Category Archives: 2019

2019

“A Taste of Honey” at the Trafalgar Studios

More than 60 years after the play’s premiere, and three years since he first directed it at the National Theatre, Bijan Sheibani’s new revival continues to show that Shelagh Delaney’s superb play is as fresh as you could wish.

Sheibani adds a sophisticated flourish to the production with an on-stage three-piece band and music from Benjamin Kwasi Burrell. Popular songs provide introductions to characters and ease the play’s episodic structure. Although sometimes elegiac, the music adds an energy to the show that, despite my admiration for the text, is admittedly needed.

Gemma Dobson and Jodie Prenger in 'A Taste of Honey'
Gemma Dobson and Jodie Prenger

As well as putting some soul into Salford, Sheibani’s close knowledge of the piece has led to sharp performances that do justice to Delaney’s wonderful characters. Jodie Prenger is great as the wicked mother Helen: razer sharp and brutally honest, she’s funny and smart even if you wouldn’t want her as a family member. Gemma Dobson plays her daughter Jo with bold intelligence. Refusing to make the character too sympathetic, she’s a brittle teenager who is frequently unappealing. The bickering matches between the two women are a highlight but the humour is controlled; A Taste of Honey isn’t a comedy no matter how funny both women are. Moments of hope, fear and pain are all regularly glimpsed and then hidden with frightening speed.

Durone Stokes and Gemma Dobson in "A Taste of Honey" credit Marc Brenner
Durone Stokes and Gemma Dobson

Performances from the men in both women’s lives are just as good. Durone Stokes makes a dashing love interest for Jo, while Tom Varey plays Helen’s new husband just the right side of villain. Stuart Thompson may have the trickiest role as Geof – Delaney’s precocity gets the better of her characterisation here, it’s amazing to think she wrote the play at 19 – but his performance is still one to be proud of.

That the play is concerned with Northern working-class lives still feels unusual. Treating its central female characters as intelligent and complicated remains depressingly rare. While rooted in its time and place, Sheibani’s production shows a play that’s still for today; a piece he makes it easy to relate to, while never compromising on Delaney’s distinctive voice.

Until 29 February 2020

nationaltheatre.org.uk

Photos by Marc Brenner

2019

"Curtains" at Wyndham’s Theatre

Although this musical comedy by Kander and Ebb – creators of Cabaret and Chicago – is never going to be regarded as their best work it’s still a credible piece, being clever, funny and always entertaining. It’s a spoof of musical theatre itself and of the detective genre, which means there’s a lot going on. Unfortunately, at the unhappy performance I attended, it feels that the content is simply too much for this company to tackle.

Jason Manford and Leah Barbara West
Jason Manford and Leah Barbara West

At an out-of-town run for a turkey of show called Robbin Hood, the drunken star is killed while taking an underserved bow. And since that death might be the best thing for those onstage and off, the suspects are plentiful. In a nice twist, our detective, Frank Cioffi, is a theatre lover who sets about saving the show as well as solving the crime. Jason Manford takes the sleuthing role and acquits himself well. It’s a shame that there’s too little chemistry with his love interest Niki (played by Leah Barbara West). These are well-written roles that feel neglected by director Paul Foster, who plumps instead for the eye-catching director and producer characters who provide comedy highlights via the performances of Samuel Holmes and Rebecca Lock.

Samuel Holmes in 'Curtain' at Wyndhams Theatre
Samuel Holmes

Kander and Ebb don’t make things easy for themselves (or anyone) as Robbin Hood is reworked, and improved before our eyes. It’s an interesting idea for lovers of the genre but needs more pace and more signposting than Foster provides. As Noises Off just down the road shows, when you pretend to be bad you really have to be very good. A delay at the start of my showing created suspicions of problems, then a real scenery malfunction created very much the wrong atmosphere.

Curtains The Musical credit The Other Richard
Alan Burkitt

Of course, this is just one performance in a long run, and such things happen. But there are other disappointments. Having only seen the show in a fringe production before, I should have found a large-scale version more exciting. Foster doesn’t infuse enough ambition into the piece and the stage seems sparsely populated. Alistair David’s choreography does not help; the dance seems laboured – no matter how well delivered by Alan Burkitt and Emma Caffrey, who do well with their roles as Bobby Pepper and Bambi Bernet – an awful lot of effort for little result. Worse still, Curtains should be a lot funnier: Rupert Holmes’ book builds expertly and the lyrics are smart. For some reason, the composers of the show within the show seem instructed not to even try for a laugh, which means that performances from Andy Coxon and Carley Stenson may sound great but end up – like the production as a whole – flat and disappointing.

