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“The Little Foxes” at the Young Vic Theatre

Family dramas don’t come sharper than this. Lillian Hellman’s classic about the business affairs of the Hubbard siblings brims with tension in Lyndsey Turner’s production. A stunning cast does justice to quality writing, making this a real cracker of a show.

Leading the action is the ever-excellent Anne-Marie Duff, who plays the formidable Regina. There’s subtlety as well as high emotion in Duff’s portrayal of this desperate woman, who is ruthless, but perhaps not quite as competent as she might believe. While it’s hard to take your eyes of Regina, Duff and Turner are too good to make her the sole focus.

The men who come up against Regina’s plotting are excellent. Her two brothers – played by Mark Bonnar and Steffan Rhodri – are a great exercise in compare and contrast, showing two chilling sides of the business world. Does Benjamin’s cool pragmatism or Oscar’s stubbornness and stupidity scare you more? And there are two roles for John Light to excel in. Very neat casting has him double as a potential business partner and then transform into Regina’s dying husband. In both cases, it’s his money everyone is after, but Light gives the two characters startling depth.

John-Light-in-The-Little-Foxes-credit-Johan-Persson
John Light

Turner moves the play away from its original turn-of-the-century setting. Instead of 1900, Lizzie Clachan’s design is late 1960s, with some of the costumes sneaking into the 1970s. Tingying Dong’s sound design is very ‘now’, with some great choral arrangements from composer Phillippe Cato. There are, subsequently, incongruous mentions of horse-drawn carriages along with some very dated attitudes. And it makes the status of the African American servants (further excellent performances from Andrea Davy and Freddie MacBruce) something of a puzzle. Presumably the intention is to bring the audience up short, to move us away from comfy period piece and illustrate how enduring these concerns about big business are.

With the fictional family described as “locusts” more than once, it’s easy to see a critique of capitalism in Hellman’s work. There are nods to how greed impacts a whole community. Arguably, though, there is a cautious conservatism driving this – the motivation is more about taking care than any radical critique. 

It is the impact on the family that is at the heart of The Little Foxes. Throughout the play, Regina’s sister-in-law acts as a foil, being from a wealthy old family, now imprisoned in a loveless marriage. It’s a tricky role that Anna Madeley excels in, creating a sympathetic character and revealing alcoholism with super skill. As the play progresses, Regina’s young daughter comes to the fore. How will what she has seen shape her? So final praise goes to Eleanor Worthington-Cox, who takes this role so capably, moving centre stage, showing her character’s development and providing the play’s thrilling final moments.

Until 8 February 2025

www.youngvic.org

Photos by Johan Persson

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“Les Blancs” from NTLive

Although unfinished at her death in 1965, and in a production that’s four years old, Lorraine Hansberry’s play feels more urgent than ever. Questioning the perceived price of African lives, the legacy of imperialism and featuring the death of a black man in police custody, it is depressingly topical in this summer of Black Lives Matter protests.

Yaël Farber’s strong production doesn’t suit filming – that happens sometimes. The slower pace, which can work in a theatre, makes watching online tedious. Several scene changes, which use the theatre’s revolve well, dampen the script’s considerable tension on screen. That Hansberry wrote a thrilling play with plenty of action is a little lost.

Thankfully, even on film the strong characters and performances still shine. The ‘Whites’ of the title, running a missionary hospital in an unspecified African country, are well developed by James Fleet and Anna Madeley. And a visiting journalist – a little too close to a device to provide an American perspective – is played with passion by Elliot Cowan. A magnificent role for Siân Phillips, the wife of the Mission’s pastor who everyone is waiting to show up, illustrates the complexities of colonialism in a moving fashion.

LES BLANCS The National Theatre, 2016 photo Johan Persson
Siân Phillips and Danny Sapani

Three brothers, torn by the conflict for independence, provide drama of an epic nature that results in fantastic acting. Gary Beadle’s Abioseh is about to become a priest, while “mixed up” Eric, a powerful role for Tunji Kasim, wants to go to war. The focus is Tshembe, now established in Europe but “ravaged” by his responsibilities. Which path will he take?

Danny Sapani takes the part of this intellectual and reluctant revolutionary with a clear understanding that this is a unique kind of hero. Sapani shows Tshembe’s intelligence and humanity, making him interesting and appealing. But he is also aloof and dangerous. The tragic outcome is one of the most shocking you can imagine.

The brutal ending of Les Blancs shows its real strength lies in Hansberry’s unflinching bravery. Many scenes featuring Clive Francis’ bigoted Major Rice are difficult to watch, no matter how well they work dramatically. But, with Hansberry’s forensic arguments, the play is also bold. The exploitation of colonialism is easy to see, but what about the idea of the missionary sense of fulfilment also being at the expense of Africans? The play’s obsession with “reason”, easily contrasted with tradition, and a flirtation with violence (let alone nods to Marxism) are startling and powerful. 

