Category Archives: 2018

2018

“The Grinning Man” at the Trafalgar Studios

The theatre world often fantasises about the next big British musical, and a home-grown piece is always something to celebrate, so this work, spearheaded by composer and lyricist team Tim Phillips and Marc Teitler, has arrived from Bristol to the West End like a dream. The Grinning Man is original, polished and has a sense of integrity that, while making its success cultish rather than mainstream, wins respect.

The story is a fairy tale, heavy on the Gothic, but for grownups. Set in a familiar work, although with surprisingly little satire, our eponymous hero was disfigured as a child and is now a circus freak show. It’s a star role that Louis Maskell delivers with conviction. With a blind girlfriend and sinister adopted father in tow (Sanne Den Besten and Sean Kingsley), the much sung about “ugly beautiful” appearance of this charismatic changeling alters society for the better. The colourful royal family, with a strong quartet of performances from Julie Atherton, David Bardsley, Amanda Wilkin and Mark Anderson, all fall under his (inexplicable) spell. The only one on stage who seems immune is a villainous jester, for my money the lead of the show, brilliantly portrayed by Julian Bleach and winning most of the laughs.

The tale is as good as any by the Grimms. It’s based on a novel by Victor Hugo, and writer Carl Grose tackles it well. But the swearing, nymphomania and a bizarre incest plot make it adults only. It’s something of a puzzle – the temptation to appeal to a larger audience must have been great. A bigger problem is that the score only interests by including some bizarre electronic sounds and the songs aren’t catchy enough. While the dialogue is good, the lyrics, from Phillips, Teitler, Grose and also the show’s director Tom Morris, are too often uninspired.

Yet the production itself is an unreserved triumph. There’s fascinating movement and choreography from Jane Gibson and Lynne Page, accompanying Morris’s strong direction. And when it comes to portraying the worlds of circus and court, Jon Bausor’s design is magnificent. There’s a lot of puppetry, superb in design and execution, complemented by sets that are like a trip to Pollock’s toy shop. Topping it all, with a range of influences from steam punk to Gormenghast, are terrific costumes by Jean Chan. It’s the attention to detail, the look of the show, that puts smiles on faces.

Until 5 May 2018

www.thegrinningmanmusical.com

Photo by Helen Maybanks

2018

“Vincent River” at the Park Theatre

This welcome revival of Philip Ridley’s play from the year 2000 benefits from the sound direction of Robert Chevara. Confident with the superb storytelling, Chevara gives the text space, expertly judging time for vivid images to linger. Elements of a mystery story in this tale of an encounter between a bereaved mother and an enigmatic stranger add a more conventional element to the piece than is common with Ridley, and, again, Chevara makes the most of this – the plot is gripping. But Ridley’s dark imaginings are present, too, with the account of a vicious hate crime and the grief at its aftermath portrayed with startling originality.

Louise Jameson and Thomas Mahy take the roles of Anita and Davey, connected by the murder of Vincent. As the frequently angry mourning mother, Jameson is superb, conveying a moving, mounting pain as the play progresses. She’s initially suspicious of Davey’s motives for seeking her out, and the tension between the two is riveting. In this enigmatic role, Mahy seems a little trapped by his accent and doesn’t fully explore the dangerous eroticism of the character – Ridley’s suggestions of precocious sexuality are disturbing – yet the performance is full of nervous energy and always exciting, especially with the expert unravelling of his secrets.

Thomas Mahy
Thomas Mahy

The ideas about bodies, families, and memory – each so poetically conveyed – make Ridley’s writing the star of the show. An obsession with geography, with descriptions of places and their history, creates a visceral sense of East London and community. Toxic relationships battle with affection and romance throughout. Ridley’s descriptions of desire and the body, with such a tangible sense of fragility arising from the violence and illness in the play, are brilliant. Recounting trauma is common enough in theatre, but the stories Ridley’s protagonists tell each other have a therapeutic quality of intense emotion. A “mosaic of hands” in an artwork described by Davey might be a metaphor for how Ridley works. The result is a play of peculiar power.

