2019

“Circa” at the Old Red Lion Theatre

As this is his first full-length play, it’s tempting to assume that Tom Ratcliffe is a young man. Regardless, his writing contains prodigious insight. There are so many intelligent observations in Circa that it might be thought of as a wise play, one that stays with you and makes you think. Following one man at three different life stages to explore the theme of loneliness, Ratcliffe seems capable of writing for any age, with dialogue that is consistently strong and often funny. Issues that could have hashtags and heavy debates about heteronormativity are delivered with ease. The neat conceit of covering three decades in its protagonist’s life is ultimately mishandled, and the play ends terribly but, with the aid of director Andrew Twyman, Circa is a particularly impressive failure.

As a young man, our hero encounters sexual violence. In his 30s he tries to settle down, no matter what the compromise. Then in later life he ends up dating online. All this is sensitively performed by Daniel Abelson, Thomas Flynn and Antony Gabriel. And they are ably supported by Joseph Rowe as two very different love interests. Twyman’s efforts to provide space for all this are admirable but there are too many issues touched on too quickly. While the play isn’t without surprises (which includes a fantastic role for the excellent Jenna Fincken), the tone is too insistently melancholic.

The biggest problem is also Ratcliffe’s boldest move – to take us strangely out of time and focus on characters. The isolated emphasis on emotional motivation in the play is sharp, but other considerations are too stripped back. It leads to confusion and a disappointingly hollow feel as a whole. There’s little background for our hero, more but not much for some of his sexual encounters. For all the time we spend with the guy, and the three performer’s efforts to make him appealing, the poor fellow doesn’t even get a name. It’s an interesting point of contrast – many plays with gay characters take obsessive care over the community’s history while here the past seems deliberately avoided. It makes Circa novel but, as the title indicates, it also makes positioning the play in time a frustrating, distracting difficulty. Ratcliffe could argue that it is not his focus – fair enough – but he contradicts himself; with a final scene set in the future in which the piece crashes to a conclusion. The idea that the problem of loneliness is getting (inevitably?) worse is sprung on us with surprising ineptitude. A piece that felt so personal flares out pointlessly and ends up insubstantial. It’s a shock when so much else about the play is admirable.

Until 30 March 2019

www.oldredliontheatre.co.uk

Photo by Lidia Crisafulli.

2019

“The Phlebotomist” at the Hampstead Theatre

There is a great excitement around playwright Ella Road and her first impressive play. After a sell-out premiere last year and a transfer from the venue’s studio space into the main house – with an Olivier nomination under its belt – congratulations are in order. Road’s ear for dialogue is sure and the production strong. It’s a shame that control of the subject matter is lost in this sci-fi romance. Ultimately, the genre ends up manipulating the writer, rather than the other way around.

The scenario is that a system of genetic ratings based on blood tests changes our not-too-distant future. Road has no shortage of ideas, and a series of films crowds the show with news reports or fake adverts. But none of this is particularly novel or hard to foresee, so the play as a whole becomes predictable. While the testing is initially to assist in healthcare, its application in jobs, dating and then eugenics appears quickly. Each could be the focus of a play in its own right but, crammed together, the topics feel thinly explored. There are too many questions and some silly inconsistencies, while tacking on environmental concerns doesn’t help either. There’s a reason sci-fi has so much detail – without the geeky touches, the future world we find ourselves in fails to convince.

Road escalates outrage at a steady rate but with little change of pace in the structure of her scenes, so the show feels slow. By the time we’ve got the legalisation of “post-natal abortion”, attempts to challenge the audience feel more than desperate – they are naïve. Tasteless or provocative? That might depend on your view of human nature. But it seems fair to suggest it’s a dramatic own goal to curtail a plot about the fight again “rateism” so quickly. Only one figure (and a couple of news snippets) attempts to challenge this nightmarish system. A subplot about dealing in blood is carefully contained as a matter of financial corruption. The characters are worryingly lacking in morality or even agency.

