Category Archives: 2011

2011

“Ghost The Musical” at the Piccadilly Theatre

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Many would rather die than see Ghost. A West-End musical that’s blatantly yet another attempt to cash in on the popularity of a movie that wasn’t very good in the first place, it sounds strictly for out-of-towners. Yet Ghost has some serious talent both behind the scenes and on stage. While its trite tagline asks us to ‘believe in love’, should we believe that this Ghost is worth seeing?

The plot is a given. A young woman becomes haunted by the ghost of her fiancé after his murder, aided by a medium who discovers, to her surprise, that her gifts are genuine. The first coup is the casting of Sharon D Clarke, who has fine comic skills and the kind of voice that makes you suspect she’s too good for the songs she’s singing. Which is certainly the case with the star of the show, Caissie Levy, who plays the lead role of Molly. A performer from America with the kind of belting voice and acting skills Broadway produces so well, Levy is a real star.

The important thing about Ghost is that it contains original music. There are occasions – such as the trio finale of the first act – that are very good indeed and, if some numbers fail, I think Dave Stewart should be given a break, as writing for this must have been a thankless task. With the ‘theme’ from the Everly Brothers already in so many heads, anything else penned is bound to seem incidental. Yet Stewart has produced a score that is interesting and deals with that tune intelligently.

Talented director Matthew Warchus adds credibility to the project and his speedy handling of the story is commendable. But the show seems hampered by flashy projections and the ensemble underused. It is tempting to imagine Ghost as some kind of chamber piece and possible to see that a stripped-back production could have been something very different indeed. The illusions added to the show by Paul Kieve are spectacular and the projections mark a new high technically, but both achievements move the production uncomfortably close to its cinematic heritage and make it strangely untheatrical.

That Ghost is so technically accomplished will not seem a fault to many. But the role of the leading man is a flaw that should have been corrected. As the programme reminds us, the departed fiancé, Sam Wheat, joins a long line of supernatural characters in plays. Unfortunately, Sam has the distinction of being the most boring ghost in theatre history. Richard Fleeshman deals valiantly with this fact, seemingly under the impression that if he sings loudly enough we will forget his character’s insipid sentimentality. He is mistaken. It is difficult to believe Sam is the grand passion of the rather wonderful Molly – love may be blind but here it is in danger of ending up deaf as well.

It is difficult to care about this ghost, so should you bother to see him? Yes. After all, any belief takes a leap of faith and the power behind the central performances, along with the competence of those who have put the show together, should be more than enough to convert all but the most cynical.

Photo by Sean Ebsworth Barnes

Written 30 September 2011 for The London Magazine

2011

“Grief” at the National Theatre

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The way Mike Leigh makes a play is unlike anyone else. His new work, Grief at the National Theatre, was devised in collaboration with his cast and crew, in secret and from scratch. The result is something very special indeed.

The story of a 1950s war widow and the life she shares with her brother and only child is grim. The period detail of repressed emotion is familiar ground but Leigh presents it devoid of cliché – we see the price paid for such control and it isn’t pretty.

The long period of gestation that made the play results in an investment from the cast that produces magnificent performances. Lesley Manville has created one of the finest roles of her career: continually on brink of tears, the way she holds back is astonishing. Joined by Ruby Bentall, in a remarkable performance as her troubled daughter, as well as a host of other Leigh regulars – this is one of the finest ensemble you will see onstage in London at the moment.

Ironically, the quality of the acting makes Grief very hard to watch. For a play obsessed with death there are some very funny lines, but there is a sting in the tale: each laugh brings us closer to the characters, makes them seem unbearably real. The sense of foreboding Leigh manipulates in the audience becomes cruelly oppressive.

Be warned. The dark denouement that ends Grief is shocking and deeply disturbing. Manville’s final break down is harrowing: occurring offstage the effect is akin to Timanthes depiction of Agamemnon, covering his face to hide his pain, and all the more harrowing for being unseen. The plays rejection of any resolution makes it one of the most powerful nights at the theatre you can imagine.

Until 28 January 2012

www.nationaltheatre.org.uk

Photo by John Haynes

Written 27 September 2011

2011

“One for the Road” and “Victoria Station” at The Print Room

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One for the Road and Victoria Station are two short works by Notting Hill local Harold Pinter, and what would have been his neighbourhood theatre, the Print Room, provides a rare chance to see these disturbing, powerful mini-masterpieces together for the first time since their premiere in 1984.

Victoria Station is a Kafkaesque dialogue between a taxi driver and his controller – darkly comic with a sinister twist and only ten minutes long. One for the Road is a violent, sadistic interrogation drama (with a nod to Orwell and its date of composition) that lasts a truly harrowing half-hour.