Until 11 January 2020

curtainsmusical.com

Photos by Richard Davenport

2019

"Teenage Dick" at the Donmar Warehouse

Joining a slew of strong American plays to reach London this year, the work of Mike Lew receives a British premiere under the energetic direction of Michael Longhurst. Along with its provoking title, this reimagining of Shakespeare’s Richard III as a high-school drama ends up somewhat burdened by its concept. But it is more than just a smart exercise: insisting a disabled actor plays theatre’s most famous disabled character provides a superb vehicle for Daniel Monks, who takes the title role, and brings issues surrounding disability powerfully to the fore.

So, at Rosewood High the war that student Richard Gloucester starts is one for class presidency. He’s unwittingly aided by his friend ‘Buck’ and his teacher Mrs York (great performances from Ruth Madeley and Susan Wokoma) while his rivals are football star Eddie and over-achiever Clarissa (less satisfactory roles that Callum Adams and Alice Hewkin still do well with).

Daniel Monks, Ruth Madeley, Callum Adams and Alice Hewkin in 'Teenage Dick' at the Donmar Warehouse
Daniel Monks, Ruth Madeley, Callum Adams and Alice Hewkin

Such moves are not unfamiliar (Lucy Monroe will tell you about them in the programme) and Lew manages well enough. There are some amusing references to the play, and the meta-textuality (which even the worst of this genre shows) is plentiful. Openly acknowledging Richard’s arcane language (in itself interesting and impeccably delivered) – and how it contrasts with the other characters’ speech – is fun. Trouble is, this game can get tiring quickly.

Siena Kelly and Daniel Monks in 'Teenage Dick' at the Donmar Warehouse
Siena Kelly and Daniel Monks

Thankfully, Lew knows he has to be more than just playful. Both Richard and his love interest, Anne Margaret – who it’s acknowledged deserves a play of her own – provide emotional weight as the play grows. Focusing on Anne Margaret (played brilliantly by Siena Kelly) shows Lew’s strong writing – including a particularly harrowing scene that needs a warning – and the role goes some way to grounding the play.

That Monks is hemiplegic undoubtedly makes a difference to the story we know and leads to powerful scenes of Richard dancing and debating. Disability is stated as the reason for the character’s unpopularity – a stark suggestion – and from this comes his platform to change the “order of things” in school society. Unfortunately, whether his pledge is for the better or just for power gets a little lost.

Throughout, Lew plays with our expectations of Richard the character and of people with a disability. The layering effect seems less interesting than the mix of pity, hate and fear that the contemporary teen experiences. That’s the bit we’ve not seen before, while the Shakespeare seems a distraction. Lew’s exploration is seldom subtle – but it’s frequently effective. The challenge, that the audience assumes Richard can’t be the hero – and so must be the villain – raises problems too frequently ignored.

Until 1 February 2020

www.donmarwarehouse.com

Photos by Marc Brenner

2019

"The Boy Friend" at the Menier Chocolate Factory

Sandy Wilson’s light-as-a-feather-boa musical was a legendary hit in the 1950s. Superb work from Matthew White, assisted with direction by his choreographer Bill Deamer, show us why.

It’s hard to imagine a show more fantastically escapist. Inspired by work from the 1920s, please remember The Boy Friend was nostalgic nonsense from its inception. The romantic adventures of rich kids and their elders on the French Riviera are deliberately low stakes. White appreciates the piece needs to appear effortless and banishes worries from the stage.

Tiffany Graves in 'The Boyfriend' at the Menier Chocolate Factory
Tiffany Graves as Hortense

The characters are flat-as-cardboard cut-outs and a marvellous cast understand the humour this can generate. There’s a wonderful sweetness to our leading lovers, Polly and Tony, given a fresh feel by Amara Okereke and Dylan Mason, who both sound fantastic. A star-turn from Janie Dee, as a head teacher with a past, is just as delightful. Dee allows you to laugh at the character while believing she’s sophisticated (and that’s hard). Meanwhile her maid, Hortense, is a brilliant vehicle for Tiffany Graves, who embodies the comedic tone. Within a minute of coming on stage she’s given us an accent Vicki Michelle would be proud of and crossed her legs like Cupid Stunt. It’s clear, very quickly, you need to relax and enjoy yourself.

