All posts by Edward Lukes

2011

“The New World Order” at Shoreditch Town Hall

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Promenade theatre has been fashionable for several years now. Theatre practitioners often want us to leave our comfy auditoriums and test an audience’s dedication by taking it to new and often less salubrious locations. It’s best to be agnostic about the practice but Hydrocracker has a production of five short Harold Pinter plays, presented as The New World Order, which is worth going a long way for.

Certainly, at least as far as Shoreditch Town Hall. After being frisked and given identity cards, the audience is taken to meeting rooms and then travels down to the building’s scruffy basement, shovelling around its seemingly labyrinthine rooms. The constant theme is Pinter’s nightmarish vision of a state slipping into totalitarianism. The short plays unfold with increasing violence and fit well with the promenade format, but that is the only comfortable thing about the evening – this is powerful political theatre.

Whether The New World Order is more forceful because of this format is an open question. Director Ellie Jones does a superb job: not only in marshalling the audience (although it must help to have a cast playing soldiers who can shout at people) but also in maintaining tension, atmosphere and linking the scenes. Nonetheless, the complicity with the soldiers that is hinted at can’t really grow. You are given the chance to try and help one of those held prisoner but few will, not because they are unfeeling, but for fear of disrupting the performance. Putting actors into the audience never really works – you can sense them a mile off! And while the often incredibly close proximity to the action is intense, it can be intimidating which, sadly, stifles Pinter’s savage humour.

Jones’ direction is impressive because she appreciates the urgency of Pinter’s late political writing. As a recent production at The Print Room demonstrated, these plays are strong enough to be performed with minimal sets, and Jones anchors her work in the script, bringing out a stringent performance from Hugh Ross, who plays the terrifying Minister of Cultural Integrity, and a small but remarkable cameo from Jane Wood. And Jones has a final trick up her sleeve: as one of the victims is released, the audience follows him into the night. This denies the cast its well-deserved applause, yet provokes thought on the long journey home.

Until 11 December 2011

www.barbican.org.uk

Photo by Matthew Andrews

Written 21 November 2011 for The London Magazine

2011

“Juno and the Paycock”at the National Theatre

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This new production of Sean O’Casey’s Juno and the Paycock is the first collaboration between the National and Dublin’s Abbey Theatre. It’s the quality affair you might expect – a classic play with an impressive cast that is scrupulously directed.

It is the story of the Boyle family, poverty stricken, living in an Ireland divided by political turmoil. O’Casey’s husband and wife team, known by their mythically inspired nicknames, are such charismatic characters that their plight packs a real punch. Their children, Mary and Jerry, also have demons to battle with, fighting for independence in very different ways and subtly conveying problems O’Casey’s society faced. The family’s troubles seem about to be ended by an unexpected financial windfall – but circumstances and politics catch up with them.

The strongest aspect of the production is the performances on offer. Ciaran Hinds’ Jack Boyle really is the magnificent peacock-like character his appellation claims – strutting around the stage and fooling nobody except himself. Ronan Raftery’s excellent portrayal of his son, broken physically and emotionally, couldn’t be a stronger counterpoint. O’Casey’s female roles are cherished amongst actresses and both Sinéad Cusack and Clare Dunne are superb. Dunne plays the daughter, bringing out the beauty in O’Casey’s language. With Cusack, this poetry becomes a prayer as the family disintegrates around her.

Bob Crowley’s design reflects the squalor Dublin’s magnificent Georgian terraces were reduced to in the 1920s, but we have little sense of the overcrowding suffered from. The set seems overblown and the same could be said for the humour; there are moments in Juno and the Paycock where conditions don’t seem that bad – the camaraderie O’Casey hints at is occasionally overplayed. But, for the most part Howard Davies direction is assured – the plot speeds along, embracing the thrilling story line, and the tragedy of the play is deeply moving. If Davies’ impeccably careful work disappoints it is really because it contains no surprises. This is a conservative affair that is easy to respect but difficult to fall in love with.