For all the problems with the plot, the production is good. Road benefits from ambitious direction from Sam Yates and a superb cast that laps up her well-written lines. Mark Lambert makes for an intriguing impartial observer in his role as a hospital porter. Kiza Deen does sterling work as a protestor who develops Hodgkin disease during the course of the play. The Phlebotomist is essentially a love story between Angus – played by Rory Fleck Byrne, who reveals his character marvellously – and Bea. She holds the occupation that gives the play its title, and the role shows Road’s strengths. A brilliant performance from Jade Anouka – who demands both our sympathy and revulsion – makes her the highlight of the night.

Until 20 April 2019

www.hampsteadtheatre.com

Photo by Marc Brenner

2019

“The Rubenstein Kiss” at the Southwark Playhouse

Inspired by the case of Ethel and Julius Rosenberg, who were executed for treason in 1953, James Phillips’ play about politics and betrayal is a weighty drama. Creating a fictional parallel to real life events focuses the themes of individual responsibility and ideology. Setting the action over three decades allows an extrapolation on the legacy of events. This new production from director Joe Harmston makes the most of viewing two generations – the traitors and their children – resulting in a strong revival of a rich and complex play.

Harmston’s direction is luxurious. It feels as if equal time is given to the three couples: Jakob and Esther Rubenstein, her brother David and his wife Rachel and also their heirs, Matthew and Anna. The stories mingle effectively. Harmston might make a little too much fuss over scene changes and his traverse staging add less than desired but the issues of loyalty and hope are clear, while justice is done to a text full of argument and emotion. Best of all, Harmston has secured tremendous performances from his cast.

Ruby Bentall and Henry Proffit play the lead couple and inject an impressive energy into their political discussions. Sean Rigby takes the part of Esther’s brother and betrayer. Rigby develops his role well as the character becomes “haunted” by unwanted fame and he is ably supported by Eva-Jane Willis as Rachel who is consistently superb. The four are convincing as a family unit and the love each couple have for one another is utterly compelling. It’s a bit of a puzzle why the younger roles end up in a sexual relationship as well, surely an unnecessary complication? Nonetheless, Katie Eldred saves her weaker written character of Anna, whose suicide attempt is poorly handled by Phillips. And Dario Coates is excellent as Matthew, the impassioned son of the Rubensteins, who decides to fight to clear the family name.

Dario Coates (Matthew) & Katie Eldred (Anna)

The influence of Arthur Miller and his McCarthy inspired 1953 drama The Crucible lies heavy on the text – it is explicitly referenced and cerebrally employed. Proffit makes Jakob a powerful surrogate for Miller’s hero John Proctor. Stephen Billington’s FBI Agent, who interrogates and then tries to save Jakob and Esther, is an efficient take on the previous play’s Reverend Hale and points us towards interesting questions. The fanatics vision is brought into focus; Bantall’s eyes as she faces her martyrdom in the electric chair are mesmerising. Phillips appreciates that the “gift of empathy”, discussed as an inspiration that can cross generations, is also a danger and can be poisonous. The Rubenstein Kiss provides salutary insight reached through care and intelligence.

Until 13 April 2019

www.southwarkplayhouse.co.uk

Photos by Scott Rylander

2019

“Alys, Always” at the Bridge Theatre

Harriet Lane’s novel about an unassuming sub-editor called Frances, whose life becomes entangled with a famous author after a car accident, is a quality page turner. Bringing the story to the stage, Lucinda Coxon retains its strong plot and much of the book’s flavour: an air of Daphne du Maurier with a Ripleyesque lead make for a sturdy combination. There’s a stumble over the humour in the piece – Lane has a wry eye that Coxon has blurred – but the show is never less than entertaining.

With a strong cast, including Robert Glenister as the writer Laurence and Joanna David as his agent, there’s insight into London’s literati. But too many stabs at the middle classes become a problem in the role of Polly, Alys’ daughter. This spoilt rich girl is too broadly painted and easy to laugh at – a shame as Leah Gayer, who makes her professional debut in the part, clearly has the ability to make the character more sympathetic. Instead there’s less tension surrounding Frances manipulating the younger woman than there should be.

