All posts by Edward Lukes

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“A Long Day’s Journey Into Night” at the Apollo Theatre

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Director Antony Page’s new production of Eugene O’Neill’s A Long Day’s Journey Into Night marks a welcome return to the London stage by David Suchet. Taking the glorious role of tyrannical patriarch James Tyrone, successful actor and obsessive miser, Suchet’s performance is spectacular. In charge of a family haunted by the past, and with little hope for the future, Suchet isn’t just technically brilliant – listen as his American accent carefully slips into an Irish brogue – his stage presence is so commanding that it has you on the edge of your seat.

American Laurie Metcalf also returns to London, playing Tyrone’s wife Mary, and her performance is magnificent. Addicted to morphine, administered after the birth of her son, Metcalf’s lucidity wavers as she misguides her family and deals with her own demons. Sometimes painfully honest, at others simply a “ghost” inhabiting her own world, hers is a harrowing rendition.

Mary’s addiction serves to point out the failings of her whole family – the “fake pride and pretence” of her husband and her sons, finely performed by Trevor White and Kyle Soller. As the day becomes drink and drug fuelled, there’s “gloom in the air you could cut with a knife” but in this talented cast’s hands the play manages to remain tense despite its frequently delivered doom-laden conclusions.

To add tension to A Long Day’s Journey Into Night is no small achievement as the play isn’t exactly suspenseful: this long day starts out fraught and doesn’t get any better. O’Neill’s miserabilist masterpiece is a cruel, brutal, examination into family life. Page has cut down the time we spend with the Tyrones – just under three hours – but this is an intense experience that can be hard work. When “the old man” bemoans being typecast you can’t help but think of Suchet and Poirot but, happily, Suchet couldn’t be further from fiction – this is a job he is up to and does achingly well.

Until 18 August 2012

www.nimaxtheatres.com

Photo by Johan Persson

Written 13 April 2012 for The London Magazine

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“Anastasia” at Pushkin House

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When the Bolsheviks massacred the Tsar and his family, they knew that any trace of the corpses would cause uproar. They took dramatic measures – not just burning the bodies but covering them in acid. Therefore, when someone claiming to be Anastasia, one of the Tsar’s daughters, is presented to the world as a survivor it captivates imaginations worldwide. Marcelle Maurette’s play uses all the dramatic potential of the tale, presenting a moving human drama.

The play begins as a thriller, with conspirators plotting to present an unknown girl as the Princess. We see her cruel recruitment and then trial by interview as various members of the Russian émigré community challenge her identity.

Director and adapter Kate Sellers builds upon Maurette’s 1950s play in a satisfying manner by highlighting the character of Andrews Byron’s imposing Bounin, a Mephistophelean figure, full of menace. The fiction Bounin constructs, providing, “new manners, new clothes, new memories” make him a formidable impresario.

However, the triumph of the show is the role and performance of The Girl said to be Anastasia. Alice Bird takes the transformation from pauper to princess in her stride. The real achievement is presenting such an unstable enigma. The trauma experienced and the power of the dreams Anastasia provokes are dangerous to all. And there’s a twist you won’t see coming.

Sellers secures fine performances from her large cast and utilises them in tableaux that evoke harrowing scenes of murder. They are just a memory, part of the real Anastasia’s story, but seem so real to the “small world” of the Russians in exile. The production benefits greatly from its location: Pushkin House, a Russian cultural institute based in a beautiful townhouse in the elegant Bloomsbury Square, that is a perfect match for this sophisticated and intelligent play.

Until 21 April 2012

www.pushkinhouse.org

Photo by Jack Ladenburg

Written 3 April 2012 for The London Magazine

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“Mary Rose” at the Riverside Studios

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J M Barrie’s 1920 ghost story Mary Rose feels like a very Victorian affair, as it comes from an age when people investigated the paranormal ‘scientifically’ and theorised about “strange and inexplicable” matters. In Matthew Parker’s new production at the Riverside Studios, such ideas are presented well; the sound of radio waves and the flash of photography echo research into spectral presences. This is something different from the average chills and thrills ghost story and makes an interesting and refreshing change.

For our heroine Mary Rose, the world is full of ghosts but, even when they abduct her, they aren’t that scary. As the story travels through time, including a visit to his former home by Mary Rose’s son, we might get a goose bump, but this is really a story not of horror but about loss. Parker has a large group of mourning spirits accompanying the action. They sing and dance to composer Maria Haik Escudero’s score and even help to change the set – which is at least useful. The execution of the ensemble leaves much to be desired as the bizarre movements become so laboured that they break the spell of what could have been an intriguing idea.