Keith Dunphy is superb as the taxi controller in the first work – Pinter’s humour is slippery and needs intelligence to pull it off. Kevin Doyle takes centre stage in the second piece, playing the brutal questioner with a spine-chilling wish to be “scrupulous”. Jeff James’s direction retains the intensity of the writing and Alex Lowde’s design, looking like an installation from an art gallery, enhances the bizarre atmosphere.

Both pieces are at once obtuse and complex. It is remarkable that such short works can generate so much speculation and carry such emotion. The evening is one that Pinter fans simply shouldn’t miss.

Until 1 October 2011

www.the-print-room.org

Then transferring to the Young Vic 6 – 15 October 2011

www.youngvic.org

Written 21 September 2011 for The London Magazine

2011

“My City” at the Almeida Theatre

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Stephen Poliakoff’s first play in 12 years, My City at the Almeida Theatre, is a story about stories. Told by a teacher, in flashbacks to school assemblies and to former pupils she meets in the present, the play is a modest, appealing affair.

Also making a welcome return to the London stage is Tracy Ullman who plays the teacher, Miss Lambert. Ullman is convincing as an inspirational mentor, captivating with her true stories of walking the city streets at night. The reason behind her nocturnal rambles interests less than it should, though, and the explanation for her phengophobia – the focus of the play’s finale – lacks power. Nonetheless, Miss Lambert is a wonderful creation and Ullman superb.

Joining Ullman to perform these narratives are two highly theatrical pedagogues, Mr Minkin (David Troughton) and Ms Summers (Sorcha Cusack). The three make a provoking trio, casting a magical hold over their ‘old children’, performed by Tom Riley and Siân Brooke. The youngsters are a rapt audience for everything from time-travelling history lessons to macabre tales from the present (both inspired by former North London student Edgar Allan Poe), and the impact the teachers have on their lives is moving yet unsentimental. Many of us are lucky enough to have known life-changing teachers and My City celebrates this intelligently.

When My City touches on topical themes it falls somewhat flat and while all Londoners can appreciate the pleasures and perils of walking the city, the play seems surprisingly lacking in a sense of place. But when the focus is on the art of storytelling – as it often is – Poliakoff and his cast excel. With Lez Brotherston’s subtle set and Poliakoff’s own direction, My City is back to basics theatre that should appeal to all.

Until 5 November 2011

www.almeida.co.uk

Photo by Hugo Glendinning

Written 20 September 2011 for The London Magazine

2011

“The 39 Steps” at the Criterion Theatre

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The British love a little light self-deprecation. And jolly good we are at it, too. With an adaptation masterminded by Patrick Barlow (of National Theatre of Brent fame) of John Buchan’s 1914 boy’s-own spy thriller, The 39 Steps is full of clichés ripe for poking fun at and has earned plenty of awards for doing just that: the stiff upper lips, sexism and jingoism of the past have been making audiences at The Criterion theatre rock with laughter for the last five years.

The stage show is as much a tribute to Alfred Hitchcock’s 1935 film as it is to the original story. Scenes are re-enacted, including the famous escape on the Forth Bridge, and, if that sounds impossible, other movies and a cameo from the great director are thrown in as well. But this is pure theatre – laughing at its limitations while showing the power of the medium. The inventiveness of a hardworking cast of four, minimal props and faux improv are something to celebrate.

Actress Maria Aitken directs and makes The 39 Steps a joy for its absurdly versatile cast – the actors even get to draw upon all that drama school training pretending to be trees and rocks. Rufus Wright is the dashing Richard Hannay, who goes from worrying about his pencil moustache to running away from a dastardly spy ring. Laura Rogers plays all the women admirably, especially Annabella Schmidt, the spy that Hannay takes home and offers kippers to. The other 135 roles are performed by just two men: Dermot Canavan (having great fun in drag) and, on the performance I saw, the understudy James Hurn who put on such a jolly good show that my only quibble is that he didn’t get the extra bow he deserved.

The 39 Steps isn’t for everyone. Steer clear if you hate slapstick and be prepared for some awful puns. But here’s a tip – the show is great for visitors, even those that might have English as a second language. The humour’s broad appeal means Johnny Foreigner will be able to laugh along as you show you’re a true Brit by laughing at yourself. In fact, seeing this show is practically a patriotic duty – so come on chaps!

www.love39steps.com

Written 13 September 2011 for The London Magazine

2011

“The Kitchen” at the National Theatre

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Bijan Sheibani’s spirited revival of Arnold Wesker’s The Kitchen provides audiences with an insight into 1950s catering and post-war Britain. The acting is commendable, the production values high – but it is difficult to recommend going to see it.

