports, gaining poignancy from being inspired by the real-life story of Liesl Munden, still alive and well in Cornwall, is impressively unsentimental. Similarities between Lotte and Dinah’s emotions, focusing on violence against women, are powerful but never forced – they resonate rather than deafen. Best of all are Dinah’s monologues – flashes of poetry that are electric and show that this often quiet play is powered by rocket fuel.

Until 12 March 2016

www.pleasance.co.uk