2018

“Billy Bishop Goes to War” at the Jermyn Street Theatre

This low-key play from John MacLachlan Gray and Eric Peterson tells the true story of a Canadian WWI pilot and makes for a surprisingly gentle commemoration in the Great War’s anniversary year. Our hero, Billy, is pleasingly unusual: an unwilling recruit, accident-prone yet “gifted” and achieving a record “score” for kills. For most of the play, he is shockingly callow. It’s really Charles Aitken’s commandingly affable performance throughout that makes him watchable. Aitken grafts like a real trooper and carries a heavy burden. From caddish bounder to troubled boozer (and doubling as a couple of female parts along with way), he forces energy into a flat script again and again.

Oliver Beamish joins as an older Billy. Director Jimmy Walters allies the roles well, with solid work throughout, but the Billy who looks back at his youth is wasted and simply wallows in nostalgia. It’s with a small number of cameos that Beamish can come into his own, injecting, possibly too much, humour into the story. The japes around Billy’s scrapes go on too long and are repetitive, with weak jokes. The rest of the time Beamish accompanies on the piano – this is a play with music – but sadly the refrains are poor and the lyrics awful.

The play doesn’t get serious until after the interval – fair enough – maybe that was Billy’s personal experience. But then we get more music… and it doesn’t improve in quality. Walters highlights the play’s most interesting features – the role of Britain’s colonies in the war and the idea that the motherland likes its heroes dead – but the play itself doesn’t explore either enough. Worse still, Bishop’s “bloodthirsty” battle lust, so honestly admitted, is left unexamined. The drama and the horror of war are insufficiently evoked. In one sense, this is a useful corrective aside from the more prevalent glory-or-guts narratives of conflict. But the thrill of the kill should lead to a chill in the theatre that is conspicuous by its absence.

Until 24 November 2018

www.jermynstreettheatre.co.uk 

Photo by Robert Workman

2018

“One Write Stand” by the Front of House Theatre Company

Those who serve at the National Theatre have created a chance to reveal their other talents with their own company that shows us what they really want to do. Along with several productions under their belt, a night of new writing is becoming an annual event. There’s undoubtedly a friends and family feel – it’s a bit like gate crashing a good party – and an atmosphere this supportive has a special attraction.

The first half of the evening presents three short plays that struggle with their time slots. Gavin J Innes does best with his two-hander, a scenario of a drugs test for an athlete, which works well as a sketch. The next two efforts, Solicitation Games by Carl Blades and Selfhood by Aaron Gordon, take on bigger subjects – sex and race – and have lots of ideas but fall down when they introduce third characters, despite the valiant efforts of the performers.

Innes also directs his play. Along with Neil Gordon and Elliott Bornemann, who take charge of the other two, there is a common flaw here (easily corrected). Each play is just a little too slow: laughs laboured, drama drawn out, so problems in the scripts are elaborated rather than eased over. And it should be noted that quieter performances often have more impact: Omar Austin does well as the ‘Zen’-like character caught between two feuding sisters in Selfhood.

Omar Austin in Selfhood

On to the second half. Michael Ross’s Brutalism, set in a high-rise block and concerning gentrification, shows writing of the highest quality. Not a line is wasted, and the lead, Amy Beckett, knows it –she has great fun with the comedy in her role as a social worker-turned-propertydeveloper. It’s a delicious conceit that makes you want more. The twist is a surreal one that could have real bite. But it arrives too quickly, leaving the feeling of a fuller play truncated and puzzling. To end the evening on a real high is I Heart Mary by Emma Bentley. Director Courtney Larkin is full of ideas, while a trio of performers – Mauricia Lewis, Olivia Seaton-Hill and Tricia Wey – is boosted by the crowd. The trick is simple: this a sketch about working in the customer service industry. Plenty of jokes ring true and hit home, while the frustrations are depicted sincerely and the piece doesn’t patronise. Preaching to the choir maybe, but it’s contagiously effective.

4 November 2018

www.fohtheatrecompany.com

Photos by Alex Grey

2018

“ear for eye” at the Royal Court

What debbie tucker green’s new piece about racism lacks in conventional dramatic terms, it makes up for with intricate, challenging argument. The didacticism here may deter some, although nobody could mistake its passion. It’s a useful skill – and an achievement to write with such heartfelt conviction and remain so satisfyingly articulate.

