2023

“The Garden of Words” at the Park Theatre

At a guess, Susan Momoko Hingley and Alexandra Rutter’s adaptation of Makoto Shinkai’s anime suffers from being too enamoured of its source. If you don’t know the original novel or film, then the story, structure and characters are confusing on stage. While bringing the genre to the theatre is an interesting project, I fear this production is for fans only.

We follow two school pupils through snatched scenes. Takao wants to design shoes and plays truant to talk to an older woman in the park when it rains. Meanwhile, Shōko has an abusive relationship with a basketball player conducted entirely over the phone. It’s intriguing, if slow, and looks at plenty of teenage troubles. But the disjointed telling means too much time is taken working out the basics.

It’s impressive that two young leads manage to make the show watchable. Shoko Ito and Hiroki Berrecloth are engaging and ably supported by James Bradwell and Susan Momoko Hingley herself, who play the latter’s brother and mother respectively. All bring out a good deal of tenderness and humour when addressing their characters’ various insecurities and problems – but issues arrive out of the blue and lack subtlety.

The twist, that the women Takao is talking to, Yukari, turns out to be a teacher, is tough to believe. And Yukari’s actions seem oddest of all – drinking in the park while she’s supposed to be at work. The chronology means problems in the school are a puzzle. Aki Nakagawa’s beatific portrayal of her makes her problems pale. The theme of intergenerational friendship is lost.

Maybe it’s better to think about the show in terms of atmosphere. Here, Rutter’s work as a director is better. There are attempts to create a poetic air that reflects the characters’ isolation. The movement is good and the music from Mark Choi is excellent. But problems persist. Cindy Lin’s set ends up fussy, with benches moved around interminably. And the show does not sit well with venue’s thrust stage – in particular, projections of poetry are too brief and too small.

The tone of the piece changes after the interval – what’s going on becomes clearer. But there are still those questions about motivation. We’re told that “all humans are weird” more than once and we can see that’s true. But it isn’t obvious where the observation leads. Such puzzles about Takao’s and Shōko’s feelings might be fine if the production was engrossing, but it all feels pruned rather than profound.

Until 9 September 2023

www.parktheatre.co.uk

Photos by Piers Foley

2023

“The Effect” at the National Theatre

The well-publicised premise behind Lucy Prebble’s hit play is shrewd: when two people on a medical trial fall in love, is it real, or is it because of the drug they are taking?  The story is an easy sell… you want to know, don’t you?

Watching Tristan and Connie, who have volunteered for the experiment, falling for one another is great. It’s funny at times, as well as intense, and it provides big roles for Paapa Eddiedu and Taylor Russell. A strong couple, the performances are eye-catching and confident, a shoo-in for awards.

Yet it is the way The Effect opens and develops that impresses most. And the director of this revival, the estimable Jamie Lloyd, reaps tension from every idea and emotion in the play. Like the script, the production fizzes – and so will your mind.

For Dr Sealy, the proselytising scientist behind the experiment, falling in love is part of fighting depression, a way of dealing with ageing and even resolving philosophical questions of mind and body. Modesty is not his forte.

While Sealy is in charge, he doesn’t run the show – that’s down to Dr James, who is the voice of reason (you might guess that becomes an irony), reminding us of how complicated people are and thereby questioning the experiment and even the science itself. 

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Michele Austin

These are two more fantastic roles, brilliantly performed. Sealey is too much the villain and his faults serve the play too neatly, so more credit to Kobna Holdbrook-Smith, who makes the role plausible. But the play really belongs to Michele Austin, whose caring Dr James has personal problems exacerbated by the job. While Eddiedu and Russell are moving, Austin and her character pack the most emotional punch.

The strength of The Effect comes with Prebble’s brilliant plotting. Questions of placebo and bias land like bombs. Lloyd reflects this with dramatic lighting and music from Jon Clark and Michael ‘Mikey J’ Asante – both are strong, if not strictly necessary.

