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“For King and Country” at the Southwark Playhouse

Dilated Theatre’s production of John Wilson’s 1964 play is timely in two ways. The story of a soldier on trial for desertion, it’s a thought-provoking commemoration of World War I during this anniversary year. And, since hindsight tells us many such cases were surely victims of PTSD, staging the play at a time when awareness of mental health is increasing means that a pretty standard court room drama provides input into a topical concern.

The play stages a conventional legal battle, but one that is well written and that director Paul Tomlinson does justice to, with some flashbacks of fighting to inject energy and well-used music. Extra tension comes as defence lawyer Lieutenant Hargreaves plays the “dangerous game” of defending Private Hamp, who left his post, although he has no explanation of why. Will the case save a life or set a precedent that will damage the Army and the war effort?

The lead roles make excellent showcases. Lloyd Everitt is the perfect English gent as the sensitive advocate with a stiff upper lip. And Adam Lawrence, who plays Hamp, carries off the tricky job of making him believable. There can’t be many people so incapable of lying. There’s a fine ensemble, each of whom Tomlinson gets solid work from, and just enough nuance for each character.

One thing that is different about the piece is the role of religion, with faith a questioning force for good that matches Hargreaves’ more secular viewpoint. Indeed, religion takes over, becoming a genuine moral compass that orientates the play. It’s a lot for Eugene Simon in the role of the Padre to shoulder, but he puts on an impressive show, adding plenty of emotion to the arguments and power to the text’s most original feature.

Until 21 July 2018

www.southwarkplayhouse.co.uk

Photo by Alex Brenner

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“Flesh and Bone” at the Soho Theatre

I’ve a soft spot for verse plays, so am predisposed to the “Shakespeare-inspired lyricism” in Elliot Warren’s piece about the poor in contemporary London. Such overt poeticising isn’t to all tastes, which makes it heartening to see audiences love the award-winning Flesh and Bone – making the piece literally exceptional.

Bluntly, Warren plays with syntax, adds choice quotes and puts in a lot of ‘eths. The language is blue, as well as purplish, and the invective needs to be more inventive. But you can tell the technique is well employed as it never gets tired. A gimmick? I guess. But the aim is to make us reconsider poverty and petty crime, class and gentrification, anew and the result is confrontational as well as entertaining.

Warren, with co-director and co-actor Olivia Brady (also credited with the story’s creation) have starred in a production of Steven Berkoff’s East and the influence is clear. Anthony Burgess springs to mind, with Warren’s character of Terrence reminiscent of a droog. And a scene of fighting with rats might have Philip Ridley as a source. All great stuff and well used.

You might want more plot, or at least more original story lines. Instead Flesh and Bone boasts strong monologues that have been shared out with equanimity… maybe to a fault. But all the cast members get a chance to shine.

Warren and Brady star as an onstage couple with terrific chemistry. Her role is the weakest written but the performance compensates. Similarly, strong turns from Michael Jinks and Nick T Frost, as family members, disguise that depth of character comes from skilful sleights of hand: the sex lives of both men shouldn’t really surprise us but, just in case, I won’t be a plot spoiler. The character of their neighbour Jamal is more interesting (his scene, entitled ‘Hellfire’, is one of many that makes this a script to buy) and Alessandro Babalola steals the show in the role, using his remarkable physicality and vocal skills to great effect. When the action itself isn’t original, Warren and Brady’s direction kicks in. There are few props and no scenery. Instead, the cast – working together brilliantly – shape the stage remarkably. This is first-class choreography.

Tackling the topic of inequality unfortunately results in political naivety. A sense of paranoia isn’t hard to spot. It pains me to write so contrary to the author’s intentions, but the characters are cast as victims. And yet, while the aim of giving voice to a class often denied one isn’t overwhelmingly successful, the attempt is more than laudable. These voices are alive, lusty and exciting… as well as thought-provoking. And the result is a show that’s a five star treat.