Until 14 April 2018

www.parktheatre.co.uk

Photos by David Monteith Hodge

2018

“Kiss of the Spider Woman” at the Menier Chocolate Factor

Four decades is a long time in sexual politics, but it makes this revival of Manuel Puig’s story all the more interesting. There’s no shortage of clichés about gay life surrounding the imprisoned Molina, some of which might make you feel uncomfortable. But, as the relationship with his cell mate Valentin develops into something ‘beyond’ masculine and feminine, we see more clearly now than ever the original intention that Molina is a transgendered character. Missing the opportunity to cast a performer who identifies as such in the role is a debate I leave to others better qualified to discuss. But this timely new version, by José Rivera and Allan Baker, provides the kind of detailed depiction of human sexuality many crave to see on stage.

Jon Bausor’s ambitious design visualises Molina’s fantasy life. As he passes the time recounting and embellishing old movie plots, there are projections on to prison corridors and sound effects. The space surrounding the couple’s cell come into use: as love blossoms, the men start to venture outside, each step they take dramatically thrilling, leading to a magically poignant finale of escape through death. Sorry for the plot spoiler, but it would be surprising if anyone thought the play, set in a police state and full of torture, would end happily. The important point is a victory, of sorts, with both men’s spirits unconquered.

The show is a triumph for its stars, on stage without a break for just shy of two hours. Declan Bennett, well known as a musical theatre performer, shows his strength an actor playing Valentin. He’s a political prisoner and, while this element of the plot, and the tension surrounding it, is downplayed, Bennett convinces as a man of powerful integrity and intelligence. Samuel Barnett takes the role of Molina. He may ham up the more theatrical moments a touch, but he is never less than magnetic. Molina bargains with his captors, acting as a double agent, and there could be the suggestion of more complex motivations on his part. But the strategy is to present Molina wholly sympathetically and, pursuing this, Barnett secures affection for his character, making the show deeply moving.

Until 5 May 2018

www.menierchocolatefactory.com

Photo by Tristram Kenton

2018

“Caroline, Or Change” at the Hampstead Theatre

Well done to Edward Hall for bringing this Chichester Festival production to London. Director Michael Longhurst’s modest treatment of this major musical, about racism in the American south, has an intimacy that increases its intensity. The talents of Tony Kushner and Jeanine Tesori are awe inspiring, and this work ground breaking. The piece is sung throughout, so there’s a case for calling it an opera, but the genre doesn’t matter – this is simply something everyone should see.

Caroline, Or Change is at heart a “small domestic tragedy” about a middle-aged black maid, her children, and the family she works for. It’s a given that Sharon D Clarke would be good in the title role, but it’s a thrill to see just how great: her voice gives goose bumps and she portrays Caroline’s tough life, and harsher attitude, unflinchingly. Making Caroline heroic is interesting in itself, and seeing her through the eyes of Noah, the young boy she works for, is a brilliant device. She is not a wholly sympathetic character and Clark’s triumph is to balance the dramatic tension that results from this.

Following Caroline’s day, the washing machine, dryer, radio and bus she travels on all get songs. That might sound like Disney, but the music is for grown-ups and powerfully performed by Me’sha Bryan and Ako Mitchell, while T’Shan Williams, Sharon Rose and Carole Stennett make up a 60s-style singing trio. When allowed to keep coins Noah leaves in his laundry, Caroline’s struggles to take the child’s money. And all is played against the backdrop of the Civil Rights movement. So there’s change, big and small, with a heroine so poorly equipped to deal with either it becomes heart-breaking.

Kushner is a big ideas man, and there’s plenty of challenging thinking here. But these lyrics must count as some of the most extraordinary written. Along with propelling the plot, extending the family dramas and explicating historical events, the complexity of emotions expressed is remarkable. There’s wit, which makes many lines laugh out loud funny, and breath-taking imagery. Much of the text is pure poetry.

Matching Kushner’s skill with words comes the music of Jeanine Tesori. It’s a huge achievement that these lyrics never feel compromised: always clear, not a word out of place. The musical references have to be various, there’s a clash of cultures to evoke alongside a period feel. With gospel and blues comes Jewish folk music, the American anthem and Christmas carols. Weaved into all of these, with massive intelligence, are motifs for characters that provoke huge emotional impact.

