All posts by Edward Lukes

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“Greenland” at the National Theatre

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Over population is just one of the huge problems facing the natural world. It’s an irony that the National Theatre’s new play about the environment, Greenland, suffers from a similar issue. With four writers having contributed, the play is a disaster in itself.

Moira Buffini, Matt Charman, Penelope Skinner and Jack Thorne have all attempted to address the issue of climate change. The idea of making Greenland a collaborative event is ambitious, and I guess all aimed at inspiring a Big Conversation reflected in a series of after show events. The writer’s stories are supposedly interwoven to scope out the effects of climate change and how we react to the threat. Unfortunately the stories don’t so much interweave as unravel. Even worse, none of them is that interesting.

The future, it seems, is not just bleak, but boring. Director Bijan Sheibani paces his production far too quickly. Maybe sleight of hand started to look like a good idea during rehearsals, but the problems of this script aren’t going to disappear just because you race through it. There’s quite a bag of tricks on display: wind machines, a rain curtain, and plenty of things dropping dramatically on to the stage. The National Theatre’s always excellent production department is to be praised, but for hard work rather than results.

Nobody doubts the environment is an urgent issue but there’s always the danger that you are talking to the converted. One of Greenland‘s faults is to not just preach to the choir but to shout at it. And shout in a rather unpleasant tone. It feels as if the National Theatre’s audience is to blame for the world’s woes with its greed (mostly for coffee) and its ignorance (particular concerning the capital of Mali). Even worse, Greenland is remarkably uninformative. You will learn nothing new here and that is shocking omission.

A large cast wonder haplessly around the stage and can do little to save things. Only Amanda Lawrence gives a stand-out performance and manages to bring some humour and warmth to proceedings. And it’s good to see some young talent on the stage, Isabella Laughland and Sam Swann deal ably with their roles as young activists and it’s a shame they don’t have more to do.

There is little hope in Greenland. The aimed-for humour points a finger at activists and the complacent but only hits home ironically – “this eco stuff is making you unhappy,” says an exasperated mother to her campaigning daughter. We know just how she feels. The prevailing feeling is one of anger, justified but hardly constructive. The preaching tone taken might make you angry, too. But, sadly, for the wrong reasons.

Until 2 April 2011

www.nationaltheatre.org.uk

Photo by Helen Warner

Written 3 February 2011 for The London Magazine

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“Twisted Tales” at the Lyric Hammersmith Theatre

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Roald Dahl’s Twisted Tales is a selection of stories, told to a group of Haywards Heath commuters by a stranger who joins them on their journey. Skilfully adapted by Jeremy Dyson, of The League of Gentlemen fame, they mix suspense with the macabre and, as one would expect, all of them have a twist at the end.

The ensemble cast play a variety of parts as the stories change. Selina Griffiths excels in this diversity, and Trevor White, who plays The Stranger who knows all the denouements except one, is deliciously creepy.

What Dahl knew, and what this team preserves in adaptation, is that “imagination is a ferocious beast”, so it’s best to let the audience do a lot of the work themselves. The bare aesthetic of the design by Naomi Wilkinson is a highly effective element in director Polly Findlay’s atmospheric production. An expert knowledge of how suspense works creates great theatrical moments – sometimes coming from high drama, such as a bet with high stakes, at other times centred around a small domestic detail, such as drinking a cup of tea.

There is plenty of humour in the production but it might not be dark enough for some. Many of the laughs come from period details – that surely wasn’t Dahl’s intention, and it can dissipate tension. But these giggles about accents and class don’t detract from the enjoyment of the evening as a whole. If only commuting was always this entertaining.

Until 26 February 2011

www.lyric.co.uk

Photo by Alastair Muir

Written 25 January 2011 for The London Magazine

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“Priscilla Queen of the Desert” at the Palace Theatre

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Priscilla Queen of the Desert has been running in London for nearly two years and, presumably on the grounds that you can never have too much of a good thing, the Palace Theatre has now launched Priscilla Parties. There are drinks before the show to get you in the mood, with goodie bags containing feather boas and specially commissioned cakes. Perhaps best of all, these packages give a substantial reduction on the price of seat.