Prebble also considers the audiences’ own psychology, expectations and prejudices in our reactions to her characters. It proves difficult to watch someone take a Stoop test (dramatically projected onto the stage) without responding yourself, and impossible not to have bias when information is revealed. A mirroring and layering between action on stage and in our own heads builds – and the effect is profound.

Until 7 October 2023

www.nationaltheatre.org.uk

Photos by Marc Brenner

2023

“Spiral” at the Jermyn Street Theatre

Big ambitions and bold moments provide enough intrigue for Abigail Hood’s new play to hold attention. Regrettably, strangely, the play suffers from an excess of imagination. From the strong scenario of a couple whose child has gone missing, Spiral engages, but too often tests.

From the top, Tom and Gill, whose daughter has been missing for six months, are written with care. Hood has provided strong roles that Jasper Jacob and Rebecca Crankshaw make the most of. Examining the details of how their marriage has suffered is done well – these are the play’s best scenes and show strong work from director Kevin Tomlinson.

We first meet Tom as he has hired an escort, Leah, to impersonate his daughter (school uniform and all). The scene is every bit as uncomfortable as it sounds. A challenge is fine – Tom’s protestations that the role-play helps him is interesting. But while the writer Hood, who also takes the part of Leah, acts well, the script is clunky and the dialogue hollow.

The action continues to be outlandish, with the arrival of Leah’s boyfriend and pimp Mark (a role director Tomlinson takes). Again, Hood’s performance is strong – that her character feels she is “a nothing person” is moving. But the wish to be confrontational – and efforts at a dark eroticism – fall flat. Neither Mark nor his gaslighting are convincing or detailed enough.

Further interactions between characters stay odd and, even worse, oddly static. Hood wants to ask how people react in extreme conditions, but ends up baffling. Leaving aside what has happened to Tom and Gill’s girl is a mature move. But plot is piled on relentlessly: an alleged assault by Tom, Leah’s pregnancy, Gill’s alcoholism and Mark’s stalking.

There is no shortage of action or puzzle here, and the work put into the play is clear. Could Tom’s interaction with Leah really be innocent? Could his wife ever understand this? And is Leah acting altruistically? (Note that there are no questions surrounding Mark, except would the piece be better as a three-hander?) Questions are good, but it is possible for a play to have too many of them, and Spiral ends up suffering as a result.

Until 19 August 2023

www.jermynstreetheatre.co.uk

Photo by Ben Wilkin

2023

“The Pillowman” at the Duke of York’s Theatre

It’s surprising that this is the first London revival and West End debut for Martin McDonagh’s 2003 play. Given its author’s fame and the work’s reputation, you might have expected to see the piece more often. It’s worth the wait. The Pillowman is every bit as puzzling and disturbing as I recalled from its National Theatre debut. And if you don’t know the play, then prepare to scratch and shake your head in equal measure.

The reputation isn’t hard to fathom. McDonagh always challenges his audiences intelligently and there’s plenty to think about, while pushing the bounds of good taste makes us laugh a lot. The language is blue (less shocking even since 2003) but, given how much child torture and murder features in The Pillowman, it should still be a hard sell. Even those who like the blackest of humour might blanch at the stories told here.

The teller of said stories is one Katurian, who we meet being interrogated my police in a nameless totalitarian state. The questioning is odd, but just as unsettling are Katurian’s morbid tales, which are quoted to her by the police and told in asides. And that isn’t quite right, is it? All our support should surely be with the writer. But the power of these stories, riffs on fairy tales that even Hans Christian Andersen would think go too far, is the focus. Because someone has been acting them out!

It seems a bit mean to say who the perpetrator is – it’s a good twist. But McDonagh plays with expectations marvellously. Firstly, Katurian’s brother, Michal, who is mentally challenged, loses our sympathy. Then those awful cops start to look… maybe not so bad? They have a story to tell, too. What Katurian gets up to made me gasp. The price this writer is willing to pay for posterity is another shocker.

