All posts by Edward Lukes

“Wonderland” from #HampsteadTheatreAtHome

This second online offering from Hampstead Theatre shows Britain in a different kind of crisis than the coronavirus we currently face – The Miners’ Strike of 1983. Although it’s always clear where the show’s heart rests, presenting events from the perspective of both workers and government creates problems. But playwright Beth Steel’s achievement is to convey a sense of those times as epoch making, giving the history a palpable urgency in a play full of passion.

There’s real heart in Steel’s depictions of the miners and it makes the story engrossing. Starting off slow, showing work underground, during the strike both tension and emotion build well. Performances from Paul Brennen as the ‘Colonel’ of a mine and a pitman who disagrees with the strike, played by Gunnar Cauthery, are highlights. If the roles of two young apprentices, Jimmy and Malcolm, seem less secured, with their motivations and characters more confused, there are further strong performances from Ben-Ryan Davies and David Moorst. Steel is strong at showing a blend of comradery, with humour and machismo, alongside revealing the craft behind the graft. It makes Wonderland powerful stuff.

When it comes to the politicians and businessmen on the other side of the strike, what is mined is conspiracy rather than character. The result is a selection of stark portrayals that, even if they are accurate, mean performances struggle. Michael Cochrane has a good go as Ian ‘Butcher’ MacGregor, Chairman of the Coal Board, which is an interesting role, surely written as too naïve. The parts for Transport Secretary Nicholas Ridley and that of David Hart, whose role in events is understandably confusing, are too villainous (likewise any police shown). It’s left to the ‘wet’ Energy Secretary Peter Walker to present any kind of balance and, while Andrew Havill, who takes the part, does a good job, he isn’t given enough to work with.

There are moments when director Edward Hall could help more: a scene of political debate disappears into the pit as it’s getting interesting and a tragic finale, which enforces the dangers of mining and has some of Steel’s finest writing, is sacrificed for the sake of action. Yet Hall deals with all the incident Steel crams in – and it’s a lot – with commendable efficiently. The set from Ashley Martin Davis, mining lifts and all, is excellent and well used. There’s valuable support from lighting designer Peter Mumford and composer Simon Slater, whose ‘theme tune’ for the miners is highly effective. The commitment behind the show shines out as the injustice of “proud working men treated like dogs”, victims of ideology and political machination, are exposed with conviction.

www.hampsteadtheatre.com

Available until 12 April 2020

Photos by Manuel Harlan

“Cyprus Avenue” from the Royal Court

While it’s difficult to define a work as deep as David Ireland’s 2017 play, currently being shown on YouTube with a request for donations, it’s easy to say that this thought-provoking comedy horror is something everyone should see.

It’s framed around the clinical treatment of Eric, a dour and obsessive Northern Irish protestant whose psychosis is at first amusing – he believes his grand-daughter is IRA politician Gerry Adams! Up until what Eric has done becomes clear, the play is full of belly laughs. Stephen Rea makes a masterclass of this starring role, with a magnificent, deadpan delivery.

Cyprus Avenue from the Royal Court photos by Ros Kavangh
Stephen Rea and Ronkẹ Adékoluẹjo

Following the play’s descent into darkness, Eric is accompanied in his treatment by two very different kinds of therapists… one of whom isn’t even real. First up, Ronkẹ Adékoluẹjo makes a calm and clear psychologist convincing – it’s a performance that grounds the play. Then comes Chris Corrigan, also superb, who plays a gun-toting paramilitary-turned-mindfulness guru – and film critic – whose role shows how mad things are becoming.

Cyprus Avenue from The Royal Court Photo Ros Kavanagh
Stephen Rea and Chris Corrigan

Plays don’t get much funnier than Cyprus Avenue, especially not when they deal with murder, mental illness and racism. But theatre also doesn’t get much more disturbing. Be prepared, as the final scenes are grotesque, shocking and traumatic.

What the jokes and drama have in common is Ireland’s intelligence and sense of purpose. Examining both sectarianism and racism, and the way prejudice links the two, brings up big questions in a challenging manner. The play is preoccupied with time – past, present and future – to show how each has a distinct impact on self-identity. And Ireland has a firm handle on how disturbing the disturbed can be. Eric’s breakdown devastates his family long before he physically hurts them – a fact carefully acknowledged in the moving performances from Andrea Irvine and Amy Molly as, respectively, his wife and daughter.

