Uncategorised

“Backstroke” at the Donmar Warehouse

This new play, written and directed by Anna Mackmin, works hard but comes too close to being hard work. Performances from superstars Celia Imrie and Tamsin Greig make it a must-see, but it’s hard to escape the idea that without them patience would run short.

Looking back at the relationship of mother and daughter, Beth and Bo, after the former has a stroke, is a powerful story. But then, why wouldn’t it be? Much of the action is set on a deathbed.

Mackmin tries to avoid sentimentality, but her writing, like the subject, is heavy. The production isn’t helped by unnecessary filmed vignettes that accompany the action, a kind of internal dialogue for Bo that includes her own troubled daughter (and lots of screaming).

These are strong characters, interesting and well-performed, but are they a touch too eccentric to believe? This old hippy and her ambitious daughter have a complicated relationship. It’s revealed that Beth’s mental health has always been a problem and Bo has suffered as a result. Be warned: some jokes come close to the bone.

Beth also suffers from dementia and Mackmin’s depiction of this is more poetic than realistic. Credit to Imrie for the delivery, which must be extremely difficult. A loss of inhibition, mood swings and anger are all ticked off. But I’m not so sure about the malapropisms. Bo still makes sense a lot of the time, her repetition is haunting, but her search for words comes too close to funny.

Mackmin’s topic of motherhood is clear enough. If you’re in doubt, Bo’s adoption of Skylar brings the theme home (we only see this other damaged character on screen until the very end). Bo is finding parenting so hard that she admits she wants to give her daughter back. It’s a brave confession that needs more exploring to convince.

Backstroke-at-the-Donmar
Anita Reynolds, Lucy Briers and Georgina Rich

There are problems, too, when it comes to the hospital staff, a trio that are well-performed but close to stereotyped. From Georgina Rich’s aloof consultant to two very different nurses (Lucy Briers and Anita Reynolds), we are prepared for a debate about end-of-life care that doesn’t really take off.

Nonetheless, going back and forth in time is a boon for the performers, who really do impress. The focus shifts to the question of “how to die” and, if the swimming metaphor is laboured, the films become better, and our perception of Beth is cleverly modulated. It’s still too long, though, and a memorial speech by Bo pushes us into weepy territory. I’m not sure, given this subject matter, that reducing your audience to tears is really a big achievement.

Until 12 April 2025

www.donmarwarehouse.com

Photograph by Johan Persson

Uncategorised

“East is South” at the Hampstead Theatre

It’s an old trope in science fiction that, when asked if there is a God, a supercomputer replies: “There is now”. Playwright Beau Willimon’s riff on the idea of AI and divinity is intelligent and a refusal not to simplify such a complex topic is admirable. If too many ideas are mentioned then left unpacked, it probably isn’t a surprise. But this mix of modern concerns and religion benefits from director Ellen McDougall’s impressive infusion of dramatic tension and some fine performances.

The play is a series of interrogation scenes, set around an accident in an AI lab. So, there’s little action and an awful lot of talking. It works (just about) mostly through the efforts of Nathalie Armin, whose character is investigating the security breach. Her character is a psychologist, there’s the threat of terrorism, and Armin manages to make the role likeable, at the same time generating suspicion.

Luke-Treadaway-in-East-is-South-credit-Manuel-Harlan
Luke Treadaway

Willimon is too smart to give us good guys and bad guys, but the two programmers, Lena and Sasha, who have taken the dangerous step of “releasing” the AI programme might be a little more complex. Kaya Scodelario and Luke Treadaway both do well with the roles, but snippets of their relationship don’t add much (nor does an unnecessary Russian accent). The performers are strong enough to make us care for this young couple, who might even be in love, but, again, Willimon crams in detail that could be left aside.

It isn’t much of a spoiler to say Lena’s religious beliefs shape events – it’s easy to see the twist that she’s the mastermind and even to guess her eventual fate. Nonetheless, any mentions of blind faith are highlights, as is Willimon’s ability to reconcile contradictions (like those the play takes its title from). You might expect a little more scepticism, but sections connecting art and myth are well written and aided by David Ridley’s musical direction and some video design by Zakk Hein.

There are more problems with characters, though, and two really hamper things. A very standard Federal Agent (that Alec Newman manages to save) seems to belong in a different play. It’s odd that a government oversees the programme at all (and ironic most of us would feel reassured by that). Far worse is Lena and Sasha’s boss, a former academic so clichéd he could have been written by… no, I won’t say it. His insufferable word soup is dire and its delivery, by Cliff Curtis, is poor. The role is key, surely intended to help the audience out. But the character is a bad teacher, and the play suffers horribly as a result.