Such strong material isn’t automatically easy to bring to the stage – McDonagh is demanding of performers. Director Matthew Dunster has engendered fine acting while showing commendable respect for the script. The policemen, Paul Kaye and Steve Pemberton, aren’t strangers to dark humour. If their performances lack surprises, they are still accomplished. Matthew Tennyson makes Michal suitably spooky, and his chemistry with his onstage sister is unnerving. But the star of the night is Lily Allen, who is revelatory in the lead role. Allen shows huge control as her character faces constant violence and horror, indicating how smart Katurian is, yet never going for cheap laughs. Above all, the importance of the work to Katurian is convincing, providing a sense of reality in a play that has so much fantasy and from which nightmares ensue.

Until 2 September 2023

www.pillowmanplay.com

Photo by Johan Persson

2023

“Dr Semmelweis” at the Harold Pinter Theatre

Medical history is the subject of this new play written by Stephen Brown and Mark Rylance, the play’s star. While the story is important, it isn’t that dramatic – we’re in the realms of research, after all, conducting experiments the audience knows the outcome of. The many successful strategies employed by director Tom Morris to add emotion are impressive. But regrettably, none quite overcomes the poor script.

The titular 19th-century Viennese doctor was one of the first to speculate about contagion and propose cleanliness as essential through his work as an obstetrician. Brown and Rylance understandably focus on women’s health. Again important, but the script relies on the role of a midwife (for some reason Irish) that’s full of clichés. Pauline McLynn, who takes the part, has an awful lot to do; not just dealing with the sexism the character encounters, but providing too many pointers to the audience about how we’re supposed to be reacting. Meanwhile, the basics are lacking: the scene could be better set, especially since rejection by the establishment is a plot point. And there might be a little more background about the state of medicine to highlight Semmelweis’ achievement.

Rylance has written a mammoth role for himself – the delivery of which is sure to impress and has secured strong reviews. Semmelweis was a troubled character: brilliant and intolerant, he ended his life in a mental institution. Intelligently, the character fits well with Rylance’s performance style, which has plenty of admirers, but is often fraught. And much of the script is verbose and predictable, clunky and declaratory. Does the portrayal convince, or is it a matter of the energy Rylance undoubtedly brings to the role? I suspect the answer depends on how much of a fan of him you are.

Rylance does power the show. But the play’s other characters suffer as a result. There are strong performances as friends and colleagues from Ewan Black, Felix Hayes and Jude Owusu, but they are simply foils – and the latter’s death seems particularly wasted. The poor wife, who spends most of the first act asking why what we are all watching was kept a secret from her, means that Amanda Wilkin’s considerable talent is wasted. Perhaps the biggest missed opportunity is Semmelweis’ nemesis at the Vienna Hospital, Johann Klein. Alan Williams’ performance in the part is good – but the play would be better if the role weren’t such a straw man.

There’s an antidote to a lot of these problems, though. The use of dance, with choreography by Antonia Franceschi and music from Adrian Sutton, comes to the rescue. Both beautiful and frightening, the show’s movement brings out mortality and violence. A quartet accompanies the action on stage and the supporting cast of patients bring the focus on to the mothers that Semmelweis saved far more effectively than his many speeches.

Until 7 October 2023

www.nationaltheatre.org.uk

Photos by

2023

“The Wind and the Rain” at the Finborough Theatre

It’s hard to go wrong with the revivals that make up part of the exciting programming at Neil McPherson’s west London venue. The chance to see moments of theatrical history, always produced to the highest standard, is a great opportunity. This first London revival in 80 years of a smash hit from 1933 fits the bill perfectly.

Following our sensitive hero, Charles Tritton, through his time at medical school, the piece might be considered a coming of age drama. How this bright young thing deals with the world through the men he meets, students of different ages, is a neat exploration of socialization. Sophisticated older figure Paul, the lazy and libidinous Gilbert, or nice but dim Harvey are all potential models for Charles. These characters work in relation to Tritton, but are thought-provoking in their own right.

What Charles takes from these other men with regards his relationships to women isn’t much of a plot. The play’s focus becomes a love triangle between the girl Charles’ mother wants him to marry and another, Anne, he meets while studying. That his intended fiancée, Jill, is described as a “proxy sister” makes the drama falter for a contemporary crowd. Overall, it’s hard to appreciate the pressure here. Thankfully, Hodge doesn’t want it to be hard work; the dialogue is rich and director Geoffrey Beevers impeccable work provides time to explore its humour.