That the final scenes are so awful, with Rea transformed into a terrifying figure, confirms director Vicky Featherstone’s bold vision for the piece. Yes, the mood changes dramatically. But this comes with an insidious, sinking feeling that builds carefully. Eric’s crazed logic brings about a brutality that is impossible to predict in its extremity. Yet the idea that such consequences follow his demented reasoning, arguments we’ve been laughing at so hard, provides a powerful point to end on.

Available until the 26 April 2020 from https://royalcourttheatre.com/whats-on/cyprus-avenue-film/

Photos by Ros Kavanagh

“One Man Two Guvnors” from NTLive

The National Theatre’s decision to release recordings from its cinema broadcasts on YouTube while the country is on lockdown is hugely welcome. Starved of theatre in these troubled times the announcement was a genuine boost that many, myself included, are grateful for.

First up is a smash hit from 2014. Richard Bean’s adaptation of Carlo Goldoni’s commedia dell’arte play, whose title tells us its plot, is sure to provide much needed laughs. The sense of a good night out is conveyed even on a screen and I ended up enjoying the show more than first time around.

Energetically directed by Nicholas Hytner, this is theatre that seeks gags shamelessly. Bean’s hard-working script is packed with jokes: silly, slapstick, crude and cruel, using rhyming slang and old-fashioned tongue twisters. Best of all are the surreal similes that really tickle: next time anyone is unwelcome, please compare them to a “big horse in a pub” and anything unpredictable to “a wasp in a shop window”.

Heading up the hard-working text, which Hytner never allows to slack, with appropriate vim is the man of the title, James Corden. A natural “clown” and “geezer”, Corden excels with the show’s audience participation and his physical comedy is accomplished. But for my money the guvnors are the stars – two lovers in hiding who both happen to hire him as help, played by Jemima Rooper and Oliver Chris. Neither wastes a single line (Chris is especially funny), but they also make us care for their characters on the run. No matter how stupid things get, we don’t doubt their love. And, in a play that seldom pauses for breath, the moments when they believe the other has died prove especially poignant

One Man Two Guvnors is the perfect choice to start this digital season – it’s hard to imagine who wouldn’t enjoy the piece. An exciting selection of shows lies ahead, released for one week every Thursday, as some compensation while we can’t visit the South Bank in person.

Available until Wednesday 8 April 2020

To support visit nationaltheatre.org.uk

Photos by Johan Persson

“Wild” from #HampsteadTheatreAtHome

The first of three free streamed recordings on offer, Mike Bartlett’s 2016 play takes inspiration from Edward Snowden and revelations of government spying on its citizens. This superb play shows Bartlett’s characteristically calculated skill and cool intelligence.

Handled impeccably by director James Macdonald, for a while, Wild looks like a modest two-hander. The Snowden character, renamed Andrew, meets his contact from what we assume is WikiLeaks in a Russian hotel room. What happens to a man right after he becomes the world’s biggest ever whistleblower? It’s a smart little twist and what follows is often clever, and funny, provoking plenty to debate.

The next move is to make ‘George’, sent to represent Julian Assange, quite bonkers. Andrew’s rescuer arrives in tottering high heels and with plenty of provisos, making a great role for Caolifhionn Dunne, who gets a lot of laughs. If the performance seems a bit broad on a screen, it’s clear it would inject energy on a static stage.

Questioning Andrew’s actions and motivations, playing with the espionage surrounding the situation (which also introduces considerable threat) continues when another George appears. This time played by John Mackay, whose dour presentation is just as good as Dunne’s mania. The play takes on a surreal paranoia with simple effectiveness. 

In the role of Andrew, Jack Farthing’s response shows how carefully his performance has been prepared; increasing the panic nicely and adding an intriguing depth to the role. Yet the play still has an economy to it that’s impressive. Only later does extravagance arrive.

Bartlett is not a playwright shy of exaggeration and this comes into its own in Wild. Conspiracy theories pile up, moving tantalisingly close to spiralling out of control, and, as the arguments become more abstract, Bartlett’s tone turns impassioned and aggressive. Both of the Georges become demonic figures, whose power is undoubted, while Farthing makes his character’s lot lamentable. 

For final praise, there’s a plot spoiler. Designer Miriam Buether (with a consulting illusionist, Ben Hart, also credited) provides a set with a surprise – it collapses and the floor rotates 90 degrees. As a literal metaphor for Andrew’s disorientation it may not be subtle – but it’s brilliant theatre and leaves a stunning impression.

www.hampsteadtheatre.com

Available until 5 April 2020

Photos by Stephen Cummiskey

"The Croft" from The Original Theatre Company

This online offering from a touring company, something I wouldn’t normally have the pleasure of seeing, is a thriller from playwright Ali Milles.  With a remote location that has a tragic history, there are plenty of details to spook, including flickering candles, slamming doors and no phone signal. But it’s the play’s focus on female stories that makes it stand out and, to an extent, smart and fulsome.