Jack Butterworth and Gabrielle Lewis-Dodson in 'The Boyfriend' at the Menier Chocolate Factory
Jack Butterworth and Gabrielle Lewis-Dodson

Talking of legs, there’s plenty of them in The Boy Friend. Deamer’s work as choreographer foregrounds the piece’s potential as a dance show and the limbs of the cast deliver. There’s the Charleston, tap, tango and the show’s very own ‘Riviera’. Winning the high-kicking competition is Gabrielle Lewis-Dodson as “mad-cap Maisie” whose dances with her beau Bobby (Jack Butterworth) are a dream. On a relatively small stage, there are moments when the show feels cramped – transfer anyone? – but the dancing consistently impresses with its wit and sense of ease, just the qualities needed here.

Wilson’s cynicism is of the gentlest kind – which White is strict in preserving – and the result is frothy from first to last. But don’t be fooled; this easy fun has work behind it. The score is a perfect combination of comedy numbers, catchy tunes and sentimental ballads. The lyrics are consistently smart and very funny. This is a show constructed to make you clap – nearly every number has a reprise – it is literally built to please.

Rejoicing in pink lighting from designer Paul Anderson for that vie en rose touch and gorgeous costumes from Paul Farnsworth that got a round of applause the night I attended (I can’t remember the last time that happened in the theatre), White and his team create a bubble of happiness. It’s all smiles, romance and charm, with every performer seeming to enjoy themselves. Why not, when there’s so much love in the air? The Boy Friend is a show to simply adore.

Until 7 March 2020

www.menierchocolatefactory.com

Photos by Manuel Harlan

2019

"Snowflake" at the Kiln Theatre

Even if you think Christmas plays aren’t for you, Mike Bartlett might change your mind. Here’s a show that, thankfully, doesn’t expect us to switch off our brains during December. And in this look at contemporary family life there’s not a trace of the nostalgia that consumes the festive season. At the same time, Snowflake ends a long way from doom and division: Bartlett gives us a heart-warming and clear lesson that’s feelgood enough to teach any Scrooge.

Starting with a 40-minute monologue from Elliot Levey, as Andy waiting to see his daughter for the first time in three years, the first pleasure here is a brilliant performance. And maybe a cheeky streak? How much is Bartlett playing with the fact that this middle-aged, middle-class man – given such a massive role – is just the person we hear too much from in the theatre?

Depending on your age, you might find Andy patronising to the point of being insufferable…or maybe just lame. At first the generation gap is gently prodded; the humour is pretty standard. But there’s real pain behind the Dad jokes. Andy doesn’t know why he is estranged from his daughter Maya. He is still grieving for his wife. And he feels his age, comparing himself to an Anglo-Saxon dummy on display at his local museum. Bartlett’s skill is to give us a midlife crisis that’s interesting (for once) and Levey does a brilliant job with it.

It’s pretty obvious that a confrontation with Andy’s daughter will occur. But Bartlett handles this well, too, and I wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise. Suffice to say that, with the aid of Clare Lizzimore’s sure-handed direction, not one but two younger voices get to be heard. Amber James’ character, Natalie, provides a welcome, energising hit, bringing fine challenges to Andy’s views and more humour to the piece. Ellen Robertson takes the part of Maya. Of course, in reference to that distasteful description of the millennial generation, she is the snowflake of the title – but Robertson makes Maya a formidable character and effectively ups the emotional stakes.

Again and again, Bartlett predicts the different responses his audience might have, twisting arguments and emotions to answer prejudices and predispositions. The result is a play with an agility that’s in keeping with the message that we all need to take more time to listen to one another better. And that maybe now is the time of year to do so. If that sounds pat, then clearly you really don’t like Christmas, let alone Christmas plays. Admittedly, there’s a sentimental streak to the show. But, since it’s partly Bartlett’s point that the season of good will should be extended to all – even those who voted for Brexit – it’s only fair to make allowances for a writer with Yuletide in mind.

