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“Mademoiselle Julie”at the Barbican

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The Barbican offers Londoners yet another chance to see the very best of world theatre with French director Frédéric Fisbach’s bold new version of August Strindberg’s Mademoiselle Julie. Though written during its author’s naturalistic period, the production points to Strindberg’s later expressionist works and employs the conceit of updating the setting, if not the manners, of the story. The action starts with a wild celebration of Midsummer, with the mad mademoiselle defying convention to dance with the servants, to a pop music soundtrack, before bedding her father’s valet. Maybe I’ve been to too much theatre and too few parties, but this is a night like no other, with one guest dressed as an albino Wizbit and another wearing a bunny rabbit head.

There are some pretentious moments in Fisbach’s production but these can be forgiven for the French sophistication so palpably on offer. Artist Laurent P Berger’s set is a minimalist marvel (you can tell the guy has been hanging around white cubes), being part playground, part prison, with partitions to mirror the private and public power play Mademoiselle Julie is so full of. And Berger fully exploits the emotional potential of light and colour – no question that this show looks amazing.

The set is a work of art in its own right, but the draw for many will be superstar Juliette Binoche in the title role. She does not disappoint. Her Julie’s lust for life appeals but she really excels suggesting Julie’s thanatotic edge. In addition, Binoche enables Strindberg’s period details to retain their force – in both the shame and the erotic frisson that comes from a seduction between the social classes. As her lover, Nicolas Bouchaud does a superb job, suggesting his character’s complexity with a potential for violence that’s decidedly kinky – there’s boot licking and animal sacrifice, for heaven’s sake – but always riveting. I’m not sure about that rabbit though.

Until 29 September 2012

www.barbican.org.uk

Photo by Christophe Raynaud de Lage Festival d’Avignon

Written 21 September 2012 for The London Magazine

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“Zelda” at the Trafalgar Studios

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Critics have pointed out that this is the year of The Great Gatsby. With several stage versions, and Baz Luhrmann’s film in production, the author F.Scott Fitzgerald is much discussed. So it’s good to see another side to the story – that of his wife Zelda – in Kelly Burke’s powerful one-woman show. It’s a fascinating tale that succeeds in establishing its subject as a personality in her own right.

Burke is a captivating presence. Having written the show using texts by Zelda herself, she’s close to her subject. She makes Zelda both fun (it’s easy to see how she captivated the social scene of her day) and tragic, finding herself “thoroughly broken” after the Fitzgeralds make a Faustian pack with psychologists that has her imprisoned in a mental hospital, fighting for her creativity and only allowed to write, with a pencil, for an hour a day.

But, as with Nick in The Great Gatsby, Zelda isn’t a narrator we can trust. The creative symbiosis between her and Scott is exaggerated and this leads to tense drama. Burke’s intelligent performance makes Zelda beguiling – positioned on the edge of sanity with admirable restraint. The end arrives with a painful enforcement of the costly price Zelda paid for her life with the great man Fitzgerald. This is a carefully layered piece, superbly performed, that will stay with you far longer than its hour-long duration.

Until 4 October 2012

www.atgtickets.com/trafalgarstudios

Photo by Richard Davenport

Written 20 September 2012 for The London Magazine

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“Hindle Wakes” at the Finborough Theatre

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The Finborough Theatre continues its justly acclaimed tradition of revivals with a centenary production of Stanley Houghton’s Hindle Wakes. Revolving around an affair that occurs during a Bank Holiday for Lancashire Mill workers, and the ensuing arguments among the parents of the couple who have played away, in Llandudno of all places, the play is a tightly constructed satire on Edwardian hypocrisy, handled with deft humour by director Bethan Dear.

Above all, Hindle Wakes is funny. The self-righteousness of the parents, determined that their children should (or shouldn’t) marry after making merry, is so unsubtle that the characters run straight into every trap set for them and Dear chooses to play it for broad comedy. There may be some room for reservation when it comes to the younger generation: Fanny, her weekend lover Alan and his fiancée Beatrice seem more engaged with their situation and choose to think about what they, rather than society, really want. But the Victorian generation is easy to parody, so Dear’s approach to go for the laughs makes sense.

