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“Cat on a Hot Tin Roof” at the Almeida Theatre

Director Rebecca Frecknall is an expert in staging Tennessee Williams’ plays. While her acclaimed production of A Streetcar Named Desire, which also started in this Islington venue, is due back in the West End in February, this latest revival deserves similar success. Frecknall appreciates the tenor of each piece, marking this one by its force. There is a violence to the language, more tense than poetic, that is undoubtedly powerful.

There’s star casting… if that’s your thing. Kingsley Ben-Adir and Daisy Edgar-Jones take the roles of Brick and Maggie, whose failed marriage we watch. Ben-Adir is an excellent stage drunk (essential here) and gives a cleverly passive performance as the former sports star drinking himself into oblivion. Edgar-Jones makes her character bravely unsympathetic, taking care that we don’t feel sorry for Maggie. There’s a little too much shouting, especially considering Maggie’s paranoia about being overheard, and Edgar-Jones’ physicality isn’t quite convincing (might she be a little young for the role?), but she is suitably formidable and an engaging stage presence.

Maggie and Brick’s dilemma is a good deal simpler than some of the drama in Williams’ classics. The arguments are fraught and drag a little. The wider family dynamics, including the drama surrounding Brick’s father, are interesting but also repetitious. It is Lennie James’ superb performance as ‘Big Daddy’ that elevates the long act between father and son, while the complexity Clare Burt adds to her role as ‘Big Momma’ lights up her scenes. With both of these experienced performers, some of Williams’ humour is allowed through – tricky but welcome.

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Seb Carrington and Lennie James

Frecknall focuses on Brick, who is barely off stage. His trauma around the death of his best friend Skipper provides the play’s emotional content and leads to a lot of talk about truth and lies. Ben-Adir gets credit for angst and is aided by an accompanying pianist with a suitably discordant score from Angus MacRae. Seb Carrington takes this additional, non-speaking part and, as the action progresses it becomes clear that he is a ghostly Skipper. Carrington is excellent, strangely ethereal and an unforgettable presence.

Probably like most of the audience, the production is in no doubt that Brick and Skipper’s relationship was romantic. Williams’ notes in the text itself are more elastic, and it might surprise that a 2023 production doesn’t lean into that ambiguity. But the result is certainly anguished. This is a tortured affair – and great drama. Coming soon to the Almeida is a Eugene O’Neill play, it will be exciting to see what Frecknall makes of another American great.  

Until 1 February 2025

www.alemida.co.uk

Photos by Marc Brenner

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“The Tempest” at the Theatre Royal Drury Lane

Director Jamie Lloyd delivers every time. The big draw for his new production of Shakespeare’s late play is the West End debut of Sigourney Weaver as Prospero and, since she never leaves the stage, we get a lot of her. You came for a star? You get a star…

Weaver’s is not the clearest delivery I’ve heard, but it is good. She is a focused presence, often stationary, drawing in energy as her character’s magic controls what’s going on. We never doubt this Prospero’s power – which diminishes tension a little – but Weaver is truly magnetic.

No doubt it’s a thrill to see such famous faces on stage (Lloyd’s career proves as much). But the production has more to offer. There’s a reason actors of Weaver’s status want to work with him: the production is bold, controlled, and has big ideas.

Let’s take the bombastic first; Soutra Gilmour’s set is stunning. Shakespeare hasn’t been staged at the Theatre Royal Drury Lane in a long time and the space, so perfect for big musicals, is huge. Maybe with a nod to Weaver’s movies (although it is described as “barren”) the isle’s setting looks like a moonscape. Gilmour works marvels with huge curtains of gauze. For added drama there’s Jon Clark’s ambitious lighting design including some tricky total blackouts.

The island is, famously, “full of noises”. Sound designers Ben and Max Ringham must have been rubbing their hands at the job. Their work is loud. Too often the amplification is to the detriment of the poetry, but the effects are good and help with the plot. The Ringham’s are also co-composers to a score from Michael ‘Mikey J’ Asante, available to buy soon I’d bet.

