All posts by Edward Lukes

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“Unscorched” at the Finborough Theatre

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As the winner of the prestigious Papatango New Writing Prize, Luke Owen gets his first play, Unscorched, staged at the Finborough Theatre. Packing in the critics last night, the scene is set to judge the script, and it’s easy to see why it won as it’s a strong piece. But just as impressive are the performances from two players: Ronan Raftery, who takes the lead role, and his love interest, played by Eleanor Wyld.

Back to the playwright. Owen’s unsavoury subject is child abuse, with the action based around an office where pornography is analysed in order to assist the police. We know it’s an unpalatable job; the first scene, with a brief but emotive performance from Richard Atwill, brilliantly shows a worker having a breakdown because of the traumatic material he is exposed to.

Enter our new recruit Tom (Raftery). With the bravest of intentions, the long-serving Nidge, performed capably by John Hodgkinson, mentors him. Seemingly immune to the horrors he watches, Nidge makes us aware of the toll this necessary work takes. And Tom is carefully watched by his boss, who has a “buddy” approach to management that strikes a jarringly comic tone. George Turvey convinces in this role, pointing out the therapeutic potential of an Xbox and promoting paintballing – as if these really could be solutions.

It is the romantic writing, about Tom and his new love affair, which is best and highlights Owen’s intelligent voice. As with the main subject matter, the relationship is written in an admirably understated fashion. Careful to avoid prurient touches, it feels authentic and shows the effects that working in such a horrible field have on ordinary people and this likeable couple in particular.

Satisfying as it is, the relationship Tom starts out on could have been even more of a focus to the play. A series of (too) brief scenes start to become a touch frustrating. Perhaps the direction from Justin Audibert could have been slightly tighter. The astoundingly efficient set from Georgia Lowe works hard but time is taken up preparing for very short scenarios so it feels as if the play needs a bigger stage. Although given the quality of the writing and performances, it surely deserves one.

Until 23 November 2013

www.finboroughtheatre.co.uk

Written 1 November 2013 for The London Magazine

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“The Dumb Waiter” at The Print Room

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Time is of the essence Harold Pinter’s play The Dumb Waiter. The one-act work, which sees two hit men waiting for their instructions, plays with timescales and sets out to disorientate the audience. Protagonists Gus and Ben, your average working killers, complain about their employment conditions and are exposed to an increasingly bizarre series of events – including the eponymous serving hatch of the play’s title, from which strange and threatening orders emerge. The tension mounts, hilarity ensues and in true Pinter style, we’re exposed to raw emotion and left a little puzzled.

The director Jamie Glover, primarily known as an actor, has worked with the talented duo Joe Armstrong and Clive Wood to create superbly detailed performances. Wood plays Ben, the “senior partner”, who bristles with tension. Distracting banalities from the newspaper and professed confidence in the “organisation” they work for can’t hide his anxiety. Wood’s red-ringed eyes reveal he is close to the edge and one scene of his starring into the distance, collapsed in on himself, is extremely powerful. His younger colleague, Gus, is the one willing to ask questions – and there are lots of them. Armstrong gives a winning performance, combining a endearingly puzzled look with great comic skill when the couple squabble over semantics. His character might be a cog in a machine, but one with some spirit and the will examine the way in which they are being manipulated.

Maybe it was the delightfully-crafted pumpkins lining the entrance to the theatre, or more likely Peter Rice’s effective sound design to the show which makes the dumb waiter sound like a supernatural guillotine – but this is a scary night. The men’s boredom escalates into fear instantly but the comedy in the play suffers. Glover opts for menace – a valid decision – but I enjoy Pinter’s dark comedy and felt it lacking here. The absurdities of the situation raise laughs but the general air is one of brooding. It adds to the intensity though and the show becomes incredibly swift; there’s time for dinner afterwards and this play leaves you plenty to discuss.