I feel compelled to declare now that Priscilla isn’t really my cup of tea. Any show that sells a cocktail looking like a slush puppy is likely to alarm rather than excite and feather boas are not part of my wardrobe. But it’s hard not to enter the spirit of things when fellow audience members are clearly having such a good time.

The story of three drag queens who travel across Australia in a bus has a plot so thin it seems to have been abandoned en route. A juke-box musical format blasts out pop songs everyone will know incredibly loudly and we are treated to a series of dance and lip sync routines from an energetic cast.

Priscilla is hugely impressive on a technical level. Simon Phillips directs with military precision, and all the praise you have heard about Tim Chappel and Lizzy Gardiner’s costumes is well deserved. But this feels more like a tribute show than anything genuinely theatrical, and slight attempts at ironic appropriation never quite work.

The talented cast certainly doesn’t have the time to form an emotional connection with the audience. Don Gallagher, as the ageing transsexual Bernadette, manages well, but desperate stabs at sentimentality fail for his colleagues, whose characters simply drown in their sequins.

Drag just doesn’t have the charge that it used to. Priscilla can be brash and beautiful but it can’t really be bold. The  manner of cabaret currently so fashionable in other venues has performers that abandon impersonating women to flirt with fantasy and obscenity. When Priscilla’s players reminisce about the past in a flashback scene, the show excels. When they try to be edgy, it fails to convince. This may disappoint you, but the chances are you’ll be having too much fun to notice.

Until 31 December 2011

Written 25 January 2011 for The London Magazine

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“Double Falsehood” at the Union Theatre

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The Union Theatre in Southwark gives us the opportunity to see a ‘lost’ play by Shakespeare. Double Falsehood has been declared by the Arden Shakespeare to be a late collaboration with John Fletcher, and director Phil Willmott’s fascinating production provides us with the opportunity to decide if they are right.

The debate over authorship rages: the play has plenty of Shakespearean cross-dressing and a villain that seems familiar. However, the poetry is weak and there is a distinct lack of humour. But what does make the evening exciting is the chance to watch a ‘Shakespeare’ without knowing the plot! For that reason I’ll avoid any spoilers so you can see for yourself how gripping the story really is.

As Willmott has stated, academic speculation surrounding the text is less interesting than whether or not Double Falsehood works as theatre. He presents the play clearly and embraces some melodramatic vignettes that are compelling. Deciding to set the play near a monastery has some hairy moments – it can feel a little Carry on Cloisters at times, but the denouement feels all the more miraculous for its religious connotations.

There is a super cast to watch. Richard Franklin is suitably dignified as the Duke Angelo. His diabolical son Henrique is played by Adam Redmore with appropriate mania. Henrique’s victims are many (there’s more than a double falsehood going on here) and include the convincingly heroic Julio (Gabriel Vick) and courageous Leonora (Emily Plumtree).

The main victim is Violante (the clue is in her name). Jessie Lilley makes a professional debut to be proud of but the role itself poses problems for a modern audience. We are more or less comfortable with the outmoded beliefs of Shakespeare’s time, but Violante’s decisions take us too far. She certainly isn’t the kind of woman Shakespeare usually harps on about.

But join the debate – at the Union Theatre and online (the play’s website has a guestbook for your opinions). With the RSC preparing its version of the text (to be staged as Cardenio in April) the talk isn’t going to stop anytime soon.

Until 12 February 2011

Photo by Scott Rylander

Written 24 January 2011 for The London Magazine

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“Becky Shaw” at the Almeida Theatre

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It’s too early in the year to say that Becky Shaw will turn out to be the funniest play of 2011, but it’s a tempting predication to make. Suffice to say, Becky Shaw is the funniest play you will have seen in a long time.