The Croft is driven by the romance between Laura and her older lover Susan – an interesting, intriguing and convincing relationship that Lucy Doyle and Caroline Harker both grab for all its considerable worth. The couple have problems. Laura mourns her mother, while Susan is still married with children, and their weekend away in Laura’s old family holiday home is fractious from the start. But their affection is persuasive and the characters appealing: Cain is excellent with explosions of anger, while Harker shows her character as outwardly calm yet full of panic. If the play is downhill from here, it’s a high starting point and the descent is not precipitous.

Plot is Milles’ strength, and introducing Laura’s past and the dark history of the cottage – a parallel story of two women, also of different ages, pitted against the patriarchy – is a hefty idea. Without overstating her case, Milles brings out ideas of autonomy and society nicely and keeps the action engaging. Although the result isn’t as potent as it could be – too much else gets in the way – director Philip Franks keeps matters moving, aided by Max Pappenheim’s strong sound design, which I would have loved to have experienced live.

The Croft from the original theatre company credit Charlotte Graham
Drew Cain

Problems come from too many additions. The story of Laura’s mother, and a battle for dignity against cancer, fits in thematically but slows down the play – fatal in any thriller. And it makes an unhappy second role for Harker. Likewise, all the roles for men feel a touch superfluous. A scene with Laura’s father could easily be cut (despite Simon Roberts’ efforts) and, while Drew Cain has a strong presence, his roles carry the burden of too much exposition.

The Croft from the original theatre company credit Charlotte Graham
Lucy Doyle and Gwen Taylor

Since the story of the cottage’s previous tenants, Enid and Eilene, is strong in its own right, The Croft can still be recommended. There’s a sense that Gwen Taylor, as Enid, isn’t given enough to do, while Eilene makes a strong dual role for Doyle despite having fewer appearances. But a story crying out for further exploration is an exciting proposition. Suggestions of spirits and witchcraft all lead the way and prove haunting rather than just creepy.

Available at www.originaltheatre.com

Photos by Charlotte Graham

“The Habit of Art” from The Original Theatre Company

Just about to start a tour as theatres began closing due to coronavirus, this revival of Alan Bennett’s 2009 play was recorded at a closed performance on what should have been its opening night. With special thanks to those who made this happen, justly keen to show off their hard work, Philip Frank’s production makes an excellent case for the piece by carefully playing to its strengths.

Using the device of a play-within-a-play, an imaginary meeting of poet WH Auden and composer Benjamin Britten is rehearsed by a none too happy cast and crew – full of the excitement and tension surrounding live performance we’re all missing so much at the moment. Franks does an excellent job with the behind-the-scenes feel – Adrian Linford’s design deserves credit, too – getting the most from Bennett’s comedy.

Right from the start, Veronica Roberts and Jessica Dennis, as the show’s stage managers, share Franks’ appreciation of Bennett’s humour. And taking the leads as those playing Auden and Britten respectively, Matthew Kelly and David Yelland do an expert job: their characters are a couple of old hams, as you might expect, hitting every aside perfectly. Of course, it’s a shame not to experience this live, as Bennett can really make an audience howl – and hearing just the laughter from a few crew members is a little sad. But nobody would miss this more than those on stage, and yet each joke still lands. Even better, lines are frequently tinged with a melancholic edge that shows deep appreciation of the text.

A wistfulness within The Habit of Art, coming primarily from the elderly characters – skilfully written and expertly conveyed here – becomes an unexpected problem. At this moment in time, the play shows its age to its detriment. Acknowledgement of Britten’s attraction to young boys, along with a male prostitute who features within the play being put on, sit uncomfortably with current concerns. It should be pointed out that Bennett wants these “boys of art” to be given some kind of due; but the argument for, and nature of, this acknowledgement feels confused and the issues passed over too lightly.

Such problems were clearly not at the forefront of Bennett’s mind when writing. Instead, concerns about creativity were the job at hand. Questioning sincerity and authenticity in ‘art’ and combing humanity with grandeur in the ‘artist’, both the historical subjects and Bennett’s own fictional creations are fully utilised. It’s a mix of high-falutin’ ideas and jokes about genitals that few could manage.

