2019

“Rosenbaum’s Rescue” at the Park Theatre

The fate of Denmark’s Jews during World War II is a starting point in A Bodin Saphir’s play. But it’s relatively recent investigations into events that become the focal point. And the debate, between a survivor and a historian – two men whose personal lives are intimately connected – makes this a play about family history as well. These three strands are worked with varying degrees of success to make a cautiously written debut play that’s for the most part impressive, but seldom inspired.

The history – of a mass evacuation that occurred with remarkably little loss of life – is summarised efficiently. It’s important as well as interesting and given immediacy by seeing its long-reaching effects on the lives of Abraham and Lars. Up next, revising what has become a pillar of Danish national identity has great potential as a story – it’s a smart insight, ripe for our times, that ‘post-truth’ is nothing new – but it ends up dramatically clunky. Lars, the academic casting suspicion on the “miracle” of a modern exodus, seems to be the world’s worst historian. Denying the possibility of interpretation, he’s eager to ignore detail in his search for the “whole truth”. The character is impossible to believe and the role leaves Neil McCaul as merely a mouthpiece for ideas.

David Bamber as Abraham has a happier time pursuing the drama of a man of faith pitted against facts. Trouble is, for all director Kate Fahy’s admirable efforts to keep the piece focused, this feels like another play, rather than a component of an argument already established. Bamber is convincing – even in a scene where Abraham becomes a surprising villain, as parallels are drawn with the issue of immigration today. Let’s hope we’d all agree about the dangers of a right-wing resurgence in Europe, but the topic is badly shoe-horned into this play.

Dorothea Myer-Bennett & Julia Swift

With the family drama we’re on surer ground. Again, there are tyro touches when it comes to drawing Lars’ daughter, Sara. She’s just your average former scientist turned performing arts reviewer and aspiring novelist (how’s that for fleshing out a character?). And she’s also that person you only meet in a play who instantly offers up a definition for a word they’ve just used. Nonetheless, Julia Swift does a superb job in the role, making you want to hear more from the character and see her generation’s perspective. And the play’s strongest feature is the relationship between Abraham and his wife, played to perfection by Dorothea Myer-Bennett. Providing some much-needed humour, the marriage anchors the play and confirms the fundamental promise of Bodin Saphir’s writing.

Until 9 February 2019

www.parktheatre.co.uk

Photos by Mark Douet

2019

“The War of the Worlds” at the New Diorama Theatre

Rhum & Clay’s clever new show isn’t based on the titular novel by HG Wells. And it only takes the famous 1938 broadcast by Orson Welles as a starting point. Instead, the show is a stellar theatrical adventure about fact and fiction. A parallel is drawn between the radio play that caused chaos by presenting itself as live reportage, and fake news in the present, exploring both with wit and intelligence.

This is a devised piece, written by Isley Lynn, but stressed as a collaboration, and a high percentage of the ideas work well. There may be a superfluous incidental character or two, maybe even a scene? But the show coalesces well and keeps an audience guessing. As the focus moves from a microphone to a radio and then a recorder for a podcast, interest increases. Throughout, Benjamin Grant’s sound design, which plays such a key role, is commendable.

All four cast members, including Rhum & Clay originators Matthew Wells and Julian Spooner, play to their strengths and impress. Everyone puts in a good turn as Orson Welles, performers of his show and terrified members of the public. But it’s the play’s female characters that stand out: Amalia Vitale and Mona Goodwin do a superb job in their central roles as Lawson and Meena, who encounter one another just before Donald Trump’s election as the latter makes a podcast about a family history that started on the night of that panic- inducing broadcast.

It’s the reactions to Welles’ show that interest this talented team. Reports of hysteria are well known – but are they an urban myth? And what are their contemporary parallels? Enter Trump. With our modern-day journalist travelling to America, and the small town Welles that based his broadcast around, the show gets really smart. It would be easy to identify with Meena, but care is taken to show she is too fond of clichés – Goodwin is excellent here – and she stoops to cheating to get her copy. It’s a brilliant move adding credibility, as Rhum & Clay play with alienating their audience a little! That we end up suspicious of everyone here is healthy. But, trust me, it’s no fake news to say that you should see this show.