For all the epic feel, the production is emphatically not cinematic. Lloyd knows theatre shouldn’t compete with film – it has something else to offer (that’s his point when he uses live recordings). There are good old fashioned theatrical techniques here, including a lot of aerial work for… Ariel!

To further balance the grand touches, this is also a cerebral version of The Tempest. Weaver reflects the thought process behind the grief, revenge, and forgiveness that is going on. And Lloyd points out that much of this is happening in people’s heads. It is the mental anguish Prospero’s illusions creates that are continually emphasised (notably, the joyous wedding masque is downplayed). There’s a focus on choreography, with characters coming forward into a spotlight or circling one another in their confusion. It all looks great. And, often it makes the play easy to follow. But there is a sense that characters are puppets for Prospero… or maybe for Lloyd.

Much of the cast suffer from the stylised staging. The play’s villains merge into one, despite the efforts of Tim Steed and Oliver Ryan. Young lovers (Mara Huf and James Phoon) fade into the background. Like romance, there’s little room for humour so Jason Barnett’s Stephano and Mathew Horne’s Trinculo (always difficult roles) are also lost. Jude Akuwudike and Selina Cadell, as Alonso and Gonzalo, fare better and make their roles unusually interesting.

Mason Alexander Parks in The Tempest
Mason Alexander Park

It’s the characters that are other-worldly that excel. An unrecognizable Forbes Masson takes the part of Caliban; the physicality of his performance is commendable. Mason Alexander Park’s Ariel is particularly impressive, benefitting from the music in the show and its special effects. Affection for Prospero is balanced well with the desire for freedom, giving the character a melancholy touch. And there’s an element of theatricality to this Ariel that is fascinating; they seem to enjoy tricks played and fear induced. Park is the only challenge to Weaver’s dominance and does so well that they may be the real star of the show.

Until 1 February 2025

www.thejamielloydcompany.com

Photos by Marc Brenner

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“The Little Foxes” at the Young Vic

Family dramas don’t come sharper than this. Lillian Hellman’s classic about the business affairs of the Hubbard siblings brims with tension in Lyndsey Turner’s production. A stunning cast does justice to quality writing, making this a real cracker of a show.

Leading the action is the ever-excellent Anne-Marie Duff, who plays the formidable Regina. There’s subtlety as well as high emotion in Duff’s portrayal of this desperate woman, who is ruthless, but perhaps not quite as competent as she might believe. While it’s hard to take your eyes of Regina, Duff and Turner are too good to make her the sole focus.

The men who come up against Regina’s plotting are excellent. Her two brothers – played by Mark Bonnar and Steffan Rhodri – are a great exercise in compare and contrast, showing two chilling sides of the business world. Does Benjamin’s cool pragmatism or Oscar’s stubbornness and stupidity scare you more? And there are two roles for John Light to excel in. Very neat casting has him double as a potential business partner and then transform into Regina’s dying husband. In both cases, it’s his money everyone is after, but Light gives the two characters startling depth.

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John Light

Turner moves the play away from its original turn-of-the-century setting. Instead of 1900, Lizzie Clachan’s design is late 1960s, with some of the costumes sneaking into the 1970s. Tingying Dong’s sound design is very ‘now’, with some great choral arrangements from composer Phillippe Cato. There are, subsequently, incongruous mentions of horse-drawn carriages along with some very dated attitudes. And it makes the status of the African American servants (further excellent performances from Andrea Davy and Freddie MacBruce) something of a puzzle. Presumably the intention is to bring the audience up short, to move us away from comfy period piece and illustrate how enduring these concerns about big business are.

With the fictional family described as “locusts” more than once, it’s easy to see a critique of capitalism in Hellman’s work. There are nods to how greed impacts a whole community. Arguably, though, there is a cautious conservatism driving this – the motivation is more about taking care than any radical critique. 

It is the impact on the family that is at the heart of The Little Foxes. Throughout the play, Regina’s sister-in-law acts as a foil, being from a wealthy old family, now imprisoned in a loveless marriage. It’s a tricky role that Anna Madeley excels in, creating a sympathetic character and revealing alcoholism with super skill. As the play progresses, Regina’s young daughter comes to the fore. How will what she has seen shape her? So final praise goes to Eleanor Worthington-Cox, who takes this role so capably, moving centre stage, showing her character’s development and providing the play’s thrilling final moments.