Kushner and Tersori are smart and know great works require originality. Caroline, Or Change isn’t quite like anything else. It’s not just a matter of quirks – although it has delightful surprises – or contrariness. The audience goes home on a high (as it should). But Caroline’s fate is realistic, and any feelgood comes from the legacy of her children: led by her daughter Emmie, who wants to embrace the new and is given a suitably inspirational depiction by Abiona Omonua. Caroline herself can’t change. Given her life, could you? But putting such a fallible figure against dramas big and small is an important triumph of its own.

Until 21 April 2018

www.hampsteadtheatre.com

Photo by Marc Brenner

2018

“Brief Encounter” at the Empire Cinema

Seeing Emma Rice’s adaptation of Noel Coward’s film back in 2008 has long stayed in my memory – this is the story of a doomed romance that makes you fall in love with the theatre. Rice’s invention, changing Coward’s piece in many ways, as well as her passion and creativity, all make this an unmissable revival. The celebration at its return seems to have skewed the production slightly – put simply, it’s too funny – but the sense of triumph that it is back is one I wholeheartedly share.

The setting for the show is the cinema that hosted the movie’s premiere back in 1946, and the interactions between projected films and actors that occur throughout are breathtaking. But this isn’t a show of gimmicks. Rather, imagination is the key: from when Alec and Laura rise from seats amongst the audience to recount their love at first sight, leading to their painful goodbye, Rice adds music, acrobatics and witty theatricality at any opportunity – not a scene goes by without a memorable moment.

The couple, who contemplate rather than consummate their love, are well played by Jim Sturgeon and Isabella Pollen. Rice recasts the story to focus more on Laura in impressively empowering fashion, and Pollen conveys her character’s inner turmoil. Strong performances from two other couples, designed to show love at different stages of life, share the stage with Rice elaborating them all from Coward’s original. Lucy Tackeray and Dean Nolan delight as an older courting pair, a delicious combination of entendre and genuine passion. Beverly Rudd and Jos Slovick have roles as younger lovers and are similarly endearing. Slovick’s musical skills impress, and both get a lot of laughs.

Jos Slovick & Beverly Rudd
Jos Slovick & Beverly Rudd

The sense of taboo that drove Coward’s writing has disappeared and the story lacks its original tension as a result. It’s still moving – but Rice wants romance and she delivers it. There are so many beautiful moments in the production that hearts skip many a beat and it is the beauty of this Brief Encounter rather than its tragedy that we carry away with us.

Until 2 September 2018

www.briefencounterwestend.com

Photo by Steve Tanner

2018

“Trap Street” at the New Diorama

This new work from Kandinsky Theatre is about homes, communities and the housing crisis in London. Issues such as the poor planning of estates, and the inaccessible pricing of new buildings in London, are all addressed with a sensibly even hand so that the debate is comprehensive and intelligent.

Unlike the homes we see on stage, the architecture of this theatrical piece is sound. Focusing on one estate, and one family who moved in when it felt like a utopia, is a good idea. The play goes back and forth in time effortlessly, as we come up to date to see the family’s daughter holding out for a better price from the land’s new developers – a topical scenario with plenty of emotive power. But as a devised piece the play’s construction runs into problems: too many plot lines are raised and left unexplored. The show could easily be expanded beyond its 80 minutes and should have been edited with a stricter hand by its co-writers James Yeatman and Lauren Mooney.

As for the delivery of the show, a trio of performers does very well indeed. Amelda Brown effortlessly portrays both mother and daughter as the play moves around in time. As the former, she shows a steely determination and wins sympathy trying to build a community, then, as the daughter she is excluded from the area due to gentrification. Danusia Samal and Hamish MacDougall take on a wider variety of roles and there’s some snagging – pretending to be a dog is an idea that should have been abandoned in the rehearsal room – but both acquit themselves admirably and again manage the change in attitudes over time superbly. What Kandinsky has built here is something to be proud of.

