Category Archives: 2019

2019

“Rutherford and Son” at the National Theatre

While Githa Sowerby’s 1912 play has long been acknowledged as an important text, Polly Findlay’s new production reveals the work to be a true masterpiece. No doubt old-fashioned, being driven by a strong plot featuring excellent characters and dripping with detail, the piece contains bigger concerns that feel remarkably contemporary. The story of a tyrannical patriarch who lives for his factory at the expense of his family, the obsession with legacy and reputation may be removed from our times, but Rutherford’s business model is easily recognisable.

At the centre of the play is Rutherford himself – a mammoth role that Roger Allam takes in his stride. Allam is so good he can allow humour into the part, which is important as the sexism, snobbery and bullying are hard to swallow. And, for all the awful things Rutherford says and does, Allam manages to inject a compelling charm. It’s easy to imagine his workforce and family being devoted to him. Rutherford’s character is revealed slowly – notably he is talked about a great deal before we meet him, which gives us a complex person rather than a caricature. Given his cultivated pretence of reasonableness, you may find yourself agreeing with him more than you’d like, even when he’s at his most outrageous.

Justine Mitchell

Allum is amazing, but it’s Findlay’s triumph that, unlike Rutherford, he isn’t totally in charge. A superb supporting cast moulds the focus of the play from scene to scene. Harry Hepple and Sam Troughton play the hapless sons, a mix of timid piety and privileged bluster that’s increasingly unattractive. There’s a brilliant performance from Justine Mitchell as the daughter, Janet, who provides evidence of the cruelty brought to all the siblings’ upbringings. The outcome of her story, containing a shock and a mystery, is deeply moving. It’s in his daughter-in-law, Anjana Vasan’s Ann, quiet for so much of the play, that Rutherford meets his match, with a finale that makes ruthless bargaining a riveting drama.

Rutherford and Son could so easily be dismissed as all about repression – hence less relevant to our times. But there’s actually plenty of confrontation in the play and presenting both shows Sowerby’s genius. The characters aren’t pushovers – they wouldn’t convince if they were. Rather, quiet moments, in particular the depressing resignation the women often display, create a distinct rhythm for the piece that builds in power. Although bleak, there’s a sense of satisfaction that Rutherford is justly rewarded. Given that he’s a glass manufacturer, a profession Lizzie Clachan’s gorgeous set emphasises, the danger of throwing stones should be clear. Or maybe that’s wish fulfilment on my part? The finale has a Rutherford heir who isn’t quite the son anyone presumed. Questioning what might come next is Sowerby’s aim, highlighting motherhood makes this a play focuses on the future far more than for the past.

Until 3 August 2019

www.nationaltheatre.org.uk  

Photos by Johan Persson

2019

“Sweat” at the Gielgud Theatre

After rave reviews and a sell-out run at the Donmar Warehouse, the transfer of Lynn Nottage’s play is especially welcome. A political play about blue-collar America and trade unionism isn’t your average West End fare. Brilliant performances and excellent direction count for many stars awarded by the critics. But, above all, it’s the marvellous work from an exceptional writer that makes this one of the best plays I’ve seen in an age. Oh, and it won a Pulitzer Prize.

At the heart of Sweat’s success are a series of characters that we come to know so intimately. As a trio of work friends whose jobs in a steel factory and threatened and then lost, Jessie, Cynthia and Tracey make for wonderful studies that Leanne Best, Clare Perkins and Martha Plimpton all excel in. Their history established with speed, when Cynthia moves from shop floor to office door we get a moving moral dilemma brimming with conflict.

The action takes place in the women’s local bar, and the manager’s bar-room philosophy and news commentary, skilfully delivered by Stuart McQuarrie, add to the sense of a whole community, maybe the whole US. The complex picture is created with such a natural touch it seems effortless on Nottage’s part – and appreciated by director Lynette Linton – but what technique!

Let’s not be naïve. Focus on the women in the factory and ethnic minorities working in the bar could feel tokenistic. Here, it’s what it is – real life. And the characters are all the more remarkable when we come to consider how functional each role is. Each represents a response to or facet of economic meltdown. NAFTA, the rise of nationalism and anti-immigration rhetoric, even self-medication and the opioid epidemic are all issues raised. And, handled with such humanity, Nottage makes them personal.

