2019

“Jade City” at the Vault Festival

Alice Malseed’s commendable play affords a glimpse at white working-class men in Northern Ireland. It is a poetic affair that explores the dreams of two lost adults, childhood friends whose reminiscences repeatedly turn nightmarish. The games that they play, self-conscious fantasies that boredom drives them to shape together, are so obviously infantile that they add a degree of bitter humour. The neat device of role-playing enforces the prevailing tone of frustration and desperation.

These men’s lives are monotone. While lacking a mention of The Troubles, the details of poverty and boredom in a northern industrial town are checked off by rote. The men’s efforts at escapism and attitudes, particularly to drink, make for a pretty standard riff on toxic masculinity. Take the way emotions are bottled up, or that their youth is characterised by delusions of grandeur (they were once “kings”) – it’s a touch too predictable, even if depressingly accurate. And the piece lacks insight into their agency. It’s a long way into the action before accountability is raised. Thankfully, several factors elevate the slim and underexplored content. Firstly, bold imagery from Malseed, along with the structure of her play: a risky back and forth in time and reality that pays off and commands interest.

Matching an adventurous streak in the script is a strong production directed by Katherine Nesbitt. The pace is ferocious, there are moments when a pause would be welcome but the virility of the writing hardly allows this. My attendance was at a relaxed performance of the show, which makes comment on the lighting and sound design (from Timothy Kelly and Michael Mormecha) inappropriate – but intensity is never lacking. Staged around a boxing ring, a threat of violence seldom leaves the room. The two performers, Barry Calvert and Brendan Quinn, both throw themselves into the roles and grasp every moment of drama. The competitive dynamics of their relationship, the slow revelation of a tragedy that changed them both, crackles with tension. The performances, and Malseed’s poetic ear, make this a show that sounds great but perhaps says too little.

Until 10 February 2019

www.vaultfestival.com

Photo by Steve Gregson

2019

“The Good Landlord”at the Vault Festival

Crammed to capacity with topicality, this sharp comedy full of serious concerns makes a smart debut show for Metamorph Theatre. It’s the story of two generation renters offered a cheap deal on a flat with a view of Big Ben. The catch is that their new home is full of security cameras. Hilarity and debate follow as Tom and Ed cope, in very different ways, with a live feed to the apartment’s eponymous owner.

Phoebe Batteson-Brown

Driving the show’s comedy is a great performance by Phoebe Batteson-Brown. Playing the brilliant role of an estate agent, there’s a fantastic mix of corporate double-think that plays with being believable and is delivered with deliciously manic touches. There’s a good part, too, for Tiwalade Ibirogba-Olulode as a secretary who sneaks a look at, and falls for, one of the flat’s spied-on occupiers.  A more understated performance makes for a useful contrast and means Ibirogba-Olulode anchors the play.

Tiwalade Ibirogba Olulode

As our heroes, the carefully – and creepily – selected tenants, both Maximillian Davey and Rupert Sadler do a good job of conveying a host of big issues with a light touch. Alongside considerations of technology and privacy, which have a nifty parallel to Ed’s obsession with spies (Sadler delivers this adorably), there’s queasy voyeurism and a consideration of body issues. The hang-ups Davey’s Tom is so quickly labelled with are carefully left open in a sensitive portrayal. Sadler’s strategy is different. He goes all out for comedy with Ed’s toe-curling exhibitionism. This works – he gets the laughs – but it’s testament to the writing that Ed could clearly be a more desperate and edgy character. 

As well as effective work with her cast, director Cat Robey deserves applause for her strong staging of the show in the round, which cleverly conjures up the idea of a panopticon. It’s nobody’s fault that the venue is so far from the des-res. the action takes place in, but it does jar. Maybe some really good landlord would allow an immersive production in a penthouse development still for sale? Given the satire here, probably not! Robey’s direction shows a firm eye for detail and an admirable appreciation of the text.

The script itself is a painful one to critique as its author died so suddenly and so recently. The Good Landlord started as a devised piece that Michael Ross wrote after workshops with the company and it feels that some work remains to be done. Ross was not available for final rehearsals, and it is distressing to wonder about last-minute changes he might have made. As it stands, the play is a little too compact and bijou – scenes need unpacking and developing. But the comedy is great, the dialogue superb. And there are fascinating ideas – the guys as “products” for a voyeuristic project, or “ornaments” for the flat – that are sure to linger. Despite its many merits, there’s a sense of mortgage rather than completion with The Good Landlord. It’s with hope, best wishes, and some confidence given the clear talent here, that this new company moves up the theatre ladder to even bigger things.