Until 9 February 2019

www.newdiorama.com

Photo by Richard Davenport

2019

“In Lipstick” at the Pleasance Theatre

You might want some quiet time after Annie Jenkins’ new play. That it creates a need to pause for thought is the first recommendation for this high quality show. A modest story of two troubled women, whose relationship is disrupted when one starts an affair with a colleague, Jenkins aims for a fresh look at family and offers insight into safety, security and love.

The bizarre bond between housemates Cynthia and the older Maud is both disquieting and reassuring – a powerful observation on intense affection. The younger is an agoraphobic insomniac and the other a former victim of domestic abuse with an alcohol problem, so you’d expect the play to be grim. But the couple have moments of blissful abandon, with their “songs and stories” containing “glitter and sparkle”, as they perform Shirley Bassey songs and eat chicken nuggets. They’ve been happy in their isolated world. Yet as Maud begins her affair with Dennis, who we learn has his own demons, a sense of threat grows.

The trio of characters benefit from sterling depictions by the talented cast. Caroline Faber and James Doherty play the middle aged couple to perfection in their awkward courting scenes. Faber’s work alongside Cynthia is just as strong; a mix of maternal exasperation and tenderness with a touch of fear. As Cynthia, Alice Sykes gives a phenomenally committed performance establishing the complex vulnerability of the role from the start, always maintaining intrigue; the glimpse of her applying lipstick through her tears is tremendously powerful.

For all the praise that the performers deserve, the characters never quite convince. The dialogue feels contrived, not just the stories told but the obsession with facts that reflects a search for stability. There is a literary feel to the play that shows unquestionable promise on Jenkins part but is also studied. Situations are both banal and extraordinary so there’s a conflict between motivations that aren’t entirely credible yet a show that works overall. The biggest accolade should go to director Alice Hamilton whose work ensures the production’s success. Using a revolving stage and plenty of incidental music, the play is paced bravely showing confidence and giving the audience time to absorb. The atmosphere Hamilton creates perfectly complements the play. With a manic final scene the tempo escalates thereby increasing the shock of events and leaving the piece’s culminating cry for help as a forlorn moment of theatrical potency.

Until 27 January 2019

www.pleasance.co.uk

Photo by Ali Wright

2019

“Songs for Nobodies” at the Ambassadors Theatre

Performing as five of the greatest singers of the 20th century counts as brave in anybody’s book, foolhardy almost. Yet Bernadette Robinson manages to do just that, rising to the challenge in appropriately stellar style. That she makes each impersonation seem so effortless is the first step in taking her solo show to another level of special.

There’s Judy Garland, Patsy Cline, Edith Piaf and then Billie Holiday, with Maria Callas as a finale. What a line up. Arguably, Robinson’s challenge grows as the show’s 90 minutes progress, using the confidence she wins from the audience to her advantage. Each diva gets a song or two, impeccably arranged by Ian McDonald, and the musical side of the show is satisfying and entertaining.

But there’s more. Robinson’s clever move is in recruiting the talents of director Simon Phillips and playwright Joanna Murray-Smith. Allowing her acting to shine as much as her singing – no mean feat – the script is a series of cameos that feature the eponymous ‘nobodies’. Again, the variety is designed to impress; from an American journalist to an English librarian, women of different backgrounds and ages are all brought vividly to life as each recounts her encounter with a star.

Murray-Smith’s writing for these reminiscences can rightly be described as gem like. The short sketches take us to different times and places with crystal clarity. Each woman is star struck, which is repeatedly endearing, but the celebrities themselves, while convincingly magnetic, aren’t what this jeweller’s eye is studying. Full of humour and pathos, with a fair share of wisdom, it is these ordinary woman that interest most. The frank honesty of the monologues reflects the strange intimacy you can feel with a great performance from a big star. The move, from meeting a nobody to finding out they are a somebody, is inspiring every time. That’s just as big an achievement as the uncanny moments of vocal mimicry, making this a night of not five stars but ten.