If Sweat still sounds dry, exceptional plotting makes the delivery anything but. There’s a thrilling mystery here surrounding two of the women’s sons, Jason and Chris, and a crime that occurs. Beginning with their release from prison we’re left guessing what happened, even who the victim was. With yet more tremendous performances, from Patrick Gibson and Osy Ikhile, we see a once close friendship and the disturbed characters both men have become. During the second act, Linton ratchets up the tension: who does what to whom is unexpected, the cruelty of events ripping a community further apart.

When racism rears its head, it is especially poignant as we see a friendship destroyed. Yet understanding how violence has escalated shows the play has important insights. As well as examining the systemic in society, Nottage takes into account an element of chance. Think of the characters, to various degrees, as unlucky and it’s sure to change any moral judgements you might make. Sweat ends as a challenging piece, preventing us from condemning any of its protagonists too quickly. It creates an uneasy sense of ‘there but for the grace of God’ time after time in a way only the very best theatre can.

Until 20 July 2019

www.sweattheplay.com

2019

“Bare: A Pop Opera” at the Vaults

It’s tough to knock this well-intentioned musical from Damon Intrabartolo and Jon Hartmere. Dating from the year 2000, it’s a coming-of-age story with real catastrophe at its heart and this new production emphasises the tragedy of youth suicides because of homophobia. As promised by the title, there’s plenty of raw emotion. The target audience is clear – it’s a teen drama with trigger warnings that will surely become a much-loved favourite for many.

Set in a Catholic boarding school, where religion makes a powerful and well-explored theme, the story revolves around a closeted gay couple, students Jason and Peter. Taking the roles, Darragh Cowley and Daniel Mack Shand deliver sincere performances, while director Julie Atherton speeds the action along nicely. But the plot is as predictable as a Christmas Day sermon. Take the end-of-year theatrical production the school puts on – with its very heavy parallels to the main story – well, I don’t need to tell you which Shakespeare play they pick do I?

Darragh Cowley and Daniel Mack Shand

The Romeo and Romeo subtext has powerful moments and a distressing finale, as well as providing the score’s most interesting moments. But the characters we get to know are unfortunately flat and stereotyped: Peter, smart and sensitive, Jason, the school hero and heartthrob who wants to keep their love a secret. Cowley and Mack Shand work marvels with little but it is still too clichéd a combination.

Georgie Lovatt and Lizzie Emery

The women in the piece fare even worse. Georgie Lovatt takes her chance to stand out but her introductory number, ‘Plain Jane Fat Ass’, is uncomfortable. Her bête noire Ivy has a better song that Lizzie Emery shines with, but only after she’s been disgracefully used by Jason. Both women are characterised by their bodies – naughty – in a depressingly predictable manner.

Of course, we feel for these characters – but only because of their age and that isn’t quite enough. The only youngster who intrigues is the spurned Matt, who Tom Hier does well with. He may have a more hum-drum dilemma but, with less sentimentality, ends up surprisingly effective.

Jo Napthine

Thankfully, the more mature roles are better. Jo Napthine is woefully underused as Peter’s mother, but her main number is delivered superbly. As for Stacy Francis – she is the real deal. Playing the Virgin Mary in a dream sequence proves a real highlight; the show needs more lifts like this – the only other flight of fancy, the Act Two opener is also good. And, as the school’s drama teacher, Sister Chantelle, Francis can’t help but steal every scene. And prove yet again that good musicals really must include a nun.

Stacy Francis

There are quibbles with the production itself, which fans will happily ignore. Atherton has clearly done fine work in the rehearsal room – all the angsty one-on-ones are well executed. But the show comes unstuck in the venue. The auditorium (for Vault Festival regulars, usually the big bar) is poorly laid out. The choreography suffers, too. Stuart Rogers work is impressive but the sight lines here are very awkward and the stage noisy. There’s generally too much racket from moving around props, which proves distracting.

Nonetheless, success for the show would be welcome. The seriousness may be too earnest at times but the aspirations are impressive. If Intrabartolo’s score lacks stand-out numbers, the music works well dramatically and some of the duets are nice. Barman’s lyrics are dense and prove too much a bit too often – but they give voice to all manner of teenage concerns, from the trivial to the tragic. Shows like this are perennial, but Bare’s passion answers an important need with credibility.