Until 25 January 2020

www.kilntheatre.com

Photo by Manuel Harlan

2019

“A Kind of People” at the Royal Court

Set around a group of former school friends, this stimulating new play has a tender romance at its core. Intelligently written by Gurpreet Kaur Bhatti and confidently directed by Michael Buffong, the piece is a slice-of-life polemic of considerable dramatic power.

A long-devoted couple, Gary and Nicky, are working-class heroes the like of which are still too seldom seen on stage. Their struggles highlight issues around race and class in contemporary urban Britain. The toll taken by prejudice has a profound personal impact on the lovers and the questions raised are important.

Amy Morgan in "A Kind of People" at the Royal Court
Amy Morgan

You might argue that Gary’s objectionable white boss, Victoria, whom Bhatti uses as her starting point for looking at racism, is too much of a straw figure. Not because people don’t hold such views – or that Amy Morgan is at all lacking in the role – it’s just that most people hide their prejudice better. But, following scenes that ignite the audience against Victoria, there’s the suggestion that, when accused of racism, the character uses her sex as a defence: a bold move by Bhatti that makes the atmosphere in the theatre electric. 

Manjinder Virk in "A Kind of People" at the Royal Court
Manjinder Virk

It’s clear how smart – and provocative – this writing is. A second incident of prejudice comes from a Muslim mouth. Focusing on class, taking in the metropolitan obsession about schools, it is Anjum, a likeable Muslim mother, who uses that loaded phrase “people like you” against her white friend Nicky. The moment is made all the more shocking by the fact that this is a character, with a performance expertly crafted by Manjinder Virk, who has made us laugh and whom we admire.

Petra Letang in "A Kind of People" at the Royal Court
Petra Letang

Although each of the wonderfully observed characters we meet provides a take on race or class, Bhatti’s skill makes sure none of them feels like a device from a playwright. There is considerable nuance in A Kind of People, and it reflects complex lives and problems. There are strong performances too from Thomas Coombes, Asif Kahn and especially Petra Letang, whose character Karen injects a fantastic no-nonsense humour. But the play belongs to its central roles, which are developed superbly. Gary has a troubled emotional journey, becoming a man “drowning in anger”, plotted by Richie Campbell with impressive understatement. Claire-Louise Cordwell’s depiction of Nicky follows a different trajectory – she is a rock that crumbles with frightening suddenness in a performance that does justice to the blunt force contained within this sophisticated play.

Until 18 January 2020

www.royalcourttheatre.com

Photos by Manuel Harlan

2019

"Joan of Leeds" at the New Diorama Theatre

Breach Theatre’s successful new musical comedy is a rude and riotous show that could become a cult classic.

If you love a nun in a musical (and why wouldn’t you?), Joan of Leeds has three of them. Brilliantly decked out in safety-orange habits, that they’re mediaeval nuns adds to the fun. And – even better – it turns out they’re all pretty rude. The dramatic dilemma for our titular heroine, played with a suitably feisty attitude by Bryony Davies, is a struggle with her carnal desires. She’s tempted by saints as well as sinners and tries not to succumb… just not for long.

Joan isn’t just a naughty nun, she’s a lesbian one. With her Sapphic sister, a role that allows Rachel Barnes scope for her excellent singing, there are tender moments, considering this is all-out comedy. And we can leave inspired as the couple prompts a sexual revolution for the 14th century that (with a touch of Ken Russell) might be a bit too much for some people even today.

Alex Roberts and Bryony Davies in Breach Theatre's "Joan of Leeds"
Alex Roberts and Bryony Davies

Add in Joan’s escape from the convent (she’s the original nun on the run) and time as a bored housewife, and there’s plenty going on. Aiding all the action is a great Mother Superior, Joan’s psychiatrist and… the devil: all played with fantastic comic skills, and no inhibitions, by Alex Roberts and Laurie Jamieson.

Meanwhile, Joan’s Bishop turns into the villain of the piece. It’s a great role for Olivia Hirst, whose character tries to narrate, in verse, and control the action with increasing frustration. Hirst uses the Yorkshire accent to especially good effect and gets the most of co-writers Elice Stevens and Billy Barrett’s consistently delicious rhymes.

