Category Archives: 2015

2015

“Gypsy” at the Savoy Theatre

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Believe the hype. Jonathan Kent’s triumphant revival of Gypsy, coming from the Chichester Festival Theatre, deserves every one of the many stars critics have lavished upon it. And, as for stars, Imelda Staunton’s much lauded performance in the lead really is a triumph, attracting every superlative imaginable.

Of course, it helps that the musical itself is wonderful. Jule Styne’s score has hits and a satisfying coherence that builds power in a symphonic fashion. Arthur Laurents’ book is perfection: powerful family relationships and fundamental emotions elaborated through the story of a pushy showbiz mother, touring America’s dying Vaudeville circuit, and the bitter success of her daughter becoming the burlesque queen Gypsy Rose Lee. Stephen Sondheim’s lyrics are justly legendary, from ‘Have an Egg Roll Mr Goldstone’ to the phenomenal ‘Everything’s Coming Up Roses’.

This production of Gypsy has the highest standards. It feels like a bit of Broadway in the West End. Kent’s handling is loving – he knows he’s crafting a gem and creates a tremendous energy. The show sounds gloriously brassy, which is just right, while the detailed, mobile sets from Anthony Ward embody a ‘Hi, ho the glamorous life’ of travelling performers. There are strong performances from Gemma Sutton and Lara Pulver as Momma Rose’s long-suffering daughters, especially Pulver and she blossoms into the striptease sensation that is Gypsy.

Against this flawless backdrop, Staunton excels as Momma Rose. Surely there can be few roles more daunting – remember, the critic Frank Rich described the part as musical theatre’s unlikely answer to King Lear. And think of what big shoes there are to fill. Staunton’s comedy skills are the best around and, in Gypsy, her acting shines. When Staunton wants a laugh – she got it. But Momma Rose is grown with subtlety, her fragility well established before her final breakdown. This makes the famous scene of ‘Rose’s Turn’ startlingly brave and painfully real.

Curtain up until 28 November 2015

www.thesavoytheatre.com

Photo by Johan Persson

2015

“A Level Playing Field” at the Jermyn Street Theatre

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If school is a long time ago for you, it can be a challenge to enthuse about a play with kids taking exams. It’s an important topic, yes, but it takes strong writing to grab you. Happily, Jonathan Lewis’s A Level Playing Field holds its own alongside the impressive group of plays set in schools (and whoever included a copy of Julian Mitchell’s Another Country as a prop gets extra marks). Plenty of such plays have aims, but this one really convinces that the pressure youngsters are under nowadays, within a pernicious school system concerned only with grades, is a serious problem.

Any play about education will touch on broader themes, but Lewis’ focus is concentrated and controlled. It helps that his group of pupils, held in isolation between exams, are a fairly obnoxious private school bunch, who are at times difficult to warm to. The observations feel spot on, with intimate insight that avoids the mistake of making anyone too articulate (sorry, but The History Boys were just too clever by half).

The large cast are well differentiated, although I’d suggest three parts could be subsumed. Best of all is the strong ear for group dialogue that Lewis has a talent for (he wrote the hugely successful Our Boys). The students make a convincing group of peers and the dynamics between them is a neat study with plenty of laughs. As they slowly start to reveal their fears and aspirations, monologues that relate to their university applications form pithy vignettes.

When a teacher finally arrives – Joe Layton as the production’s only professional actor – it brings even more drama. As the play darkens, the humour develops and there are some touches of farce – a good idea that doesn’t quite succeed. But A Level Playing Field continues to serve as a terrific vehicle for its young cast of 18- and 19-year-olds. It’s against the spirit of the piece to grade anyone, but India Opzoomer and Elsa Perryman Owens both seem to inhabit their characters the most fully, while AJ Lewis takes the lead as Zachir with gusto. Both Jack Bass and Jojo Macari impress with their comic skills.