Until 8 February 2025

www.youngvic.org

Photos by Johan Persson

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“A Midsummer Night’s Dream” at the Barbican Theatre

Director Eleanor Rhode’s production of Shakespeare’s comedy won rave reviews earlier this year at Stratford-upon-Avon. The show certainly looks great. Designer Lucy Osborne populates a bare stage with enormous bead curtains and huge paper lanterns that form a canvas for Will Duke’s excellent video design and Matt Daw’s accomplished lighting. But, regrettably, while it’s a treat for the eyes, the rest of the play offers little pleasure. I’m confused about all those starry reviews.

Rhode does have great new ideas. There are moments of tension between warring couples (Oberon and Titania, Demetrius and Helena) that show the depth of their relationships. Having Titania’s attendants appear as lights is nice and, like several illusions masterminded by John Bulleid, well executed. There’s also an excellent end to Act 3, Scene 2 when Puck leads the lovers “up and down”. Instead of seeing actors pretending not to notice one another, they appear fleetingly one by one, giving the scene extra energy.

These highlights are exceptions, though, within a production that feels flat. Act 1 doesn’t seem to interest Rhode very much. It’s horribly rushed, with nearly every line coming at breakneck speed, so it is difficult to work out what’s going on. The speed causes lots of problems later, especially for the quartet of Athenian lovers (energetically performed by Nicholas Armfield, Ryan Hutton, Boadicea Ricketts and Dawn Sievewright), who are hard to distinguish from one another or care very much about. 

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Oddly, delivery becomes slower as the action speeds up. Here, the comedy suffers and the cast struggles (a few actors are breathless). Only Matthew Baynton’s Bottom seems comfortable working at the pace, giving a confident, if broad, performance that is credible enough. A lot of laughs come from the performers’ gestures rather than their lines, which are predictable and not as well delivered as they should be. We’ve all seen ruder and funnier chinks in walls.

Just as big a problem is how one-dimensionally all the characters are depicted. Might we feel a little sorry for Bottom, or even repulsed by him? Baynton’s version is strictly for laughs. His fellow hempen homespuns fade into the background (although there are nice nods to horror films in their play within the play). Even Adrian Richards makes more of a mark as Philostrate (he’s the Master of the Revels). 

Worst of all are the fairies, who should provide fascination, typified by Katherine Pearce’s Puck. Pearce presents an amiable character (and she has a lovely singing voice), but there’s no mischief and certainly no sense of danger about the role. Of course, there doesn’t have to be. Not every reading of the play needs to take literary theory into account. But losing any thrill or mystery is a mistake. For all the characters, there’s too much nuance lost. This dream is not a nightmare, but it’s forgettable.

Until 18 January 2025

www.barbican.org.uk

Photos by Pamela Raith

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“Bright Places” at the Soho Theatre

Playwright Rae Mainwaring was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis at the age of 23. Her Peggy Ramsay Award-winning autobiographical show tackles her illness with frank humour, touching honesty and a little glitter.

From initial shock to the struggle of life with such a debilitating condition, Mainwaring and her director, Tessa Walker, cover a lot of ground. Mentioning parenthood is particularly rushed – surely that could be a whole other play? But it seems fitting that Bright Places is occasionally overwhelming – there are few aspects of life not impacted by MS.

The show is informative, which is no bad thing. But what impressed me is how theatrical it is. There are three performers – Aimee Berwick, Lauren Foster and Rebecca Holmes – who all play the main character as well as other roles. The trio work well as a team (they are towards to the end of a tour) and have fun with different accents as well as plenty of singing, dancing and poetry. The idea that the show is “small-scale subsidised theatre” is leaned into, with costumes on a rack and minimal props aiding an air of intimacy and energy.