Until 10 February 2019

www.vaultfestival.com

Photos by Ali Wright

2019

“Diaries of Madmen”at the Cockpit Theatre

Xameleon Theatre works with Russian-speaking artists and specialises in bringing their distinctive performance traditions to London. If this latest piece is any indication, producer and artistic director Vlada Lemeshevska has a keen eye for talent, having brought together an admirable team whose work has a clear sense of identity and whose skills both fascinate and excite.

The idea behind Diaries of Madmen isn’t great, though. Marrying Nikolai Gogol’s novella with Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky’s letters proves initially puzzling and ultimately unconvincing. The madness of Gogol’s character Poprischin is incongruously interspersed with Tchaikovsky’s decision to leave the civil service, then the critical drubbing he faced. The parallel between the two stories is forced – delusions of grandeur and ambition along with flights of the imagination are too tenuous as links. A potential theme of unrequited love is, oddly, unexplored. And the culmination is weak: while Poprischin is committed to an asylum, Tchaikovsky destroys his sixth symphony. From the story, there is little insight into mental health or creativity.

Ordinarily it would be difficult for a show to overcome such problems. But, while the idea driving director Konstantin Kamenski’s show may not inspire, his work and his performers are marvellous. It’s a fantastic save brought about with the aid or careful, inventive details, a distinct style of movement aided by Natalia Fedorova that comes close to choreography and some fantastic animation projected on to the floor from Irina Gluzman.

Kamenski’s cast is also exceptional. Irina Kara offers superb support as the mostly mute Mawra, who follows Poprischin around like a living prop. It’s not quite clear why she has to be encumbered so much by a picture frame and a rolling pin, but she manages to portray servility and belligerence simultaneously. Brief glances of her as Tchaikovsky’s sister show that she can also express a dignity and an inner turmoil that the show could easily have exploited further.

Taking both lead male roles, the performance from Oleg Sidorchik is truly bravura. Tchaikovsky has too small a part in the piece to be that well defined, but Sidorchik makes his portrayal distinctive and articulate. You don’t need to speak a word of Russian to admire his delivery, and his stage presence is frequently so magnetic that he distracts from the English surtitles. Whether gambolling around, writhing in agony, doing forward rolls or interacting with his shadow, Sidorchik is clearly a performer at the top of his game and you’d be без ума to miss the chance of seeing him.

Until 10 February 2019

www.thecockpit.org.uk

Photo by Oleg Katchinsky

2019

“The Shy Manifesto” at the Greenwich Theatre

This wonderful monologue from Michael Ross is on a national tour. Let’s hope the play is showing near you as attendance is thoroughly recommended. It’s part-presentation, akin to a school debate, and also a tender story about youth that’s full of topical relevance. The trials – and joys – of being shy become moving, thought-provoking and funny in a brilliant script.

The production is a bitter-sweet triumph because of its author’s sudden death from cancer this year. While the show is hugely enjoyable, it’s hard not to regret future works we are now deprived of. That Ross missed seeing the show performed is cruel. That those involved have done such a good job is of some consolation.

With The Shy Manifesto’s hero, Callum, Ross has written a fine creation who works well theatrically and makes a great role for Theo Ancient. It’s impossible not to warm to this keen-to-quote teen, who Ancient makes such a charming, flawed figure. Engendering complicity with the audience from the start, Callum’s world view is engrossing, his insecurities and his fate at an end-of-term party affectingly emotional. Ancient moves from cowed moments to bold exuberance, as director Cat Robey paces the show expertly. Robey does particularly well in energising the script with complementary musical accompaniment and lighting. These skills combine to take us into Callum’s Bournemouth bedroom world completely, to make his worries our own and likewise his hopes for the future, be they to stay true to himself or to live around the corner from the British Museum.

Ross hasn’t just penned an unusually good teen drama. His writing reveals facts sometimes lost on our hero, which creates a delicious subtext for the audience. His crush on new boy Gilbert is just one example. It’s fascinating to explore the theme of ‘shycons’ (brilliant term) who are idolised by the introverted. And while evoking a young voice so expertly, there’s a spirit of individualism that should give pause whatever your age. Callum’s questions may be raised in a naïve fashion – he’s 17, after all – but that doesn’t make them less important. Ross uses a young narrator to point out what should be obvious, sometimes unacceptable, to all; and to challenge, frequently in a surprising fashion, some easily accepted assumptions.