Available until Wednesday 8 July2020

To support, visit nationaltheatre.org.uk

Photos by Johann Persson

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“The Height of the Storm”at Wyndham’s Theatre

The new hit from French playwright Florian Zeller, translated as usual by Christopher Hampton, treads familiar ground. It intelligently manipulates audience expectations and is expertly theatrical– to his credit, you can’t imagine Zeller’s work in any other medium. As with hisprevious play, The Father, dementia and the impact on a family of that awful disease are the subject matter. But the love story of a devoted couple, André and Madeleine, one of whom dies, means The Height of the Storm can mine the  depths of even more emotion.

Zeller’s writing seems a gift to directors, and Jonathan Kent’s work here is faultless and attractive to performers. Amanda Drew and Anna Madeley play the daughters of the piece impeccably, never overstating their characters’ differences. And there are two strong performances from James Hillier and Lucy Cohu as strangers who flit between supporting and threatening the family. But the play belongs to André and Madeleine, played by Jonathan Pryce and Eileen Atkins – two masterclasses not to be missed. Pryce gives a tender performance detailing the fears of old age, while Atkins magnificently develops her role’s carefully revealed depths. Together their devotion as a couple is utterly convincing and incredibly moving.

While set in Zeller’s typically sophisticated milieu (André is a man of letters and Anthony Ward’s design of his house is retro-boho-chic), the rawness of grief removes us from the urbane characters that can sometimes feel foreign in his plays. The twist is a painful one – we don’t really know whether it’s André or Madeleine who has died. The confusion isn’t just because of André’s dementia. When the couple talk to one another it isn’t clear if the scene is a flashback or a grief-stricken fantasy, and they both refer to the other dying. So, Zeller presents us with both scenarios and the awful question of what would be ‘best’ arises – for you or your partner to die first? And which of your parents could cope best on their own?

Some may find Zeller’s approach opaque, but his skill at crafting the confusion is brilliant. The Height of the Storm opens up a debate about the end of our lives that is urgent and, in privileging the perspective of the elderly, an important contribution. We are taken to the heart of the drama and the issue at the same time and asked to confront both in a personal fashion. The finale emphasises the couple’s love. It reminds us of their agency as well as what is at stake. And, if you haven’t been crying already, you will be by the end.

Until 1 December 2018

www.theheightofthestorm.com

Photos by Hugo Glendinning

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“Les Blancs” at the National Theatre

Lorraine Hansberry’s ambitious play, unfinished at the time of her early death, has been polished to perfection for director Yaël Farber’s stirring production. Combining theatrical realism with a yen for Greek theatre that makes the Olivier auditorium a perfect venue, this is a political drama that goes to the dark heart of human nature.

There’s a lot going on and the play is long. A white reporter and a returning local chief’s son arrive in an unspecified African country under colonial rule and become embroiled in a struggle for independence, trapped by their sense of responsibility – one to write a truthful story, the other to fight for freedom.

This isn’t a new play, so, the arguments against colonialism and exploitation are depressingly familiar. It’s in the debates intelligent presentation that the work becomes urgent while the passionate delivery makes the production excellent. The Whites of the title are impressively nuanced: centred around a hospital, doctors (engaging performances from James Fleet and Anna Madeley) wait for the return of their missionary leader, along with his wife, a magisterial role for Siân Phillips. Their opinions leak out under the journalistic gaze of Mr. Morris. In an angry performance by Elliot Cowan how much Morris has in common with the well intentioned Westerners is clear, but there’s a suspicion more subtlety could be plumbed.

The focus is the story of Tshembe Matoseh, a reluctant rebel fighter, “ravaged” by history, superbly portrayed by Danny Sapani. His two brothers (well delineated by Tunji Kasim and Gary Beadle) provide more perspective on the complexity of colonial rule. The anger and violence that overwhelms their family is firmly controlled by Hansberry’s text. A non-speaking woman, depicted impressively by Sheila Atim, accompanies Tshembe, allegorically adding to his burden, and the his inevitable descent into a tragic, you might say biblical, crime is shocking.

With all the argument in the play – several long speeches that could easily have defeated less able actors – it is a triumph that Farber has created such a theatrical and emotive show. Aided by Xhosa singers and Soutra Gilmour’s impressive set, we get not just politics but epic drama.

Until 2 June 2016

www.nationaltheatre.org.uk

Photo by Johan Persson

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“The Turn of the Screw” at the Almeida Theatre

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You know that a ghost story works if it makes you jump. I can faithfully report that Rebecca Lenkiewicz’s new adaptation of Henry James’ classic story, The Turn of Screw, elicited from this reviewer a couple of good gasps, a genuine shudder and one squeal so pronounced that the Almeida Theatre should really think about planting me in the audience for subsequent performances.

James’ novella about a governess going to care for two children, who it seems are haunted by former staff members, is a subtle work. Any adaptation is going to blunt the original but here the payoff in terms of entertainment provides justification. Lenkiewicz opts to emphasise the psychosexual content, which won’t be to all tastes. But this decision adds to the drama, and the thrills, in a logical enough fashion.