Even worse, too many jokes set in Frances’ workplace show the parallel plot of her blossoming career being mishandled by Coxon. In place of presenting another side to our heroine’s burgeoning ambition, we get a checklist of woes about the modern media that are both too familiar and unconvincing. Again, the gags have the detrimental effect of making many roles too slight. Frances’ editor and rival colleague Oliver see Sylvestra Le Touzel and Simon Manyonda struggling to fill out their parts.

Thankfully Alys, Always is more drama than comedy. And director Nicholas Hytner has always been good with suspense. He knows how to pace a text and place a body so that a glance between characters crackles with tension. There’s little overt confrontation, but its potential bubbles under in many scenes (Sam Woolf as Alys’ son is especially good). And there’s an impressive eye on the intricacies of class, revealing aspirations that become the catalysts for Alice’s actions. Bob Crowley’s set may be minimal but, along with Christina Cunningham’s costumes and Luke Halls’ video design, the details are precisely focused.

Frances, the unfairly ignored central figure, is key to the novel, which she narrates, and she fits comfortably on the stage thanks to a fine performance from Joanne Froggatt. Ever the underdog, sympathy is won quickly but, as this good Samaritan becomes a sinister gold digger, Froggatt still keeps us on side. From lies that might have a noble motivation, through to tasteless if harmless kleptomania for “talismans”, a combination of worry and repulsion surrounds her. The plots and emotional manipulation intrigue and excite. Even when Frances becomes ruthless, there’s the thrill that her plans might work and a quiet cheer for this special heroine.

Until 30 March 2019

www.bridgetheatre.co.uk

Photo by Helen Maybanks

2019

“Come from Away” at the Phoenix Theatre

Good news stories are few and far between, so any positive coverage from the tragedy of the terrorist attacks on 9/11 is all the more precious. Recounting the generosity of the people of Gander in Newfoundland to those stranded when flights were diverted on that dreadful day becomes a testament to the better part of human nature – making this musical from Irene Sankoff and David Hein truly inspiring.

One of many winning elements here is the strong sense of place created for the island called ‘The Rock’ that the audience, like the stranded passengers, find themselves visiting. Careful research and the Celtic-inspired music, performed superbly, make the location convincing without even a set. Firmly rooted in the chaos of events and ensuing emotions, the score perfectly reflects the drama and diverse reactions to it.

Depicting residents and visitors are a cast of just 12, although it’s hard to believe at times. Transformations are achieved with simple costumes and brilliant acting. Come from Away is a true ensemble piece – another big tick – very much to the credit of director Christopher Ashley, whose attention to detail is clear at every moment. The story is led, slightly, by Clive Carter, who plays the town’s mayor with affable energy, and Rachel Tucker, who plays a pilot and gets the most rousing solo, delivered with incredible passion. Among the many stories, two couples anchor the show with relationships beginning and ending, making meaty roles for Jonathan Andrew Hume, David Shannon, Robert Hands and Helen Hobson.

Rachel Tucker

If Sankoff and Hein’s lyrics are at times prosaic, and the humour a little broad, the book is outstanding. Injecting tension into a story that’s literally about people stuck somewhere is a remarkable achievement. The sheer range of issues tackled in the show is prodigious, coming as close as possible to do doing justice to the big events of that day, while never losing focus on a small world full of intimate stories. Realism is the key, and the show never shies away from less than noble fears and prejudices – there’s more than one confrontational moment in the chaos and confusion of events. Racism and religion are deftly handled, and a number unifying the different faiths among the passengers is a real triumph.

Life-changing repercussions from the terrorist acts, and the extended stay while air space remained closed, are explored in depth. But it is a question of balance that makes the show special. Of course you expect an episode of painful grief. This comes with the case of a mother who has lost her son (a role Cat Simmons excels in), where the candid and respectful handling of the story is impressive. But there’s also the figure of a young man who finds himself more at home away from home. Nathanael Campbell holds his own in this far less dramatic role, and its intriguing inclusion shows the scope of the impact of events with quiet intelligence. Focusing on ordinary stories and regular people is the key, and it’s all perfectly pitched to emphasise each story’s power and importance.