When the ghosts are absent, Mary Rose styles itself as a gentle drawing-room comedy. Again there are problems with the older cast members playing this too broadly but the leads manage a slightly mocking tone well. Jessie Cave, of Harry Potter fame, brings her considerable talents to the challenging title role, embodying Mary Rose’s otherworldly quality wonderfully. Carsten Hayes plays her fiancé, who develops nicely from a “larky” young man into an abandoned husband. These performances are impressive. As are Parker’s admirable ambitions for the show. Despite its flaws, Mary Rose manages to rise above the level of a period curiosity.

Until 28 April 2012

www.riversidestudios.co.uk

Photo by Laura Harling

Written 2 April 2012 for The London Magazine

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“Uncle Vanya” at The Print Room

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It’s the fourth time that writer Mike Poulton has adapted Uncle Vanya and it seems that practice makes perfect. Chekhov’s masterful exploration of the human condition is presented boldly, directly and, most notably, with a great deal of humour. Artistic director of The Print Room Lucy Bailey takes charge with a deft touch that highlights the play’s rich complexity. And this tiny theatre has the coup of a stellar cast, led by the magnificent Iain Glenn in the title role. Glenn gives a riveting performance of immense variety and subtlety.

It’s the story of a disastrous summer sojourn. After Vanya’s beloved sister dies, he devotes himself to the professor she married. But Vanya realises the man, played in fine comic style by David Yelland, is a pompous fool while falling in love with his brother-in-law’s new wife. At the same time she starts an affair with his best friend, the excellent William Houston, who in turn is loved by Vanya’s niece Sonya. It’s no big surprise that none of them is happy.

The way Poulton plays with this Chekhovian cliché of misery is delightful. Everyone is bored and everyone is exhausted all the time. Even the roses are “mournful”.  All of the players are driven to drink and bemoan the “inexplicable” fact they are old (regardless of their carefully spaced ages). It’s enough to make anyone flee the countryside. But Chekhov and Poulton can see the funny side of boredom as it mixes with the most potent emotions of love and jealousy. Add a touch of madness and you have a strange combination of farce and tragedy that comes close to describing life itself.

The desperation within Uncle Vanya, stemming from a sense of wasted life, is conveyed movingly by Glenn, while Sonya’s self-sacrificing strategy comes across an illuminating performance from Charlotte Emmerson. Alongside the family servants’ acceptance of their lot, embodied in delicious cameos from David Shaw-Parker and Marlene Sidaway, Uncle Vanya becomes a painfully funny play full of faith and grief. In this production, Uncle Vanya is as big and as clever as ever and is not to be missed.

Until 28 April 2012

www.the-print-room.org

Photo by Sheila Burnett

Written 30 March 2012 for The London Magazine

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“The Duchess of Malfi” at The Old Vic

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The stage is set for high drama at The Old Vic with Jamie Lloyd’s new production of The Duchess of Malfi. Soutra Gilmour’s set excites at first, with accomplished lighting from James Farncombe, but it quickly tires. This gothic fantasia lacks subtlety and isn’t versatile enough – at one point it seems to snow inside a palace and, worse still, it has a cardboard cut-out feel that is unfortunately reflected in some of the performances.

Placing the focus on John Webster’s text, shouting the play’s complexity and trying to challenge our ideas about Jacobean revenge stories, Lloyd creates an exceptionally clear production. Clarity isn’t usually a fault but you can take anything to an extreme: much of the cast’s delivery becomes heavy and laboured. Lloyd is too good a director to make The Duchess of Malfi tedious but what should be a gut-wrenching ride of a play is too often halting.

There are important exceptions. Mark Bonnar plays the villainous Basola with great complexity. His treachery towards the Duchess and her steward (a fine performance from Tom Bateman), whom she has secretly married, is multilayered.

In the title role, Eve Best’s performance is never less than superb. It’s clear that for Lloyd her character is more than the victim of gruesome torture – she is a shinning light of humanity. Best is impressively natural, given the difficulty of the part. Believable as a real woman as well as a symbol of dignity, her performance saves the play.

Until 9 June 2012

www.oldvictheatre.com

Photo by Johan Persson

Written 29 March 2012 for The London Magazine

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“The King’s Speech” at Wyndham’s Theatre

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Director Adrian Noble has a hit on his hands with his new production of The King’s Speech at Wyndham’s Theatre. Buoyed by the success of the film and interest in all things royal, the play is an entertaining work with humour and a touching sentimentality. And, to warm the hearts of theatregoers, it isn’t an adaptation. Remember, please, that David Seidler’s play came first.