The direction from Lindsay Posner is efficient and all the performances competent, with an admirable star turn from Anna Madeley as the governess. But it’s Peter McKintosh’s impressive design, with creepy sounds from John Leonard and moody lighting from Tim Mitchell, which really makes the night. The spooky atmosphere may not be subtle but, then again, nor is screaming during a show – it’s good fun though.


Until 16 March 2013

www.almeida.co.uk

Photo by Nobby Clark

Written 28 January 2013 for The London Magazine

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“Becky Shaw” at the Almeida Theatre

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It’s too early in the year to say that Becky Shaw will turn out to be the funniest play of 2011, but it’s a tempting predication to make. Suffice to say, Becky Shaw is the funniest play you will have seen in a long time.

Director Peter DuBois has travelled from America with the show. You can tell he knows the piece inside out – the direction is as sharp as the lines: clean, taut and getting the best out of this wonderfully witty script. Gina Gionfriddo’s tale of social mores and her heroine’s impact on the lives of one family is packed full of great lines. But as well as sharp social observation, Gionfriddo’s artfully unfolding plot opens up a delicious debate about love in modern times.

The cast seems to be having as much fun as the audience. A magisterial matriarch, played by Haydn Gwynne on fantastic form, has raised her children with an eye to the pragmatic. The ironic result is that her daughter Suzanna (Anna Madeley) spouts the kind of psychobabble we all love to laugh at and ends up married to an indie rock kid. This is an exquisite parody and Vincent Montuel’s wide-eyed approach makes his character’s earnestness hilarious: this youth’s so sensitive that “pornography makes him cry”.

Meanwhile Suzanna is also under the influence of her adopted brother Max whose maxim is that, “Love is a happy by-product of use”. Setting him up on a blind date comes with the understated warning that, “his coarse delivery belies a rich interior life”. There is much to dislike in Max and at times it’s a joy to hate him, but he’s so sharp he gains your admiration. This is a wonderful performance from David Wilson Barnes, close to perfection and a privilege to watch.

Into the family mix comes Becky. Inspired by Thackeray’s heroine in Vanity Fair, she opens a lid on the other characters’ damaged lives and throws in her own neuroses as well. Manipulative or just victimised? It’s up to you, but Daisy Haggard’s performance is so achingly funny you can’t help warm to her. For all the havoc she causes, we are grateful. We love Becky Shaw.

www.almeida.co.uk

Until 5 March 2011

Photo by Hugo Glendinning

Written 21 January 2011 for The London Magazine

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“Earthquakes in London”at the National Theatre

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Of the several excellent productions this summer from the Headlong Theatre Company, none has created quite the buzz of Earthquakes in London at the National Theatre’s Cottesloe auditorium.

Headlong’s star director Rupert Goold takes charge. While Broadway gave his production of Enron a drubbing, London loves Goold – and rightly so. A director of great style, his bag of theatrical tricks belies a precise hand adept at delivering unforgettable shows. Goold brings all his invention and courage to Earthquakes in London. He has to – Mike Bartlett’s play could easily have seemed unstageable.

Creating a time-travelling story of environmental apocalypse, Bartlett flirts with the past and future, but his play is really about the present – a condemning vision of our apathy and arrogance. Unashamedly political, if occasionally obtuse, the passion displayed is admirable. Akin to the National’s production of Rattigan’s After the Dance, the question that frustrates and angers is how society can carry on the party in the face of catastrophe.

Bartlett’s uncanny gift for characterisation shows his skill as a writer. While the wry observations on modern life are sometimes predictable, they can seldom be argued with and if the scope of his ambition doesn’t always pay off, his emotional insight creates a recognisable world of believable people.

Lia Williams is brilliant as Sarah, a newly appointed Lib Dem minister struggling with the conflict between her ideals and power. Lia has brought up her sisters: Jasmine (Jessica Raine) has ended up as a “natural disaster”, angry as only a post baby boomer can be, while heavily pregnant Freya (Anna Madeley) is given a haunting depiction that matches this harrowing role.

A massive cast live their lives around these women. Even their husbands, both men in crisis and played wonderfully by Tom Goodman-Hill and Geoffrey Streatfield fail to connect with them. Their father Robert (Bill Patterson) is a prophet whose vision of the future removes him from his family and provides this bleak play’s most exigent moments. Always surprising, Earthquakes in London is an epic with the most unusual hero as Bryony Hannah excels in two roles that show her enviable versatility.

But the stars of the show are designer Miriam Buether and the technical team at the National Theatre. Transforming the Cottesloe to an unprecedented extent makes the night exciting from the start. Performing amongst the crowd and in two pillbox stages at either end allows the breakneck speed required. It provides memorable tableaux and builds up connections that add further to an already rich work. The evening is often overwhelming, but it is never confusing. This is compulsive viewing that will run amok in the mind for a long time to come.

Until 22 September 2010

www.nationaltheatre.org.uk

Photo by Manuel Harlan

Written 5 August 2010 for The London Magazine