Until 21 July 2018

www.sohotheatre.com

Photo by Owen Baker

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“A Midsummer Night’s Dream” at Wilton’s Music Hall

The Faction theatre company wastes no time with its new production of Shakespeare’s romantic comedy. Tamarin McGinley’s brilliant Hippolyta is imprisoned in a ring created by her fellow cast members and snarls at her soon-to-be husband Theseus – he wooed with his sword, after all! The startling depiction of their relationship shows a skill at interpreting the text. And the method of using the actors’ bodies rather than props as a cage shows off a signature physical style. Setting out its stall from the get go, this production excites from the very beginning.

Christopher Hughes as Bottom
Christopher Hughes as Bottom

Director Mark Leipacher is well aware that the course of true love isn’t supposed to run smooth and injects a tension into the romantic turmoil of the play. When it comes to the Athenian workmen, preparing a play of their own for the nuptial celebrations, the company does just as well with the play’s comedy. Led by Christopher Hughes as Bottom, in blissfully funny thespian form, the transformation into an ass has the cast taking turns as his ears and tail. It’s surprisingly effective and shockingly… sexy. Again, there is an attention to the text that shows an underlying intelligence: this is the first time I’ve been interested in the scene when Bottom is introduced to his fairy attendants.

Physicality is pushed to an extreme at times: the four Athenian lovers, interfered with by magic, end up wrestling one another in the woods – it’s brilliantly done, but you do lose some lines. And with only eight in the cast, the normal doubling of roles becomes a tripling and leads to a truncated finale that loses the witty commentary from those usually watching the show (since the same actors are performing it). But it’s a thrill to see every role embraced by each performer, especially Christopher York, who gets full comic potential out of a trio of parts.

It should be pointed out that a knowledge of the play helps, especially when it comes to the scene changes, crafted using sound and light by Ben Jacobs and Yaiza Varona, respectively – they are beautiful, but might not aid comprehension enough. But the production is full of rewards, with Richard James Neale’s direction of movement continually fascinating and Leipacher’s engagement with the text consistently intelligent. Combined, this is a winning offer and I think it’s magic.

Until 30 June 2018

www.wiltons.org.uk

Photo by The Other Richard

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“The Tempest” at St Paul’s Church, Covent Garden

Congratulations to Iris Theatre, which celebrates ten years of its summer season at ‘The Actors’ Church’. For 2018 its family show, The Three Musketeers, starts on 2 August, while its annual Shakespeare offering is the story of Prospero wielding his magical powers to reclaim his usurped Dukedom. The production shows the company’s strengths: accessible, solidly crafted, engaging shows that fully exploit this venue’s charms.

It is laudable that a decade on director Daniel Winder still wants a challenge: The Tempest is a tricky text with a lot of ink spilt over it. The play’s oddities aren’t shied away from here; programme notes suggest it’s a response by Shakespeare to court masques, those peculiar entertainments designed by Inigo Jones, who also built St Paul’s. But what seems serendipitous on paper isn’t elevated on to the stage: the masque within the play, performed inside the magnificent church, is too far from the “majestic vision” described.

There are other problems, too. Anna Sances’ costume designs are intelligent but need more budget in execution. Candida Caldicot’s musical compositions are good, the cast’s vocals superb, but background music (and noises) are an odd, sometimes overpowering, mix.
Flashy touches thankfully don’t detract from the production’s strong base. Winder knows what he is doing and gets a huge amount from his small cast. There are only seven performers here – acting their hearts out – and, if there are mixed results a lot of the blame rests with the comedy. There’s a sound effort made by Paul Brendan and Reginald Edwards in the roles of drunken Trinculo and Stephano, but I’ve never seen the scenes get that many laughs. There is strong work from Prince Plockey as Caliban and a particularly impressive Antonio.

Underpinning the show is a classy performance from Jamie Newall as Prospero, who is a joy to hear. But the evening belongs to Charlotte Christensen as Ariel. With her total commitment to the role, alongside a stunning singing voice, Christensen brings out a sense of wonder and sensitive confusion. There is a quality of fragility and questioning, as well as power that is lacking in the rest of the production. Nonetheless, while Winder’s ambition doesn’t always pay off, his confident show safely pulls through.