Until 15 March 2025

www.hampsteadtheatre.com

Photos by Manuel Harlan

Uncategorised

“Richard II” at the Bridge Theatre

After the tremendous, nearly two year long run of Guys and Dolls, Nicholas Hytner’s Tower Bridge venue has another hit on its hands. OK, it’s more star casting, with Jonathan Bailey taking the lead as Shakespeare’s deposed monarch. But there’s a lot more to this production; Hytner is too experienced a director to be swayed by a star and this is solid work through and through. 

Breathe easy, Bailey is very good. Richard’s complexity is tackled well; Bailey can do frantic and philosophical and he “sports” – his Richard is a wit and gets laughs. The performance is smart enough to use Bailey’s reputation as a heartthrob to lean into Richard’s vanity and suggest a parallel between the divine right of Kings and celebrity. If it is a depiction to respect rather than inspire, it is impossible not to admire it.

Bailey is also a generous performer; like Hytner, fully aware the text isn’t just about Richard. Every role is given its due with a tremendous attention to detail so that the whole ensemble shine. You might easily end up awarding the laurels to Royce Pierreson who plays the usurping Bullingbrook, brilliantly reflecting how the man’s ambition conflicts with a grudging respect for Richard. The future Henry IV is a schemer, of course, but the sense of events out of his control, and Pierreson reacting to them, is wonderfully dynamic.

Richard-II-Vinnie-Heaven-credit-Manuel-Harlan
Vinnie Heaven

There are further fine performances, from relatively small roles that are easy to ignore in most productions: Badria Timimi does well as the Bishop of Carlisle, providing an important religious context to the argument. Michael Simkins, Amanda Root and Vinnie Heaven are all superb as the family York torn apart by the conflict they find themselves in. Hytner and his cast convey how fraught capturing the crown is for these people, how tense this time in British history was, and the drama gains in tension as a result.

Richard-II-Amanda-Root-and-Michael-Simkins-credit-Manuel-Harlan
Amanda Root and Michael Simkins

Hytner uses Bob Crowley’s set marvellously, with minimal props appearing from the floor to effectively create scenes. It all looks stylish and, despite a long running time, the action is swift. If there’s a flaw, Grant Olding’s score for the show is cumbersome, imposing on events rather than complimenting them. But it’s hard to find fault in work that’s accomplished all around – a team, and a star, at the top of their game.

Until 10 May 2025

www.bridgetheatre.co.uk

Photos by Manuel Harlan

Uncategorised

“Elektra” at the Duke of York’s Theatre

Having a star in your show (and the ticket sales they bring) might, understandably, give a production confidence. This new version of Sophocles’ play has chutzpah – let’s give it that. But a lot the bravado is superficial, and I fear its celebrity casting – in this case Brie Larson – doesn’t come out as well as she deserves to.

The driving force for the production, and by far the best part of it, is the chorus. This sextet (Hannah Bristow, Wallis Currie-Wood, Jo Goldsmith-Eteson, Nardia Ruth, Rebecca Thorn and Adeola Yemitan) are present all the time, both narrating and responding to the action. They sing throughout, and Ted Hearne’s compositions are superb. Anne Carson’s script is strongest in the lyrics. And, importantly, the songs are good deal clearer than when the performers speak.

Elektra-credit-Helen-Murray

If the chorus brings the audience, other onlookers, close to events, it is worth remembering that there is a big world full of powerful people in this play. Carson fails to explain this, removing the action so far from its context, without providing an alternative, that it causes confusion. Most of the performers suffer: Stockard Channing plays mummy Clytemnestra, Marième Diouf and Patrick Vaill are Elektra’s siblings, and there’s a brief but powerful turn from the excellent Gregg Hicks. They all seem a little lost – and that’s an awful lot of talent to waste.

To add to the injury, the performers are put through the mill by director Daniel Fish. The stage revolves. The costumes are ungainly. There are a lot of microphones and a blinding light. And everyone is sprayed with some black fluid upon entrance. The atmosphere is one of experimentation. But these are experiments most will have seen before. To be fair, Fish uses all of the huge space (there’s a lot of dry ice). And while I hope Larsen is enjoying the experience, when it comes to her role, no one suffers more than her.

This isn’t a one woman show. The chorus is too strong for that and Larsen is a generous performer. But the focus is too much on the titular character which, ironically, makes Elektra weaker. Placing her in some kind of performance art space with touches of a spoken word open-mic night doesn’t just date the production, it diminishes her rebellion. Take Elektra’s singing: she sings the word ‘no’ (and Elektra says ‘no’ a lot). The point of it, as with many of the production’s bizarre movements, is a puzzle and it should be obvious that it will tire quickly. But it also means that Electra’s “destroying tongue” – her power – does not convince. And that is a tragedy.