And what a fine, well crafted piece it is. We all know the story of George VI’s struggle with his speech impediment – and his therapist Lionel Logue is now a household name – but the clear plotting of The King’s Speech and the skilful re-imagining of the pre-war period still impresses. It isn’t inspired or adventurous stuff – the play seems too short to allow any journey of self-discovery for its characters to really take off – but Seidler knows his job and does it well.

The King’s Speech works superbly as theatre. Noble stages at speed and Anthony Ward’s revolving design, around a gigantic frame, not only echoes the play’s theme of presentation but also focuses attention on the acting. No fancy locations or fetishisation of props here – the piece is theatrical enough to rest confidently on its story.

Noble’s is a focused presentation that gets the most out of his cast. There are stirring cameos from Joss Ackland as George V and Ian McNeice as Winston Churchill. Charles Edwards gives a technically astounding performance as the stuttering royal, swearing, singing and dancing his way through the speeches that terrify him, and Jonathan Hyde is full of charm as the “familiar” mentor Logue who becomes almost part of the family. Lionel’s wife Myrtle is made into a major role with a stealing performance from Charlotte Randle. Desperate to return back to Australia but devoted to her husband’s ambition, Myrtle’s forceful stage presence highlights a fascinating triangle of affection that derives from this production’s proud theatricality.

Until 21 July 2012

Photo by Manuel Harlan

Written 28 March 2012 for The London Magazine

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“Filumena” at the Almeida Theatre

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Both the Almeida and its artistic director Michael Attenborough have well-deserved reputations for European classics. Their latest offering, Filumena, is a quality affair that both entertains and highlights the voice of its author, Eduardo De Filippo. In a tight, sprightly new version by Tanya Ronder, the show sparkles with wit and preserves an unusual edge. Filumena, a retired prostitute and the ultimate tart with a heart, plots and plans marriage with her long time partner Domenico in order to secure a future for her illegitimate sons. And what could be a cliché is enriched by the text and the direction to contain thrilling elements of the will-they-won’t-they kind and a moral questioning that runs through to its satisfyingly sweet end.

Clive Wood plays Domenico, an ageing lothario with a touch of Tony Soprano and a patronym Filumena fancies for herself. We shouldn’t like him but we do. Part of the appeal is his relationship with Filumena. Wood does a fantastic show of both frustration and fidelity. Because of his bullying tactics, it’s great to see him taunted, yet the dilemmas Filumena forces upon him make him much more than just a stereotype. As Filumena chillingly invites him to “laugh while you still can, because soon you won’t remember how,” his machismo mask slips just long enough for us to see his complexity – treading this fine line is a marvellous achievement from Wood.

Wood has a worthy sparring partner. Samantha Spiro brings alive any production she stars in and in Filumena she excels yet again. Formidable and frightening, she’s a shrew who refuses to be tamed and yet conveys a sense of vulnerability, presenting her character’s tumultuous, potentially hackneyed journey in a way that feels real. It’s not just funny, it’s also engaging, as we band behind Filumena praying she gets her way. Attenborough’s pacing is essential here, giving us time to catch our breath and think. But never long enough to fall out of love with Filumena. Domenico knows he is with someone special but that he has to take care. “Anyone who has anything to do with you needs to be wide awake,” he says. Given Spiro’s magnificent performance, it’s true that you won’t want to take your eyes off the stage.

Until 12 May 2012

www.almeida.co.uk

Photo by Hugo Glendinning

Written 24 March 2012 for The London Magazine

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“Sweeney Todd” at the Adelphi Theatre

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Arriving in London from rave reviews at the Chichester Festival Theatre, Jonathan Kent’s production of Sweeney Todd is the must-see show of the summer. Arguably Stephen Sondheim’s masterpiece, certainly his most famous work, it’s a musical that’s as intellectually stimulating as it is approachable.

Kent and his team make the most of each show-stopping number: almost to the production’s detriment as the evening is in danger of turning into a collection of hits rather than flowing as the excellent book by Hugh Wheeler intends it to. To be fair this really isn’t Kent’s fault – the audience response is rapturous, the atmosphere fantastic.

There is plenty to applaud. Michael Ball is remarkable in the title role. His transformation into the demon barber of Fleet Street makes him unrecognisable. More to the point, he gets to show what a fine actor he can be and remind us what a great voice he has. He does justice to Sondheim’s challenging score and embraces Sweeney’s tragic predicament in a stark manner that avoids camp.