Until 4 August 2019

www.thevaults.london/bare

Photos by Tom Grace

2019

“Hamlet” at St Pauls Church, Covent Garden

Iris Theatre has become a welcome fixture in Covent Garden over the summer months. Even after a decade, impressively, the company is far from resting on its laurels. Director Daniel Winder is always full of ideas, but this might be his most adventurous production so far. As is the nature of experiments, not everything here works. Yet failings come from the contrast in scale between Shakespeare’s epic and the production itself. Any lack is not a question of carelessness, rather, over-ambition and the production is often fascinating.

Taking the mammoth title role is Jenet Le Lacheur, a performer who identifies as transgender. That the production follows Le Lacheur’s lead makes it feel intensely personal. Hamlet is addressed as son and also “my lady”, adding immeasurably to the character’s complexity. Of course, Shakespeare is full of gender politics but this production becomes extraordinarily layered. To note just one instance, Hamlet’s relationship with Horatio (a fine performance from Harold Addo) becomes especially moving. Le Lacheur’s delivery is admirably direct: the lines feel fresh and easy to understand, making Hamlet appealing and often funny. The performance is one to be proud of and easy to recommend.

Let’s not forget how much goes on in Hamlet. It’s to Wilder’s credit that the action is easy to follow. But the themes that he wants to explore overwhelm his production. The idea of a dystopian future is aimed at but doesn’t hit home – although credit to Madeline Berry’s costume designs, which are intelligently evocative. The idea of a dictatorship never becomes oppressive enough. There’s a lot of messing around with mobile phones and an overreliance on video work. In themselves the films are fine (that Hamlet knows he is observed during his Act III Scene i encounter with Ophelia is a very nice touch) but the outdoor screens are too small or badly positioned. Altering the rotten state in question to England adds little. The military background to events pales and the invading Fortinbras is quite lost. The play’s religious ambiguities seem little explored – ironic given the setting of a church. A definitive production of Hamlet is impossible, but there are too many loose ends here given all the ideas set out.

Clare Bloomer and Jenet Le Lacheur

There’s a similar problem with the tiny cast. That each have so many roles to perform is hugely impressive. Jenny Horsthuis and Joe Parker seem seldom off stage and, if Clare Bloomer and Vinta Morgan stand out, it’s because they have two great moments in their main parts as Claudius and Gertrude. Paula James also benefits from a little more focus with her deftly handled Polonius. To top it all, nearly everyone has a go at the ghost (at least, I think everyone does), showing some top-notch movement skills and wearing a mask that could give you nightmares: praise again for Berry. That the ghost doesn’t speak is one of many smart moves from Wilder, but all the chopping and changing is distracting; the mechanics of the show can’t help but be laid bare as you start wondering how certain scenes are going to be handled given that there are so few people here.

Joe Parker as one of The Tragedians

The issue comes to the fore with the travelling actors and the play within the play that they perform. Presented as twerking tragedians, Club Kids with a touch of Leigh Bowery (a third mention here for Berry), is another interesting idea. The cast really go for the avant-garde edge, vogueing away with an unsettling air. But there are just too few of them to make the party atmosphere aimed at work. As with so much here, it’s an excellent effort – and well worth checking out. It just seems that six is too small a cast for Hamlet, especially for a show with so many ideas and so much intelligence.

Until 27 July 2019

www.iristheatre.com

2019

“Riot Act” at the Arcola Theatre

What are you doing this Sunday? If possible, make a date to celebrate the 50th anniversary of the Stonewall Riots with some superb theatre. Alexis Gregory’s hour-long verbatim show has been racking up five-star reviews since it premiered last year. It’s easy to see why: it’s full of fascinating, impeccably told stories with an inspiring sense of urgency.

Through interviews with a trio of men, Gregory garners a surprisingly detailed insight into gay life in America and the UK over three decades. From the night of the Stonewall Riots, to the life of an avant-garde drag queen, to an activist against HIV/AIDS, this is a qualitative approach that counts as oral history as much as theatrical entertainment. You may learn a lot – or take comfort in having a story similar to your own heard. Either way, there is a fitting sense of pride taken in what these men have overcome and achieved.