Indeed, the whole cast, for who this marks a first engagement, show more than just promise in a production that deserves much success. And the timing couldn’t be better. A Level Playing Field is surely essential viewing for anyone sharing space with a hormonally charged Sixth Former about to embark on their A level exams.

Until 9 May 2015

www.jermynstreettheatre.co.uk

2015

“Carmen Disruption” at the Almeida Theatre

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When you enter the Almeida Theatre for Simon Stephens’ latest play, Carmen Disruption, it’s via the stage. It seems part of a campaign by the Islington venue to shake up its audience and perfectly embodies this innovative and imaginative play’s spirit. If you’ve bought a ticket, congratulate yourself and take a bow… but be careful not to walk into an animatronic bull on your way in.

It doesn’t get any less weird. The play follows the nervous breakdown of a singer, who performs the role of Bizet’s Carmen all over the world, interweaving monologues from others, cast as archetypes from that opera, accompanied by a real singer as a chorus. Carmen Disruption clearly has enough arty touches to make plenty of eyes roll. But it works. Stephens’ magical touch creates a world of pure theatre – visionary and inspiring.

Stephens’ work can’t be easy for the actors but the performances are uniformly good. Viktoria Vizin, who has sung Carmen in 17 productions, has a voice that blows you away. Sharon Small, as The Singer, is superbly believable; I bet she’s been chatting to Vizin a lot about the pressured nomadic lifestyle of an opera star. Playing Stephens’ version of the title character, recast as a narcissistic rent boy, Jack Farthing is especially strong.

Michael Longhurst directs the production marvellously, with a control that gives Stephens’ text perfect space to breath. Lizzie Clachan’s design, along with stunning lighting by Jack Knowles, matches the poetry of the piece. Vitally, the whole team seems convinced by the power of the play.

Stephens’ motif is loneliness. His characters are isolated, desperate and frustrated, using whatever they can, mostly sex, to connect with others. Yet, despite some extreme behaviour and extravagant lifestyles, we can always connect with them. And no matter how strange the play feels, it is rooted. Much is sure to be made of the technology in the play – phones are plentiful and often commented upon – which gives Carmen Disruption its contemporary commentary, but the play’s power comes from universal themes.

Until 23 May 2015

www.almeida.co.uk

Photo by March Brenner

2015

“The Glass Protégé” at the Park Theatre

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A scandalous affair between two leading men in 1940s Hollywood, with the wicked studio system spoiling true love, is the subject of Dylan Costello’s The Glass Protégé. Even if you haven’t seen the play in its previous incarnation, entitled Secret Boulevard, the story seems the familiar stuff of gay folk law. While I don’t doubt the sincerity of the project, it’s clearly a labour of love, but what could be a serious story of passion feels trivial and sometimes dull.

David R. Butler plays Patrick Glass (the name a too transparent metaphor), an Oxford-revisited Englishman matched as a stereotype by a red-necked Texan, performed valiantly by Stephen Connery Brown, with whom he falls in love. Despite brave performances, the script doesn’t allow the leads to convince as film stars or lovers, with a romance that goes from tortured angst, via a Mae West impersonation, to a romp and betrayal, far too quickly.

Joining them, Emily Loomes works hard as Candice, a blonde starlet who isn’t dumb at all (are they ever?), while Mary Stewart, who can clearly hold a stage, has little to do as a bitchy gossip columnist who is, well, just a bitch. The play is fussily structured around flashbacks from the near-present day, which are more satisfactory than the potted history, as the older Patrick (Paul Lavers) deals with his demons and his son (Roger Parkins), along with the play’s only intriguing character, an East German immigrant, played well by Sheena May.

While the cast struggles with the script, director Matthew Gould doesn’t help, showing little thought about the small space worked in or the pace of the piece. The biggest problem, though, is the dialogue. The actors’ lines, surely meant to reflect the ‘garbage’ film they are working on, consist of clichés, platitudes and repetition (Hollywood is nasty – we get it). Exposition is clunky and characters merely vehicles. Attempts at profundity ring hollow time after contrived time and the play’s portentousness becomes tiresome.