Until 23 November 2013

www.the-print-room.org

Written 29 October 2013 for The London Magazine

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“Raving” at Hampstead Theatre

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Three couples on a disastrous weekend away in Wales. This is the premise for Simon Paisley Day’s new play, Raving, which opened last night at the Hampstead Theatre. It’s a satisfyingly traditional set-up for a comedy of manners. Boasting superb performances as well as plenty of gags, it should prove another hit for a theatre that director Edward Hall is taking from strength to strength.

An actor himself, Day knows how to craft lines that will get a laugh, and the cast, all experienced comic actors, really capitalise on the script. Hall directs with just the bubbling suggestion of a farce, while keeping the pace appropriate to observational comedy. The couples are instantly recognisable ‘middle-aged parents with stressful lives’. You have a vivid impression of the homes and children they are taking a break from, and can easily imagine which part of London each lives in.

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Barnaby Kay and Tamzin Outwaite

The first arrivals are the neurotic Briony and her sex starved husband Keith. Barnaby Kay makes his character instantly appealing and Tamzin Outwaite is tremendous, turning on the tears and irrational fears at a speed that’s hilarious. As teachers, Briony and Keith see themselves as lower middle class (I am sure that wasn’t always the case) and don’t gel with the better-off Serena and Charles.

The toffs of the play are the tops. Nicholas Rowe’s ex SAS Charles is a scream, bettered only by Issy Van Randwyk whose filthy laugh as Serena I wanted to bottle and keep. They have “four or five” children and just “leave them to it”. No parenting books in their library and they spend too much time in the bedroom, with Charles all over Serena “like German measles”, to read a lot anyway.

In the middle of the pecking order come Ross and Rosy. The seemingly perfect couple who “don’t do late” but do yoga instead. They have problems with au pairs. Robert Webb and Sarah Hardland deal cleverly with their unappealing characters. When the predictable breakdown happens and the raving really starts, it still feels edgy.

The piece has its problems. The introduction of a younger woman, a Sloane with a drug and sex addiction, doesn’t convince, even though the talented Bel Powell does her best. Similarly, the character of the farmer the couples rent a cottage from, while ably performed by Ifan Huw Dafydd, introduces less tension than desired. There are longueurs during the finale, as the couples sexual kinks and dependencies are revealed with a too-obviously confessional tone, but the performances are strong enough to keep the laughs coming.

Until 23 November 2013

www.hampsteadtheatre.com

Photos by Manuel Harlan

Written 25 October 2013 for The London Magazine

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“From Here To Eternity” at the Shaftesbury Theatre

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From Here To Eternity – The Musical opened this week at the Shaftesbury Theatre. The story of military lives and loves, based on James Jones’ novel, is set on the eve of Pearl Harbour. Famous because of the multiple Oscar winning film from 1953, this version is grittier than anything Hollywood could have produced that year. It’s a grown up affair, reminding us that musicals can deal with adult themes and complicated passions and crediting its audience with intelligence – and all the better for that.

The book by Bill Oakes and lyrics by the old maestro Tim Rice catch the attention. There’s no shying away from sex here, as First Sergeant Milt Warden starts a sea-soaked affair with his Captain’s wife Karen, while Private Robert E Lee Prewitt falls in love with a prostitute while battling with pressure from his comrades to return to the boxing ring, where he once blinded a man. There’s a lot going on. The language and violence of the soldiers, bored while waiting for war, has an authentic brutality.

A bold approach to the story is backed up by music from Stuart Brayson, who makes a startling West End debut. Drawing on a variety of styles, that nearly all hit home, this is an accomplished score and highly entertaining. Combined with Rice’s lyrics, there are several fine examples of characterisation. Choreographer Javier De Frutos works marvels with some adventurous dancing that shows off the strength of the male ensemble.

Tamara Harvey directs, dealing effectively with the exciting plot and providing time for the cast’s acting skills. The female characters, a frustrated wife and tart with a heart, are less well served than their love interests. But Rebecca Thornhill and Siubhan Harrison match the leading, male, roles in skill. Robert Lonsdale takes charge, giving a stirring performance as the independent Private Prewitt, while Darius Campbell sounds fantastic as Warden.