Alongside this is a great comedy. Callum’s intellectual pretentions, including his contagious love of words, remind us not to take him too seriously, and it’s a talent to make the vocabulary hilarious all by itself. And the cast of extras we meet – each performed with the help of a single prop (with one notable exception) and seen only through Callum’s eyes – are all worth a joke or three. Ross was an accomplished craftsman and a distinctive voice, his writing full of compassion, intelligence and humour. The Shy Manifesto proclaims these qualities loudly.

On tour until 4 March 2019

www.theshymanifesto.com

Photo by Anthony Hollis

2019

“Cost of Living” at the Hampstead Theatre

Edward Hall’s venue has a strong reputation for bringing American plays to our shore. Taking directorial charge of this one is clever move, as is getting Martyna Majok’s play over here so quickly – it only won the Pulitzer Prize for Drama last year – because the piece hits the jackpot. It’s the kind of play you really want to win big.

As a story focusing on people with disabilities, Cost of Living answers an urgent need for diversity and representation on the stage. Nobody should knock that, but Hall also knows a fundamentally strong play when he sees one. Following John and Ani, who both need constant care, it is true that some issues raised about the health system and class are more relevant to an American audience… one hopes. But this is a play so full of life, of pain and of love, that it is impossible not to get caught up in.

Jack Hunter and Emily Barber

First taking John, a wealthy grad student, performed superbly by Jack Hunter, and his carer Jess, their scenes are full of wit and tension with the non-disabled Jess as the focus. Her poverty and personality are conveyed with great skill by Emily Barber, who clearly appreciates how Majok is guiding the audience.

An even more complex relationship is that between Eddie (Adrian Lester) and his ex-wife Ani, who was injured in a car crash. The story of her death prologues the play, with a moving meditation on grief that could stand alone as a brilliant monologue. The balance between “glum” events and the play’s humour shows Majok’s skills further. The dialogue throughout is stunning in its naturalism. For a conclusion, both Lester and Barber excel again as the hope that the play never ceases to include is allowed as a final note.

The central scene, which I’d put money on as being the germ of the piece, is something else. Ani (played marvellously by Katy Sullivan) is being bathed by Eddie. Starting with an intense intimacy, this is a sex scene the likes of which you’ve probably never witnessed before on stage. The tenderness is moving, the atmosphere electric and the insight profound. To embody her theme that the smallest mistakes can change – and end – lives, Majok then produces a shocker. Truly, I’ve never heard such gasps from an audience. An unforgettable moment of theatre is what gets you awards, and it makes Cost of Living a priceless play.

Until 9 March 2019

www.hampsteadtheatre.com

Photo by Manuel Harlan

2019

“Cuzco” at Theatre 503

Even in a city as cosmopolitan as London, the chance to see contemporary European plays doesn’t come along often enough. This work, from Víctor Sánchez Rodríguez, went down well in Spain. Although it is a hard play to warm to, it is intriguing, has a distinctive voice and the production is first class.

The scenario – a couple taking a trip to Peru to save their relationship – is discordantly low stakes, given how much mileage Rodríguez hopes to get out of it. As both the characters become increasingly odd, observations on how “tourism perverts everything”, plenty of colonial guilt and a dash of both Marx and mythology become far-fetched and forced… yet, always interesting.

As for the couple, who (as usual for plays nowadays) are unnamed, they seem mismatched from the start. While the woman hates travel, the holiday changes her the most. She is smart and interesting and Dilek Rose gives a strong performance in the part; although how funny the play should be seems to be an unresolved issue. Her boyfriend is all passive aggression and place names. While Gareth Kieran Jones does well when emotion is called for, and saves a final uncharacteristic tirade that comes too close to ridiculous, his character is far too dull for her.

Criticism of William Gregory’s translation is difficult without a knowledge of the source, but it’s clear Rodríguez writing is heavy handed. A good deal of speech is bizarrely grandiose. And a lot of clichés slip in towards the end that make for uncomfortable listening. Further credit to the performers for making some deadened lines really live. After all, worrying about the “bourgeoisie self-contemplation of our drama” doesn’t really trip off the tongue.

Despite reservations, Cuzco is a trip worth taking. It’s a different view on plenty of issues that preoccupy British playwrights; there’s a good take on privilege for a start. And superb work from director Kate O’Connor, injecting a carefully controlled momentum, makes the play convincing throughout. Best of all is the sound design from Max Pappenheim, which supports the play brilliantly, providing an hallucinatory tone that fits the mention of a “suffocated howl” the characters experience to perfection.