Until 31 March 2018

www.newdiorama.com

Photo by Richard Davenport

2018

“Summer and Smoke” at the Almeida Theatre

The youthful courtships in Tennessee Williams’ plays are usually things of the past – recounted by his formidable heroines. Here the action unfolds before us and whether the affair between minister’s daughter Alma and her next-door neighbour John will evolve is filled with an exciting tension… if you’re an optimist or haven’t seem much Williams. Sense-talking Alma is hugely sympathetic, while John is sensitive and passionate, a doctor making a mess of his youth. Presented as two extremes of spirituality and physicality, a compromise between them would be good for both. It’d be nice if it worked out.

There isn’t a party at the end, sorry, and the 1948 play’s reputation isn’t much celebrated either. But this production is so strong it takes us well into the second act to see why. After an electrifying argument as John’s father lies murdered (I didn’t say there was no melodrama), the play drags its feet, harps on about unrequited love and becomes, well, mopey. Alma was, reportedly, Williams’ favourite heroine – her fire and fierce intelligence makes this understandable – but while the performance here, from Patsy Ferran, does her justice, Alma deserves better than the end she had written for her.

Unlike the play, the production is faultless. Rebecca Frecknall has directed the piece before and her close knowledge proves invaluable. Matthew Needham delivers a fine performance as John, who is filled with sexual frustration and confusion. Despite cruelties and misogynistic remarks, the attraction is clear. Using the play’s motif of doppelgängers Frecknall doubles her cast cleverly, which feels like a defining way to stage the show. And taking multiple roles as various love rivals to Alma means Anjana Vasan really gets to shine. The staging is simple yet beautiful, taking inspiration from Williams’ experimental works. Few props and no costume changes, just seven pianos forming a semi-circle and accompanying music from Angus MacRae that adds to the atmosphere immeasurably.

As for Ferran, she’s so good she gets her own paragraph here. Ferran’s performance is career making: she inhabits Alma but makes us question the character’s self-definition as “weak and divided”. Her physical frailty is painful to watch. Depicting the degeneration of her health is astounding and Alma’s struggle against illness both moving and determined. Ferran can even inject a sly humour, with a suggestive eyebrow that’s a great asset. Cast in a show that’s as smart as she clearly is, the combination is a production that makes as forceful a case for this flawed masterpiece as Williams himself could have wished for.

Until 7 April 2018

www.almeida.co.uk

Photo by Marc Brenner

2018

“The York Realist” at the Donmar Warehouse

The clue is in the title. Peter Gill’s romantic drama shows us a Yorkshire farming family, in the early 1960s, with daring verisimilitude. The love affair between a visiting theatre director, working on a production of the Mystery Plays, and a local amateur actor in his cast, opens up a time and place with startling particularity. Every lyrical line rings true – many will raise a smile, other are heart breaking – with a tone that is bravely quiet. It is in understanding this understatement that director Robert Hastie shows his appreciation and secures a superb revival for the piece.

The two well-written lead roles result in wonderful performances. Jonathan Bailey is the arty thespian, out of place in the countryside, carefully controlling the character’s urbane sophistication to make sure he is vulnerable and hugely likeable. Ben Batt is local farmer, George. It’s hard not to see him as heroic, a fantasy figure, so Batt does well to reveal depth: an amount of arrogance, some selfishness, a little fear behind the confidence all make him as intriguing as he is believable. The erotic tension between the men is palpable – this is a sexy play, and it’s remarkable to note we only see the two men touch once.

Being so low-key places particular demands on a cast. It’s an achievement from the whole ensembles to embrace the nuances in Gill’s writing, and conveying that restraint isn’t the same thing as repression. Lesley Nicol gives a stand-out performance as George’s mother, only hinting at her ill health in a fashion that strikes a chord with anyone who has had older relatives who are sick. The relationship with her son is a second love story in the play, equally rich in detail and resonance. And Lucy Black and Katie West give strong performances as two other women in George’s life, his sister and potential fiancée, both fully realised and offering yet more insight into the time and community.