The talented cast embraces the comedy marvellously. Peter Ellis and Richard Durden play the fathers with the shared sense of resolving the unfortunate event, and both give excellent renditions of gruff Northern manners. But it’s the female parts that really make Hindle Wakes stand out. The mothers, Anna Carteret and Susan Penhaligan, have meaty roles that they manage impressively without parody. And our heroine Fanny, the plain speaking Lancashire lass, startles and inspires with her frankness. Ellie Turner’s clarity and passion in the role do the character justice – I’d go to Llandudno with her anytime.

Until 29 September 2012

www.finboroughtheatre.co.uk

Photo by Claire Bilyard

Written 15 September 2012 for The London Magazine

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“The Judas Kiss” at Hampstead Theatre

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David Hare’s 1998 play, The Judas Kiss, takes two pivotal moments in Oscar Wilde’s relationship with Lord Alfred Douglas: his refusal to flee to the continent before his arrest for ‘gross indecency’ and the couple’s final split in Naples. The story makes terrific drama. Under the expert hands of renowned Australian director Neil Armfield, this well-known tale is used to explore the emotions and motivations behind a great love story.

It’s not often that a casting director gets a mention in a review but Cara Beckinsale deserves it. Rupert Everett as Wilde seems so obviously right that it’s strange he hasn’t taken on the part before. His physical transformation is remarkable – the resemblance uncanny – and his intelligent and magnetic performance swings from brilliant dazzler to private thinker, aware that he has been “cast in a role”.

Freddie Fox brings his cheekbones and youth to the role of Lord Alfred Douglas, but he doesn’t just look the part. This ‘Bosie’ goes beyond the spoilt child – Fox gives his selfishness a pathological edge. The Judas Kiss is really a three-hander, with the part played by Robbie Ross in Wilde’s life given the place it deserves. Dismissed by Douglas as “third party”, this integral figure is poignantly portrayed by Cal MacAninch.

Ross’s presence is just another example of what a well-crafted play The Judas Kiss is. Taking on big themes, as Wilde believed an artist should, and arguably sneaking in a few more – issue of rights, freedom and a “crisis of silence” – that make Wilde’s plight feel contemporary, Wilde becomes more than a gay martyr or quotable figure. In Hare’s hands he is made human. This give The Judas Kiss the passion needed for great theatre.

Until 13 October 2012

www.hampsteadtheatre.com

Photo by Manuel Harlan

Written 13 September 2012 for The London Magazine

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“Fully Committed” at the Menier Chocolate Factory

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A most disappointing show at the usually excellent Menier Chocolate Factory, Fully Committed by Becky Mode is a comedy set in a successful restaurant. In America, Mode’s play was as big a hit as the restaurant she bases it in, which is booked out – fully committed in the chef’s jargon. If you’re a VIP or willing to bend the rules, you can get a table. As for getting a theatre ticket, only bother if you want something very light.

Forefront at the battle for a restaurant reservation is our hero Sam, who mans the phones and deals with the frankly freakish clientele. Kevin Bishop is on the stage alone, performing not just as Sam but all the callers he answers the phone to and the staff he communicates with via intercom. It’s a neat, simple idea, perfect for a one man show and entertaining enough, but there’s little substance here; in fact it’s so thin, it’s anorexic.

Worse than the lack of plot, Fully Committed is lazy. Not Bishop’s performance, which is highly energetic and pleases the crowd, or Mark Setlock’s direction which is clear and precise, but the text lacks surprises and has poor characterisation. The snobbery and pretention at the restaurant can all be predicted, as can any small amounts of satire. There’s an authentic feel, in fact I suspect it could have been more exaggerated, but this is in-joke for out of work actors or those that dine out expensively.

A good sitcom will provide considerable emotional investment in its characters – such interest is lacking in Fully Committed. Sam is as weakly written as the people on the other end of the phone line – likeable, just about, but simply not interesting enough. Sam becomes more confident when he might get an acting job; he even becomes rude to the obnoxious chef. Oh, and he gets to go home for Christmas… but that’s all.

The humour comes from Bishop who is skilled and switches accents with speed. But these are impersonations, some of them good and the quantity certainly impressive, but many just silly voices. There are laughs but nothing that stays with you and an over-reliance on racial stereotypes that’s a little tasteless. So while it’s impressive that the phone calls keep coming, there’s little momentum, nothing to get your teeth into and very little bite.