It helps to be prepared for ear for eye. The event is in three parts, followed by a brief and haunting epilogue. The opening design has art gallery written all over it, with Merle Hensel’s set reminiscent of Antony Gormley’s Blind Light. But don’t worry, as things become clearer. The direction, also by tucker green, is disingenuously sparse, with a rehearsal room vibe – there’s work to be done and this is a team up to the job.

First up is a collection of short scenes: tales of violence and protest that provide some brilliant monologues for Angela Wynter, Michelle Greenidge and Kayla Meikle. It’s pure poetry as we cover generations and criss-cross the Atlantic. The detail is rich, but the stories are without specifics – a quite magical move that is occasionally frustrating. While it increases empathy for the characters, when it comes to some stories and when considering potential differences between the USA and UK, instinct cries out for more facts. But tucker green is insistent.

Cue part two, which has two academics debating a high-school massacre, with a twist (which the audience has to fill in many a blank for) of startling originality. There are superb performances here from Lashana Lynch, who becomes a picture of frustration before our eyes, and Demetri Goritsas as a patronising expert cagily ignoring the question of race. It’s a bit of a shame that tucker green sets up such a straw man with this character, even if he is brilliantly awful – I can’t curl my toes and concentrate at the same time (maybe tucker green has had more practice at this?).

Lashana Lynch

The third part of ear for eye is a film, with tucker green showing yet another set of skills. A cast of Caucasian men, women and children read out historic laws from America and Jamaica that relate to segregation and the treatment of slaves. There’s the novelty of mixing theatre with film in this way, and the triptych display of the film itself, a piece of cinema with a strangely static quality, is chilling even before considering its subject matter. Carefully using another’s words to complete her argument is a bold move for a writer, but it masterfully closes her case.

ear for eye needs patience, as complicated arguments require time. We are taken from body language to legal discourse, from the personal to the political and, while this is dizzyingly expansive, tucker green’s point is surely to show the connection between then and now: how the words on film affect the lives of the characters on stage. Her glorious text is all about tenses, as past, present and future are mixed from one sentence to the next, but it can be disorientating. History is collapsed as our contemporaries recite those awful laws and claim a living legacy for racism that is such an important part of contemporary debate.

Until 24 November 2018

www.royalcourttheatre.com

Photos by Stephen Cummiskey

2018

“I’m Not Running” at the National Theatre

A life in politics, with new trends and old truths, is tackled in David Hare’s latest work. Hare imagines the success of a fictitious independent campaigner for the NHS, a single-issue candidate with a populist touch, who gains such momentum she just might run for leader of the Labour Party. This will-she-won’t-she drama proves surprisingly entertaining.

Focusing on a heroine means Hare tackles current developments in feminism, a bold move that he carries off well. The character of Pauline Gibson condenses many problems women face with insight and humour, although she’s written a little too naïve – the play spans 20 years and there isn’t enough personal development. But it’s a star role for Siân Brooke who, while shouting a tad excessively, manages to make a demanding role look easy work and proves a captivating presence with the charisma the character calls for.

Considering Gibson as a new kind of politician gives the play topical cachet. The debate is about party machinery, admittedly an easy target, and Hare gets good laughs with plenty of insight. A press officer, whose character is given depth by Joshua McGuire, makes for one successful foil. Gibson’s college boyfriend and then leadership rival is the show’s second lead: Alex Hassell’s Blairite creation is delicious fun, just the right side of caricature. The romance between Brooke and Hassell’s characters wastes time. It’s too easy to spot where director Neil Armfield has tried to inject pace, and the arguments that ensue are contrived.

Either Gibson is your worst nightmare or she’s the politician we need rather than the one we deserve. Either way, the character is too simplistic for I’m Not Running to be truly brilliant. The play is a traditional affair; inexplicably Hare’s craftsmanship and the very idea of a national debate at the National Theatre turns some off. But perhaps what dates Hare most is his wry, sardonic tone. This is playwright as sage, a role Hare has earned and that I am happy to subscribe to. The distance in his authorial voice gives a calmer approach than much current political discussion and makes him, refreshingly, open and questioning. And Hare has the experience to make the topic work theatrically. Clearly, the subject matter is important. This play is about the most powerful political ingredient – hope. And examining how realistic we are about our politicians is essential. But the real skill here is to make such ideas exciting. Will Gibson renege on a statement not to run? Will a politician actually end up telling the truth? Despite expectations, Hare makes the question gripping.

Until 31 January 2019

www.nationaltheatre.org.uk

Photo by Mark Douet.