Until 23 February 2019

www.songsfornobodies.co.uk

Photo by Nick Brittain

2019

“An Enemy of the People” at the Union Theatre

Laudably, award-winning director Phil Willmott likes his classics to have modern-day relevance. The title of Ibsen’s 1882 play, which pitches the individual against the masses, is to be adopted for a season of shows that runs through the first quarter of this year. The idea is exciting – look out for Can-Can! next month and a production of Othello after that – but unfortunately An Enemy of the People itself is not a propitious start.

This adaptation, from none other than Arthur Miller, has Ibsen’s Doctor Stockmann in America and pitted against his community when he discovers that a plan for its economic regeneration, based on a spa, is doomed by environmental pollution. The fit with the original sounds snug but proves uncomfortable. The time and place end up as a kind of allegorical wilderness. The emblematic roles for small businesses (Ibsen’s bourgeoisie) are confusing, and representation of the press also fails. Despite a nice depiction from Jed Shardlow as a mendacious editor, this fourth estate needs updating.

Willmott’s direction is impeccable and, when pressure grows on Stockmann to deny scientific facts, he manages to inject tension. The cast is generally strong, although some accents could be tighter. David Mildon takes the lead role, which, despite being written as ridiculously naïve, he grows into the nicely. And there is admirable support from Emily Byrt as his wife – it’s good to see her doubt and anger at spousal inflexibility. Mary Stewart also does a stand-out job as the town’s mayor, injecting just enough exaggeration into her performance as a politician so that we are never quite sure how self-deluded the character is.  

At least with the mayor, a parallel with a current world leader is clear. It’s the other roles searching for contemporary resonance that prove a problem. Miller’s work on the piece is from the 1950s, while the production’s poster promises us Donald Trump’s America. The treatment feels old-fashioned, the dialogue clunky. There’s talk of radicals, insurgents and free thinking that cries out for refinement. A couple of potentially interesting points – the role of religion and the doctor’s intellectual superiority complex – could have been made far more challenging. Didactic in the original, the message is still clear, but too many annoying details get in the way of any lesson.

Until 2 February 2019

www.uniontheatre.biz

Photo by Scott Rylander.

2019

“True West” at the Vaudeville Theatre

Director Matthew Dunster makes commendably light work of Sam Shepard’s heavy play. With a couple of star names attached – Kit Harington and Johnny Flynn – the production is enjoyable and entertaining.

Dunster and his cast, who play two bickering brothers, have a keen appreciation of Shepard’s humour. Even as their antics flip from the sinister to the increasingly desperate, elements of the absurd are emphasised. While the siblings’ estrangement has a longer history than Harington or Flynn manage to suggest and the tension throughout could be sharper (Flynn is never quite as physically threatening as the text suggests), these are detailed studies and the performances are worth the price of admission. Harington is unrecognisable as the geeky Austin, a semi-successful screen writer. His rivalry with Lee, who Flynn makes a charismatic rogue, is subtly played. As the movie Austin thought he had lined up is canned, in preference to a feeble pitch that part-time crook Lee thought up and promoted through a combination of gambling and “beginner’s luck”, the professional setback leads to a breakdown that Harington makes very convincing.

Austin’s occupation – and, through it, Shepard’s exploration of writing – proves tiresome. The illusions crafted in movies (not films, please note) are all a part of exploring that old American Dream. Admittedly Shepard does this in credible detail. The sense of time and place is wonderful – credit to Jon Bausor’s set and costume design here, too – but this is a small spin on an old topic. And credit, also, to raising the problems associated with masculinity at a time before the word toxic was attached to any discussion of men. Sadly, accurate as it may be, True West is ultimately heavy handed despite the efforts of a talented director and his leading men.

Until 23 February 2019

www.nimaxtheatres.com

Photo by Marc Brenner

2018

“The Convert” at the Young Vic

Trying to tackle colonialism and religion, along with sexism and education, could easily overwhelm a play. But this assured work from Danai Gurira, directed with inspired steps by Ola Ince, takes all these big topics in its elegant stride.

The key to success might come from specificity: the play focuses on the distinctly Catholic experience of a single woman, Jekesai, alongside the history of one uprising in the Zimbabwe of 1896. The characters are all local and their culture is explored in detail, with complex results that are rich and satisfying. It’s an in-depth look, from many angles, complemented perfectly by the decision to stage the show in the round.