The York Realist is a nostalgic piece, and whether this is good or bad is a matter of taste. Inspired by Gill’s own time working in York, a look back at his youth and a bygone age is bound to have a rosy tint. And there’s the period detail in Peter McKintosh’s meticulous set. Seeing the production at the Donmar (it transfers to Sheffield) the north-south divide often alluded too gets a few too many middle-class laughs. But the play itself is refreshingly free of condescension towards working-class life. There is a sense of calm that shows the steely determination in the writing: only one reference to the police indicates the illegality of the men’s acts, and George is comfortable with his sexuality so any angst is minimalised. What happens to the romance is sad, no doubt, as it’s the distance in class that separates them. But there’s little trace of the victim about either man, making the play an empowering, memorable pleasure.

Until 24 March 2018

www.donmarwarehouse.com

The production then transfers to Sheffield Theatres until the 7 April

Photo by Craig Fleming

2018

“Angry” at Southwark Playhouse

Courtesy of the estimable playwright Philip Ridley, these six monologues make for an inimitable night of theatre. There may well be a theme to Angry – it isn’t rage as such, since the emotions we watch and experience are legion, but what really unites each scene is startling writing and superb acting.

The monologues range in subject matter and the characters are diverse. At first, the audience is harangued and confronted by inexplicable fury. Next there’s an upbeat self-motivation speech. The language is poetic, with an ear for contemporary slogans. Both scenes urge us to “participation” – demanding responses from us with disconcerting direct addresses. But it’s Ridley’s magical imagination and skill at story telling that draws us in, taking us next into a dystopian future of bombs, riots… and severed heads on a dancefloor. From a first sexual encounter, to the memories of a character about to die – all human life is here. The imagery is vivid, the humour pitch black and the emotions visceral.

Bringing such accomplished scripts to the stage, director Max Lindsay creates an intense atmosphere from the moment an audience enters. The two actors pace around a shallow pit of a stage – the only time they are together – ready for confrontation. Lindsay has given the text the close study it deserves: every line is considered and, as a result, the performances are flawless. From near constant shouting (let’s not forget how technically difficult that is), there’s masterful comedy and emotions turning on a word. And knowing that both actors, Georgie Henley and Tyrone Huntley, learn it all and then alternate in performance, is quite simply breath-taking. It’s hard to praise this show enough.

Until 10 March 2018

www.southwarkplayhouse.co.uk

2018

“Abducting Diana” at the Hen and Chickens Theatre

The works of recently deceased Italian playwright Dario Fo are seldom performed in London these days, so a chance to see his bizarre blend of farce and politics should usually be seized upon. This mid-80s story of a kidnapped media mogul shows off his distinctive writing and indicates his work’s influence. The adaptation by Stephen Stenning is credible, if light on satire, with some nice touches to relocate the play to the UK. Stenning captures a crazy spirit that plays with an audience, which should lead to an invigorating anarchy. Unfortunately, the production itself is not a success.

Po’s work referenced commedia dell’arte, a tradition admittedly difficult to translate. But the bungling criminals here come too close to Punch and Judy. There’s no grace, no finesse that might lead you to relax and laugh – instead the show becomes difficult to watch. The role of a clergyman is similarly tricky. In Italy it might pack a punch, but Jake William Francis’s depiction is too timid. Having a man play Diana’s mother is smart, putting him in a twin set and pearls OK but in the role – and in heels – Brian Eastty looks so uncomfortable it is painful.

This is an ambitious play, with electrocutions and an exorcism. Ironically for a piece that sets the rich and the poor against each other, plenty of cash might have helped. Without strong technical backup, any production is going to struggle. But making excuses is patronising. A lot of the comic timing is off, and the physical comedy poor. The jokes aren’t bad… but I didn’t laugh once. Elena Clements does well as the lead – she’s a confident performer who suits the role – and Nicholas Bright impresses as his part in the plot twists and turns. There are dark, sexy, undertones that could challenge and disturb, but director Michael Ward seems happy to leave the play as a comfy comedy. And the biggest problem is that the pace is too slow, waiting for laughs that don’t arrive. The audience shouldn’t pause for incredulity to set in – here gaps are plentiful and the result awkward.

Until 17 March 2018

www.unrestrictedview.co.uk