Until 26 February 2012

www.nationaltheatre.org.uk

Photo by Mark Douet

Written 18 November 2011 for The London Magazine

2011

“Rock of Ages” at the Shaftesbury Theatre

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It’s the aim of the critic to provide an objective, knowledgeable appraisal. With Rock of Ages, a new musical at the Shaftesbury Theatre, that ideal is a tough ask when you can’t abide the music involved. Originally produced on Broadway, this tribute show to 80s rock music recycles some of the worst songs I’ve ever heard, ‘boasting’ hits from Bon Jovi, Guns N’ Roses, Europe and the like. Its music so terrible that it doesn’t even qualify as a guilty pleasure. If you disagree – then grab yourself a ticket, because this is the night out for you.

What I can do is spot the talent that has gone into making Rock of Ages: precise direction from Kristin Hanggi, outrageously fun costumes from Gregory Gale and a good book from Chris D’Arienzo. The stars are Justin Lee Collins and Shayne Ward, whose fans will no doubt be pleased to see them, but the real focus is Simon Lipkin, whose wonderful performance shows off his musical theatre credentials and puts him centre stage.

The idea behind Rock of Ages is sound enough. D’Arienzo identifies just how camp this genre can be and sees a connection between it and musical theatre. Grafting the songs on to a traditional plot, which includes young lovers and putting on a show, there is a tongue-in-cheek feel that you can’t help but like. And yet it fails to gel. Rock and dance don’t mix, so Kelly Devine’s efforts at choreography look odd. And while rock might be camp, you can’t push the parallel too far – true camp has an edge of seriousness and the parody here deflates it.

Rock of Ages goes to the very heart of what is good and bad about tribute musicals. It’s light hearted, high spirited and fun… but if the songs aren’t your bag, no matter how much some people are enjoying themselves (and a great many really seem to be), you will be left feeling baffled.

Photo by Tristram Kenton

Written 14 November 2011 for The London Magazine

2011

“Hamlet” at the Young Vic

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There have been lots of Hamlets: it seems that the character is infinite in variety as well as faculty, and it’s easy to imagine the pressure to come up with something different. Director Ian Rickson’s angle at the Young Vic Theatre is to stage the play in a lunatic asylum, an insane idea that not only adds nothing to the play, but actually severely detracts from it.

Of all the different productions of Hamlet one can think of, one constant remains intact – the equivocation concerning Hamlet’s sanity that is so central to the text. Not only is this dramatic, it goes to the heart of Shakespeare’s search for Hamlet’s humanity. Rickson simply abandons this question: his Hamlet is an inmate. Clearly schizophrenic (he adopts the persona of his father), he is reduced from an everyman to a madman

Straitjacketing the text into the concept produces inconsistencies too numerous to mention, from the trivial (it’s an odd asylum that lets its inmates play with swords) to the essential – if Hamlet is merely delusional, why is a supernatural presence suggested anyway? If you can remain calm in the face of all this you might enjoy the production’s attempts to get around these problems, albeit problems of its own making. Jeremy Herbert’s design is impressive – it even includes a pre-show ‘tour’ where the audience walks backstage to acquaint itself with the institution. It’s big – but it isn’t clever. Indeed, by the end of the show it is quite literally dumb with Fortinbras reduced to hand signals to reveal Rickson’s final ‘twist’.

Some benefit from all this stupidity: Michael Gould is convincing as a more prominent than usual Polonius, and Vinette Robinson is moving as a Ophelia who seems at home in this madhouse. But the majority of characters suffer: the move from King to councillor is too much of a demotion for the role of Claudius, and James Clyde is wasted in the part, while Gertrude is reduced to a spaced-out victim – it isn’t clear if she is an inmate or not.

The greatest loss though is Michael Sheen in the title role. A talented actor, always magnetic on stage, it is clear from his powerful soliloquies what a great Hamlet he could have been. Trapped inside Ian Rickson’s concept, he is denied the chance. This is the real tragedy of the evening.