Director Peter DuBois has travelled from America with the show. You can tell he knows the piece inside out – the direction is as sharp as the lines: clean, taut and getting the best out of this wonderfully witty script. Gina Gionfriddo’s tale of social mores and her heroine’s impact on the lives of one family is packed full of great lines. But as well as sharp social observation, Gionfriddo’s artfully unfolding plot opens up a delicious debate about love in modern times.

The cast seems to be having as much fun as the audience. A magisterial matriarch, played by Haydn Gwynne on fantastic form, has raised her children with an eye to the pragmatic. The ironic result is that her daughter Suzanna (Anna Madeley) spouts the kind of psychobabble we all love to laugh at and ends up married to an indie rock kid. This is an exquisite parody and Vincent Montuel’s wide-eyed approach makes his character’s earnestness hilarious: this youth’s so sensitive that “pornography makes him cry”.

Meanwhile Suzanna is also under the influence of her adopted brother Max whose maxim is that, “Love is a happy by-product of use”. Setting him up on a blind date comes with the understated warning that, “his coarse delivery belies a rich interior life”. There is much to dislike in Max and at times it’s a joy to hate him, but he’s so sharp he gains your admiration. This is a wonderful performance from David Wilson Barnes, close to perfection and a privilege to watch.

Into the family mix comes Becky. Inspired by Thackeray’s heroine in Vanity Fair, she opens a lid on the other characters’ damaged lives and throws in her own neuroses as well. Manipulative or just victimised? It’s up to you, but Daisy Haggard’s performance is so achingly funny you can’t help warm to her. For all the havoc she causes, we are grateful. We love Becky Shaw.

www.almeida.co.uk

Until 5 March 2011

Photo by Hugo Glendinning

Written 21 January 2011 for The London Magazine

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“Tiger Country” at the Hampstead Theatre

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Having a playwright direct their own work might set off sirens – their proximity to the text risks a self-indulgent treatment. But it is a false alarm at the Hampstead Theatre, where Nina Raine faultlessly breathes life into Tiger Country. The vision she has for her work has proved contagious, transforming the auditorium and empowering an ensemble cast to perform superbly.

Raine is known for her extensive research. She spent three months with doctors and nurses to prepare for this new play about the NHS. The politics are subtle, the drama of surgery intense, and the focus is the impact the job has on its practitioners.

Emily, a just qualified Senior House Doctor, encounters expressive dysphasia (‘when you know what to say but you can’t say it’), and not just in her patients. Ruth Everett skilfully portrays this eager intern, on whom the pressure of her decisions starts to weigh physically.

The internal politics of the NHS also take their toll. Vashti, a Registrar, faces the dilemma of giving up her career path when a member of her family is mistreated in the hospital. Thusitha Jayasundera is wonderful in the role. Like many of the surgeons she seems a most unsympathetic character, but her bedside manner reveals a moving, tender side.

The dangers surrounding the doctor’s decisions mean they live in ‘tiger country’ – always on the edge. Pip Carter and Henry Lloyd-Hughes show this tension admirably. With an eye to class, and an obsession with hierarchy, these medics are forced to role play and sometimes behave like animals; it’s a fight for them to retain their humanity and a sense of gratitude for life.

Raine’s script in infinitely richer that your average hospital drama. Her insights make the play a rare beast indeed – informative. Yet it is the lives of these well-drawn characters from which the drama radiates. There’s enough sex and death here for any soap. This is Casualty on steroids. Alongside its other admirable qualities, Tiger Country is hugely entertaining.

Until 5 February 2011

www.hampsteadtheatre.com

Photo by Robert Workman

Written 20 January 2011 for The London Magazine

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“As You Like It” at The Roundhouse

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Nowadays, productions of As You Like It are often sensitive to the political content of the play. Duke Frederick is a tyrant, after all, and the Forest of Arden a liminal space where all kinds of conventions are negotiated. Michael Boyd’s production at The Roundhouse takes on board and enforces these ideas. The strength of his vision results in an As You Like It that is as startling as it is entertaining.