It isn’t that unusual to see gay history on the London stage, certainly not the fringe. But Gregory’s skill, ably backed by Rikki Beadle-Blair’s direction, gets us close to the real deal here. The duo’s respect for the men is contagious and illustrated in the confident candour on offer. Each man’s own words are given their due, focused by the experience of collaborating on the project and honed into a text by Gregory.

There’s a lot of wisdom here, as well as a good few laughs along the way. But it’s also a salutary reminder of a generation lost because of the AIDS crisis that makes preserving the lessons from survivors all the more important. While the overall tone to Riot Act is suitably celebratory – noting progress – there’s agitation, too. How fragile those fought-for rights really are is highlighted. The show acts as a warning and a blueprint for action as much as a walk down memory lane.

Until 30 June 2019

www.arcolatheatre.com

2019

“Three Sisters” at the Vaudeville Theatre

The world-renowned Maly Drama Theatre of St Petersburg and its director Lev Dodin have a phenomenal reputation. The company’s visits to London are anticipated events for theatre aficionados and, with only ten performances this time around, you should hurry to get a ticket. Maly’s work is an example of high expectations fulfilled, and this production of Chekhov’s classic does not disappoint.

Dodin and his talented cast of performers (embedded in the company in a fashion that’s rare in the UK nowadays), create the perfect mix of melancholy and humour. Initially it is the comedy that stands out – a combination of looks that are laugh-out-loud funny and a subtle appreciation of the play’s more ridiculous moments. It feels surprisingly light at times, confident and relaxed, despite the surtitles ruining some of the jokes.

This Three Sisters is very much Irina’s play and not just because of the masterful performance from Ekaterina Tarasova, who takes the role. Irina is full of energy and promise, Tarasova appropriately captivating and funny. The younger sibling has all the men from the local regiment courting her and is amusingly contemptuous. Her despair at rural life is allowed to grow convincingly – it starts off almost sweet, so that it becomes a real tragedy rather than just a trope.

This play of unfulfilled dreams and desires has plenty of painful moments. Masha’s adultery with the philosophising Vershinin is made into a passionate affair, with Ksenia Rappoport revealing a palpable mania within the character that makes her performance exciting. As for the eldest of the trio, Olga’s career as a school teacher develops into a case of genuine despair (often a tough ask) with a brilliant performance from Irina Tychinina. Her metamorphosis into a formidable figure by the finale – where she seems frozen, rigid with disappointment – is truly commanding.

That the characters change so much during the play is one of Dodin’s key insights, illustrated by the skilled performances he has nurtured (special note has to be made of Stanislav Nikolskiy’s Soleni, whose transformation by the final scene is stunning). The action takes place over four years, after all, and highlighting this gives the piece great momentum. In this potentially static play (there’s an awful lot of looking out of windows), Dodin carefully adds a sense of action. Even Alexander Borovsky’s set – an outline of the Prozorov home – moves, advancing towards us as tension mounts. Action creeps into the audience with steps leading into the stalls.

Dodin’s appreciation of Chekhov’s rhythm is clear, the balance he injects precise and controlled without feeling forced. There’s no doubt that there is a master in our midst. The production is a fantastic chance to see a superb director at work.

Until 29 June 2019

www.nimaxtheatre.com

Photo (c) MDT

2019

“The Flies” at the Bunker Theatre

Exchange Theatre brings famous foreign works, seldom seen in the UK, to London and great credit to it for this. Alternating weekly between performances in English and French, the company remit feels increasingly important in our potentially insular times. And this chance to see Jean-Paul Sartre’s 1943 play is far too rare. Maybe it’s the high stakes – or great expectations – that make the production a disappointment. Regrettably, it cannot be recommended.

Sartre’s take on the story of Electra has the people of Argos enthralled by a cult of communal repentance, inspired by Aegisthus and Clytemnestra’s tortured guilt over the murder of Agamemnon. Examining how religion and fear control people should be a theatrical godsend. But the multi-disciplinary approach of director David Furlong ends up messy – a gnomic nightmare of techniques with a laboured pace that is purgatorial.