Mainwaring highlights what might be thought of as the performative aspects of being ill. Her character wants to be “the best bloody ill person” ever. There’s plenty of fantasy, theatrics even, about what this might be, including a game show element. All in contrast to reality.

There is humour in Mainwaring’s script and the cast does very well with it. But there is also an effort to avoid suggesting jokes can really help that much. The idea that anyone should smile through pain can be a dangerous one. Which is not to suggest Bright Places is miserable… hope grows in the play. 

A first effort joining a support group is described as being in “a fan club for a band you don’t like”. But, by the end, a community is found, appropriately enough, through a dance group. Embracing the healing power of performance is a fitting end to this smart and inspiring show.

Until 7 December 2024

www.carbontheatre.org.uk

Photo by Graeme Bradiwood

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“The Importance of Being Earnest” at the National Theatre

Max Webster’s hit revival of Oscar Wilde’s masterpiece lives up to its sold-out status. The star-studded cast does not disappoint, Rae Smith’s design is gorgeous and a modern sensibility adds surprise touches that excite.

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Ncuti Gatwa

As introducing Algernon in drag indicates, Webster embraces Wilde’s risqué side. There no point hiding that the practice of ‘Bunburying’- taking on a second identity – is a code to cover escapades. Algernon and his pal Jack camp it up in effete style, literally skipping around the stage. There’s even the suggestion the couple are more than just friends. Taking the roles, Ncuti Gatwa and Hugh Skinner are enormous fun and look as if they are thoroughly enjoying themselves.

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Ronkẹ Adékọluẹ́jọ́ and Eliza Scanlen

So, what happens when it comes to the guys falling in love with women? Or when it comes to the final revelation about their own familial relationship? It’s easy to see a claim here for fluidity (they each have two identities already!). The idea is applied to Gwendolen and Cecily, too, who could end up as lovers rather than sisters, adding new jokes to the fantastic performances from Ronkẹ Adékọluẹ́jọ́ and Eliza Scanlen.

Or you could just focus on Wilde’s silliness. Really, nothing should be taken seriously. The Importance of Being Earnest turns the world upside down (hence the production’s surprising encore). It might be said Webster doesn’t take Wilde as seriously as Dominic Dromgoole, whose enlightening Classic Spring series was a rare treat. But there is a boldness to Webster’s work that’s to his credit. 

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Amanda Lawrence and Richard Cant

There is more to praise. An excellent triumvirate of Sharon D Clarke, Richard Cant and Amanda Lawrence, taking the roles of Lady Bracknell, Canon Chasuble and Miss Prism, are superb. Clarke’s accent is a masterstroke, while the courting curate and his schoolmistress get big laughs as well as being, well, cute! As a final thrill, the physicality in the show, from Gatwa and Skinner in particular, is a genuine surprise. Comedies of manners can be static affairs, Wilde’s lines imposing, but this cast does a great job with physical comedy and stylised movements that makes the production stand out.

Until 25 January 2025

www.nationaltheatre.org.uk

Photos by Marc Brenner

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“All’s Well That Ends Well” at the Sam Wanamaker Playhouse

While Shakespeare’s text mentions life as “a mingled yarn, good and ill together”, it is easy to see why a modern audience might focus on the unhappier parts of the play. The orphaned Helen’s adoration of noble-born Bertram and his behaviour overall are hard to stomach. Director Chelsea Walker’s production takes a forceful approach to the piece that is successfully invigorating.

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Ruby Bentall

Walker’s sympathies are clear – and who’s going to argue with them? Still, it is an achievement to make the women in the play stand out as she has done. There’s a superb starring role for Ruby Bentall as Helen and her performance is great. Even if we can’t fathom why she’s so in love, her determination and scheming fit in a production that feels like a thriller. Bentall is also a strong comedian, getting laughs from some dark humour. The production is notable for making so much of her accomplices in plotting to fool Bertram – Catrin Aaron and Georgia-Mae Myers – who are excellent at showing a moral dilemma while injecting a sense of risk.