It’s snowing in this Forest of Arden. This arcadia is populated by the dispossessed. Heading up a fugitive court with an edge of desperation about it, the exiled Duke Ferdinand (Clarence Smith) has a harrowed look and Jaques’ melancholy makes a lot of sense. Boyd directs his cast towards a deadpan delivery that modern comic sensibilities will appreciate. With Forbes Masson’s Tim Minchin-inspired Jaques this really pays off. Masson’s is a terrific performance – direct, deep and very funny.

Boyd’s treatment is both realistic and high pitched. The court seems an almost gothic place. The best wrestling scene I have ever witnessed is a bloody match between Orlando (Jonjo O’Neill) and Charles (David Carr), who look more like cage fighters than gentlemen at sport. And vegetarians might wish to linger at the bar after the interval in order to miss a rabbit being skinned on stage.

Spring comes to Tom Piper’s minimal design, as his wall of squares opens up to allow shoots of greenery. Not just the auditorium, but also the whole of the Roundhouse is bedecked with Orlando’s verses. It’s an idea the RSC is expanding on with its Adelaide Road project: commissioning the poet Aoife Mannix to conduct writing workshops around the stories of Camden residents, and a promenade on the 14 May along the street that connects The Roundhouse with the RSC’s other London home, The Hampstead Theatre.

Back in Boyd’s forest, things become increasingly enchanting. There is always an edge to this Arden: the dreams and fantastic beasts are frightening, Sophie Russell’s Audrey is hilarious but a little cruel and Richard King’s Touchstone plays too close to the edge for comfort. Yet what romance the play contains bursts out and the real joy of the evening is Katy Stephens’ Rosalind. Hers is a star turn that makes the whole play revolve around her character. Rosalind’s intelligence is combined with a giddy energy in an enormously physical performance that is not to be missed.

As You Like It plays in rep until 5 February 2011

www.rsc.org.uk

Photo by Ellie Kurttz

Written 18 January 2011 for The London Magazine

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“The Painter” at the Arcola Theatre

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The much-acclaimed Arcola theatre has relocated closer to Dalston’s refurbished train stations, and it opens its barn-like doors with The Painter, a new play by Rebecca Lenkiewicz. The painter in question is Turner, but biography is really just a primer for Lenkiewicz’s ambitious and engaging look at women, art and society.

With the smell of fresh plaster filling the former paint factory, it’s all very East End art scene. The temptation might be to see Turner as some kind of early YBA, but Lenkiewicz is too clever for this. She manipulates chronology and uses modern idioms to abstract Turner’s obsession with creativity, his battles with patrons and the relationships in his private life.

Toby Jones is excellent in the title role. Under Mehmet Ergen’s skilled direction he gives a refined, understated performance. His character’s complexity is clear, but Jones allows those who perform alongside him to shine.

We encounter three women who seem dangerously close to cliché. A young tart with a heart (Jenny Cole), a widow looking for a new husband (Niamh Cusack), and an overbearing, insane mother (Amanda Boxer) whose fate, like many an awkward woman, is to be institutionalised. Despite the danger of caricature, all three performances are stunning, the actresses bringing out the subtlety of Lenkieweicz’s characters. It’s a close call as to who succeeds most completely. I go for Boxer, who shows unbearable cruelty to her son and then painful lucidity about her mental decline. She edged me to tears.

Lenkiewicz writes taught, short scenes that command attention. All are impeccably handled by Mehmet: offstage screams are chilling and Jim Bywater plays Turner’s father so endearingly that a scene of only a few moments showing his collapse is a sharp, brutal shock.

Unfortunately such brevity doesn’t always serve. In particular Turner’s fumbling lectures at the Royal Academy need elaboration to clarify the connection between the painter’s life and art. As an essay in sublime abstraction Turner himself would probably have approved of Lenkiewicz’s work, but her effort ultimately feels slim. Taking Turner’s work and using it as a palimpsest is a fascinating prospect, but the result is a shadow that is sometimes too faint.

www.arcolatheatre.com

Until 12 February 2011

Photo by Simon Annand

Written 17 January 2011 for The London Magazine

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“Julius Caesar” at The Roundhouse

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In a week when political assassination is once more in the news, Julius Caesar might seem more relevant to a contemporary audience than ever. The RSC’s production at The Roundhouse could never presage such current events, but the evening gives us plenty to think about. Director Lucy Bailey thrills by her engagement with history.