The cast suffers from characterisations that seldom work and ideas about presenting myth that never take off. Raul Fernandes proves one exception, as a rather natty Jupiter, who is allowed ambiguity. But attempts at modernising the story look cheap. While there’s good work from Soraya Spiers, attempts at physicality, from hand gestures to running around the stage, are generally poor. The “half human creatures”, by turn the populace and the Furies, come close to being embarrassing in their gowns and pointy hats, then fishnet tights and high heels. There are simply too many predictable attempts to be odd for the sake of it. Yet another problem (oh dear) is the live soundtrack. Not that the music is bad or poorly performed – by a group called A Riot In Heaven – but it proves distracting and the cast have to fight with it. Audibility is an issue too many times.

There’s a little more joy with the central roles of Electra and Orestes, played by Meena Rayann and Samy Elkhatib. Their youthful appeal suits both play and production. Injecting energy into some admittedly stilted lines proves a sometimes painful struggle. Elkhatib even has to use the word swashbuckling and ends up wooden too often, while Rayann appears too eager, too mad too quickly. Lessons could be learned from Juliet Dante who, fittingly, takes the part of The Tutor with calm. It’s not just appropriate to the role but makes the performance feel less forced. Rayaan and Elkhatib get better as the show goes on, and Electra’s bad faith and Orestes’ turn as a rock star are at least interesting.

To see Sartre mapped on to a Greek story is fascinating. It illuminates his philosophy as well as the classical tradition and calls into question cultural heritage. Existentialism may not be fashionable right now, but these ideas changed lives, and Sartre’s radical freedom can still shock and excite. It’s not that Exchange Theatre prevents his work from being clear – that would be unforgivable. But the production does nothing to serve him. Bad ideas circle the show like flies around… well, you know the saying.

Until 6 July 2019

www.bunkertheatre.com

2019

“Afterglow” at the Southwark Playhouse

A huge success off-Broadway, S Asher Gelman’s play has the open marriage of Alex and Josh tested by a younger man called Darius. The play has the qualifications for a strong fringe show, with close character studies and an invitation to discussion in the bar afterwards. It clearly struck a chord in New York with a record-breaking run and it will be interesting to see if it excites London. For – with best wishes extended to a quality production – the play plods and its characters annoy. Despite all its transparent efforts to be sexy, bold and brave – might we Brits like our sex a bit less serious?

Afterglow is earnest. Attempts at jokes are made but are poor and contrived. Director Tom O’Brien tries a light touch at times, and the show certainly looks stylish, but goodness how important this threesome-that-goes-wrong thinks it is. The talented actors – Jesse Fox, Sean Hart and Danny Mahoney – each make the most of their roles, fighting hard to inject humour and pathos, but what roles to tackle. Each man’s solipsism reaches ridiculous levels: Alex wants space and Josh needs attention. Clearly a little self-knowledge is a dangerous thing, as both think admitting their faults excuses them. Meanwhile, Darius wants to be good, primarily to live up to the etymology of his name. Ultimately, they all wallow in self-pity over a drama of their own making.

Danny Mahoney, Jesse Fox and Sean Hart

Gelman could surely be more generous with his creations. It’s their explicit approach to feelings, rather than the play’s considerable amount of nudity, that is of note. Explaining every emotion – without subtlety or ambiguity – becomes tiring. And there’s only ever facile lip service to how someone else feels. The dialogue sounds like a bad therapy session. Maybe it’s accurate, or possibly satirical, but it makes caring about this self-obsessed crew next to impossible.

That the play wants to look at a social trend is fair enough and, if media coverage is anything to go, by the topic seems to qualify. But, alongside some predictable waffle about the “illusion of choice” facing gay men nowadays, we all know this story will end in tears. There’s an interesting attempt to focus the play, many themes found in gay plays are absent, but the result is little sense of a world outside the bedroom. Darius’ finances make an incongruous exception that could have been explored more. Quite simply, too little happens here. Alex’s observation that nobody has written a fairy tale for polyamory isn’t news (if Gelman had tried just that, perhaps he might have challenged us more). And, like many a story that sounds risqué, Afterglow is ultimately conservative. Arguably, that’s the biggest turn off.

Until 20 July 2019

www.southwarkplayhouse.co.uk

Photos by Darren Bell

2019

“Garry” at the White Bear Theatre

Graham Watts’ quality production of this neglected play by Sophie Treadwell is a tough one to write about. That this world premiere is 65 years late indicates the unjust difficulties its author faced. It’s important to see more work by this great woman writer. And to see the topics of homosexuality, sexual violence and prostitution dealt with in such an early work is fascinating. But while it’s an admirable labour of love for Watts as director and producer, the play has missed its moment.