Until September 2019

www.comefromawaylondon.co.uk

Photos by Matthew Murphy

2019

“The Twilight Zone” at the Ambassadors Theatre

Bringing an iconic TV series to the stage must be a daunting project. Rod Serling’s show ran from 1959 to 1964, a third revival will air on American TV later this year, and cult status has to be a factor. Taking the stories seriously alongside their kitsch attraction is a balancing act. But acclaimed playwright Anne Washburn, who has previously used The Simpsons as inspiration, approaches the project cleverly, with a campy air that makes her script often funny and consistently enjoyable.

The production is in the capable hands of director Richard Jones, who adds further wry touches that complement a period feel and gets the most out of running jokes about cigarettes and the moralistic narration that signed off each TV episode. Along with Paul Steinberg’s star-splattered set design, with a crew of stagehands dressed to almost but not quite blend in, this is a stylish affair that keeps eyes peeled and deserves its transfer from the Almeida Theatre.

There are eight stories performed by ten actors. Jones ensures they are a disciplined team and there’s a great deal of fun in spotting the swiftest changes (I think Nicholas Karimi gets the prize for that) and most dramatic transformations (I’ll go for Oliver Alvin-Wilson). Meanwhile, Adrianna Bertola stands out playing a series of younger characters very well and Natasha J Barnes gets to use plenty of her skills, including a great singing voice, in roles that might be the most varied.

Washburn’s big moves are to interweave the tales and try to make them various. If the focus is on missing people and space, with Cold War preoccupations and aliens aplenty, then at least the tone alters. The fruition of a story about an imminent nuclear attack gets very serious, very quickly (Barnes is excellent here), while an astronaut’s return from a 50-year mission is made surprisingly moving by Alisha Bailey.

A meta-theatrical epilogue, which praises the audience’s “can-do” approach for using our imagination to make so many fantastic situations work, is sweet if a touch predictable. Which takes us to a big problem. Even if you don’t know the stories here exactly, the scenarios are the stuff of urban mythology and staples of pop culture. That’s what interests Washburn. It can be reassuring to see them again (reruns have an appeal), but there’s a lack of tension and suspense in the show, and therefore a limit to how creepy it can get. In short, it can’t surprise. This is a strong production full of smart touches but, for all the effort and talent, these spacey trips into other dimensions aren’t going to rock anybody’s world.

Until 1 June 2019

www.TwilightZoneThePlay.com

Photo by Marc Brenner

2019

“Waitress” at the Adelphi Theatre

Let the cooking puns commence: Sarah Bareilles’ Broadway hit has arrived in London. An appetite for the show is easy to understand – it has charm and a great leading lady. The story is an everyday tale from a female perspective with surprisingly gritty touches: a welcome change for such a crowd-pleasing, mainstream project. It’s essentially a show about motherhood, which makes it hard to knock and easy to be moved by. Nonetheless, Waitress is not to all tastes.

Despite efforts at realism showing life’s sour side, the show is (sorry) too sweet. Its ‘Queen of Kindness’ heroine Jenna fails to convince, despite Katharine McPhee’s efforts. Meanwhile her salt-of-the-earth friends, played by Marisha Wallace and Laura Baldwin, who sound fantastic, are sketchy characters. All these lives revolve around men – at least, until Jenna has a baby – and you don’t have to be much of a feminist to think that’s not good enough for 2019. Still, the trio are heart-warming, the performances winning, and the book from Jessie Nelson has a nice grasp on an early midlife crisis, alongside an interesting take on American ideals. In short, it’s not devoid of ideas.

