Tag Archives: Adrian Richards

“A Midsummer Night’s Dream” at the Barbican Theatre

Director Eleanor Rhode’s production of Shakespeare’s comedy won rave reviews earlier this year at Stratford-upon-Avon. The show certainly looks great. Designer Lucy Osborne populates a bare stage with enormous bead curtains and huge paper lanterns that form a canvas for Will Duke’s excellent video design and Matt Daw’s accomplished lighting. But, regrettably, while it’s a treat for the eyes, the rest of the play offers little pleasure. I’m confused about all those starry reviews.

Rhode does have great new ideas. There are moments of tension between warring couples (Oberon and Titania, Demetrius and Helena) that show the depth of their relationships. Having Titania’s attendants appear as lights is nice and, like several illusions masterminded by John Bulleid, well executed. There’s also an excellent end to Act 3, Scene 2 when Puck leads the lovers “up and down”. Instead of seeing actors pretending not to notice one another, they appear fleetingly one by one, giving the scene extra energy.

These highlights are exceptions, though, within a production that feels flat. Act 1 doesn’t seem to interest Rhode very much. It’s horribly rushed, with nearly every line coming at breakneck speed, so it is difficult to work out what’s going on. The speed causes lots of problems later, especially for the quartet of Athenian lovers (energetically performed by Nicholas Armfield, Ryan Hutton, Boadicea Ricketts and Dawn Sievewright), who are hard to distinguish from one another or care very much about. 

A-Midsummer-Night-s-Dream-hero-credit-Pamela-Raith

Oddly, delivery becomes slower as the action speeds up. Here, the comedy suffers and the cast struggles (a few actors are breathless). Only Matthew Baynton’s Bottom seems comfortable working at the pace, giving a confident, if broad, performance that is credible enough. A lot of laughs come from the performers’ gestures rather than their lines, which are predictable and not as well delivered as they should be. We’ve all seen ruder and funnier chinks in walls.

Just as big a problem is how one-dimensionally all the characters are depicted. Might we feel a little sorry for Bottom, or even repulsed by him? Baynton’s version is strictly for laughs. His fellow hempen homespuns fade into the background (although there are nice nods to horror films in their play within the play). Even Adrian Richards makes more of a mark as Philostrate (he’s the Master of the Revels). 

Worst of all are the fairies, who should provide fascination, typified by Katherine Pearce’s Puck. Pearce presents an amiable character (and she has a lovely singing voice), but there’s no mischief and certainly no sense of danger about the role. Of course, there doesn’t have to be. Not every reading of the play needs to take literary theory into account. But losing any thrill or mystery is a mistake. For all the characters, there’s too much nuance lost. This dream is not a nightmare, but it’s forgettable.

Until 18 January 2025

www.barbican.org.uk

Photos by Pamela Raith

“The Suicide” at the National Theatre

There are some interesting ideas lurking within Suhayla El-Bushra’s new version of Nikolai Erdman’s comedy. The basis is brilliant – when a man announces he will take his own life he becomes hounded by those looking to use his death for their own ends. You might guess that the production updates the action to modern-day London (doesn’t everything?). More surprisingly, the satirical target is moved from Soviet Russia, not to the greed and inequality in our own times, but to left-leaning well- meaning folk. And El-Bushra replaces the State with social media – a neat move that offers insight and great satirical potential (after all, you can’t exaggerate online excess). Unfortunately, neither of these twists actually makes the play funnier than its original premise.

Mocking a desperate group of people living on a council estate is in questionable taste, aside from coming close to sitcom or reality TV show territory. More importantly, the treatment just isn’t witty enough. The script has a few risqué jokes but hardly any big laughs and a reliance on bad language for punchlines that is offensive in being so lazy. Director Nadia Fall doesn’t help, using a great-looking set (by Ben Stones) in a cumbersome manner and adding music and dance – presumably to appeal to a young audience – that may be good, but slows things down. There are frantic scenes, which the cast are well choreographed for, but the energy is wasted as stops and starts ruin the pace.

The collection of stereotypes that come to hassle our hero Sam aren’t all badly written. There’s a café-owning ex-PR girl, a teacher-performance-poet, local councillor, mental health worker, an old friend trying to hide an affair and assorted local youths. It’s a long play. All look for Sam to take the blame for something and to make a ‘statement’. But there’s an inverse relationship between characters where the satire has real bite, such as a despicable documentary filmmaker, and disappointing performances. Jokes are wasted with one-note delivery. Then some strong comic potential (Lizzie Winkler and Ayesha Antoine) isn’t given enough to do. It’s tempting to see an element of bad luck for El-Bushra here.

My intention was attend the scheduled press night, which was then postponed due to the indisposition of the lead, Javone Prince – surely the biggest misfortune for the show. However, the poorly presented main character is reduced to little more than a foolish bore, while scenes of Sam’s home life with his wife (a hard-working Rebecca Scroggs) and mother-in-law (the always excellent Ashley McGuire) achieve little. Yet the role was a triumph for Prince’s understudy, Adrian Richards, who gave a performance that has made me want to post this review despite it being, strictly speaking, about a preview. Richards’ comic timing is among the best of the night and he managed to give Sam a lost, youthful, appeal. Richards’ valiant efforts lifted the atmosphere for the whole evening. Luck at last, but little to do with the show’s actual merits.

Until 25 June 2016

www.nationaltheatre.org.uk

Photo by Johan Persson