Letitia Wright makes Jekesai’s conversion believable – and that she sees the opportunity for power and representation through religion is an exciting spin, as Christianity literally saves her from a marriage of convenience. Quickly becoming the protégé of Mr Clifford, who aspires to be a priest, this is a central relationship that’s as moving as it is layered. Clifford is given a superb realisation by Paapa Essiedu. Full of repression and conviction, for all his weaknesses he’s a hero of sorts. With the pair seen as collaborators of the colonists, and therefore targets, the theme of religious persecution is given a forceful twist. Two strong female characters accentuate the complexities of locating dissent. Pamela Nomvete plays a servant who pays only lip service to her master’s religion, while Luyanda Unati Lewis-Nyawo is the blue-stocking Miss Prudence ready to provide a feminist perspective.

The one exception to a generally old-fashioned feel is to include a lot of a local language, which highlights linguicism with great dramatic skill. Gurira bolsters the point, again skilfully, with the Queen’s English that the play’s westernised characters speak. There’s humour in mistakes in syntax and endearing precision, but the connection between power and language is clear and thought-provoking. The struggle with speaking is one of many carefully developed investigations of imperialism. But views never feel forced on characters (true a “signifier” slips in once) and a believably late Victorian feel indicates thorough research alongside theoretical thinking.

Among all the issues, Gurira hasn’t forgotten the basics, and The Convert is a well-crafted, traditional piece. There’s a set of strong characters that the performers get their teeth into and a powerful plot that builds tension marvellously. In short, it’s a gripping story about people you really care for.

Until 26 January 2019

www.youngvic.org

Photo by Marc Breener

2018

“Antony and Cleopatra” at the National Theatre

Lavish is the only word to describe Simon Godwin’s new production of Shakespeare’s epic historical romance. With an iconic love story, battles for an empire, a star cast and luxurious fittings, everything about the play is overblown. It makes sense for Godwin to follow Shakespeare’s lead, but so much exaggeration does end up tiring.

This is a traditional production. Despite some modern uniforms and a TV screen, the delivery is clear and there are no fancy ideas driving it. Quality is the aim and that is achieved. Hildegard Bechtler’s set makes grand use of the space, Cleopatra’s costumes by Evie Gurney could come from a catwalk and Michael Bruce’s live music, with a flavour of both the East and the military, is so good it deserves to be released.

The performances are strong, too. Sophie Okonedo takes the daunting title role in her stride. She makes a beguiling queen and is carefully understated. The constant performance Cleopatra sets up (the character is aware she always has an audience) is made to feel natural and entertaining. Ably supported by Gloria Obianyo as her servant Charmian, the queen moves in an Egyptian court dripping with sophistication. But all that confidence ends up a problem. It robs the tension from Antony’s first departure and, more importantly, deflates the play’s obsessive insistence on fate. It’s easy to believe Cleopatra’s pride would lead her to a final suicide, but isn’t she supposed to see it as an escape from fickle fortune?

There’s a similar stubbornness in the other star name, Ralph Fiennes. His “old ruffian” Antony is convincingly down to earth – he runs off for a drink as if going into battle. But when his authority “melts”, it’s hard to remember it was ever there. The “Roman thoughts” that Cleopatra fears will overcome him don’t seem to enter his mind. Nonetheless, it is fantastic to see a performer who can hold the Olivier stage as well as Fiennes. Both Fiennes and Okonedo deliver the verse with a natural fluency that is a high point of the show. This may be too safe an affair for some, but Godwin and his cast deal with a difficult play with extravagant competency.

Until 19 January 2019

www.nationaltheatre.org.uk

Photo by Johan Persson

2018

“The Tell-Tale Heart” at the National Theatre

As one of the original so-called ‘in-yer-face’ dramatists, a loose group known for their aggressive writing, horror seems an appropriate genre for Anthony Neilson to explore. Here, comedy, crime and suspense are all added to a Gothic tale that is also about the theatre; making a crazy mix that plays with plays and travels from shock to schlock. One part is genuinely sickening, which is an achievement… of sorts.