There is no shortage of achievements here, not least a satisfying cynicism and a look at big themes that have you itching to go back to the source material. An impressively dark tale, trying hard to be unsentimental and ending with a twist I thought brave – it can’t just be the downbeat subject matter that makes you leave slightly uninspired. A shame since few opportunities to impress are lost – the show just lacks that final spark. It’s a brave critic that offers predictions: stranger musicals than this one have gone on to success and some with fewer merits. I doubt From Here to Eternity will run forever, but it has enough going for it to hold its head high.

Booking until 26 April 2014

Written 24 October 2013 for The London Magazine

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“Adult Supervision” at the Park Theatre

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Adult Supervision, a new play from first-time writer Sarah Rutherford, opened at the Park Theatre last night. When Natasha holds a gathering on the night of Obama’s election victory, planned to unite “mothers of children of colour” attending the same private school, the evening turns predictably sour. The tensions of motherhood and racism are quickly revealed and discomfit the middle-class protagonists and the audience at the same time.

An actress herself, Rutherford has written four fantastic roles for women. Natasha is a ridiculously uptight former lawyer who has renamed her adopted Ethiopian children to make them sound more exotic – a word she really hates. Happily, Susannah Doyle rises above cliché in the role. Her unlikely friend, the dizzy Izzy (the wonderful Olivia Poulet), attends for moral support, even though her children are Caucasian. Much of the tension is woven from the fact that the heavily pregnant Angela is black, married to a white man. Finally we have Mo, a dangerously down-to-earth woman who is far too frank for her surroundings. The latter parts, played with substance and wit by Jacqueline Boatswain and Amy Robbins, are, painfully, easily recognisable.

The play isn’t as funny as one billed as a comedy should be. There are laughs but, despite the women reminding us that “this is supposed to be fun”, pacing sometimes goes awry despite the efforts of talented director Jez Bond. You see this problem again with some enforced craziness – dressing up as a virgin bride and experimenting with lesbianism – that do not convince. Fuelled by improbable amounts of booze, many of the faux pas are a step beyond the credible. The Freudian slips are better, but the majority of humour comes from the performances rather than the script. Doyle and Paulet are particularly strong here.

Rutherford is best when she approaches darker ground: questioning assumptions about racism, including that directed towards the white community, joking about a “multi-racial mafia”, or showing convincing anger at a complacent “bubble” that denies the problems altogether. These are brave moves, with Robbins and Boatswain injecting wholly credible passion. Combined with the compassion the women show each other, despite screaming at one another plenty, there’s a maturity in the writing that makes up for a somewhat pat ending and bodes well for the future.

Until 3 November 2013

www.parktheatre.co.uk

Photo by Mark Douet

Written 11 October 2013 for The London Magazine

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“Roots” at the Donmar Warehouse

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As you might expect, there is a kitchen sink in Arnold Wesker’s 1958 work Roots. But, for all the washing up, the play really revolves around cooking. It starts with some liver, followed by ice cream, as Beatie comes home to her Norfolk village for a holiday. Jessica Raine instantly establishes Beatie – and her own acting skills – as something exceptional. Inspired by the socialist ideals she has been exposed to from her activist fiance Ronnie, she’s a “whirlwind” to her family. Insisting that they start to think and talk like her, she is a harsh, albeit endearing judge.

Next Beatie makes a cake. It’s Ronnie’s recipe. Her formidable mother is busy cooking something else while being lectured to and made to listen to classical music. The preparations are for Ronnie’s visit, an encounter that Beatie is justifiably anxious about. Linda Bassett shines in the role of Mrs Bryant, bringing much humour to the play and almost threatening to make the focus two women rather one (probably not Wesker’s intention), so fine is her performance.