The songs are good from the start and get better throughout. There’s an excellent main refrain and a stand-out number. A strong country music feel, with a touch of the musical Once, the score is by far the best thing about the show. And the delivery is superb. McPhee is visiting from the States and has real star quality. How much she overshadows everything else is a tricky issue – Jenna is a massive role and, ultimately to the show’s detriment, all the other characters feel insignificant. The humour is terrible: adolescent nudges at sex, a sassy African-American and couple of geeks are very dated. Diane Paulus’ direction is efficient and brisk but cannot gloss over the bad jokes.

A selection of dire roles for men makes you wonder if a point is being made about the poor parts women have had to suffer in the past. And none of the men performing helps give any role depth. There’s the odious husband who takes Jenna’s cash and demands she love him more than her unborn child, and the gynaecologist she has an affair with (in his consulting room… eek) and who loves her for her “sad eyes” – if your mother didn’t warn you about men who say that, let me take the opportunity to do so now. It’s no wonder this lot can be done away with so quickly, the question is why Jenna bothered with them in the first place. And that’s without adding the character sketches for her friends’ partners, who are also awful. Concluding with the owner of the diner Jenna works in, who ends up as her fairy godfather (sigh), the show’s wish- fulfilment ends up more than just silly. Jenna gets on in the world not through her cooking skills but by being the owner’s friend. Contrary to all intentions, we end up with a dumb waitress.

Until 19 October 2019

https://waitressthemusical.co.uk

Photo by Johan Persson

2019

“Feed” at the Vault Festival

If you like things a bit mad, then Theatre Témoin’s show is for you. Occasionally entertaining, sometimes funny, deliberately provocative and childishly offensive, this is a chaotic affair. And that’s not necessarily a negative. Feed is a mess, but you can understand why. You see, it’s about the internet.

There are two central stories that show promise: a well-intentioned but nonetheless fake news report that goes viral and a teen vlogger driven to insanity by her virtue signalling. It’s tempting to speculate that the work of contributing playwrights Eve Leigh and Erin Judge can be spotted here. But neither tale is explored enough, which is frustrating. The ‘devising cast’ – Louise Lee, Esmee Marsh, Jonathan Peck and Yasmine Yagchi – have elaborated too much around the stories and director Ailin Conant seems to have done little to restrain them.

As the journalist Kate sees her work go viral because of a photo she stole from her girlfriend, and Mia’s blog moves from being about beauty to martyrdom, we are bombarded with the ridiculous. Then some geese turn up for a subplot about foie gras. Again, it could be argued that the chaos comes from a close study of the subject matter. The commitment and the energy are unflagging. Unfortunately, there are too many problems on top of too much content.

Ambition outstrips ability frequently. The imagery of cannibalism and coprophagy is vivid but poorly delivered. The set is clumsy. Interaction with the audience is poor. A central motif with performers ‘rewinding’, as if on video, and then repeating their actions with a tweaked word or gesture, seems nonsensical – why refer back to an old technology? And mock adverts inserted into scenes make for distracting and cheap comedy. A lot of this is easily solved, but there are bigger issues. A sinister SEO guru who bridges both stories is too comforting a fantasy; the idea of a controlling force behind internet success, someone that we can blame, is a fiction for conspiracy theorists. And the AI spoken of as having “no morals, no ethics, no monitoring” – yet another topic abandoned – is too much of a cop out.

For all its faults, Feed has a confrontationality that is bracing. It treads the line of accusing its audience with some self-deprecation. Ultimately, of course, it’s all of us who sustain the web. Asking us to look away or share some popcorn with them as events climax shows a sense of the theatrical as well as human insight. And there are intentionally uncomfortable moments when it’s clear nobody is afraid of challenging anyone – and that, at least, is a welcome addition to the theatrical menu.

Until 10 March 2019

www.vaultfestival.com

2019

“A Lesson from Aloes” at the Finborough Theatre

Janet Suzman’s revival of South African master-playwright Athol Fugard’s 1978 play is a masterclass in direction. There’s plenty to learn from this play about political activists suffering under the Apartheid regime, while Suzman’s sure hand is theatrically educative. And, although enjoyment can’t be said to be an aim of the piece, the performances prove gratifying despite the bleak content.