Inspiration comes from the short story by Edgar Allan Poe, helpfully reprinted in the programme, about a senseless murder followed by a guilt-ridden confession. The update is to have a playwright rather than a madman, and a landlady with a large prosthetic eye that’s genuinely freaky.

Since we know the plot, Neilson’s direction deserves full credit for adding tension: maybe he’s an ‘edge-of-yer-seat’ writer now? The story’s claustrophobic setting is conveyed by Francis O’Connor’s design and the narrator’s acute, indeed hallucinatory, sense of hearing has led to strong work from composer and sound designer Nick Powell: in this story of the eye, the ears have it.

For many, success will come with the show’s comedy, even if it is the quantity rather than quality of jokes that impresses. The Tell-Tale Heart is tasteless, there’s a lot of – literally – toilet humour. And crudity, of course, although a joke about oral sex with a hipster is inspired. The comedy is always well delivered. Tamara Lawrance and Imogen Doel are excellent as, respectively, the contemporary playwright Celeste and her oddball landlady Nora. Meanwhile, David Carlyle is brilliant as two incarnations of a police man; one in the version of events that’s been turned into a play.

David Carlyle and Tamara Lawrance

So, clearly, the play is self-consciously clever, such as getting us to laugh at physical deformity, then reminding us that’s not very nice. And depicting Celeste, harshly, as an easily recognisable virtue warrior who turns out to be a psychopath. Back to that programme, and an excellent essay by Greg Buzwell, who proposes that the gothic genre “mutates” to show us contemporary fears. What might Neilson be revealing? Some people are worried that artists should be exemplary people. It’s a current debate, but a little dull. Making jokes about how “writers writing” is boring doesn’t make the play’s focus on just that any more interesting. On a broader level, are we all worried about not being quite so civilised as we would wish – or is demanded of us?

Raising these questions seems a small payoff for the elaborate games played here. All in all, there’s a little too much genre being juggled. And final twists in the tale (there’s more than one) prove a tad lame. It’s a shame, since The Tell-Tale Heart, beneath trying too hard, is pumping good fun.

Until 8 January 2019

www.nationaltheatre.org.uk

Photos by Manuel Harlan

2018

“The Cane” at the Royal Court

Mark Ravenhill’s new play uses education to examine politics between the generations and the sexes. Cultural pressure points, easily recognised, signal an author with his finger on the pulse, while intelligence and care call out hypocrisy on either side of a divide between ages and genders. The simple scenario has a teacher, about to retire, literally under siege by a violent mob of school children who discover that, once upon a time, he executed corporal punishment.

Fairy tales play a part; the language of the play is often comedically plain, reactions to extremes deadpan, and there’s reference to a witch or two. It seems that Edward, a dedicated Deputy Head, and his wife Maureen, are living in a never-never land, full of nonsensical nostalgia that the Daily Mail would be proud to print and everyone else can enjoy mocking. Those millennial snowflakes are a target of course – so far too predictable – with Alun Armstrong and Maggie Stead doing a wonderful job of making outrage believable. Thankfully, Ravenhill knows it’s essential to present another side to the story.

The presence of the couple’s daughter, Anna, estranged as a traitor since she works for an Academy school, shows the play’s strengths. Ravenhill has created a challenging character and Nicola Walker gives a superb performance in the role. She knows what “best practice” consists of,  yet doesn’t believe any of the jargon she is fluent in and her motives prove dark. Anna’s background, her childhood with this odd couple, leads to some extravagances on Ravenhill’s part. Walker juggles the anger her character has inherited with a façade of calm that is captivating.

Vicky Featherstone’s direction suits the play perfectly. But waiting for the headmaster, who has been scared away by scandal, and a trip into the attic, don’t really cut it dramatically. Efforts are made to inject tension, Chloe Lamford’s design tries especially hard, still it’s hard to believe a lot of what little action there is here. Credibility isn’t the point of course, but its lack can prove frustrating; a block to the admirable detail on offer when it comes Edward’s sexism or Anna’s vengefulness. The Cane works better as a set of ideas than it does as a play, but these are clever arguments, well presented and expertly performed.

Until 26 January 2019

www.royalcourttheatre.com

Photo by Johan Persson