Until 12 April 2025

www.elektraplay.com

Photos by Helen Murray

Uncategorised

“Stalled” at the King’s Head Theatre

Setting a musical in a bathroom is quirky but actually turns out to be sensible in this new musical from Liesl Wilke and Andy Marsh. The location provides a mix of women’s lives to explore – different ages and stages – with strong themes of motherhood and mortality. The talented cast are enjoyable and, although the results are mixed, Stalled is worth seeing. 

It is a shame that the inclusive strength of the idea becomes a weakness – this is a crowded powder room with too many characters for its 90-minute run. Maybe giving us glimpses, outlines, might have been better than trying to develop stories? True, the extensive ground covered – from teenage pregnancies to the problems of parenting and coming out as gay – means there’s something for everyone. But there’s also such a quantity of trauma, big and small, that the piece comes close to being a tough watch. And with so many issues of various import, some characters come dangerously close to just moaning.

It’s not that any of these stories is bad; more that putting them together is a lot. The cast provides highlights. Regina Co does a good job with her lesbian character, aided by her hipster crush played by Isabella Gervais. Grace Venus adds charm as a troubled pre-teen, while her struggling mother is played by Josie Benson, whose fantastic voice makes her numbers soar. The songs from March (with additional work from Kyle Puccia) are competent, middle-of-the road affairs. An effort is made to introduce variety, but I fear there isn’t anything memorable enough here (I admit my personal taste might cloud my judgement). The lyrics are better (some spoken word performed by Evita Khrime is a bold effort) but hampered by too much self-help therapy speak.

Director Vikki Stone complicates the show unnecessarily. There are moments of whimsy in the staging, choreography and lighting that seem ill-judged. There is little humour in Stalled and any efforts at jokes are poor. Why not just go with being serious? The show’s best moments are its rawest… which is where its central character comes in.

Maggie is the bathroom’s cleaner with a back story. Fans of musicals will probably guess what’s going on quickly. The character seems normal next to her customers, friendly and helpful, but is clearly haunted by something. It makes an excellent role for Lauren Ward, who is so good that she holds the show together… almost. That this ends up too much to ask is down to Wilke’s book rather than Ward’s performance, which is tear-filled for much of the time and has a startling sincerity. But you can see the problem coming a long way off. With so many stories, any resolution is going to be tricky. And with that streak of therapy speak, a lot of the last half hour ends up pat. The conclusion is full of fake smiles but if you don’t mind sentimentality that won’t bother you. I can see Stalled having fans and I sincerely hope it finds them.

Until 23 March 2025

www.kingsheadtheatre.com

Photo by Johan Persson 

Uncategorised

“Outlying Islands” at the Jermyn Street Theatre

David Greig’s 2002 play is a must-see. Firstly, because it is, very simply, wonderfully written. The story is simple, too, with a couple of ornithologists working in a remote location. But the play itself is richly complex – full of surprises I don’t want to spoil – with startling questions and big ideas.

This production boasts an expert crew. Director Jessica Lazar has worked on the play before, along with designers Anna Lewis, David Doyle, Christopher Preece and movement director Jennifer Fletcher, whose work all matches the elegance of the source material. Their experience shows, but Lazar’s approach remains fresh, bringing out humour and environmental concerns with extra force. This is a script that’s aging very well indeed.

A good deal of tension is fleshed out, primarily with the character of Robert and his fraught take on life. He’s a fantastic creation, brought to life by Bruce Langley. The dialogue is full of nerves and analysis, descriptions of the body that are, themselves, dissected. It’s a surprise how uncomfortable his scientific sense make us – Robert is blunt, “perpetually insulting” and a maverick. Langley gives him schoolboy charm, but is he dangerous, too?

Whitney-Kehinde-in-Outlying-Islands-by-Alex-Brenner
Whitney Kehinde

Robert is certainly captivating. Ellen, one of only two inhabitants on the island, falls for him. And she is Greig’s second brilliant portrait, one that Whitney Kehinde performs in all its complexity. The young woman’s vivid fantasy life connects to themes of technology – she’s an avid cinema-goer – but the steps she takes to realise her desires are startling. Living “in and out of dreams”, Kehinde powerfully combines the mystical and animalistic.

Robert’s friend and colleague John completes a triangle. A difficult role that newly graduated Fred Woodley Evans manages to make more than a foil. It’s John who remembers that a boat is coming to take them back to society. But talk of ‘decency’ becomes increasingly shrill as the play builds to its tense conclusion. How much the audience identifies with John is left open, just as it should be.