Until 16 February 2019

www.theatre503.com

Photo by Holly Lucas

2019

“Thomas” at the Vault Festival

There are laudable aims and a strong idea behind Snapper Theatre’s new production – together they make for a good start. Written by Robbie Curran, who also takes the title role, the play’s hero has Asperger’s and the piece does well to represent his experience and challenge preconceptions. The clever addition is to parallel his youth with that of his cousin, David, played by Ben Lydon, and include the latter’s mental health in the story. Tackling prejudice about Asperger’s is sometimes crudely forceful and the second plot is underworked, but this is strong debut play with plenty of promise for development.

Problems arise with flashbacks to the characters’ childhoods. It’s not just that there are too many of these, but that they are too short. And it’s too easy to imagine lines whittled away to bring the running time to just under an hour. The direction from Lucy Foster could provide more support, while Grace Cronin’s movement work feels out of place. The play ends up disjointed and at times confusing.

The desire to form a connection between the audience and Thomas, to show he is ‘normal’, might excuse how predictable many of the scenes are. But the performances also end up stilted and contain few surprises. The boys’ humour doesn’t develop as they grow into men. This might be depressingly accurate but doesn’t help establish their ages from scene to scene. There are no reservations, however, for the third cast member, Amanda Shodeko who does a great job with several smaller roles: supremely comfortable on stage and eminently watchable, it’s always a thrill to see a performer in a small show who you are sure will go far.

Ben Lydon and Amanda Shodeko

Lydon is strongest as the version of David who is struggling at university. The growing sense that he no longer has to look after his friend is just one factor that leaves Thomas feeling lost. There’s mention of a sick father, troubles with course and career, but none of this is explored. Lydon is left to save what is really half the show, which he works hard to do.

Frustratingly, the structure is set up and sound, with a conclusion at a childhood home that’s a nice reflection of an earlier incident. It’s a shame more time isn’t allowed to bring the show to a satisfying finish.

Until 27 January 2019

www.vaultfestival.com

Photos by Tyrone Lewis

2019

“Blue Departed” at the Vault Festival

The smell of weed and spray paint and a walk down Leake Street mean it must be time for this year’s always-bigger-than-ever arts extravaganza under Waterloo Station. Yesterday was opening night no less for the start of eight weeks of events. With more than 400 shows to come, any single offering couldn’t be representative of the fare on offer, but the Anima Theatre Company’s show embodies my experience of previous years, both for good and ill. The Vault Festival is a great place for exciting new writing that isn’t afraid of taking risks that don’t always pay off.

There are plenty of ideas behind Serafina Cusack’s take on Dante’s Inferno. And that’s impressive. The show asks us to imagine Dante as a heroin addict and his (dead) Beatrice haunting him. But if you don’t know that before you go in you’ll be pretty lost. It is a good idea, testament to the potential here, as we descend into a hell that might be grief or cold turkey. But there’s a sense of trying too hard to be relevant and, dare I say it, trying to shock. Does Beatrice, also an addict, really have to be pregnant?

That same sense of trying too hard fills the production. The direction from Henry C Krempels feels manic, which works some of the time, but the show needs slowing down. The energy involved may be admirable but is also a little exhausting. The sound design is intrusive, although that might have been an attempt to compensate for noise emanating from the show next door, which is a problem throughout the venue. Cusack’s script has its moments, and is certainly stylish, but suffers from too many nonsensical touches; there’s a reference to the smell of an artery that made me stumble – who knows what one of those smells like?

The three consciously odd characters are difficult company, if well performed. The get-out clause is that what we see is a drug-induced haze, and Cusack’s play on time and hallucinations is great stuff. Mark Conway takes the lead role and does well with bringing out the piece’s considerable wit – Cusack’s comedy is another strength. But the two other characters (‘her’ and ‘his brother’) are, respectively, unbelievable and thinly written. That said, Rebecca Layoo and Richard James Clarke offer strong support and should be proud of their performances.

Creating characters who come close to being merely devices – and using a concept in the place of a plot – isn’t to everyone’s taste. Both can make a piece strangely cold and hard to engage with. A firmer criticism is that this show isn’t clear about what it wants to do. Tell us about mourning? Or addiction? Both, presumably, but that proves too much for a short show and the insights here are limited. Blue Departed fails to convince, but the experiment is admirable and effort valiant.

Until 27 January 2019

www.vaultfestival.com

Photo by Lidia Crisafulli

2019

“Violet” at the Charing Cross Theatre

This intriguing musical, about a disfigured woman’s journey across America in the hope of being healed by a television evangelist, won best musical at the New York Drama Critics’ Circle awards with its premiere in 1997. It’s a simple morality tale complicated by adult themes and characters. This production, from director Shuntaro Fujita, does the show proud but cannot hide some odd flaws.