Although the roles are uneven, it is with characters that The Wind and the Rain is at its best. Charles is a strong central figure and the performance from Joe Pitts is enjoyable. Pitts has confused anxiety down pat (no small achievement) but also follows the character’s growth skilfully. The performance claims sympathy for Charles and his vaguely Bohemian views, even though efforts to consider others end up oddly selfish! Privileged and moody, spoilt even – Pitts does a great job showing it all.

While outnumbered on stage, the women in the show do well. There’s a neat comic part for the excellent Jenny Lee as the land lady. But it’s the love interests that excite. It would be easy to roll eyes at some of this writing: Jill is giggling and giddy, Anne far too self-sacrificing. But wait a moment. Two brilliant performances from Helen Reuben and Naomi Preston-Low respectively elevate these characters. Reuben brings out some of the show’s best humour and a steely edge that shows what a careful study her work is. Preston-Lowe secures the independence of her character while adding the romance the piece demands. 

The Wind and the Rain ran in the West End for over a thousand performances; this revival is a glance at the theatrical mainstream, rather than the avant-garde, of the past. If the play strikes contemporary audiences as quaintly old-fashioned, maybe too slow with a thin plot, its dialogue and characters intrigue. As a guess, the excellent performances in this conscientious revival are the key to understanding the play’s success both then and now.

Until 5 August 2023

www.finboroughtheatre.co.uk

Photo by Mark Senior

2023

“Bones” at the Park Theatre

Lewis Aaron Wood’s well-intentioned play is elevated by the work of director Daniel Blake. If this examination of the mental health problems of a rugby player – Ed – is not as insightful as might be hoped, Blake’s staging is strong, and his cast’s performances are impressive.

Aaron Wood has focus, and Bones is neatly written. While the dialogue is occasionally stilted, this reflects the play’s characters, who are believable, if not compelling. Ed says surprisingly little about his depression and anxiety, or even his recently dead mother. Of course, reticence is part of the point. But interactions with family and friends show his problems are a poorly kept secret, so tension in the piece doesn’t work dramatically.

Ed cannot manage an “injury that doesn’t heal”, and the connection between physical and mental health, highlighted through sport, shouldn’t be a revelation to anyone. Moreover, the machismo of the rugby team is well-trodden ground. Instead, it is when Aaron Wood writes about the game itself that the script takes off. Presenting rugby as a “safe space” is a smart irony.

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Ronan Cullen

While the play is better on sport than on mental health, there are plenty of secure performances to be proud of, especially in Ronan Cullen, who takes the lead and complements the script. Cullen does not stress his character’s pain – Ed wouldn’t do that – but he brings an intensity to the role that is commanding. Ed’s friends make strong roles for Ainsley Fannen and Samuel Hoult. Fannen brings out some laddish humour well (another strong point of the script), while showing us a silly but sensitive young man. Hoult’s character also convinces, but it’s a shame the dynamic of his being slightly older isn’t explored more. Last but by no means least is the hardworking James Mackay, who takes on multiple roles including Ed’s father, another character who could easily be developed.

The talented cast excels when it comes to Blake’s ambitious direction of scenes on the rugby pitch. The physicality is hugely impressive, with everyone throwing, catching, forming scrums and tackling one another. These scenes, enhanced by Eliza Willmott’s sound design, are hugely effective and almost frightening in such a small theatre! While this is an uneven show, the games and training are brilliantly depicted and match Aaron Wood’s most inspired moments.

Until 22 July 2023

www.parktheatre.co.uk

Photo by Charles Flint

2023

“Crazy for You” at the Gillian Lynne Theatre

Billed as a ‘new’ Ira and George Gershwin show when it premiered in 1992, based on the musical Girl Crazy but with extra songs, Crazy for You is as solid a piece of theatre as you could wish for. Ken Ludwig’s book uses a neat plot that provides plenty of comedy as well as room for gorgeous tunes and great dance numbers. In short, it’s a safe bet, but add a star like Charlie Stemp and this production becomes special.