2018

“A Guide For The Homesick” at the Trafalgar Studios

There’s a good story within Ken Urban’s play. Bear with me, as the opening isn’t promising: a one-night stand between two men in a foreign city who begin to reveal their dark secrets. As you might guess, it’s contrived, predictable and a little silly. But, as themes of betrayal are exposed, the fine line between friendship and romantic love is explored. As the play develops to include a global look at LGBT rights, it gets better and better.

The two main characters here are not appealing. It’s not that they’ve done anything bad, as becomes apparent all too quickly, but because their privilege brings their remorse perilously close to indulgence. Maybe Urban is making a point here? The characters ring true enough, their virtue-signalling as empty as any cynic might wish. But their self-obsession borders on the incredible. It takes two fine performances to flesh the characters out.

It’s easy to see the roles’ attraction for both Clifford Samuel and Douglas Booth, who take the parts of Teddy and Jeremy, respectively. Under the careful direction of Jonathan O’Boyle, they excel. Both are careful studies: Booth’s character is full of nervous energy and Samuel’s a false confidence. Better still, the backstories of the men who now haunt Teddy and Jeremy mean switching into new roles – accomplished in fine style. Booth has a good line on tortured mania, while Samuel is stunning as a happy man whose life is destroyed.

It is the stories of these other men, Nicholas and Eddie, that are really interesting. We need to know more of Eddie’s mental health, not least how this relates to Teddy’s feelings for him. And it would be good to explore Jeremy’s motivations for becoming an aid worker in Africa more deeply. But the plight of Nicholas as a gay man in Uganda, which is where most of the play’s impact lies, makes A Guide For The Homesick an urgent call to action. The role of the American right in the rise of homophobia is mentioned more than once and the questions of responsibility that fill the play become forceful. There’s an uncomfortable balance between the two traumatic stories, while both make the angst of our moaning main protagonists pale. Again, how much Urban intends this highlighting of first world problems is an open question, but it’s a fascinating one that, after a false start, makes the play one to ponder.

Until 24 November 2018

www.atgtickets.com

Photo by Helen-Maybanks

2018

“Wise Children” at the Old Vic

Emma Rice and the late Angela Carter make a fine match – their works are full of invention, wit and fantasy. This new adaptation of Carter’s 1991 novel is a great yarn that distils, through its fairy-tale exaggerations, themes of family that are universal while being original and surprising. The story of twins Nora and Dora Chance is full of pain, but also joy – combined with blissful theatricality.

As both director and adapter, Rice has a defined style, well-honed, with plenty of trademarks and I, for one, can’t get enough of them. Instilling a complicity with the audience from the start, the show is a mix of music, dance, even mime. The aesthetic is ramshackle and peripatetic, with a caravan that’s moved around. Costumes become the key to character (with great work from Vicki Mortimer). Rice’s talented cast takes on a head-spinning number of parts with such skill that it’s difficult to work out how many people are performing.

The multiple roles are especially important for Wise Children as six people play our heroines throughout their lives. The performers interact and look over one another’s actions to magical effect. All are wonderful but, taking the lead as the oldest incarnations, are Etta Murfitt and Gareth Snook, whose interaction with the crowd is truly expert. The twins’ past takes in abuse, abandonment, death and war. But throughout there is a sense of humour and mischief. Leading the laughs, complete with a fat suit and big attitude to match, are Katy Owen as Grandma Chance, who takes in the girls when they are babies. And Paul Hunter’s turn as end-of-the-pier comedian Gorgeous George is a real gem.

Paul Hunter as Gorgeous George

The twins have a life in theatre and their stage career provides a lot of value, including a Shakespeare revue (with surely an eye down the road to Rice’s ex-residence, the Globe) that’s a real hoot. Their birth father (another great role for Hunter) is an old-fashioned mummer, while his acknowledged children, who manage to get to RADA, provide further roles for Mirabelle Gremaud and Bettrys Jones to excel in.

Alongside all the fun and fantasy, Carter retains an edge that injects realism into her story. Rice respects this balance and her multi-disciplinary approach is perfect for bringing out the text’s complexity, including its dark moments. Attacking events with fantastic energy, there’s all the lust you can handle in this genre-defying, gender-bending production, which culminates in a paean to the idea of the logical family. “Oh, what joy to sing and dance” is the twins’ refrain. And what a joy to watch, too.