The eponymous heroine is an unlikely central figure, which is for the good. Kaisa Hammarlund gives a brilliant performance in the role, barely stepping off stage during the show and always sounding superb. The problem is that her no nonsense character, and flashbacks to her childhood (where Keiron Crook does well as her father), make her need for a pretty face seem disappointing. Could such a smart woman fall for the fake glamour of the movies? That she does just that makes watching her troubles an uncomfortable affair. While the challenging of themes of self-esteem and the pressure of small-town “superstitions” is admirable, it’s hard to get behind Violet.

Kieron Crook

Romances that develop during Violet’s travels have potential, but feel rushed. The attraction to a young solider, Montgomery, is contrasted with a more meaningful connection established with his African-American colleague, Flick. Again, the performances are strong, from Matthew Harvey and Jay Marsh, respectively. But this love triangle is too scalene; the right man too obviously right from the start. Despite Harvey’s efforts to introduce tension, Violet’s fling with him seems unbelievable. And, while Flick’s attraction could also have been developed further, especially the racism the relationship would suffer from, it is still overwhelming in terms of plot.

Shuntaro tries hard to gloss over shortcomings with a new configuration for the venue and a revolving stage that do wonders for the space. But, while Bryan Crawley’s work on the book, an adaptation of a short story by Doris Betts, is sturdy enough, his lyrics are functional rather than inspired. Which is an especial shame given the quality of the score from Jeanine Tesori. A mix of country, blues, rock and gospel, the music is always interesting. The sense of time and place are rooted and there’s plenty of invention. When the ensemble acts as a chorus the sound is fantastic and there are marvellous turns for Angelica Allen and Simbi Akande that could easily have been extended.

The aftermath of the encounter between Violet and the preacher she has come to see is a painful summation of Tesori’s musical themes. It’s brilliantly written, superbly performed by Hammarlund, and reveals how well grounded the show is. Violet’s mania at this point, a mix of faith and instability provides a final, albeit too brief, reward for the interesting work on show here.

Until 6 April 2019

www.charingcrosstheatre.co.uk

Photos by Scott Rylander

2019

“Outlying Islands” at the King’s Head Theatre

Theatregoers should give thanks to Atticist Productions – and get a ticket, of course – for this new production of David Greig’s 2002 work, last seen in London at its Royal Court première. Carefully directed by Jessica Lazar, it delivers a quartet of fabulous performances. And what a play! Lyrically beautiful, intellectually stimulating and full of the unexpected, this is a long overdue revival.

It’s exciting not to know what’s coming next and makes avoiding spoilers important. Especially given a plot that seems so simple: two ornithologists studying on a remote island before World War II. Greig doesn’t make it clear how big a part the owner of the island and his niece will play – at first, they seem amusingly stereotyped (Ken Drury does a lovely job here). But, by wittily toying with expectations of a period piece, the play consistently surprises as events and characters develop with a magical touch and delightful richness.

Suffice to say that there’s plenty of sex and death in this Edenic location. Tom Machell gives a suitably magnetic performance as lead toff twitcher Robert. The character’s free thinking results in plenty of challenging statements. His colleague and chum John may play second fiddle – reminding us of decency and that a boat will be coming to collect them at some point – but Jack McMillan’s performance is first class. It’s a wonderful study of confused youth and contradictions. By no means least is Rose Wardlaw’s sensitive portrayal of Ellen, a woman who finds herself connected to life and the future in an unexpected manner.

Rose Wardlaw

Isolated from society and with work-altering body clocks, the play moves to examine love, time and limits. That emotions develop is seen by Robert as a scientific phenomenon, something to take notes on, while John reminds us how painful romance can be. Lazar allows the chilly observations and warm emotions they’re due, ensuring both of the text’s temperatures can be felt. Greig’s insights into time are philosophically invigorating, while the boundaries of convention, temporarily absent, lead artfully to yet more questions.

Take religion, Christianity vs Paganism, a theme Drury does so well to explicate. The theme gives an ethereal feel to the show, aided by strong sound and lighting design from Christopher Preece and David Doyle, respectively. Or the parodic forms of ritual we encounter, such as those surrounding feeding (there’s only one table on the island and let’s just say it’s used for more than one kind of communion). Compared with the birds being recorded, Outlying Islands asks how rooted in the animalistic we all are. Like a scientist studying nature, the same precise control allows Greig to examine men. An attempt at natural history in the form of theatre, it makes for fascinating viewing.

Until 2 February 2019

www.kingsheadtheatre.com

Photos by Clive Barda