Tag Archives: Almedia Theatre

“1536” at the Almeida Theatre

Ava Pickett’s new play uses the popular fascination with the Tudors to good effect. The year of the title is, as you might remember from your history lessons, when Anne Boleyn was executed by Henry VIII. But instead of the Royal Court, Pickett looks at a small village in Essex, far removed from events, with three women who are friends and (approximately) working class.

The focus gives the piece just enough originality. And it allows it to be speculative. We know little about lives such as these, so some modern sensibilities can be injected without too much trouble. Which is not to say the play isn’t well researched – it’s convincing how information gets through to the women, as is their awareness of how their society, and their status, is shifting.

Pickett’s dialogue is good. Avoiding ‘thee’ and ‘thou’ makes the characters sound fresh and easily relatable. And there’s plenty of humour: pointing out the “loads of paperwork” in Henry’s divorce is great (although there is a reliance on expletives to get laughs). Director Lyndsey Turner’s staging adds energy, too, with quick, cinematic scenes and bold colours from Jack Knowles’ lighting design.

As you might guess, the year in question is used to examine the patriarchy. It’s interesting to note striking similarities with another strong play, Julia Grogan’s Playfight, which also has a trio of very different young women and details a struggle that seems to have changed less than you would hope. But as there isn’t much to argue with, no matter how well it’s all presented, there aren’t many surprises here.

One interesting twist is that Pickett provides a close study of how attitudes change. Jane’s flirtatious cheekiness falls out of “fashion” as the play progresses. As men lose their sense of humour, the women suffer – and they warn each other to change their behaviour to keep with the times. It’s a thought-provoking observation that builds dramatic tension effectively, if not subtly.

There are also touches of the soap opera here: affairs, pregnancy and violence are all added at speed. The action comes close to getting out of hand, but strong performances and well-written characters save the night. Sienna Kelly takes the lead as Jane, barely off the stage and excellent in every scene. Liv Hill and Tanya Reynolds offer superb support, the detail in their depictions aiding the writing. All added together, 1536 proves a year to remember.

Until 7 June 2025

www.almeida.co.uk

Photo by Helen Murray

“The Years” at the Harold Pinter Theatre

This welcome transfer from the Almeida Theatre is a bold addition to the West End. Adapted by Eline Arbo from the work of Annie Ernaux in an English version by Stephanie Bain, it is an unapologetically highbrow piece that challenges its audience. And it’s, very, very, French. Ernaux is a public intellectual, the type you really only get across the channel. The inheritance of Proust, her work is steeped in politics and sociology. 

The Years is also moving and surprisingly entertaining. The strategy of employing five performers – Deborah Findlay, Romola Garai, Gina McKee, Anji Mohindra and Harmony Rose-Bremner – is a genius move. They all tell Ernaux’s story together, while there’s also a sense that they are telling the story of many women… albeit clever French women born just after World War II. The themes of memory and mortality, as the play takes us through a life, are extremely powerful.

Ernaux’s writing is taut and direct, and both the adaptation and Arbo’s direction do it justice. Discussions of desire are frank, there is a lot of frustration and masturbation. A scene of a backstreet abortion became notorious during its first run and is, indeed, remarkable (Garai’s performance in this scene is, literally, stunning). But every moment of the play is considered. As each cast member travels through time, there are detailed touches and moments everyone can recognise.

The Years isn’t perfect. Taking on so many roles falls flat once or twice, although Findlay and McKee are great as small boys. And the humour is repetitive. Sensual moments are fantastic, but too often the sex gets giggles (would the French find it funny?). The music (Thijs van Vuure) and movement used in the piece are hit and miss, leading to both the strongest and weakest moments. Arguably, the biggest flaw comes with notions of class, more of a concern for Ernaux than you’d think from this show. Our heroine’s background is murky; we go big on the historic repression of women but not so much on how it relates to social status.