The titular lead, played with gusto by Thomas Martin, is so tormented by his homosexuality that he kills a man who picks him up in a hotel room. In a nice twist, the focus is really his sham marriage with the naïve Wilma who, having failed in her quest to ‘save’ Garry, still wants to stand by him. It’s Wilma’s play and the part makes a true starring role for Phebe Alys, who is terrific throughout. But while the piece doesn’t lack dramatic potential, the psychology offered is basic and setting out its scenario is so laboured that the play shows its age.

So, while the subject matter is bold, the show lacks tension. There’s no flaw on the part of Watts and the cast. It’s just that everything is spelled out too clearly and is predictable anyway. Garry’s status as a “punk” feels quaint – it’s only when he starts explaining his “flashes of hate” that he becomes scary. Wilma is too much the innocent abroad, although Alys is superb at reflecting how her husband being “afraid inside” becomes contagious. But both characters contain so little self-awareness that they fail to convince. The supporting characters (again, nicely played by Claire Bowman and Matthew Wellard) inject some questioning cynicism but only act as foils and are similarly flat and repetitive.

Treadwell’s skills are clear and considerable: the play’s structure is precise and there’s an impressive amount of action squeezed into one room. But, in pushing its 1950s audience, too much has to be explained and we end up with no surprises. As much as some bigots might like it, we no longer need to spell out the very idea of homosexuals existing. What’s going on with Garry is all too obvious at every step and much of the play’s shocks and twists are clear too early. The piece might be important and interesting history, but it isn’t one for today.

Until 22 June 2019

www.whitebeartheatre.co.uk

Photo by Ali Wright

2019

“Rosmersholm” at the Duke of York Theatre

Theatre folk love to make revivals of plays relevant to current times. Now and then, the connections made seem forced, but this new adaptation by Duncan Macmillan of Ibsen’s play from 1886 resonates with the present in a way that frequently astounds. Set around an election, with a country polarised and inequality increasing, nationalism and fake news are everywhere. Meanwhile, the play’s central figure of Rosmer recognises that his privilege comes with a “moral debt” – as they say on Twitter, he is ‘woke’. A conscience examined in the finest detail and a brilliant performance by Tom Burke contribute to a superb production that fizzes with topicality.

Rosmersholm is no dry political disquisition. Giles Terera’s stage presence – as the establishment figure of Andreas Kroll – makes sure that the debate is entertaining. Rosmer’s brother-in-law and old friend, Kroll views radicalism as a threat to not just the country but the soul. And there’s more – ghosts for a start – which director Ian Rickson allows to be symbolic as well as pretty creepy. The characters and the damaged house of Rosmer, with its gorgeous set from Rae Smith, are haunted in many ways, with gradual revelations about the family’s history that make this quite the thriller. It’s all balanced expertly by Rickson and, if the evening is overpowering at times, it’s always exciting.

Tom Burke and Giles Terera

Above all, Rosmersholm is a romance – a particularly intense and tragic one. Marking out Rosmer as a “fallen man” involved with an “independent woman” could remind us too forcefully that this is a period piece. But not a jot. While Burke brings out the complexities of his role as a former pastor who has lost his faith and whose family name becomes a political football, his love interest, Rebecca West, is made the star of the show. This is a tremendous vehicle for Hayley Atwell, who gives a performance full of fantastic detail. West even seems as if she might provide a happy ending. You don’t need to have seen too much Ibsen to be suspicious of that, but Atwell and Rickson make subsequent revelations edge-of-the-seat stuff.

This is a relationship based on talking politics (that’s how our couple fell in love). The chemistry is fantastic, but the ideals discussed are also exciting and challenging. West proves an extreme figure who allows no compromise and there’s an immaturity in both her and Rosmer – take your pick blaming stunted upbringings or a narrow society – that leads to catastrophe. Rosmersholm becomes a frightening place – the talk is of sickness and sacrifice, death or change. No middle ground is allowed. It’s surely just the position, with all its dangers, that we face right now.

Until 20 July 2019

www.rosmersholmplay.com

Photos by Johan Persson