Stemp plays Bobby Child, desperate to break out of banking and into a dance career, pointing out how great theatre is along the way (always nice to hear). This involves Bobby putting on his own show – literally saving a theatre – while masquerading as a producer for comic effect. And there’s romance, with Bobby falling in love with (guess) the show-within-a-show’s leading lady. Simple? Remember, Stemp must be a comic and romantic lead, while singing and dancing… and he really can do it all.

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Charlie Stemp and Tom Edden

Make no mistake – this whole cast is strong. Carly Anderson is leading lady Polly, sounding sweet and graceful with every move (she wears slacks like a ball gown). Polly has independence, but you can’t escape that the role is there to provide swoon and Anderson delivers. Natalie Kassanga’s Irene has her eye on Bobby, with fun results – her voice is so strong you really want the role expanded. And there’s a great comic turn from Tom Edden as a theatre impresario Bobby impersonates. The humour throughout is old-fashioned (bolstered by strong cameos from Sam Harrison and Rina Fatania as two restaurant reviewers), but thoroughly entertaining.

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Rina Fatania and Sam Harrison

Susan Stroman, the show’s original choreographer, adds director to her credits for this revival (which began at the Chichester Festival Theatre) and paces the action with confidence. Excitingly, Stroman’s knowledge of the piece results in some risks: the dancing is a bit bonkers! Occasionally fevered, full of wit as well as plenty of acrobatics, it is value-for-money stuff. There are new orchestrations, too (from Doug Besterman and Mark Cumberland), which emphasise percussion to a bold degree.

Best of all, Stroman uses her star for all he’s worth – and that is a lot. Aside from being one of the best singers and dancers around, with that prized skill of making it all look easy, Stemp can get a laugh and make emotions genuine. Crazy for You isn’t Shakespeare (despite a touch of Twelfth Night with its wooing in disguise), but the love affair convinces. Maybe Stemp appeals because he seems to be having so much fun? That enjoyment makes him perfect casting for a role that focuses on a love of theatre and gives the whole production an infectious joy.

Until 20 January 2024

www.crazyforyoumusical.com

Photos by Johan Persson

2023

“A Strange Loop” at the Barbican Theatre

Michael R Jackson’s Pulitzer Prize and Tony Award-winning musical is one of the most anticipated pieces of theatre this year. First produced off-Broadway in 2019, it has arrived in London relatively quickly along with rhapsodic reviews. With an exciting score, it is riotously funny, provocative and extremely clever. Although you might say that A Strange Loop is extreme all-round.

If you’ve heard about the show already, it will probably be about its meta-theatricality, which we’ve seen before, but maybe not to this extent. A Strange Loop is a musical about writing not one but two musicals. Usher (our hero goes by his job title) is a young, impoverished composer, who has taken on ghost-writing a Tyler Perry-style show for cash while also working on a personal project about… himself.

Here’s where the big theme of identity comes in. The show’s title comes from cognitive science and a theory about our conception of the ‘I’ – that our construction of ‘self’ is illusory. Yet there’s plenty of reality for Usher, who sings about being black, gay, feminine, poor and plus-size, plus the size of his penis. A lot of this is amusing and, when it comes to his troubled sex and family life, also moving. But if it sounds like a lot… well, it is.

Plenty in A Strange Loop is close to the bone. There is a rawness to the observations about race and sex that makes the writing and central performance from Kyle Ramar Freeman hugely impressive. As well as sounding fantastic while singing the complex, dense songs, Ramar Freeman’s acting is incredible. And the part is huge – he’s only offstage for the quickest of costume changes.

Kyle-Ramar-Freeman-in-A-Strange-Loop-credit-Marc-Brenner
Kyle Ramar Freeman

Usher is joined by his ’thoughts’ – six more performers are needed to do justice to the complexity of this character! But they are more than a great-sounding chorus for an internal dialogue, taking on the roles of imaginary characters and people in Usher’s life. And note, the ‘thoughts’ don’t just play Usher’s family – they play the stereotyped versions of them in Usher’s head. This can be confusing, so credit to director Stephen Brackett for making the show as clear as can be, but those layers are part of the point. Jackson is ruthless when it comes to stereotypes. The fact that A Strange Loop is very rude isn’t the only thing that makes it uncomfortable.