The 30-strong cast perform impeccably. They convince us that The Kitchen is a working environment, overflowing with rows and romances, consuming their lives and making them fight to retain their individuality. Tom Brooke does especially well as the German chef Peter and becomes the focus of the plays finale. Along the way, Samuel Roukin impresses and Rory Keenan’s comedy skills stand out.

The mechanics behind running a massive restaurant are brought to life by Sheibani quite remarkably. Giles Cadle’s set echoes the mass of the Olivier Theatre, with space for the impression of chaos and enough cookers to make you worry about the National’s gas bill. With a touch of fantasy (cue flying waitresses) the kitchen is presented as another world.

But the kitchen isn’t another world. The first act serves as an extended entrée to deeper concerns about the place of work in our lives, using the “united nations” of kitchen staff to look at life after the war – and dreams of improvement that began when the fighting stopped.

Much humour comes from the dated nature of what’s on the menu – the characters dream of chicken Kiev as an adventurous dish – but the nostalgic appeal of The Kitchen mixes uncomfortably with its politics. The first act isn’t meaty enough to make us care about the characters, while in the second the politics are too dated to engage with.

The 1950s are in vogue along the South Bank and celebrating Arnold Wesker makes sense, but The Kitchen seems so much of its own time that reviving it, no matter how thoughtfully, fails to whet the appetite.

Until 9 November 2011

www.nationaltheatre.org.uk

Photo by Marc Brenner

Written 9 September for The London Magazine

2011

“The God of Soho” at Shakespeare’s Globe

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The 18th century philosopher, Bishop Berkeley, posited that the world only exists in the mind of God. So if something goes wrong with the celestial cerebellum you’re in trouble – which is what happens in Chris Hannan’s new play The God of Soho, resulting in a mind-boggling – and ambitious – new drama.

Big God (the inimitable Phil Daniels) resides in a heaven in disarray. His daughter, the Goddess of Love, the excellent Iris Roberts, has an unrequited love for New God (a brave performance by William Mannering). The couple descend to earth where they mingle with Essex celebrities such as Natty, a commendable Emma Pierson, and the unhinged homeless on the streets of Soho. All of Hannan’s self-absorbed characters are searching for something real. However, this is far more interesting than merely an exploration of celebrity culture – these are people searching for a “raw skinned, butcher naked” reality.

Hannan appears to have none of the self-doubt that affects his characters. It is difficult to be bawdier the Elizabethans (this is the Globe, after all) but The God of Soho manages just that. It is positively filthy in every way: verbally and visually, with the laughs relying on obscenity. Nor does Hannan shy away from big themes. He juggles plenty of abstract concepts with a surfeit of allusions and enough topicality to make your head spin. The really impressive trick is the way in which he deals with so many ideas while creating characters real enough to care about.

Director Raz Shaw does a great job of marshalling Hannan’s text and injecting plenty of debauchery. Both writer and director have an eye for involving the crowd, essential at The Globe. With appropriately eclectic music provided by King Porter Stomp, The God of Soho is often a riotous affair. The production has a distinctive vision that is also disconcerting. Certainly, the world inside Hannan’s mind is a weird and wonderful place.

Until 30 September 2011

www.shakespeares-globe.org

Photo by Simon Kane

Written 2 September 2011 for The London Magazine

2011

“Halcyon Days” at the Riverside Studios

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Halcyon Days, the story of strangers who meet on an Internet suicide forum, is a surprising comedy. Writer and director Shoji Kokami takes what could be an earnest, morbid subject matter, and handles it so imaginatively that this potentially grim tale is rendered funny, even bawdy at times.

Kokami presents the story, not as reportage on an Internet phenomenon, but as a real life drama, toying with the fantasies his characters invent in the process. Mark Rawlings plays Hello Kitty, a closet homosexual seeking a flamboyant suicide as an end to his debts. He meets the delusional Masa, performed with intensity by Dan Ford, who is suffering from information overload, and believes that his own suicide could save the world.

This odd couple are joined by a counsellor called Kazumi, a character brought to life by Abigail Boyd, in a skilfully layered performance. Followed everywhere by a ghost (Joe Morrow, making an impressively impish London debut), Kazumi’s intention is to help the men but it’s clear she has issues of her own. A therapy session like no other ensues as the cast prepare a play about a lonely ogre and his friends – it’s deliciously mad stuff ‘yet there is method in’t’.