Joan of Leeds is full of funny touches – keep your eyes peeled. But its success really comes from providing takes on not one but two genres. Based on a believe-it-or-not story, Joan did exist, and the show is an effective spoof on documentary theatre, showing us the story’s manipulation as we watch it. Being presented by the Yorkshire Mystery Players, there’s also a twist on am-dram-goes-wrong. So we get all the usual fun of “professional enthusiasts” not quite coping – handled expertly by the real director, Barrett. Such a firm base makes the show double the fun and smart from start to finish.

Until 21 December 2019

www.newdiorama.com

Photos by The Other Richard

2019

"Fairview" at the Young Vic

This Pulitzer Prize-winning play by Jackie Sibblies Drury is a challenging piece that explores racism in such a bold manner that it makes for uncomfortable viewing. There’s no doubt that Fairview is startling theatre – its potency and originality are embedded in its very structure. Beware plot spoilers as the action, sturdily directed by Nadia Latif, is deliberately – and brilliantly – disorientating. It’s impossible to forget that its award is American: many of the references are culturally specific and the final fourth-wall-breaking scene may have a different response in the UK. But, sure to prompt plenty of discussion, it will be fascinating to see if a work about cultural divisions can cross the Atlantic divide.

The cast of "Fairview" at the Young Vic
Naana Agyei-Ampadu, Nicola Hughes and Rhashan Stone

First, we see an African American family dinner, played as a light sit-com that becomes surprisingly tiresome. The scene is then repeated as mime while we hear another set of actors debate race. The later dialogue proves truly excruciating – increasingly so as it becomes clear that they are talking about what we are watching.

Using those theories about the gaze so admired by cultural studies (and turning the tables on an audience) certainly makes the play powerful. The toe-curling talk presumably plays at being even-handed – regardless of the politics of those overheard, they are all pretty awful. So, you might think Drury is a little tough on a well-off liberal? Or that the treatment of an ignorant French speaker is a little silly? Maybe you’ll get nervous about the cultural appropriation of a third talker who later appears as a drag queen? And I’d rather just skip the fourth ‘shock-jock’ style interlocutor. The dialogue, and its interaction with what we see on stage, is often funny but also infuriating.

We have to get back to that drag queen. The voices heard – who turn out to be Caucasian performers – come to the stage as family members. The resulting action is frantic and a sense of chaos not quite controlled by Latif. Fairview is obsessed by performance – from films and dancing to how we behave in front of others – and generates bold questions, notably about the fluidity of identity, that Drury is brave to raise. Writing of such intelligence creates a daunting number of layers to negotiate.

The only caveat is that the play deconstructs so much that the result is bewildering. And a heartfelt finale, led by Donna Banya, where members of the audience identifying as white are asked to go on stage, makes what can come next a daunting question. It becomes hard to know what to take away from Fairview – aside from being hugely impressed. The production is undoubtedly superb: Naana Agyei-Ampadu, Nicola Hughes and Rhashan Stone give brilliant performances. And Fairview is imminently theatrical; it engages with an audience as only live theatre can. I couldn’t argue with the pessimism Drury highlights, but it results in a cold response to the work. With a suspicion that it is not the desired intention, respect (and a touch of confusion) is the best I can muster.

Until 23 January 2020

www.youngvic.org

Photos by Marc Brenner

2019

"Hunger" at the Arcola Theatre

This adaptation of Knut Hamsun’s 1890 novel has clever moves and clear decisions. As we follow its starving character, a student and writer who struggles as a “loser and misfit” in a big city, the direction from Fay Lomas has smart touches. The staging is inventive, the design by Anna Kezia Williams and Rajiv Pattani well used, while tight choreography creates considerable momentum. Pain is effectively portrayed, and highlighting the mental health problems that arise from malnutrition proves enlightening. A case that this tale of a down-and-out could occur any time and any place is obviously the point. Lomas works to show just that – and it’s a job well done.

There’s no doubt the piece serves as a brilliant showcase for a talented quartet of performers. Archie Backhouse, Katie Eldred and Jessica Tomlinson act as the population of a whole town; they cannot fail to impress as you lose count of the ages and accents depicted. They even manage to make a few named characters vivid, despite the brevity of the roles. With the unnamed lead, Hunger makes an exciting vehicle for Kwami Odoom who brings a great presence to the stage and intelligent responses to his task. It’s a thrill for the audience too – there’s a sense of seeing a big talent for the first time and the hope we’ll be able to boast about it one day!