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William Robinson and Kit Young

While the virtue of the women was, probably, what characterised them for Shakespeare’s audience, nowadays it is their intelligence. Debates within the play are injected with excitement. The contrast with the men is startling. They seem a little…dull. Or, to be generous, enthralled by their own machismo. Exciting talents Kit Young and William Robinson take the parts of Bertram and his sidekick Paroles. Adding the suggestion the two might be lovers is eye-catching, but it is when Paroles abandons his pretence at being honourable that both characters come into focus. It’s a captivating performance from Robinson as his character acts as a mirror to Bertram’s ‘heroism’ and calls it to account.

Just so we don’t focus on youthful indiscretions in the play (wouldn’t that be a convenient excuse?), Walker is tough on older characters, too. Siobhán Redmond, who is excellent as Bertram’s mother, is petulant. And the sickly king, played by Richard Katz, and Emilio Doorgasingh’s Lafew both show cantankerous abuse of their power. These are the evening’s poorer performances (their characters look a little silly). But Walker makes her points well: less happy ending, more sorry affair. A direct, intelligent approach to the play, executed with few tricks and admirable care, produces great results.

Until 4 January 2025

www.shakespearesglobe.com

Photos by Marc Brenner

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“[title of show]” at the Southwark Playhouse

Billed as a meta-musical – pretending to depict its writers workshopping and staging the show as we watch it – there is plenty of self-appraisal within Jeff Bowen and Hunter Bell’s piece. [title of show] (they are still working out what to call it) states pretty much anything bad you can say about it out loud, and often. I wonder if this makes the piece critic-proof?

It is pointed out that there are lots of obscure Broadway references (one number is based on the titles of flops), so knowledge about the construction of songs and shows really helps to get the jokes. And with self-deprecating satire, Bowen and Bell point out the dangers of all this: the “derivative tricks and the critical undertow” that come with their project. As artists, they want to “ask significant questions” with their songs – there’s a lot about the highs and lows of creativity. But whatever is said comes with the threat of being contrived.

In fact, there’s plenty of skill needed to pull off the concept driving the show. Here’s where the reviewer can address performances and note that the songs are excellent showcase material. Jacob Fowler and Thomas Oxley (I think you can guess their characters’ names) give the roles suitably strong personalities. Abbie Budden and Mary Moore, playing Heidi and Susan, are the “secondary characters” (that’s their description) who have the best numbers. The comedy could be handled less effortfully (it’s good enough) but all four sing wonderfully. And Bowen’s songs aren’t easy. Even if there’s just a piano (props to musical director Tom Chippendale who I’m glad gets to speak), the score is clever and complex.

Most importantly, the cast and director Christopher D Clegg have to make the show feel fresh. Adding the touches of chaos that are demanded from the self-consciously kookie lyrics isn’t easy and the quartet’s energy is fantastic. Nor is it easy giving an improvised air when we all know (don’t we?) the show was a hit back in 2006.

Many have been excited by this long overdue London première. As Bowen and Bell well know, this is a show for the theatre kid and the “Show-mo”. But it is “fun times with friends” with admirable conviction, focusing on the collaborative making of a musical, and the community that comes to watch. [title of show] knows it’s for a clique, but it enjoys that fact… There’s even a song about it.

Until 30 November 2024

www.southwarkplayhouse.co.uk

Photo by Danny Kaan

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“Dr. Strangelove” at the Noël Coward Theatre

Armando Iannucci and Sean Foley have adapted Stanley Kubrick’s 1964 apocalypse movie with an understandable reverence. While their own credentials are impeccable, the reputation of the film weighs heavily on this move to the stage and the result is disappointing. Of course, it’s funny – this is Iannucci and Foley – but it follows the original too closely and works primarily as a vehicle for its star, Steve Coogan.

A comedy great himself, Coogan takes on four roles in the show – that’s one more than Peter Sellers in the film, if you’re counting (and I think people are). Coogan’s performance delivers. It is impressive… and it is very obviously designed to be. Debate your favourite of the quartet (it’s the German accent for me) and note that, while Coogan goes all out for the titular scientist, he shows he can be restrained too. His President Muffley feels, well, presidential. 