The balance is seen in the performances, too. While Kelly’s character struggles with his lines, he still manages to show what a pro he is, making Auden’s obsession with time very moving. Meanwhile, Yelland does a brilliant job of hinting at his character’s haunted past. No stranger to acclaim himself, this look at the great (if not so good) of ‘art’ could be cold and abstract. But Bennett, with the help of all in this skilful revival, makes it alive and vital. The habit referred to in the title focuses on the labour involved in making art. Here, that effort, while as thought provoking as intended, is made to seem both easy and enjoyable. And that’s a job well done.

Available at http://www.originaltheatre.com/

Photo by Helen Maybanks

"I and You" at the Hampstead Theatre via Instagram

While not being able to visit the theatre, or blog about it, is low on the list of most people’s problems right now, any glimpse at a big part of my normal life is welcome. I’m grateful to Hampstead Theatre for streaming this play, first seen on its stage last October, and a chance to get as close to theatre as is currently possible.

Lauren Gunderson’s two-hander has its teenage characters occupied with death and art. Caroline is waiting for a liver transplant, trapped in her room for health reasons, while Anthony from her school is assigned to work on a poetry project with her. It’s serious stuff, but not as heavy as it sounds. Gunderson has a nice way of lightening the themes with some surprisingly gentle comedy. 

The performers, Maisie Williams and Zach Wyatt, are good with the jokes and Gunderson’s strong characters are a gift to them. Williams makes Caroline’s self-definition as “small and mighty” believable – the character is abrasive and obnoxious, but above all appealingly honest. It’s no small achievement to see past the illness to get a well-rounded role: her hatred of the “kittens and winky faces” people send her on social media, as well as her obvious intelligence, come through. And surely you have to admire someone who names their cat Bitter. Wyatt has a harder job but also does well: Anthony’s enthusiasm for the poetry of Walt Whitman feels forced, but it’s easy to see how it would have worked better on a stage than on a screen. For a lot of the piece, there’s too much of the teacher about him for someone who is supposed to be Caroline’s peer.

There are other problems, although all are mitigated by Edward Hall’s skilful direction. Claiming I and You is too shouty might be subjective, but there are clunky touches around sudden love and pain. We can pass over Caroline’s knowledge of a poem she supposedly hasn’t read, but her enthusiasm waxes and wanes too abruptly. And, while the budding friendship between the two youngsters is mostly touching, a potential romance feels superfluous. The play’s twist, which has potential, arrives a little too late and feels underexplored.

Nonetheless, this is a work of focus and skill. Gunderson has a strong ear for speech. The kids’ project is on pronouns, and proves thought-provoking, while Caroline’s dialogue, with its “prefaces” and “postscripts”, is fascinating. While there’s plenty of talk of collages, and how strange they can be, Gunderson’s work is far from bricolage and all the better for it. Caroline’s artwork focuses on close-up photography – the beauty that most of us miss – a quality shared with detailed moments in the text. I look forward to seeing Gunderson’s work live at some point and promise I’ll attend whatever show she, or Hampstead Theatre, has on as soon as I can.

Available @hampstead_theatre on Instagram until Sunday 20 March 2020

Photo by Manual Harlan

“Women Beware Women” at the Sam Wanamaker Playhouse

Like Thomas Middleton’s Jacobean play itself, this production has its bumpy moments. The exaggerated characters, plot twists and sexual politics all have to be negotiated in any revival. And director Amy Hodge does well, making the play entertaining, fast paced and full of drama.

Hodge focuses on the three female leads and makes the all the talk of honour and virtue convincing – Thalissa Teixeira and Olivia Vinall give captivating performances as two very different young women in love. Meanwhile, Tara Fitzgerald has the great role of arch-villain Livia and deals well with the camper moments of her truly wicked “shop of cunning”.

Women Beware Women at the Sam Wanamaker Playhouse
Tara Fitzgerald

Make no mistake, a lot of what happens in Women Beware Women is awful. The sexual violence and coercion aren’t shied away from and Teixeira in particular handles this bravely. But the production also deserves praise for connecting this with the sexism that pervades the play, for example, the ‘advice’ about what kind of woman should be wed is delivered as a song (James Fortune’s music for the show is consistently strong). There’s a creeping nausea about the confined lives of all the female characters.

Simon Kunz

Sinister performances from the play’s powerful male characters add to the tension. Simon Kunz makes the most of a relatively small part as the Duke of Florence. Daon Broni is truly creepy as Hippolito, who tricks his niece into an incestuous relationship. Best of all is the mercantile Guardiano, a consistently strong performance by Gloria Onitiri, who brings out scheming, snobbishness and wrath by turns.