Until 15 November 2014

www.menierchocolatefactory.com

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“King Lear” at the Almeida Theatre

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London audiences are spoilt when it comes to stars and Shakespeare. Depending on their age, anyone aspiring to credibility tackles Hamlet or King Lear, and we all get to benefit from the results. Among the exciting celebrity strewn shows, none is more splendid than Michael Attenborough’s latest production of King Lear at the Almeida, with Jonathan Pryce in the title role. Not only is Pryce gut-wrenchingly good – every aspect of this riveting production deserves praise.

Pryce’s Lear is full of subtlety and dynamism. By turns forceful and frail, he makes the character’s decline unbearably moving, even while injecting an unusual degree of humour into the role. But any banter comes with a steely edge – this is a man used to people laughing when he tells a joke. There is a residual power that makes it easy to imagine what kind of ruler he was.

There are also fine performances in the supporting roles, especially from the women in the cast. Phoebe Fox is a spirited Cordelia whose prickly edge makes it easy to identify her as her father’s daughter. Zoe Waites and Jenny Jules play Goneril and Regan with a terrifying ferocity that remains credible despite the extremity of their actions.

Tom Scutt’s design makes the most of the stripped-back venue, evoking prisons and army camps, adding to a tense production that at times is paced like a thriller. Attenborough’s attention to detail is captivating – watching the actors’ hands, as they reflect emotions from repression through to violence, becomes compelling. You will be gripped the whole way through.

Until 3 November 2012

www.almeida.co.uk

Photo by Keith Pattison

Written 12 September 2012 for The London Magazine

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“I Am a Camera” at the Southwark Playhouse

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It’s hard for a critic to consider I Am a Camera without recalling American reviewer Walter Kerr’s brickbat one-liner, “me no Leica”. Indeed, John Van Druten’s 1951 play, based on Christopher Isherwood’s Goodbye to Berlin, is an undeveloped affair. It doesn’t help that the story went on to become Cabaret, as comparisons are inevitable and this script is a long way from anything divine or decadent. All the more credit, then, to director Anthony Lau and his cast who make this evening at the Southwark Playhouse such great entertainment.

Van Druten’s text is dated – there is barely a nod to Isherwood’s homosexuality, nor any real sense of Nazi threat. The supporting roles are also weak, although Joanne Howarth’s landlady, Fraulein Schneider, is an intriguing, developed presence. Lau’s focus, therefore, is on our heroes: the narrator Isherwood, struggling with “obscene laziness” in rented rooms, and the “young and savvy” Sally Bowles. Their relationship, a marriage of sorts that almost becomes the real thing, is touching and tremendous fun.

Van Druten’s Isherwood isn’t an entirely likeable character. He is petulant and pretentious, and Harry Melling plays him with an engaging intensity. But it’s when Sally Bowles, portrayed by Rebecca Humphries, is on stage that things really take off. Melling and Humphries create a chemical formula not to be missed. Humphries is a natural comedienne with a deadpan delivery, keeping the audience on its toes as she dips between spoilt child and worldly sage. More opera diva than cabaret artist, her Sally Bowles is the star of the show.

Until 22 September 2012

www.southwarkplayhouse.co.uk

Photo by Nicolai Kornum

Written 7 September 2012 for The London Magazine

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“Troilus and Cressida” at the Riverside Studios

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The World Shakespeare festival, which this new production of Troilus and Cressida at the Riverside Studio includes, has made audiences more familiar with radical versions of the canon. But this co-production between the RSC and the renowned American company, The Wooster Group, is staged in such a bizarre fashion, the play becomes confusing and alienating. It doesn’t help that the actors interact with videos mounted on big poles as they perform. This gives rise to seemingly erratic movements which have been prompted by the videos. Frankly, makes the whole show downright odd.

Co-directors Elizabeth LeCompte and Mark Ravenhill set Shakespeare’s Trojan war love story in an unspecified location with Native Americans against contemporary British soldiers. Sort of. The Trojans have futuristic costumes (by Folkert De Jong) and the British troops have a tendency to don drag. You certainly won’t be bored, but there is no balance – the play is made into a puzzle. It’s true that Troilus and Cressida is full of contradictions, but this company is obsessed with abandoning any coherence: the ideas and delivery may be eye-catching, but they add little humour or, more importantly, drama.