Until 21 January 2011

www.youngvic.org

Written 11 November 2011 for The London Magazine

2011

“Collaborators” at the National Theatre

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Having welcomed Danny Boyle earlier this year, the National Theatre now stages a new play written by his frequent collaborator John Hodge. A fantasia inspired by Mikhail Bulgakov’s play about Stalin, commissioned for the dictator’s 60th birthday, Collaborators is a romp around censorship and responsibility.

Working in the round for the first time in many years Nicholas Hytner directs with zeal. Designer Bob Crowley’s constructivist inspired set doubles as the Bulgakov home and a bunker under the Kremlin where the writer and tyrant meet. The theatre-loving Stalin can’t resist helping out. “Leave the slave labour to me,” he says, offering himself as amanuensis, then taking up the pen in person – on the condition that Bulgakov has a turn at running the country. It’s a glib allusion, but performed with such brilliance that its questionable taste is pushed to the back of your mind.

The wonderful Alex Jennings is Bulgakov, a “smack head groin doc turned smut scribe,” as Hodge brilliantly describes him. Jennings brings every nuance out of the role showing convincing relationships with Jacqueline Defferary, who plays his wife, and Mark Addy, who excels as the Secret Service man tasked with directing the play. Addy’s changing attitude to his artistic challenge, and the snippets of the play we get to see performed so skilfully by Perri Snowdon and Michael Jenn, are a real joy.

There aren’t many stage actors that can rival Jennings. But Simon Russell Beale is among them. His despot with a West Country burr is a hilarious and chilling creation – one who manipulates the audience as skilfully as his character plays with the writer.

Collaborators suffers slightly from the brevity that is also frequently its virtue: Hodge’s writing is immediate and clear but, as the drama increases, the play itself is not always dark or detailed enough to satisfy. Nonetheless, Collaborators is very funny indeed and, with its stellar cast, is an unmissable winter highlight.

Until 31 March 2012

www.nationaltheatre.org.uk

Photo by Johan Persson

Written 8 November 2011 for The London Magazine

2011

“Backbeat” at the Duke of York’s Theatre

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Thinking of Backbeat as The Beatles musical is inevitable shorthand. But it is unfortunate and misleading. This is the story of the group at their formation, when the Fab Four numbered five and played cover versions in dingy Hamburg bars. The show contains only snatches of Lennon and McCartney and is unlikely the please those joining walking tours to Abbey Road. As long as you don’t go expecting to hear a string of Beatles hits, you’ll find plenty to engage you.

Backbeat isn’t really a musical at all. It’s a play with songs. And it’s the performance of the music – from faltering beginnings to growing confidence – rather than the music itself that forms part of the drama. It takes guts to show this on a West End stage and it adds enormously to the play, whose focus is Stuart Sutcliffe who, in his tragically short life, was co-opted into his friend John Lennon’s band and then left it to pursue his own path as a painter.

We aren’t just watching Sutcliffe or The Beatles grow artistically. At the heart of Backbeat is a love triangle between Sutcliffe and Lennon, to whom he acts as some kind of muse, and Sutcliffe’s new girlfriend Astrid Kirchherr. All three performances are remarkably credible. Andrew Knott provides the perfect portrait of the genius in waiting as Lennon. Nick Blood is moving as the troubled Sutcliffe, and his relationship with Astrid, played by Ruta Gedmintas who radiates 60s cool, has fantastic on stage chemistry.

What director David Leveaux and his cast deliver is an explosion of young creativity that is inspiring. Rough and ready, impassioned and precocious, these characters have a sense of destiny that (forget hindsight) is the privilege of youth – what’s important is the electric atmosphere that bounces off them. Backbeat is a bold experiment that deserves success. If its components fail to wholly satisfy, bear in mind that it is more than the sum of its parts. Its energy is infectious and it will have your reaching for your Beatles back catalogue to continue the story as soon as you get home.