Until 9 May 2015

www.parktheatre.co.uk

Photo by Krisztian Sipos

2015

“Oppenheimer” at the Vaudeville Theatre

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The RSC’s transfer of Tom Morton-Smith’s new play immerses us in the history of the first atomic bomb and the mind of its maker, J Robert Oppenheimer. It’s a story with overwhelming potential – a rich mix of documentary and speculation – and the play is fascinating, if over ambitious. Angus Jackson’s direction deserves credit for inventive staging that aids dryer moments, using Robert Innes Hopkins design, and an impressive injection of music from Grant Olding.

Overall, strong performances balance some over enthusiastic accents – émigré scientists drafted onto the project to build the bomb prove too much of a temptation – so acting that benefits the script sits alongside some delivery that’s tricky to comprehend. The women in the piece stand out, both Hedydd Dylan and Catherine Steadman, as Oppenheimer’s love interests, do well with roles that come perilously close to tokenistic.

There are passages of writing that make it clear how talented Morton-Smith is. But he seems in thrall to history and detail, so the play ends up too long. Are this many characters really needed to explain the allegation that Oppenheimer turned his back on friends and ideals to win fame? And difficult though the science is, I’ve seen better attempts at explaining complex theories on stage. The biggest problem is knowing where to end the story: the bombs’ impact on all our lives might be a whole other play – tacking it on to this one doesn’t do the phenomena justice.

Nor does Morton-Smith make it easy for his leading character. Oppenheimer is a man of iron, cold and remote, yet forced to reveal enough trauma for any lifetime. His affairs, childhood, politics and philosophy are all tackled and none of it is simple. All the more credit, then, to John Heffernan in the title role. Seldom have I seen a show rest so heavily on its leading man. Heffernan’s performance confirms his status as one of the finest actors around – conveying the complexity of the physicist, making all that history and politics seem manageable and even convincing us of his character’s particular charisma. A stunning performance that gives this show enough bang to counter the occasional whimper.

Until 23 May 2015

www.rsc.org.uk

Photo by Keith Pattison

2015

“The Three Lions” at the St James Theatre

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One of the funniest plays I’ve seen in a long time, William Gaminara’s The Three Lions imagines the meeting of David Cameron, Prince William and David Beckham, as they campaign for England to host the 2018 FIFA World Cup. Every ounce of comic potential in the scenario is exploited and the play opens up to be about far more than football – politics, power, celebrity and compromise – all perfect sport for excellent satire.

The material is superb and the demanding mix of one-liners and farce played expertly. Ably supported by Antonia Kinlay, as Cameron’s gushing PR, and Ravi Aujla, as a suspiciously effusive hotel employee, the three leads give a winning hat-trick of performances. All embrace the caricatured, public faces of these famous men, so the portraits convincingly duplicate what we think we know about Cameron’s slickness, William’s blandness or Beckham’s intellect.

Tom Davey has the hardest job as Prince William, a generic nice-but-dim, but reveals a taste for practical jokes perfectly. Cameron comes out well, with Dugald Bruce-Lockhart’s careful study of a leader new to power and struggling with it already. A scene where Cameron swaps trousers with Beckham caused so much laughter I missed some lines. Stealing the show is Séan Browne’s Beckham. And not just because of the casting coup of an uncanny physical resemblance. As soon as Browne opens his mouth he has won the audience and there are countless times when Beckham’s idiotic replies are deftly handled.

While Gaminara’s targets might be easy, there’s nothing mean spirited about The Three Lions. And there’s a healthy undercurrent of anger about the abuses of power that are the play’s real concern. The text has a mass of gags and it’s Philip Wilson’s direction that ensures its success. There must be a football metaphor for how sure his work is: never taking his eye off the ball and scoring with each line. Simply insert your favourite football manager here to praise his work. Not that an interest in the game is needed to enjoy this beautifully crafted piece: huge fun, superbly done, Premier League stuff.