Until 28 July 2018

www.iristheatre.com

Photo by Nick Rutter

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“Lonely Planet” at the Trafalgar Studios

Steven Dietz’s 1993 play is a moving story of the AIDS crisis that works hard to provide an original perspective into the tragedy. It’s a quiet two-hander, understated to a fault, which focuses on friends rather than lovers, with a strong poetic vein that makes it elegiac and thoughtful.

Carl and Jody use make believe to protect themselves from the world outside the map shop that the play is wholly set in. Carl pretends he has the jobs of friends who have died while he mysteriously collects old chairs. Jody lies about having an HIV test. Both men use fantasy entirely transparently so, when truths escape, they have a haunting quality.

There’s whimsy in Dietz’s script that increases its novelty. Inspiration for the humour is credited to Eugène Ionesco (he wrote Les Chaises, read by both characters) and another similarity comes with an aversion to exposition. Both are factors that can excite but also create frustrations – if you come to the play cold it would take a while to work out what is going on. But Ian Brown’s direction appreciates the show’s delicate tone: his sympathetic approach and control increasing its credibility.

Dietz’s dialogue is nimble. There are plenty of ear-catching moments such as Carl’s “3am thoughts” or his questioning “the worth of me”. But the metaphors are uncomfortable: those chairs again I am afraid, each taken from the house clearance of a departed friend. And Jody’s ruminations on maps, with cartographers deciding on “acceptable distortions”. It’s all far too heavy handed.

Thankfully, the characters prove a saving grace for Lonely Planet. Reprising roles from the production’s première at the Tabard Theatre last year, Alexander McMorran plays Jody and Aaron Vodovoz is Carl. The performers’ close studies do the roles justice, propelling the script through some shaky moments. Just as their relationship is intriguing, both men are personalities you warm to and would like to know better. These are gay men who are proud, if not loud, and given authentic voices with interesting things to say.

Until 7 July 2018

www.atgtickets.com

Photo by Richard Hubert Smith

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“Consent” at the Harold Pinter Theatre

Nina Raine’s play, a hit transfer from the National Theatre, is exciting new writing. The crafted yet uncontrived piece illustrates how much a talented author can juggle, and Consent is a play full of seemingly contradictory qualities that combine into great theatre.

The plot is a too-simple story of infidelities – a pretty tried and tired topic – as a group of friends, mostly lawyers, make a mess of their marriages. But their motivations, and how their lives change, give the story complexity. It’s essentially a talking heads piece, set around drinks parties and a courtroom drama, but it bristles with an unnerving dynamism.

The theatricality of the law is a blunt point, frequently made, but Raine treats it with finesse. Are the characters’ careers a toxic pollutant of their private lives? Or are the successful barristers closer to their clients than they – or we – would like to think? Raine challenges her – let’s face it – middle-class audience in a sophisticated fashion, laying bare some pretty tawdry emotions with sophistication.

The play couldn’t be more topical. The discussions around consensual sex are only a part of it: the work-life balance of these high flyers is in the news, including their drug abuse, while the obsession with property – and sofas – is tiresomely recognisable. Opposed to this, the battles between the sexes and the classes that Raine highlights makes a claim to be universal: Greek theatre is in the background and makes a fascinating parallel to her work.

Consent is a think piece, cerebral to a fault, with discussions about justice, guilt, repentance and atonement. Yet the play is as emotionally intense as you could wish, with broken hearts all around and characters driven to crazed revenge.

As you might expect with so many abstract ideas, this is serious stuff. But (another contradiction) the play is full of great laughs. Not just dark humour, either – some of the jokes are surprisingly childish and it’s a shock to hear laughs so close to such dark subject matter.