Until 10 November 2018

www.oldvictheatre.com

Photos by Steve Tanner

2018

“The Distance You Have Come” at the Cockpit Theatre

There are six big reasons to see this show, namely, every member of the cast. It’s a song cycle, from composer Scott Alan, with numbers vaguely related to relationships: their beginning and endings, and the fears, ambitions and dreams they provoke, including parenthood. And it’s important to remember the nature of the piece – as a showcase for Alan’s work – which is performed with upmost professionalism by an impressive collection of West End regulars.

Alan also directs and makes an effort to interweave the numbers, which works better musically than theatrically. There are recurring characters, but this is sometimes confusing and, in one instance (a number called Quicksand), downright jarring. But there’s no pretence at an over-arching story – the music is the focus and it’s strong. It’s no surprise Alan is so successful or boasts so many collaborators. His compositions have instant appeal and his carefully constructed melodies are delightfully lyrical. The lyrics themselves, though, are poor, crammed with repetition and cliché. Generally downbeat, the work is heavy on emotion and very light on humour. The sincerity might grate – it’s a question of taste –and there’s a general air of entitlement in the songs, Nothing More is a good case in point, a sweet duet where “All I want” turns out to be quite a long list!

Andy Cox and Adrian Hansel

The performers make the evening by squeezing the most out of the songs. Emma Hatton get the show off to a great start with a song about a performer’s ambitions – it’s a mock audition that makes you certain she would get any job. Andy Coxon and Adrian Hansel impress with their acting skills, as well as their voices, as they perform as a couple in a number of songs. Some of these are sickly sweet, so credit to both for grounding the pieces a little. Jodie Jacobs also adds value to her numbers; in truth she has more personality than the songs she’s singing, and she sounds great. Likewise, the strong voices of Dean John-Wilson and Alexia Khadime propel the songs. They both have beautiful voices, manage to make most of the earnestness convincing and, with a mix of sweetness and sheer power, are a privilege to hear. Accompanied by just piano and violin, The Distance You Have Comeprovides a chance to hear all six top-notch talents in an intimate setting that is well worth travelling for.

Until 28 October 2018

www.thecockpit.org.uk

Photos by Darren Bell

2018

“Freeman” at the Pleasance Theatre

Mental health and criminal justice are big topics. Add racism, then try to explore the links between all three, and any endeavour risks overreaching itself. To avoid this danger, the intelligent approach from the Strictly Arts Theatre company is a documentary one that benefits from unwavering intensity. Freeman presents facts – painful and disturbing – in a furious fashion.

The show’s ambition is all the more remarkable given that it takes in 200 years of history. Centring on the story of the first African American who pled insanity for a crime, we see cases where the care of those suffering from mental illness is exacerbated by racism right up to the present day. Presentation is the key, tightly controlled by director Danièle Sander and executed with conviction by an amazing cast. The text, devised with writer Camilla Whitehill, is full of calm moments, contrasting with a physicality that is often frightening. There’s a lot of dance – movement encapsulates violence and death – with clever lighting and subtle projections.

Williams Freeman, who gives the play its title, was a 19th-century slave who was wrongfully imprisoned and beaten so badly in jail it brain damaged him. Corey Campbell takes the part with skill, retaining sympathy despite the horrific, literally insane, revenge Freeman took on an innocent family. Freeman’s defence argument was based on the Daniel M’naghten rules, and the point is made that such a consideration was offered to a white man first. Taking on the M’naghten role alongside that of Freeman’s lawyer (and various other racists) gives Pip Barclay the chance to shine.

Acting as a litany for six tragic figures, with each story the whole cast responds as a team, playing smaller parts or using their bodies as props. It seems important to name the other four, too. The story of Sandra Bland is performed by Kimisha Lewis, who conveys the escalating situation of an arrest marvellously. And Michael Bailey, David Oluwale and Sarah Reed form a trio of British sufferers of poor mental health, each portrayed with finesse as well as passion by Keiren Amos, Marcel White and Aimee Powell. If there’s a fault, these other stories aren’t given enough time. The show comes in at under an hour, while each could justify a whole play. More detail is often called for. Freeman is effective, moving and informative, but it would be good if there were more of it.

Until 21 October 2018

www.pleasance.co.uk

Photo by Richard Kiely

2018

“The Wider Earth” at the Natural History Museum

Most peoples’ ideas about Charles Darwin, in part thanks to £10 notes, relate to an old, bearded figure of wisdom. The first clever move in this new play by David Morton is to focus on the younger Darwin – a far more approachable character – and tell the tale of his voyage on HMS Beagle when he was only 22. It’s an adventure story, if not quite swash-buckling, juggling excitement and information, aimed at those aged ten and up.