None of this considers the considerable humour in the play. A final brilliant performance comes from Kevin McMonagle as Ellen’s uncle, whose description of London as a gannetry s laugh-out-loud funny. Just as remarkable is how Outlying Islands is a ‘period’ play, set just before World War II, whose advent is explored, but with none of the usual clichés. Lazar’s triumph is to appreciate that a piece this good will never have a definitive version. Greig’s work is observed by her, interpretations are made, but it is clear that there will always be more to offer.

Until 15 March 2025

www.jermynstreettheatre.co.uk

Photos by Alex Brenner

Uncategorised

“The Years” at the Harold Pinter Theatre

This welcome transfer from the Almeida Theatre is a bold addition to the West End. Adapted by Eline Arbo from the work of Annie Ernaux in an English version by Stephanie Bain, it is an unapologetically highbrow piece that challenges its audience. And it’s, very, very, French. Ernaux is a public intellectual, the type you really only get across the channel. The inheritance of Proust, her work is steeped in politics and sociology. 

The Years is also moving and surprisingly entertaining. The strategy of employing five performers – Deborah Findlay, Romola Garai, Gina McKee, Anji Mohindra and Harmony Rose-Bremner – is a genius move. They all tell Ernaux’s story together, while there’s also a sense that they are telling the story of many women… albeit clever French women born just after World War II. The themes of memory and mortality, as the play takes us through a life, are extremely powerful.

Ernaux’s writing is taut and direct, and both the adaptation and Arbo’s direction do it justice. Discussions of desire are frank, there is a lot of frustration and masturbation. A scene of a backstreet abortion became notorious during its first run and is, indeed, remarkable (Garai’s performance in this scene is, literally, stunning). But every moment of the play is considered. As each cast member travels through time, there are detailed touches and moments everyone can recognise.

The Years isn’t perfect. Taking on so many roles falls flat once or twice, although Findlay and McKee are great as small boys. And the humour is repetitive. Sensual moments are fantastic, but too often the sex gets giggles (would the French find it funny?). The music (Thijs van Vuure) and movement used in the piece are hit and miss, leading to both the strongest and weakest moments. Arguably, the biggest flaw comes with notions of class, more of a concern for Ernaux than you’d think from this show. Our heroine’s background is murky; we go big on the historic repression of women but not so much on how it relates to social status.

Balancing a “collective consciousness” with a particular experience is tricky. There are a lot of dates here. A potted history is all too common on stage and, even if delivered well, is seldom effective. Likewise, the device of family photographs, which structures the show, while leading to a fabulous finale as the performers’ faces are filmed live (and illustrates the strength of Juul Dekker’s set design) is a touch overplayed. Ernaux’s intellectual curiosity is ferocious, her focus intense and the roots of both are complex. Maybe the highest praise for the production is that it preserves so much of her brilliance. 

Until 19 April 2025

www.theyearsplay.com

Photos by Helen Murray

Uncategorised

“Second Best” at The Riverside Studios

This new play, written by Barney Norris and based on David Foenkinos’ novel, is about trauma and how we process it. As the sole character, whose name is Martin, is about to become a father, his own childhood troubles come to the fore. The starting point is interesting, our guy came close to becoming Harry Potter in the film franchise. But bigger problems arise when his father dies and a new life with his mother and stepfamily leads to a mental breakdown.

You might be relieved that the theme isn’t actually celebrity. But the idea of missing out on such a life-changing event is a topic that might have provided more focus. Norris and director Michael Longhurst do well to take us back and forth in time, showing how Harry Potter comes to haunt Martin. The action is clear, but the question as to how much failure is really the problem is too open. It’s a disappointment that disappointment itself isn’t explored more. 

Despite observing him for a long time, Martin is sketchy character who it is hard to warm to, a fact that makes the performance here even more impressive. The show marks the stage debut of Asa Butterfield (and is, probably, what it will be remembered for). A one-man show is a smart choice and Butterfield acquits himself well. It’s a shame the sound design (Richard Hammarton) is so ferocious. And that, despite his loquaciousness, Martin doesn’t have much of a take on what he has experienced.

Butterfield’s effort wins respect. But Longhurst and designer Fly Davis bring a sense of working too hard. There’s a lot of unnecessary pacing around, and tricks to the set that make no sense. The art installation vibe looks good. But what’s the point of it? Are we getting a glimpse instead Martin’s mind? There’s a wooden box he hides in, transformed in the final scene, a hospital bed he climbs up to and a potato taped to the wall. None of this is bad, as such, but the degree of Martin’s damage remains a bit of a mystery. And given the show’s sentimental streak, I don’t think that is the intention.