Thinking of complaining? There are some genuinely shocking lyrics and situations. So much so that the humour is a tough call at times. Does it all go too far (even some of the characters ask for it to stop)? But Jackson uses upsetting instances of homophobia and racism intelligently. Whatever criticism you think about the music or attitude – Jackson has it covered, not least in a brilliant scene where the ‘thoughts’ transform into the ‘Second Coming of Sondheim Society’ to criticise his work.

Jackson’s is a harsh look at gay and black culture, neither of which seem to offer Usher any kind of support. Lyrics are often sung to tunes whose jauntiness seems cruel, but the beef can’t be said to be superficial. The arguments, as well as the jokes, are detailed, flooding out from the script in a way that is astonishingly accomplished. Praise again to all the performers for managing so well – not a single number is easy to perform. Yes, Jackson is way ahead of us, but it seems that is a lonely place to be. A vein of sorrow, alongside anger, runs through the piece.

So how much of the show’s appeal comes from extremes? Aside from the fact that we seldom see characters like Usher represented on stage, the frankness with which issues are tackled is remarkable. A Strange Loop is a show you want to start again as soon as it has finished. But is that just because it is so complex? Time will tell. It’s hard to get over the surprise of hearing lyrics like “the second wave feminist in me is at war with the dick-sucking black gay man”, let alone finding yourself humming it on the way home.

Until 9 September 2023

www.barbican.org

Photos by Marc Brenner

2023

“42nd Street” at Sadler’s Wells

Here is a revival that is happy with its source material. First seen in 1980, based on the 1933 film, and using the hits of Harry Warren (with lyrics from Al Dubin and Johnny Mercer), 42nd Street has always been an exercise in nostalgia. That doesn’t make it better or worse than current productions such as Guys & Dolls or Oklahoma! ,which feature memorable innovations. The show is a comfortable one and hugely entertaining. You know what to expect and director Jonathan Church delivers.

The simple plot and corny jokes in Michael Stewart and Mark Bramble’s book are embraced. If it feels like you already know the story of ingénue Peggy Sawyer, catapulted to fame from her place in the chorus line, it’s still a giggle to watch. The performance here, from the hugely talented Nicole-Lily Baisden is superb. From audition, rehearsals and then taking the lead in the show within a show – Peggy’s is a triumph the whole audience gets behind.

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Nicole Lily Baisden

The backstage shenanigans, the imperious star Dorothy Brock (Ruthie Henshall) and tyrannical director Julian Marsh (Adam Garcia), are all three guilty pleasures. And there’s a lovely romance for Peggy – why wouldn’t there be? – with tenor Billy Lawlor (Sam Lips). The performances have a justified confidence. And, a personal favourite, there’s Josephina Gabrielle (as writer/producer Maggie Jones), who always manages to make a comic song that little bit funnier.

The songs are fantastic. It’s amazing how so many, written so long ago, are still recognised. The singing is, appropriately, old fashioned (the men often come close to crooning). Any opportunity to belt out a zinger is taken – as it should be. And the orchestra does it all proud. The show sounds great – fulsome and full of wit. There’s a lighthearted humour in the sound of the songs themselves that matches the silly goings-on.

Innovation does come, with the choreography from Bill Deamer and Rob Jones, which makes the show, originally from The Curve in Leicester, at home in Sadler’s Wells. The tap dancing is top notch. And alongside plenty of easy assurance, there are rigid movements that evoke exercise or even military precision. It’s a neat way to bring out the show’s preoccupation with effort behind the scenes. And a nice nudge that relaxed smiles belie huge effort – a good old-fashioned showbiz touch – to remind you that you really should applaud loudly.

Until 2July 2023

www.sadlerswells.com

Photo by Johan Persson