By the final scene, there has been more food (and a bath in between), including a family feast with a trifle to take seriously, and all are assembled for Ronnie’s arrival. There’s a sense we have over indulged. Director James Macdonald’s production is meticulous and, with the help of designer Hildegard Bechtler, the detail approaches fetishism. The observation of rural working-class life is slow but captivating, and concentrated performances from the large ensemble that make up Beatie’s family are similarly precise and of the highest quality.

As well as being slightly bloated, Wesker’s examination of socialist ideas is a little past its sell-by date. Thankfully, there is also Beatie’s journey of self-discovery, and this is all together more satisfying. Raine’s depiction of Beatie’s development is thorough and gratifying, giving her the passion for life that Wesker writes so well about. As she gets down from Ronnie’s soapbox, admittedly on to one of her own, you start to really listen to her, and one leaves feeling that the end is her delicious new beginning.

Until 30 November 2013

www.donmarwarehouse.com

Photo by Stephen Cummiskey

Written 10 October 2013 for The London Magazine

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“Ghosts” at the Almeida Theatre

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Richard Eyre’s production of Ibsen’s Ghosts has been a long time in the making – he first worked on the script in 2006. It must be gratifying that now it has reached the stage, opening this week at the Almeida Theatre, everything has come together so eloquently. Eyre’s adaptation is superb, his direction impeccable and his cast faultless.

In this 1881 play we encounter one of Ibsen’s many heroines, Helene Alving, a magnificent character whose long-endured marriage has ended and who hopes she is now “learning to be free”. But, while ironically planning an orphanage as a memorial to her syphilitic, drunken husband, she is haunted by her decision to shield his philandering from her son and the community. As Helene, it is difficult to praise Lesley Manville sufficiently.

Helene’s unrequited love for her Pastor, a ridiculously religious figure made credible by the clever casting of the excellent Will Keen, and her desperate love for her sick son Oswald, played with skill by Jack Lowden, makes things grim and grimmer for her. A radical thinker, Helene has us on her side, but the past and society are against her. The Pastor’s restraint and Oswald’s bohemianism, including his incestuous attraction to his half-sister, trap Helene like a pincer. Manville copes with the intensity terrifically, agonisingly building up the pressure.

The play is set in a single room, Helene’s “university of suffering”, created out of ghostly transparent walls by designer Tim Hatley. Sometimes opaque, at others revealing the comings and goings of the servants the Alvings are intimately connected with, it acts as a claustrophobic canvas for some fine work by lighting director Peter Mumford.

Ghosts caused controversy when it was written and Eyre’s adaptation reminds us why. Swift and brutal, you sense Ibsen’s hunger for life and the truth with a ferocious intensity. The heart-rending finale, where Helene faces a moral dilemma about the euthanasia of her son, could easily find you in tears.

Until 23 November 2013

www.almeida.co.uk

Photo by Hugo Glendinning

Written 4 October 2013 for The London Magazine

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“The Last Yankee” at The Print Room

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The Print Room has produced another quality show with a revival of Arthur Miller’s The Last Yankee. Casting the spotlight on a pair of husbands visiting their wives in a mental hospital, this short play combines the stories of two very different marriages with a social commentary on the American dream. The production, combining the young talent of director Cathal Cleary and an experienced cast, delivers a great deal in just over an hour.

LastYankee Matilda Zielger (Patricia Hamilton) and Kika Markham (Karen Frick) credit Ellie Kurttz133
Matilda Zielger and Kika Markham

The performances are ones to relish. Paul Hickey has the strongest part as the carpenter descendant of a founding father, generating sympathy for a proud working man whose efforts to make ends meet frustrate his wife Patricia (captivatingly played by Matilda Ziegler). Their fellow New Englanders are self-made Frick and reclusive Karen, who seem to have it all. Andy De La Tour and Kika Markham make a fantastic team in these roles, forming the play’s emotional backbone as an elderly couple facing frightening problems.