Heather Craney and Stephen Campbell Moore 

The strong material is meat and drink to the talented cast. Stephen Campbell Moore and and Claudie Blakley are superb as the leading couple Edward and Kitty. There’s strong support from Adam James and Sian Clifford as their friends, while Heather Craney takes two roles with equal assurance. A final accolade goes to director Roger Michell, who tackles Raine’s superb text with such assurance. He’s bold enough to bring out all the tension and subtle enough to show each complexity.

Until 11 August 2018

www.nationaltheatre.org.uk

Photo by Johan Persson

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“The Secret Lives of Baba Segi’s Wives” at the Arcola Theatre

This theatrical trip to Nigeria, via Dalston, comes courtesy of Rotimi Babatunde’s adaptation of Lola Shoneyin’s prize-winning novel. It’s the story of Bolanle, played with precision by Marcy Dolapo Oni, who becomes the titular patriarch’s fourth spouse and inadvertently exposes a conspiracy that has shaped many lives. The story is dramatic but proves surprisingly funny, with a frank sense of humour that makes the show stand out.

Bolale’s “fellow inmates” in Baba Segei’s house are a terrific – in many senses of the word – trio. Taking seniority, there’s an unforgettable performance from Jumoké Fashola as the formidable first wife. Joined by Christine Oshunniyi and Layo-Christina Akinlude, all three define their characters with clarity and make the most of powerful monologues that deserve close study. Doubling roles, they join an ensemble that spoils the audience for talent, including a scene-stealing performance from Diana Yekinni.

Not only do the performers transport us to a very different world – they also sound great. As well as driving the plot with forceful direction, Femi Elufowoju Jr is the production’s musical director, and he infuses the show with sound. I’ve no knowledge of African music but it’s wonderful to hear emotion on stage mirrored with such dramatic efficacy.

But what of Baba Segi himself? The play revolves around him and provides a tremendous role for the appropriately charismatic Patrice Naiambana. A polygamist who is offered wives by desperate families and who values women on whether or not they can provide him with children is not instantly appealing. Using the audience’s incredulity about the character’s ignorance gets some great laughs. And the way he is manipulated by women becomes a source of satisfaction. In my own ignorance of African theatre, one reference point is Restoration Comedy – this show is every bit as funny as the best of them. But there is a more serious approach to character here and, underneath the jokes at his expense, Naiambana still makes you care for the man. As Bolanle says, you may not miss Baba Segi himself when you leave, but you won’t forget him and you will remember this play with fondness.

Until 21 July 2018

www.arcolatheatre.com

Photo by Idil Sukan

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“Flutter” at the Soho Theatre

Unlike plenty of pastimes, arguably including going to the theatre, gambling appeals to all ages and social groups. So a high-street betting shop has great potential as a location for drama, which Justin Hopper’s play utilises fully, if without sufficient focus. Flutter does, inevitably, deal with the topic of compulsive gambling. But its strength lies in showing a cross-section of society drawn to an unusual kind of community centre – which might make you think twice when you walk past a Ladbrokes again.

The play is predictable. Even big twists can be seen coming a long way off. There’s an interesting theme trying to get out, with several characters stuck in habits and in thrall to tradition, while betting on what might happen in the future frightens them. Rather than exploring this, Hopper develops a pedestrian drama, albeit one full of events and comedy. Flutter never quite runs smoothly enough and, regrettably, Gavin Dent’s direction doesn’t make the going any fairer, with fits and starts that are awkward.

Hopper’s crafting of characters is good, though. And Dent has produced strong work from his cast. Nicken Kotak and Abby Cassidy do well as young lovers with a storyline that’s too compressed. Shango Baku captivates as elderly regular Yankee Bob, while Richie Donaldson and Greg Snowden both play troubled characters with winning style. The storylines aren’t well developed but the characters themselves convince. Leading the way, with a modest tale of mature love, are Antonia Kemi Coker as the shop’s manager, and Mark Keegan as her most loyal punter, Dennis. Theirs is a long-standing affection waiting to blossom – admittedly sentimental but believable and moving. With them, the play’s qualities – likeable personalities and effective performances – coalesce, making it odds on you will enjoy the show.