Until 24 March 2012

Photo by Nobby Clark

Written 7 November 2011 for The London Magazine

2011

“Three Days In May” at the Trafalgar Studios

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You don’t have to be much of a history buff to know plenty about World War II. The conflict is part of our national consciousness – constantly referenced and a rhetorical mine for commentators. But the idea that, at the start of the war, none other that Winston Churchill, along with his Tory colleagues, countenanced capitulating to Hitler, will be news to most of us. No wonder playwright Ben Brown has leapt on this fascinating subject for his new play, Three Days In May.

Brown skilfully treads a fine line between drama and history lesson. Using Churchill’s secretary as a narrator may be unimaginative but James Alper’s appealing performance matches the clarity of Brown’s writing. With the scene set, a narrative of political manoeuvring and debate on reason and conscience can begin. Director Alan Strachan’s production is understandably static and tension can’t really mount (we know the outcome after all) but Three Days In May successfully conveys the drama of those dark times.

The focus is obviously on Churchill – the novel take is his battle with Cabinet colleagues Chamberlain (Robert Demeger in fine form), and Halifax, performed with magnificent hauteur by Jeremy Clyde. Halifax was the preferred choice to lead Britain in the war (did you know that?) but was an advocate of appeasement. Brown presents his arguments forcefully, setting up a great ‘what if’ scenario.

But it’s the role and performance of Churchill that should ensure ticket sales for Three Days In May. Warren Clarke has the perfect touch of imitation to invoke the man and Brown gives him plenty to work with. Churchill was a driven, controversial figure with more than a touch of instability, and Clarke’s performance calls to mind Ivor Roberts-Jones’ statue, just down the road in Parliament Square – isolated, somewhat menacing and magnificently independent.

Until March 3 2012

www.atgtickets.com

Photo by Keith Pattinson

Written 4 November 2011 for The London Magazine

2011

“13” at the National Theatre

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After the success of last year’s Earthquakes in London, Mike Bartlett’s return to the National Theatre with his new play, 13, has something of triumph about it. Promotion to the grand Olivier Theatre would be a dream for most playwrights, but Bartlett seems undaunted and bravely presents us with a fear-fuelled nightmare that’s ambitious, big and bold.

It’s one nightmare, to be specific, spookily shared by 13 different people. This clever device shows a disparate section of society, from a cleaning lady to the Prime Minister (Geraldine James on excellent form), all living in anxious times and searching for something to believe in.

It would be impossible to mistake Barlett’s version of the future as the very nearly now – social networking, riots on the streets, economic catastrophe and the threat of war – it’s all highly topical, with enough iPads on stage to make Steve Jobs smile down on us. As if this weren’t enough, Bartlett introduces religion as a fulcrum to his play. A central messianic character, John, performed with gnomic intensity by Trystan Gravelle, raises yet more questions and heightens the dramatic stakes.

Thea Sharrock’s direction and Tom Scutt’s design match Bartlett’s vision. With the Olivier’s revolve used to great effect, this is a precise production, technically impressive and rewardingly theatrical. The dreams the cast share, full of “monsters and explosions”, are complemented by spectacular lighting design from Mark Henderson.

After detailing a depressing catalogue of ills that beset our world in fantastically dynamic fashion, the pace changes to present a debate between the PM, the prophetic John and Danny Webb who plays an atheist academic with commanding presence.

It’s possible Bartlett has a young audience in mind for 13 – a crowd fresh for debate and highly engaged. If so, then I applaud him. But, despite Bartlett’s skill, the ideas behind 13 don’t match the novelty of their execution. It isn’t that the issues aren’t important or interesting, rather that they have been debated so many times before. What is impressive is that Bartlett presents them with a degree of impartiality seldom seen. And that is a very grown-up thing indeed.