Until 2 May 2015

www.stjamestheatre.co.uk

Photo by Craig Sugden

2015

“Sweeney Todd” at the English National Opera

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Lonny Price’s production of Stephen Sondheim’s Sweeney Todd has been widely anticipated since its rapturous reception in New York last year. Now the hot ticket at the ENO, opera megastar Bryn Terfel plays the demon barber, seeking revenge for the injustice that ruined his family while supplying his landlady Mrs Lovett with filling for her cannibalistic pies.

The jewels at the centre of the production are the orchestra and chorus. It’s a precious treat to hear a Sondheim score performed so masterfully, under the baton of David Charles Abell, while a massive chorus, of mostly young musical theatre performers, benefits from the Coliseum’s impressive acoustics and thrilling atmosphere. This Sweeney Todd sounds fantastic.

ENO Sweeney Todd Emma Thompson and ensemble (c) Tristram Kenton
Emma Thompson and ensemble

The quality of many secondary roles is notable. Matthew Seadon-Young and Katie Hall are irresistible as the young lovers Anthony and Johanna. Hall’s performance of ‘Green Finch and Linnet Bird’ is the best I’ve heard. The excellent Rosalie Craig plays the Beggar Woman and Philip Quast is superb as the villainous Judge Turpin.

But what of the stars? There’s an impression we wouldn’t be here without Terfel and Emma Thompson as Mrs Lovett, here returning to the stage after 25 years. The audience response may be hysterical but minimal chemistry between the leads means they aren’t really a dream team. Thompson’s celebrity aura never quite leaves her – it doesn’t help she’s dressed like Helena Bonham Carter on a night out – and while her voice is surprisingly strong she is not that funny. It’s a serious allegation but I suspect a moment of shameful scene stealing as a curtseying exit is carried on far too long. Terfel isn’t the greatest actor you’ll ever see, but casting him makes sense. His stage presence cannot be doubted, and any inadequacies can be forgiven for his magnificent voice: pray for a cast recording.

Despite Terfel’s magisterial voice and that wonderful orchestra, Price presents a stripped-back Sweeney Todd. A minimal feel plays with the idea of a concert performance, with musicians on stage interacted with and simple banners used for signage. Musical instruments are transformed into props and the sense of scale comes from the large numbers of people on stage.

Price’s staging is witty and clever but there’s an unwanted irony that couldn’t have been anticipated. This kind of inventiveness, abundant and impressive as it is, is usually seen on the fringe rather than in an opera house. For those lucky enough to have seen the Tooting Arts Club’s production of Sweeney, which has its own West End transfer, it makes for a strange comparison. The two productions couldn’t be of more different scales but it’s possible, and oddly inspiring, that a small team from South London has made the more memorable show.

Until 12 April 2015

www.eno.org.uk

Photo by Tristram Kenton

2015

“Princess Ida” at the Finborough Theatre

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Saturday’s matinee at the Finborough Theatre saw Chelsea fans in the bar downstairs mix with operetta buffs coming to see a new production of Gilbert and Sullivan’s Princess Ida. My fears that football cheers would drown out the music were unfounded – a strong cast of singers was more than a match for the Blues.

Director Phil Willmott scores his first goal with his revision of the piece; trimmed and tidied so well that only a real purist could take offence. Princess Ida is a less popular work from the G & S canon (I’d like to think because of its old fashioned sexism) and not as funny as their best, with the satire resting too firmly in its day, but Willmott makes the work light and snappy. We have more princes trying to marry Ida, yet fewer characters overall and are missing a King. The plot is simpler and sillier.

Focusing more on courtship than courtiers, alongside a beefed up role for Ida’s father, now a guardian, the roles are a delight when they could easily have been boorish. And while I think it’s a shame our heroine doesn’t stay in the women’s university she sets up, an audience in 1884 clearly wasn’t ready for an idea like that. Cheeky changes Willmott concludes with guarantee a smile. And of course the music and lyrics are kept, if reorganised, skillfully adapted for piano by Richard Baker and Nick Barstow – anything else would be a home goal.