The blackest of humour pervades Halcyon Days, but there are also touches of farce. Aya Ogawa’s translation of Kokami’s play reveals puns a Carry On film would be proud of, and Rawlings does an especially great job playing up to them. But the halcyon referred to here is a sleeping drug: for all the fun that they are having, the characters are in no Arcadia. They have responsibilities in the real world, all revealed at a clever tempo to ensure that they are misfits that matter to us.

Halcyon Days has an elegiac streak that is central to Kokami’s precise pacing. As the cast gaze at the beauty of the night sky, they learn lessons about themselves and the world. Theirs is a trip to the dark side of the moon well worth watching.

Until 18 September 2011

www.riversidestudios.co.uk

Photo by Gerald Nino

Written 26 August 2011 for The London Magazine

2011

“Top Girls” at the Trafalgar Studios

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What an opening: given its first act, it’s no wonder Caryl Churchill’s Top Girls has such a great reputation. A riotous dinner party unites women from myth, history and fiction in an Absurdist tableau to discuss their lives, loves and deaths. The stuff of doctoral thesis is seldom this funny – witness the Victorian explorer’s racist faux pas towards the medieval Japanese noblewoman – but what makes the scene so riveting is Churchill’s ability to bring the pain these women experienced so close to the surface.

How this connects to the rest of Top Girls is another chapter in that thesis. The play becomes the story of the party’s host Marlene. An 80s career women with a recruitment agency, the role is performed superbly by Suranne Jones. Wonderfully attired and every inch the thrusting executive, Joseph Epstein could have had her in mind when he coined the phrase ‘yuppie’.

Marlene’s is a cruel world. One of her clients, in a stand-out performance from Lucy Briers (who has a great night, also playing Pope Joan), is a bitter middle manager of 47, who’s told that her age is a “disabling handicap”. And Marlene’s back story, escaping to the city, has enough drama when she returns to Ipswich to match The Homecoming.

Max Stafford-Clark’s assured direction does a lot of favours to Churchill’s text. He has the experience, having directed the premiere in 1982 at the Royal Court, and this new production arrives from Chichester with rave reviews.

Marlene’s casual rejection of her daughter Angie, played cogently by Olivia Poulet, is devastating – she’s no “top girl”. The family confrontation that centres on Angie’s future is electric, with a passionate performance from Stella Gonet, the character who gets to ask what will happen if the young girl just can’t “make it”.

Top Girls is political to its core. Marlene’s pin-up girl is Mrs Thatcher – she’d give her the job – and Churchill’s particular politics of fear, debatably, makes the play feel dated. But the strength of this revival is to show the nuances within this landmark play. The complexity of the characters indicates that there are still questions to ask – Churchill’s provocative presentation demands they are answered.

Until 29 October 2011

Photo by John Haynes

Written 17 August 2011 for The London Magazine

2011

“Crazy For You” at Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre

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Crazy For You, which had its Broadway debut in 1993, is a tribute musical woven from the work of George and Ira Gershwin. Inspired by the 1930 stage hit Girl Crazy, Ken Ludwig provides a new book and adds hit songs. An appropriately slim, yet seamless, plot has a banker-cum- wannabe-dancer disguising himself as a theatrical impresario in order to save a neglected theatre and win a girl.

Taking us from New York to Nevada, mixing the Ziegfeld Follies with the Wild West, there are plenty of laughs and, more importantly, plenty of tunes. Musical theatre takes any opportunity to sing -‘Let’s put on a show’ – and witness, without questioning, the power of a show tune to change lives. This is joyous stuff full of the feelgood factor.

The Regent’s Park production is marked by a justified sense of confidence, most notably in director Timothy Sheader’s lightness of touch. These days, Sheader has an enviable reputation for musicals and he has reunited the team that brought us Hello Dolly, including Peter McKintosh, whose intelligent costume design surely merits him another Olivier nomination.

Sheader gets the best out of his cast. Sean Palmer takes the lead of Bobby with ever-present charm and elegance. His love interest, Polly, is played by Clare Foster. Her voice doesn’t zing, but it is wonderfully sweet and her acting skills are superb. And there’s a thrilling supporting cast, including Harriet Thorpe and Kim Medcalf, with a string of great numbers.

Gershwin’s music is made to dance to. This is the real joy of Crazy For You and Stephen Mear’s choreography, full of wit as well as grace, does it justice. McKintosh provides a moon to ride and Tim Mitchell’s lighting design means the stars aren’t just in the skies above you. This team succeeds in making Regent’s Park more glamorous and romantic than it has ever been.

Until 10 September 2011

www.openairtheatre.org

Photo by Tristram Kenton

Written 11 August 2011 for The London Magazine