Balancing a “collective consciousness” with a particular experience is tricky. There are a lot of dates here. A potted history is all too common on stage and, even if delivered well, is seldom effective. Likewise, the device of family photographs, which structures the show, while leading to a fabulous finale as the performers’ faces are filmed live (and illustrates the strength of Juul Dekker’s set design) is a touch overplayed. Ernaux’s intellectual curiosity is ferocious, her focus intense and the roots of both are complex. Maybe the highest praise for the production is that it preserves so much of her brilliance. 

Until 19 April 2025

www.theyearsplay.com

Photos by Helen Murray

“Cat on a Hot Tin Roof” at the Almeida Theatre

Director Rebecca Frecknall is an expert in staging Tennessee Williams’ plays. While her acclaimed production of A Streetcar Named Desire, which also started in this Islington venue, is due back in the West End in February, this latest revival deserves similar success. Frecknall appreciates the tenor of each piece, marking this one by its force. There is a violence to the language, more tense than poetic, that is undoubtedly powerful.

There’s star casting… if that’s your thing. Kingsley Ben-Adir and Daisy Edgar-Jones take the roles of Brick and Maggie, whose failed marriage we watch. Ben-Adir is an excellent stage drunk (essential here) and gives a cleverly passive performance as the former sports star drinking himself into oblivion. Edgar-Jones makes her character bravely unsympathetic, taking care that we don’t feel sorry for Maggie. There’s a little too much shouting, especially considering Maggie’s paranoia about being overheard, and Edgar-Jones’ physicality isn’t quite convincing (might she be a little young for the role?), but she is suitably formidable and an engaging stage presence.

Maggie and Brick’s dilemma is a good deal simpler than some of the drama in Williams’ classics. The arguments are fraught and drag a little. The wider family dynamics, including the drama surrounding Brick’s father, are interesting but also repetitious. It is Lennie James’ superb performance as ‘Big Daddy’ that elevates the long act between father and son, while the complexity Clare Burt adds to her role as ‘Big Momma’ lights up her scenes. With both of these experienced performers, some of Williams’ humour is allowed through – tricky but welcome.

Cat-on-a-Hot-Tin-Roof-at-the-Almeida-Theatre
Seb Carrington and Lennie James

Frecknall focuses on Brick, who is barely off stage. His trauma around the death of his best friend Skipper provides the play’s emotional content and leads to a lot of talk about truth and lies. Ben-Adir gets credit for angst and is aided by an accompanying pianist with a suitably discordant score from Angus MacRae. Seb Carrington takes this additional, non-speaking part and, as the action progresses it becomes clear that he is a ghostly Skipper. Carrington is excellent, strangely ethereal and an unforgettable presence.

Probably like most of the audience, the production is in no doubt that Brick and Skipper’s relationship was romantic. Williams’ notes in the text itself are more elastic, and it might surprise that a 2023 production doesn’t lean into that ambiguity. But the result is certainly anguished. This is a tortured affair – and great drama. Coming soon to the Almeida is a Eugene O’Neill play, it will be exciting to see what Frecknall makes of another American great.  

Until 1 February 2025

www.alemida.co.uk

Photos by Marc Brenner

“Cold War” at the Almeida Theatre

All the tragic romance in Paweł Pawlikowski’s 1998 film is present in this adaptation from Conor McPherson, directed by Rupert Goold. The story of two musicians, Wiktor and Zula, separated by the titular conflict when he defects to France, is intense; from passion filled first meeting, to damaging co-dependency, and a depressing finale.

Cold War is a play with music rather than a musical but there are a lot of songs. Under the musical direction of Jo Cichonska the show sounds great. First there are folk songs: Wiktor is collecting them with his lover Irene (a superb performance from Alex Young) when he meets Zula. The traditional music is re-arranged throughout the show to great effect. But we also get new compositions from Elvis Costello. It’s all interesting and subtle, complimenting and commenting on action rather than being the focus.