Until 16 June 2018

www.sohotheatre.com

Photo by JMK Productions

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“I am of Ireland” at the Old Red Lion Theatre

State of the nation plays have their admirers but the aims of large narratives and big claims can backfire horribly. Seamus Finnegan’s new play, presenting a history of the troubles in Northern Ireland alongside contemporary politics in the Republic, falls victim to its ambitions on both counts. The collection of brief vignettes are unsatisfying in isolation and fail to cohere into a big picture.

Amongst many plots mangled we meet old friends at a funeral, a family coming to terms with their daughter’s vocation as a nun and a priest stabbed in a racist attack. All rammed together in a breathless effort to examine history, sectarianism, the church and immigration. Arguably any of these stories could be developed, but each contains improbabilities, most notably a former terrorist surprised by the amnesty in the peace process.

It’s a shame the brief scenes deny the cast the chance to shine. In particular the hard work of Shenagh Govan, entering and exiting at speed, is wasted. Angus Castle-Doughty and Richard Fish do well playing various psychopaths and Euan Macnaughton struggles valiantly recounting a life as a terrorist. But these are brief moments not worth the wait. All the performers take on many roles but rather than impress, several casting decisions come across as desperate (if Jerome Ngonadi as a Mother Superior was supposed to be a joke I am afraid nobody was laughing).

Ken McClymont’s direction does nothing to aid the play. Adding songs and constantly moving around chairs between scenes becomes interminable. And some cheap costumes don’t help either. A final problem is Finnegan’s dialogue: full of facts characters must know and downright nonsense, Finnegan can’t even reveal a location without being florid. The vocabulary is unconvincing – someone uses the word harlot sincerely. When all else fails, a character is made to scream. The subject of Ireland and religion should be a fruitful one for a playwright but this is theatrical purgatory.

Until 30 June 2018

www.oldredliontheatre.co.uk

Photo by Michael Robinson

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“The Unbuilt City” at the King’s Head Theatre

This is a disappointing play from the talented American writer Keith Bunin, who so impressed last year with The Busy World Is Hushed at the Finborough Theatre. The Unbuilt Cityis a two-hander featuring an academic trying to acquire the archive of an aged philanthropist. The plot is too low-stakes to engage, the characters too predictable to excite and, although the play has plenty of ideas, none is sufficiently explored.

The scenario has echoes of Henry James’ The Aspen Papers. And, like James’ novella, this is a cerebral affair. The archives treasure consists of a plan for a utopian New York. The poetic potential of such idealism is interesting, and the excitement about the famous ‘paper architect’ of the plan is conveyed effectively. Along the way, we ruminate on inequality, history and memory, with some lyrical moments and a strong sense of what it’s like to love a city. But the play gets bogged down in its fireside wisdom, displaying a sentimental streak that’s lazy and results in platitudes.

Many faults could be excused if the characters convinced. While I found the dialogue credible for such an erudite couple, their rapport is minimal and poorly developed. Jonathan Chambers plays struggling writer Jonah with his heart on his sleeve, robbing us of what little tension is written for the role. Sandra Dickinson has a more interesting part as the heiress Claudia and there are moments when she is moving. She seems severely hampered by her costume, which could be easily remedied. More seriously, the character is again played as too likeable, so her reminiscing seems sweet and something to indulge rather than consider seriously.

It’s hard to believe Claudia wants, let alone needs, to be “three or four steps ahead” of Jonah in negotiations over her estate. Bunin calls a ceasefire before a battle of wills even begins. Director Glen Walford aims to remedy the play’s static quality, understandably, but her efforts fail. The delivery is rushed in an effort to generate energy and the cast roams about the cramped stage inexplicably. It all makes for an uncomfortable production of a floundering script.

Until 30 June 2018

www.kingsheadtheatre.com

Photo by PND Photography