Kwami Odoom in Hunger at the Arcola Theatre photographed by Alex Brenner
Kwami Odoom

Much of the production’s clarity comes from Amanda Lomas’s adaptation. For a plotless novel that explores psychology through a first-person narrative, her decisions seem sensible, if conservative. Unlike Hamsun, Lomas provides a hero for us to focus on – the play’s lead is far more sympathetic than in the book. The most distressing and controversial scenes are passed over: the character chews on orange peel rather than a bone and his relations with women are made less problematic. We’re given more background, a sense of his age and a more carefully chartered descent into poverty that work well dramatically and serve a broadly political purpose.

Lomas has created a more even experience than that of reading the book. She has an eye on an audience rather than an existential axe to grind. Hamsun was obsessed with pride and religion – both have a small part here as they don’t fit with the programme. And it has to be admitted that there’s a disappointing lack of intensity for a novel famed for just that quality. The character’s ego and his rants against God end up a little lost. Thankfully, it’s possible to argue that the production’s aims are served by toning both down. We’re presented with a story about poverty made universal and powerful by theatre makers with a strong sense of purpose.

Until 21 December 2019

www.arcolatheatre.com

Photos by Alex Brenner

2019

"Death of a Salesman" at the Piccadilly Theatre

Successful revivals – and this is one of the best – tend to present a classic text with reverence or remodel it for the current day. Trying to do both – respecting and reinventing – usually pleases nobody. But just such a combination has been achieved by co-directors Marianne Elliott and Miranda Cromwell with Arthur Miller’s classic story of Willy Loman’s demise. It’s like no production of the show before, but presents Miller’s concerns for the working man with utmost conviction. The result is marvellous. 

Casting the Loman family as African American is the most obvious difference. The consequences are profound, rippling through the show, continually adding layers to Miller’s text. Take Willy’s subservience to his much younger boss – more painful than ever. Highlighting the play’s concern with Willy’s breakdown is novel, too: since Miller’s day appreciation of mental health, including dementia, and how distressing it can be for victims, has grown. Flashback scenes, with bold lighting design from Aideen Malone, add a distressing air that increases sympathy for Willy. The production takes modern sensibilities into account and fills the play with new questions and tensions.

Meanwhile Miller’s political concerns are amplified. Rather than connect Willy to buzzwords (“the squeezed middle” or the “precariat”), ideas about the dignity of work, perhaps old fashioned, are explored as the writer intended. Likewise, the aspirations that obsess Willie, maybe even drive him mad, are given space. A period atmosphere is aided by Femi Temowo’s compositions and musical direction – I don’t think Miller’s ever been this cool. The brilliant design, by Anna Fleischle, makes the family home, just about to be purchased, a frame: a perfect reflection of how transparent these lives become to us.

Matthew Seadon-Young and Wendell Pierce in 'Death of a Salesman'
Matthew Seadon-Young and Wendell Pierce

As if all this weren’t enough, this production also boasts some of the most fantastic performances you could witness. The whole cast is impeccable, even the smaller roles who add to the music in the show. Victoria Hamilton-Barrit and Matthew Seadon-Young excel, despite their characters coming close to being devices. The Loman brothers are vividly depicted by Ṣọpẹ́ Dìrísù and Natey Jones with performances that complement each other – as they should. The tension for one bubbles under while the other’s anger proves explosive.

Making a West End debut that will surely be remembered for a long time, Wendell Pierce takes the lead role with astonishing skill. Willy is not an appealing character, rather a tin-pot tyrant who’s easy to condemn. But Pierce makes him a man you can warm to – and a surprisingly diffident person that you feel for. Adding a purity of intention, focusing on his sons, he becomes a noble character whose end is truly tragic. 

As his wife Linda, Sharon D Clarke recognises the role as the lynchpin of the play. Often quite literally centre stage, Clarke has the presence to make the role major. For Linda is also the play’s moral compass and Clarke gives a performance of dignified intensity that becomes heart-breaking. Finally, the chemistry between the two leads is something really special – adding an urgency to the drama and, again, an emotional impact that makes this the most moving Miller I’ve ever seen.

Until 4 January 2020

www.atgtickets.com

Photos by Brinkhoff & Mogenburg