Elliot Levey, Alex Young and Luke Thallon
Elliot Levey, Alex Young and Luke Thallon

There’s more than the lovers to consider. Questions of art as propaganda and the role of nationalism follow our musicians, most notably in the form of Kaczmarek, a character Elliot Levy skilfully develops from party apparatchik to impresario. The big themes are thin at times, the politics cursory. But there’s plenty to think about and Goold powers through. Then there’s a lot of talk of freedom – how that relates to creativity. So, we’re very much in tortured artist territory. Wiktor and Zula want to do something new and become frustrated.

As trigger warnings state, the outcome for the couple is awful. There are efforts not to glamorise what happens. Wiktor and Zula make interesting anti-heroes that challenge how stylish the production is. Paule Constable’s excellent lighting design has seductive moments (such sexy spotlights) but also harsh clinical glares. Goold is too smart to make the show a straightforward tearjerker – credit to him – but it is odd programming for the festive season.

It’s with the lead performances, from Anya Chalotra and Luke Thallon, that the show really succeeds. Thallon conveys his character’s pain cleverly – Wiktor is a man who hides much. Chalotra is a revelation, full of humour and magnetism while showing a mania that the role requires. She has a sweet voice, and, even tougher, has to sing badly at times (oh, and they both do drunk very well). The couple have a marvellously natural way about them, and for a lot of the time you believe they have fun together. Neither passion nor antagonism are overplayed. Chalotra and Thallon make sure you never quite know what’s going to happen. They make the show exciting and provide a highlight in what might otherwise be just too grim.

Until 27 January 2024

www.almeida.co.uk

Photos by Marc Brenner

“Three Sisters” at the Almeida Theatre

Cordelia Lynn’s new version of Chekhov’s masterpiece is bold and fresh to the point of being revelatory. Lynn enforces the play’s bleakness, with plenty of espousals that life is pointless, yet presents us with a perky trio who are approachable, recognisable and funny. There’s no shying away from the fact that Chekhov’s heroines have an air of the elite; you might ask them to check their privilege. But Lynn makes the struggles of each – in love and work, with the health of all three suffering – relatable, thought-provoking and moving.

Taking the three iconic sisters way past stereotype is not an easy task. Lynn’s muscular dialogue is well served by three performers who are excellent; it’s pleasingly impossible to single out either Pearl Chanda, Patsy Ferran or Ria Zmitrowicz, who all work well together. It’s fantastic to see how funny each can be in each character’s own particular way. Note the difference with the role of their sister-in-law, vividly portrayed Lois Chamimba, which comes into focus wonderfully: she’s a character we laugh at rather than with. Lynn has done justice to the play’s male characters, too. Her version retains some dignity for Elliot Levey’s cuckolded teacher, has sympathy (more than I) for the sister’s brother that Freddie Meredith does well with and uses Alan Williams’ Doctor to further focus themes. The role of Irena’s suitor is the big surprise, though; the character’s optimism comes to the fore as a foil… for a while. It’s a bonanza for Shubham Saraf, who takes the part.

Shubham Saraf and Ria Zmitrowicz

With superb performances and an exciting text, reservations risk sounding trivial, as they become matters of taste rather than criticism. The usually excellent designer Hildegard Bechtler has left the show looking a touch too modish. While not specifically updated or relocated, these three sisters are out of time and place, no matter how often Moscow is mentioned so all the mismatched chairs and Anglepoise lamps, along with the final scene played on bare ground (a big effort for little result), make the aesthetic too contemporary. And might director Rebecca Frecknall’s work also be a touch heavy handed? It’s easy to see the temptation. Several scenes are “all a bit strange”, with moments of staccato delivery and portentousness. Maybe Lynn, like the character Masha, is impatient with the “talk talk talk” in the play – she brings out ideas with sometimes blunt directness. Perhaps Frecknall should have tried to inject more subtlety? Alternatively, she reflects Lynn’s forcefulness and does justice to her vision. It’s a fine line that makes for a pleasing debate.

Until 2 June 2019

www.almeida.co.uk

Photo by Marc Brenner