Despite all this praise, the production has glitches. Joanna Scotcher’s design is confusing (the aim was the 1980s, but you’d struggle to work that out). Comedy in Women Beware Women is a tricky affair, full stop, and the character of the hapless Ward, played by Helen Cripps, is an unhappy one. And there’s the decision to stage the Masque within the play with tongues in cheek. I happen to disagree and think this scene should escalate the drama, instead of comically diffusing it. But I understand the thinking – the genre is tricky to get your head around – and the decision is well executed, indeed so many bodies on such a small stage is handled superbly. Yet the Masque remains the most obvious moment when Hodge doesn’t smooth over the play’s faults as might be wished. Arguably, it’s not her job to. But the resulting production is a staccato affair that has plenty to praise but also too many stops and starts.

Until 18 April 2020

www.shakespearesglobe.com

Photos by Johan Persson

“Bin Juice” at the Vault Festival

Cat Kolubayev’s comedy thriller is a little treat. A neat if queasy scenario, about a sinister waste disposal business and its new recruit, has great characters and a wicked sense of humour.

Firmly directed by Anastasia Bruce-Jones, Bin Juice benefits from three strong performers making the most of solid roles.

Adeline Waby and Madison Clare – both superb comedians – play the firm’s psychopathically quirky employees. There’s a great sense of their offbeat relationship being long established. Waby’s character is steely and smart, Clare’s deadpan and whacky, and both get great laughs from lines both blunt and surreal – a mix of nonchalance and concern is nicely handled. Into the mix comes Belinda, another strong showing from Helena Antoniou, who tackles the distinct humour just as well and adds a touch of mysterious tension.

Exciting as the Vault Festival is, it has to be mentioned (again) how poor the acoustics are. The venue does not serve this piece well. It’s clear that the talented cast have to shout more often than the script needs, a fair call on Bruce-Jones’ part but I’d love to hear a quieter menace in some lines.

The short running times at the festival also prove a drawback. Kolubayev plots well, playing with predictable genre elements, I really wanted to know more about the “someone” in charge who communicates only by phone. But the show feels truncated. More, please – let’s hope this piece can be expanded. A sense of shock at the abrupt end shows Bin Juice is as engrossing as it is gross!

Until 15 March 2020

www.vaultfestival.com

Photo by Lidia Crisfulli

“The Time Machine” at The London Library

Inspired by the HG Wells novel, this immersive show has the huge benefit of being staged in The London Library. Playwright Jonathan Holloway’s new story unfolds in the gorgeous reading rooms and wonderful bookstacks. Admittedly, it’s a slight on the show that its main attraction is a bibliophile’s dream locale, but director Natasha Rickman and her team at Creation Theatre really do showcase the building magnificently.

Small groups are led around by an individual time traveller and mine – performed by Paul (PK) Taylor – was excellent, being good at engaging those who wanted interaction and leaving alone those who did not. Injecting a sense of urgency, even spookiness, he even managed to cover up a technical hitch for a good while. Joined for a couple of scenes by Graeme Rose as a computer who reminded me of a Gilbert and George artwork, the two did well with an anarchic streak that is the best of Holloway’s script.

The Time Machine at The London Library
Graeme Rose

There’s a cheeky humour to the show that I felt growing on me. With the idea that things are being changed constantly – including our socks – by illegal time travellers, there are plenty of smart lines. Playing with the past, especially with famous authors, should appeal to the audience, while claiming that the first instance of time travel was in New York nightclub Studio 54 (and playing Donna Summer in the library) is a great idea. It’s a shame it all gets more serious.

The Time Machine has a lot of important things to say. Wells would no doubt approve. But doom and gloom about the future mean this machine stalls. A “torrent of information” we’re exposed to is delivered well and bite-sized gobbets of science and philosophy are digestible enough. But too many scenarios of Armageddon arrive – each a cliché and fuelled, you guessed it, by conspiracies. Maybe we just don’t need more talk of epidemics right now but, rather than feeling topical, the show feels tired.

The Time Machine at The London Library
Funlola Olufunwa

Taylor keeps up the energy (joined by Sarah Edwardson and Funlola Olufunwa with two underwritten roles that they try hard with), and there’s a real effort to introduce passion and urgency. But a lot of what’s said becomes silly and the show’s originality evaporates. When it comes to imagining the future, this feels like old news. The only safe prediction should be an increase in membership for The London Library.

Until 5 April 2020

Photos by Richard Budd

www.creationtheatre.co.uk