Another idea that doesn’t quite work is to inject lighter touches into such a serious subject. Again, Butterfield does well here, but the Potter-based jokes aren’t great. Meanwhile, Martin’s solipsism makes other characters mentioned – his partner and parents – just… flat. We really need another view on what went on. Second Best leaves us with pop psychology, a lot of misery, brief and banal reflections on fame and big dollops of soppiness. Thankfully, there is a first-class performance to enjoy.

Until 1 March 2025

www.secondbestplay.com

Uncategorised

“The Gift” at the Park Theatre

Dave Florez’s new play has a neat scenario – about someone receiving an unpleasant package in the post – that is studiously crafted into a satisfying comedy, expertly directed by Adam Meggido and benefiting from a trio of strong performances.

It might be a missed opportunity that we discover, almost immediately, what’s in the cake box delivered to Colin. Overall, there isn’t quite enough tension in the play. That said, despite being suitably icky and leading to too many puns, what’s in the box isn’t really the point.

Florez’s close observation of the existential crisis the ‘gift’ provokes is spot on. Colin and his mid-life crisis are easily recognisable. Nicholas Burns, who takes the role, injects a lot of energy and makes the most of the jokes. Likewise, Colin’s sister and brother-in-law are tidy portraits that Laura Haddock and Alex Price get a lot from. Set in North London, the play even fits its Finsbury Park venue. If the social satire is light, it is well done. 

There’s fun as Colin goes over his life and remembers those he has hurt. He has a nice line in feeling like a victim (a rant about pass-agg emails is great). And a lot of soul searching, with the irony of never managing to address self-obsession, is good. It might be a shame we don’t feel for this manbaby a bit more? Colin has a big breakdown. But it’s entertaining to laugh at him.

Florez tries hard to add twists, and the cast does well to keep up the energy. But The Gift doesn’t build and struggles to find a punchline good enough to end on. Burns carries on landing lines, Haddock’s deadpan delivery gets better and better and Price even manages to make us like his character. It is, though, a story about “a man with a shit in a box and a chip on his shoulder”. And that has its limits.

Until 1 March 2025

www.parktheatre.co.uk

Photo by Rich Southgate

Uncategorised

“Oliver!” at the Gielgud Theatre

The heros of another hit new musical, Why Am I So Single?, are young friends who share a love of Lionel Bart’s 1960 show. It might strike you as odd that such Gen Z figures admire the old musical. It shouldn’t. As Cameron Mackintosh’s latest revival, via Chichester, illustrates, the piece is solid as ever and a foolproof crowd-pleaser.

Bart’s is a smart adaptation of the Charles Dicken’s classic (of course, it helps that we all know the story), cleverly stripping out the moments suitable for songs. And what songs! There’s not a tune most of the audience doesn’t recognise, and is each catchy, with a smart, distinctive spin on Victorian music-hall traditions indicative of in-depth knowledge. 

Although the cast is superb (there are four Olivers and I’m confident each is excellent) and the ‘ahh’ factor from watching young performers is present, the roles for children are carefully controlled. The focus is on the grownups who, as well as working expertly with their charges, get the chance to shine.

Katy-Secombe-and-Oscar-Conlon-Morrey-credit-Johan-Persson
Katy Secombe and Oscar Conlon-Morrey

There are super comic turns from Oscar Conlon-Morrey and Katy Secombe as Mr Bumble and the widow Corney, as well as the Sowerberry funeral directors, played by Stephen Matthews and Jamie Birkett. Aaron Sidwell’s Bill Sikes is suitably villainous, but there weren’t too many boos for him at the end – a little tortured angst in the performance makes him interestingly sympathetic. Shanay Holmes’ Nancy belts out her numbers to rapturous applause. And the star of the show is, of course, Fagin, performed here by the estimable Simon Lipkin with a surprising physicality. It’s great to get some energy into the role, although you might miss the threat Fagin should feel around Sikes (Lipkin looks as he might start a fight). Lipkin does especially well next to his young co-stars – there’s an appropriate sense he is the leader of this pack that is a pleasure to watch.

The production has a further strength. The direction and choreography are from Matthew Bourne. While Oliver! doesn’t lend itself to big dance numbers, Bourne’s eye for movement adds immeasurably. Marshalling the large cast around Lez Brotherston’s dynamic set is made exciting, and a touching sense of vulnerability is created with gestures matching the sentimentality of the piece to perfection. Both Bourne and Bart are bold in their treatment of Dickens – and the result is an old favourite you’ll be happy to have more of.

Booking until 29 March 2026

www.oliverthemusical.com

Photos by Johan Persson