Sweeney’s partner in crime, Mrs Lovett, is a role to kill for and Imelda Staunton has a great deal of fun with it. Her comedy is spot on and her voice strong. In love with Sweeney, Lovett’s descent into crime is swift, inevitable and wickedly funny, giving the production great pace. Staunton’s is a cracking performance that never slows and continually impresses.

Several recent productions of Sweeney Todd have been performed by opera companies reverent towards the score and resourced in a manner you might miss here – the chorus seems small and at times unsatisfying. There’s also a suspicion that Anthony Ward’s set feels a little lost on the large Adelphi stage; Sweeney’s London hardly teems with people, even if Mark Henderson’s lighting design creates atmosphere in abundance. But such cavils certainly won’t stop you enjoying the evening. This isn’t the perfect production of Sweeney Todd but it’s within a whisker of it.

Until 22 September 2012

Photo by Johan Persson

Written 23 March 2012 for The London Magazine

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“One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest” at the Lost Theatre

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An ambitious production of One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest at the Lost Theatre in Wandsworth gives us cause to celebrate the 50th anniversary of Ken Kesey’s novel. The story of life in an insane asylum, with its charismatic anti-hero McMurphy, is a stirring battle between the individual and the institution, which director Paul Taylor-Mills production tackles commendably.

Sean Buchanan takes on the role of McMurphy made famous by Jack Nicholson in the 1975 film. Nicholson’s performance has only this week been named the best ever in cinema by Total Film magazine but Buchanan doesn’t seem one bit daunted – his energetic delivery as the “mad dog” is commanding and the inspiration he offers his fellow patients convincing.

There is some fine work from this large cast. Bradley Rhys Williams plays Dale Harding, the president of the patients’ council, cogent and waspish by turns, and Lee Colley is deeply moving as the stammering Billy Bibbit, both cowered into submission by Annabel Capper’s formidable Nurse Ratched. The intensity of Bobby Bulloch’s catatonic Ruckly deserves a mention as does the attention to detail shown in Paul Cleveland’s obsessive Cheswick and Richard Vorster’s paranoid Scanlon.

During large group scenes, Taylor-Mills’ direction excels and One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest really excites. This show is full of intelligent touches, including Tom Munday’s projection used to great effect when Dwayne Washington’s Chief Bromden tells his story. Washington makes the most of his role but his part is the play’s biggest problem –sadly, common to many adaptations, Dale Wasserman’s script is a pale adaptation of Kesey’s masterpiece. Ultimately, despite the production’s valiant efforts, the best way to celebrate this anniversary would be to read the book again.

Until 31 March 2012

www.losttheatre.co.uk

Photo by Daniel Joseph Serra

Written 22 March 2012 for The London Magazine

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“Moon on a Rainbow Shawl” at the National Theatre

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The National Theatre’s revival of Errol John’s 1957 play, Moon on a Rainbow Shawl, is only the fourth time the work has been seen in London. Michael Buffong’s production is, therefore, an opportunity not to be missed: this is a good old-fashioned play with a cracking plot and an authentic voice that ensures it still sounds fresh.

A group of Trinidadian neighbours, each with their own dreams and dramas, struggle to make the most of their lives. Their humble stories have a universal resonance and the characters are wonderfully drawn. Moon on a Rainbow Shawl has its brutal moments, but is always deeply humane, and finds the humour in its protagonists’ harsh conditions.

None of the characters is a saint but each has some heroic spark. Ephraim, a trolley bus driver desperate to better himself, and Sophia, a struggling matriarch devoted to her bright young daughter, are remarkable roles and Danny Sapani and Martina Laird give fantastic performances. Ephraim’s rage when confronted is magnificent as is Sophia’s collapse when events escalate and she succumbs to exhausted despair.

It’s impossible not to note the magnificent Jenny Jules who plays Sophia’s arch-foe Mavis – their battles are legendary, their squabbling, as Ephraim points out, comes from living like “hogs”. Beneath its exotic location, this is a kitchen sink drama but the politics never detract from the emotions on stage.

The action is plentiful and Buffong’s production admirably physical. Unfortunately, Soutra Gilmour’s set feels restrictive, wasting rather than exploiting The Cottesloe auditorium’s wonderful intimacy. And the set causes problems with sight lines too – don’t try to scrimp on restricted view tickets for this one. Initially impressive, the production would have worked better in a larger space. Staging Moon on a Rainbow Shawl elsewhere would have given more people the chance to see the work – make sure you don’t miss out.

Until 9 June 2012

www.nationaltheatre.org.uk

Photo by Jonathan Kennan

Written 19 March 2012 for The London Magazine