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Giles Terera as General Turgidson and Steve Coogan as President Muffley

There are some strong performers accompanying Coogan – Giles Terera and John Hopkins to name but two. The whole ensemble can get laughs out of some pretty old gags. But we’re never allowed to question Coogan’s dominance. For his fans, that’s fine but it doesn’t make for a great play. No matter how quick the costume changes (and the dressers deserve applause), they still take up time. Foley also directs, and the scene changes are, frankly, unimaginative.

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John Hopkins as General Ripper

Surely these moments would have been an easy time to do something new, to make a break with the source material and surprise us. But if Coogan isn’t on stage, this adaptation isn’t interested. And the show ends up stuck in the 1960s, which feels like a missed opportunity. It’s not that the jokes are bad, but they are predictable and far from biting. The strategy is farce rather than satire, and a show about the end of the world ends up silly when it should also be, just a little, scary.

Until 25 January 2025

www.drstrangelove.com

Photos by Manuel Harlan

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“The Buddha of Suburbia” at the Barbican Theatre

One of my favourite directors, Emma Rice, brings Hanif Kureishi’s novel to the stage with every effort to achieve her usual flair. The rambling story, about the early life of Karim – his family, fortunes, and sexual exploits – has its moments, but regrettably, big failings.

Rice co-adapts the book with its author and the result is long. There’s detail, to a fault, but also rushing; the unevenness makes the show a slog. While the characters are vivid, maybe there are just too many of them? Making each role three-dimensional is an achievement but the overall result is confusing.

It’s nice that this hard-working cast each get their moments in the spotlight. Karim’s father (Ankur Bahl) impresses with his yoga, Katy Owen has two roles (Karin’s mother, then lover) and does well contrasting them, Rina Fatania has three and is on fine form in each. Lucy Thackeray and Natasha Jayetileke are strong as women in search of fulfillment. Individual scenes are often good but as a whole the show seems to lack purpose.

All the action, and anecdote, relate to Karim of course. And herein lies a problem. Kureishi’s anti-hero isn’t a strong enough creation. His self-absorption is a turn-off, his struggle strangely unconvincing and, put simply, he isn’t very nice. It’s the role of a lifetime for Dee Ahluwalia who has to carry the whole show; his commitment and stamina is impressive but Karim is hard to care about. 

There are inventive touches throughout; Rice can delight like few other directors. It helps that Karim is an actor and scenes in rehearsal rooms are great fun (and provide a super role for Ewan Wardrop as a director). The “mess” of theatre is evoked, creating bursts of energy and fun. Choreographed scenes from Etta Murfitt help and Rachana Jadhav’s set embodies the fluidity of the action. It’s a puzzle as to why it doesn’t work.

“Class, race, fucking and farce”

Taking a look at the play-within-the-play that Karim stars in might help. The onstage director devises a show with “class, race, fucking and farce” which describes The Buddha of Suburbia itself perfectly.

Class and race are tackled, but too briefly and with little imagination. Maybe the source material, published in 1990, has dated. Or our ideas about the 1970s have solidified. But the shorthand of events and sociology is laboured and sloppy. Ahluwalia struggles to deliver summaries that provide context, he’s even given a microphone to help, and is reduced to waving his hands around. More importantly we hear nothing new. There’s no challenge, just a mush of vague ideas. Even the clips used in Simon Baker’s video design are the usual retro stuff. There is little peril or drama; a traumatic attack is shockingly dismissed. And ideas about representation, surely pertinent, are dealt with lightly. It’s fine if you want the tone of the piece to be celebratory… but too many issues are raised and then left hanging.

There’s also little drama around Karim’s sex life, which is surprising. It makes the “fucking and farce” sections light and funny. Using fruit as a stand in for genitals is a genius move (it’s sure to be how the production is remembered) giving the whole show a big banana energy. It shows Rice’s playful wit and is brilliantly theatrical. Likewise, the party poppers used when characters climax is a super touch. The sex comedy (so appropriate for the 1970s) is a relief to the pedestrian talk of politics and class. But two out of four isn’t great.

Until 16 November 2024

www.barbican.org.uk

Photo by Steve Tanner © RSC