It is the actors who suffer most by this treatment with their performances reduced to bizarre cameos. Marin Ireland and Scott Shepherd deliver the title roles in a deliberately monotonous, stylised, fashion. Among the Trojans only Greg Mehrten’s Pandarus manages to break this spell by the force of his stage presence. The British contingent do better (maybe their delivery is more familiar), but Aidan Kelly’s WWF-inspired Ajax and Zubin Varla’s Thersites stubbornly reject any subtlety and quickly become annoying. Scott Handy has a better night of it as an asthmatic Ulysses, but his brief appearance as Helen is such bizarre casting, it jars. Most damning of all, Shakespeare’s text is delivered so differently that comprehension suffers. Whatever points that LeCompte and Ravenhill wish to make are unclear. Most of the plot is lost as well.

Until 8 September 2012

www.riversidestudios.co.uk

Photo by Hugo Glendinning

Written 31 August 2012 for The London Magazine

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“Soul Sister” at the Savoy Theatre

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Fans of Tina Turner should hotfoot it to the Savoy Theatre to catch the limited run of Soul Sister. It’s ‘inspired’ by the life, times and music of Ike and Tina Turner, and all the hits are there, from the soul classics of the 60s to the chart toppers of the 80s, and the performances are spectacular. Soul Sister may fail miserably as musical theatre – the life and times are drearily depicted – but if it’s the music you want then this is simply the best.

Tina tells us, in one of many annoying projections that interrupt rather than add to the songs, that the stories about her and Ike only “scratch the surface”: an idea that Pete Brooks and John Miller, who devised the piece, seem to take as given and don’t desire to change. It’s a shame that with such an emotive story of rags to riches (and that turbulent love affair along the way) they make so little of the material.

Attempts to paste topics as diverse as Buddhism and women’s rights over Ike and Tina’s personal stories are unsatisfying and vaguely insulting. Worse, the production gives the cast very little chance to make a mark with its acting skills. Emi Wokoma and Chris Tummings, who take on the lead roles, try their hardest but have shamefully little to work with.

Thankfully, shortly into the second half, any attempt to tell a story is abandoned and Soul Sister becomes a true tribute act. Backed by a superb band, Wokoma can get on with singing and this she does fantastically. It’s not just a matter of the mannerisms and the big wig – it’s more the big noise that she can make. Wokoma’s vocals put heart into the evening and her stunning sound saves the night.

Until 1 October 2012

Photo by Marilyn Kingwill

Written 24 August 2012 for The London Magazine

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“Vieux Carré” at the Charing Cross Theatre

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Vieux Carré is a late work by Tennessee Williams that might be dismissed as overblown melodrama, but a new production from director Robert Chevara, transferring to the Charing Cross Theatre after a successful run at the King’s Head in Islington, asks us to think beyond the campery and caricature. In contrast to Williams’ baroque writing, Chevara and his designer Nicolai Hart-Hansen present a stripped-back, minimal affair that focuses attention and allows the poetry in the play to shine.

Set in a squalid boarding house in New Orleans, much of the action in Vieux Carré borders on the macabre or the insane. The gentlemen callers of Williams’ earlier plays have turned into vagrants and the playwright’s approach to sex and death is painfully direct. The occupants of this “New Babylon” seem familiar from earlier work but are now “far past pride”; grotesque enough to make “remarkable tableaux vivants” that even they seem shocked by. Considering the extreme characters, the cast’s performances are admirably restrained: the landlady Mrs Wire (Helen Sheals) sinks into madness at a controlled pace and a tortured love affair is performed convincingly by Samantha Coughlan and Paul Standell.

None of the characters is closer to dangerous parody than the “rapacious” homosexual artist Nightingale, so David Whitworth’s performance deserves special note for its appreciation of Williams’ humour as well as emphasising the loneliness that so occupied the author and gives the play its emotional power.

It is Nightingale’s relationship with the play’s narrator, a young writer naturally, that interests most – an autobiographical tease that Tom Ross-Williams has the talent and stage presence to carry. His neighbours are the material for his work but his observations lack coherence and are a shadow of Williams’ own oeuvre. As a play, Vieux Carré is frustrating but Chevara comes within a hair’s breadth of convincing us this is a major work, and that makes his production an important one to see.

Until 1 September 2012

www.charingcrosstheatre.co.uk

Photo by Tim Medley

Written 20 August 2012