Dawid Minnaar and Janine Ulfane play a devoted couple, Piet and Gladys, whose lives have been traumatised by a visit from the security forces. Minnaar makes Piet a noble figure, possibly to a fault, and skilfully carries us through a deal of poetry quoting, potted personal history and philosophising on plants that might have dragged in lesser hands. Ulfane’s role as the prim and proper wife who has suffered a breakdown is more interesting. Intense from the start, Gladys’s anxiety only lets up when she shows a shockingly vicious streak. The character’s fragility weighs heavily on the play – it comes close to exhausting – but Suzman and Ulfane refuse to back down.

Most of the play is spent waiting for the arrival of Piet’s friend and political comrade, Steve. Suzman’s pacing is superb; that the couple are “flattering time with too much attention” is palpable yet the momentum is swift. Steve’s arrival, after the show’s interval, brings further energy and another strong performance, this time from David Rubin. The news of his approaching exile to the UK and the spectre of a police informer who played a part in his imprisonment provide further dynamics to puzzle over, while Rubin generates care for his character with remarkable speed.

A Lesson from Aloes is a play of ideas and emotions that may prove too static for some tastes. But, for a precise look at people under pressure, and a detailed insight into history, it is admirable. Fugard’s control of theme and plot are matched flawlessly by Suzman. And ideas about home, hope and hell, all of which can teach us much, are presented to perfection.

Until 23 March 2019

www.finboroughtheatre.co.uk

Photo by Alixandra Fazzina

2019

“Equus” at the Theatre Royal Stratford East

The last London outing of Peter Shaffer’s 1973 play boasted exciting star casting. But even the presence of Daniel Radcliffe, who did a great job playing the stable hand Alan who blinds the horses in his care, didn’t quite distract from the dated manner of this psychodrama. Equus can be a laboured whydunit, as the aloof Dr Dysart lags behind the audience in reconstructing events and struggles to provide an explanation for an all-too-symbolic outrage.

In this new production, director Ned Bennett gallops over many flaws, adding a physicality that balances the theorising monologues. Meanwhile, the lighting and sound design, from Jessica Hung Han Yun and Giles Thomas respectively, add psychedelic flashes of light and bursts of sound to great effect. With a strong cast, dashing on and off stage with unnerving speed, the piece is served superbly – this is one of the best revivals you’ll see in a long time.

The play’s problems are still there, of course. A contemporary audience is probably too used to tracing trauma – and too familiar with psychobabble – to find such a quest revelatory. But Bennett manages to make it exciting. The clever move is to focus on the doctor, played superbly by Zubin Varla, as much as the patient, and to make the philhellenic clinician’s dissatisfaction with his own life a source of questions. With increasing distress, Dysart sees his treatment will deprive Alan of a life-enhancing passion – the key word is worship – which is a challenging proposition, given Alan’s actions. Varla provides convincing fervour, and plumbing Shaffer’s text to bring out the theme works well.

The production flirts with a period setting, sometimes to its detriment. Georgia Lowe’s minimal design of clinical curtains is used to great effect, but the costumes, as a nod to the 1970s, are confusing. And too little is done about the female roles. Norah Lopez Holden, who plays Alan’s love interest, feels so contemporary she could come from another play. While Alan’s mother is in 1950s mode with Syreeta Kumar’s oddly wooden depiction.

Ira Mandela Siobhan and Ehtan Kai

The cast is superb though when it comes to doubling up as the horses, led in this endeavour by Ira Mandela Siobhan. Avoiding fancy puppetry emphasises the sensual to an almost risqué level – the show is confrontationally sexy. For a final exciting element, there’s the performance of Ethan Kai as Alan. Theatregoers love a career-defining role and this surely counts as one. As well as creating sympathy for the character – no easy leap – he also makes Alan scary. Presenting a young man so dangerously unaware of his own strength, Kai allows Alan to stand as an individual rather than an object in Shaffer’s intellectual game – and all benefit as a result.  

Until 23 March 2019

www.stratfordeast.com

Photo by The Other Richard