Miller’s idea that money and status have become too damagingly connected is forcefully written and respectfully presented. Arguably, too much has happened in America in the 20 years since the play was penned for these concerns to overly interest an audience in Notting Hill in 2013. But even when Miller’s allegory pushes against credibility (in particular the suggestion that Patricia is punishing her husband by having a break down), human drama is to the fore. The performances focus attention on the pain of mental illness and there are heart-rending moments that make it easy to recommend this show.

Until 5 October 2013

www.the-print-room.org

Photos by Ellie Kurttz

Written 16 September 2013 for The London Magazine

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“Hysteria” at Hampstead Theatre

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Hampstead Theatre’s new production of Terry Johnson’s Hysteria is a significant revival, not least because the writer himself directs it. One of the most successful plays to mine the rich seam of psychoanalysis, it imagines Freud on the couch. Like the man himself, it explores trauma and humour in inspired fashion. This is a work of big ideas that boggles the mind and attempts to explain deep truths.

The action is set down the road from the theatre in Maresfield Gardens, during Freud’s exile in London just before the Second World War. The father of the unconscious approaches his death with plenty of humour. Antony Sher is magnificent in the lead; Freud joins Stanley Spencer and Primo Levi as famous figures Sher has embodied so well. Elements of farce abound as he hides a naked woman in his closet from his Doctor (David Horovitch – excellent) and a visitor paying homage, none other than Salvador Dali.

The scenes of farce are a delight. Adrian Schiller’s “doolally” Dali is superb and his accent a triumph. But the play soon develops into a tense exploration of Freud’s methods and the foundation of his movement. In an emotional performance as the unwanted guest in his bathroom, Lydia Wilson highlights one of Freud’s failures, a case study he presumptuously reported as a success, and a change in his theories that she questions. Her interrogation of him reveals his doubts and the trauma in his own life.

Johnson’s play is full of clever touches and is a close study of his subject. It can’t have hurt the farce that Freud’s study was full of erotic sculptures but picking out the Surrealist painter’s visit is inspired. The final tableau, depicting Freud’s dream, realised by Lez Brotherson’s superbly ambitious set, rises to the challenge of a problem Johnson highlights – that depicting the unconscious diminishes it – but can still create fine theatre.

Until 12 October 2013

www.hampsteadtheatre.com

Photo by Alaistair Muir

Written 13 September 2013 for The London Magazine

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“Afraid of the Dark” at the Charing Cross Theatre

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The latest attempt to scare London theatregoers out of their seats is Afraid of the Dark, which opened last night at the Charing Cross Theatre. I chickened out of Ghost Stories but always recommend The Woman in Black, so consider myself open-minded about scary shows. Afraid of the Dark didn’t make me jump much – you wouldn’t bother daring someone to see it – but it’s perfectly diverting.

Intriguingly penned by Anonymous, the play’s various scenes of suspense circle around an old Vaudevillian magician who delights in scaring the wits out of a B-movie producer and his minions. Julian Forsyth takes on the role of ‘Master of Terror’, Dr Henry Charlier, with nice prestidigitation. And those he terrorises at the film studios (by giving them an envelope predicting their darkest fears) ham it up in appropriate fashion. Rebecca Blackstone’s screams are great and Mark Rice-Oxley tries hard to shed some light on his character’s motivation. None of the actors has that much to work with – characterisation isn’t the point after all – and nor is the plot trying to thread them together up to much. But there’s a good sense of humour here and some neat touches.

What impresses is the show’s production team. Effective light and sound, along with illusions from Darren Lang, reveal this to be a magic show that is entertaining rather than eerie. The stories are made the most of with technical expertise as well as some lo-fi touches that receive eager applause. Just like the movie producer looking for the next gimmick, Afraid of the Dark shows that cheap touches can work well. The real thrill comes from experienced director Ian Talbot who has more than earned his fee here. Consistently tense and swiftly paced, this play is more fun-filled than fear inducing.

Until 26 October 2013

Photo by Eric Richmond

Written 12 September 2013 for The London Magazine