Lucy Bailey’s Rome is a bloody place. In the opening scene we see Romulus and Remus wrestling to the death – a bloodlust is the city’s heritage from its founders. Working with designer William Dudley and inspired by the recent Rome TV show, Bailey intelligently toys with our notions of the Romans as civilised. Video projections increase the stage presence of the Plebeians (a character in their own right) to great effect – this is a dangerous mob that rules the Empire on a whim.

Greg Hicks is a natural Caesar. Even eclectically garbed as some kind of generic Barbarian, he is commanding enough to cast a necessary shadow over the play. The evening’s highlight is Darrell D’Silva’s Mark Antony. A “masker and a reveller”, he seems drunk on grief and then violence. Reminiscent of Oliver Reed, it is a captivating performance that will make you want to see him reprise the role in Antony and Cleopatra, also part of this year’s season.

However, Julius Caesar is really the story of Brutus and Cassius. Here Brutus (Sam Troughton) is something like a monk; he is dressed like one and even gestures a benediction in a performance that invokes the play’s religious context. To bring complexity to their coalition, John Mackay attempts to make Cassius more than just a Machiavellian figure. Both are interesting ideas and yet, while there are moments of moving intimacy between the conspirators, both strategies fail to hold interest.

All the cast of Julius Caesar are martial. The characters are at home in Bailey’s world and her direction makes sense of the play’s long combat scenes, invariably presented with clarity and dynamism. Yet they disappoint, and we are hard pushed to share the opinion that Brutus was the “noblest Roman of them all”. What should be his tragedy may interest us but ultimately fails to move us emotionally.

Julius Caesar plays in rep until 5 February 2011

www.rsc.org.uk

Photo by Ellie Kurttz

Written 11 January 2011 for The London Magazine

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“The Winter’s Tale” at The Roundhouse

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The Royal Shakespeare Company’s new London season arrives with the announcement of a five-year partnership with Camden’s Roundhouse. Artistic director Michael Boyd is enamoured of the venue, describing it as both intimate and epic, and the transfer of the Stratford production of The Winter’s Tale helps us to share his excitement.

David Farr’s direction makes the most of the specially constructed thrust stage, which mirrors the company’s current home in Stratford. The format has clearly focused Farr, and his direction is startlingly clear. Jon Bausor’s design takes inspiration from the ballads of Shakespeare’s day, cleverly enforcing the telling of this winter tale and decking Sicilia and Bohemia with so much paper we might feel we are  enveloped in the Forest of Arden.

Greg Hicks’ mellifluous voice is always a delight, and he plays the jealous Leontes with a restraint that marks his maturity. Kelly Hunter is his victimised wife Hermione, tackling the role with a moving humility. Also of note in this industrious ensemble are the appealing young lovers who become the focus of the play’s redemptive power: Florizel and Perdita (Tunji Kasim and Samantha Young). It would be refreshing to encounter the role of the Young Shepherd without a Welsh accent, but at least Gruffudd Glyn’s moniker indicates he is entitled to the part, and he puts in a great comic turn.

Farr’s direction enforces the judicial themes within The Winter’s Tale, drawing the audience in to play the role of arbiter. The moving text’s complex moral exploration and emotional impact are developed wonderfully, and the staging makes escaping into the fantasy of The Winter’s Tale easy. It all bodes well for the RSC’s future at The Roundhouse.

The Winter’s Tale plays until 1 January 2011. The RSC’s London season is at The Roundhouse until 4 February 2011.

www.rsc.org.uk

Photo by Alessandro Evengelista

Written 17 December 2010 for The London Magazine