Like many musicals on the fringe, miraculously, Princess Ida doesn’t feel small. With a cast of 14 on the tiny stage, Thomas Michael Voss’ choreography is a marvel. Willmott’s revisions make it feel like there are no small parts here, but Bridget Costello and Zac Wancke sound especially sweet in their ballads. For the hat-trick Simon Butteriss has to be singled out as his experience with patter really shows – his deliciously lecherous villain is worth every word. I don’t know the result of the football match, but this Princess Ida got my cheers.

Until 18 April 2015

www.finboroughtheatre.co.uk

Photograph by Scott Rylander

2015

“Rules For Living” at the National Theatre

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Using, of all things, Cognitive Behaviourial Therapy as a very literal framework, Sam Holcroft’s new play for the National Theatre makes for a riotous evening. A family’s foibles are revealed to us in the form of their coping strategies, or ‘rules for living’, to use the therapists’ term, on a game show-style screen – all part of Chloe Lamford’s witty set. So we know, for example, that one character sits down when they lie and another stands up to tell a joke. Every move realises its comic potential.

Holcroft’s strategy is a neat gimmick that’s so effective that the actors have half the work done for them. Nonetheless the cast is superb. Stephen Mangan and Miles Jupp are brilliant as brothers who reveal their competitive streak and long-held grudges. Claudie Blakley and Maggie Service play their partners, full of repression and insecurities, revealed, respectively, by booze and bad jokes. Best of all is Deborah Findlay as the mother who ‘cleans to keep calm’ – a performance that magically transcends her deliberately recognisable character to become comedy gold.

Rules For Living might be a touch too long in places, and the final act adds disappointingly little, but Marianne Elliott’s direction is impeccable and the jokes have a high hit rate. And underneath the original twist is an old-fashioned dysfunctional family comedy – it’s even set at Christmas – that works superbly. The show gets better the sillier the events and the characters become. The culminating luxury food fight alone means you get your ticket money’s worth. It’s not a play if you hate to see food wasted, but the whole thing is a great deal of fun.

Until 8 July 2015

www.nationaltheatre.org.uk

Photo by Simon Annand

2015

“Buyer and Cellar” at the Menier Chocolate Factory

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It’s a pretty crazy premise: a man working alone in a shopping mall created by Barbra Streisand underneath her home. But hold on – the bit about the shops, designed to hold Streisand’s various collections, is true. Jonathan Tolins’ award-winning one man play, Buyer and Cellar, overflows with jokes that arise from this bizarre scenario, while serving as a tremendous vehicle for Michael Urie, as out-of-work actor Alex, giving one of the most endearing performances you’re likely to see.

Alex’s meeting with Streisand, who Urie also plays, makes for an enchanting fiction. Stephen Brackett’s direction carefully preserves a spontaneous feel that makes Alex so personable. His mix of wry humour and naïve enthusiasm goes to the heart of a play very much about cynicism. There are great one-liners, slow-burning gags and plenty of observations about gay life. With a Jewish mother joke as well, of course.

Just when you thought things couldn’t get any camper, Alex starts to coach Streisand for a new film version of Gypsy. And if the casting strikes you as impractical as quickly as it does Alex’s boyfriend (another character Urie conveys impressively), then this is the play for you.

Buyer and Cellar works hard to be more than an extended comedy sketch: looking at the nature of celebrity and questions of self-worth. There’s a West Coast wisdom behind a lot of the jokes that stays with you. It has to be admitted that a knowledge of Streisand, a Yiddish dictionary and familiarity with LA helps – but even without these (believe it or not) I roared with laughter. How Tolins manages to take so many swipes at his icon without the piece feeling mean, while cleverly using Streisand’s status to create his own art, makes his play unique and somehow quite magical. He’s a mensch.

Until 2 May 2015

www.menierchocolatefactory.com

Photo by Joan Marcus