Until 8 January 2012

www.nationaltheatre.org.uk

Photo by Marc Brenner

Written 28 October 2011 for The London Magazine

2011

“Jumpy” at the Royal Court

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There’s a reason plays about generational conflict are perennial – they make great dramas. April De Angelis’ new play Jumpy is no exception. With a nod to the classics, and great observations on modern life, the focus here is on a mother and daughter relationship as funny as it is fraught.

Tilly is an odious teenager. Bel Powley plays her superbly, making the most out of her deliberately inarticulate character, full of shocking yet recognisable spite and ignorance. The Royal Court audience seems full of mothers nodding and sometimes glancing at the shame-faced teenagers they have dragged along. They deserve this sweet compensation. Surely, like Tilly’s mother Hilary, they are good parents – but still suffer. The “brand of exquisite torture” Tilly inflicts is funny, but the real joy is to laugh at the teenagers as much as the middle-aged.

De Angelis has written some strong male characters in Jumpy. There is a fine performance from Ewan Stewart as Hilary’s husband and Richard Lintern is deliciously credible as Roland, an oily divorcee whose clichéd mid-life crisis pails in comparison with the women in the piece. Hilary’s friend Francis (Doon Mackichan) takes up burlesque dancing, with “post-feminist irony” of course, in a scene that is one of the funniest you will see on stage this year.

But Francis, who characterises being 50 as a “crisis”, can’t match our “mental-pausal” heroine Hilary. It is a role Tamsin Greig excels in – and she holds the audience whether she’s wisecracking or weeping. A former protestor at Greenham Common (kind of), still keen on good deeds and personal projects, she reads Dickens and has Great Expectations for her daughter but is full of “wobbles”. Greig is marvellous at injecting pathos into her struggle. De Angelis’ text skates over issues and leaves plot points hanging, so the play’s most poignant moments, which really are moving, are down to Greig’s performance.

It isn’t fair to extol Greig exclusively. The supporting cast are too strong for that. Powley in particular is an actress it is safe to say we will see more of, and De Angelis is a great comic writer. This is a play not to be missed – and take a teenager if you can.

Until 19 November 2012

www.royalcourttheatre.com

Photo by Robert Workman

Written 26 October 2011 for The London Magazine

2011

“Death and the Maiden” at the Harold Pinter Theatre

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Ariel Dorfman’s play, Death and the Maiden, is a fantastic vehicle for a star actress. Making her West End debut in the role of Paulina, a former political prisoner still haunted by trauma years later, Thandie Newton instantly establishes a febrile fragility. When chance leads to her encountering the man who tortured and raped her, she unleashes a manic power to exact a stunning revenge.

Newton is an avenging fury, waving around a gun in a most unnerving manner, but she is always articulate – tragically aware of her “irreparable” condition and focusing intensely on the play’s questions about justice and tolerance. Any fears about Newton’s inexperience in the theatre are banished by Peter McKintosh’s design, forcing her to the front of the stage as a commanding presence. This is a bold performance bringing out the pathos as well as the grotesque anger of Paulina’s impossible situation.

Newton is aided by strong performances from her co-stars. Anthony Calf plays Dr Miranda, the man she accuses, captures and interrogates, in chilling style. Toying with the possibility of his innocence as he begs for his life, Calf shows us a real person – not just a monster. Paulina’s husband is “caught in the middle” of them both: in conflict because he loves his wife but doubts her sanity, because of his high ideals, and also because his recent appointment as a political crimes investigator means that his career is at stake. Tom Goodman-Hill gives an outstanding performance. Rational and passionate by turns, he is tremendous.

Dorfman’s text is constructed to transcend its vague setting in some South American state and focus on themes of retribution and resolution. Alongside this, Jeremy Herrin’s production enhances the play’s potential as a taut thriller, and his direction grips like a vice, making this one of the most exciting nights out in the West End as well as one of the most powerful.

Until 21 January 2012

www.atgtickets.com

Photo by Ellie Kurttz

Written 20 October 2011 for The London Magazine