The story is supplemented with background debate on the subject of slavery and made weighty with a lot of discussion about Darwin and religion. Both topics are interesting and, of course, valid – but it makes that age guidance important. Some complicated arguments are laid out, and laid out well, but note that they are wordy and demanding. The “terrifying thought” of natural selection, again plotted competently, can’t carry much dramatic impact without the cultural context, and establishing a period feel could have been elaborated.

Hosting the show at the Natural History Museum, in a new, specially constructed theatre, makes for an appropriate setting rather than one the show actually uses: the production comes from Australia, via New York, and is clearly designed to travel. Morton, working alongside designer Aaron Barton, has a clever revolving set for his cast to climb around, and some excellent projections, making the production feel satisfyingly expensive. There’s a convincing sense of travel ­– appropriate to a story that circumnavigates the world – and, when the text allows, the action is swift.

Bradley Foster and Jack Parry-Jones

As a director, Morton runs a tight ship and the cast is strong. Led by Bradley Foster, who makes an endearing Darwin throughout, there are strong turns from Melissa Vaughan as his fiancée Emma Wedgwood and Andrew Bridgmont as his tutor, John Stevens Henslow, both of whom have to tackle some vaguely patronising dialogue, presumably aimed at making Darwin relatable. The most interesting roles go to Jack Parry-Jones, as Captain FitzRoy, who manages to inject a good deal of tension, and Marcello Cruz as a missionary returning to his home of Tierra del Fuego in a fictional subplot that threatens to overwhelm that show at one point. Darwin cuts a rather impassive figure in too many scenes. There’s a frustratingly slim sense of the man. But thankfully, the true emphasis in the show is on a sense of wonder, which Foster continually captures. His amazement and confusion at the natural world inject a sense of investigation that could shape many a future career. Alongside the charming creations of the Dead Puppet Society, Darwin’s encounters with animals have a sense of wide-eyed fascination that is contagious and inspiring.

Until 24 February 2019

www.thewiderearth.com

Photos by Mark Douet

2018

“Eugenius” at The Other Palace

Here’s yet another irreverent musical, this time taking comic books and their creators as its subject, full of tongue-in-cheek fun and aspiring to cult status. A transfer to the Ambassadors Theatre was announced and cancelled just today. Let’s hope the breaking news is just a postponement to future success. The show is primed to do well by Ian Talbot’s admirably ambitious direction, which ensures that Ben Adams and Chris Wilkins’ piece impresses. There’s plenty of enjoyment to be had, even if Eugenius is a tame affair that too gently pokes fun at theatre and heroics: it’s competent, entertaining and only just short of super.

Reservations arise not just because the piece is derivative, although you will probably recognise a lot of other shows that have inspired it. Adam and Wilkins’ book is a bit messy and the humour tepid. There’s a coming-of-age story that’s whisked to Hollywood just as it’s settling down, with a clumsy competition device where our hero’s unpublished comic is to be turned into a film. Then there’s a half-developed struggle for integrity before the fictional world of ‘Tough Man’ collides with reality to provide us with moral lessons. None of this is bad, although the lyrics are strictly functional, but it’s Talbot who powers the show.

Christopher Ragland and Rob Houchen

Much is made of time and setting – America in 1988 – and the show cleverly cashes in on nostalgia. But the nudges to recollection are superficial, achieved by constantly throwing in references. There’s little effort to make the characters specific either. Their ages are a bit of puzzle and another niggle is ignoring how snobbish comic book geeks can be! It’s unbelievable that they would be so egalitarian with their references. Here it’s the performances that win out. Rob Houchen makes for an appealing lead as Eugene, likewise his love interest Janey and best friend Feris are engagingly performed by Laura Baldwin and Daniel Buckley. The whole cast gets the chance to shine with a lot of dual roles as Eugene’s fantasy connects with real life: Christopher Ragland and Simon Thomas both benefit.

It’s a shame that the love story in Eugenius is so predictable. Comics themselves have been challenging since before people started using the term heteronormative – so it’s odd to end up making fun of something more sophisticated than your own parody. The role of Janey is particularly unsatisfying, no matter how much irony is intended. Thankfully, when it comes to the most important thing – the music – Adams and Wilkins are on firmer ground. They can write a catchy tune and the score coheres well at several points. There’s a nice mix of pastiche and sincerity that offsets a lot of contrived moves. It may be a case of promise rather than something to rave about, but Eugenius deserves success.

Until 21 October 2018

www.eugeniusthemusical.com

Photos by Scott Rylander