Tag Archives: Arthur Hughes

2026

‘Summerfolk’ at the National Theatre

It would be a shock if this production of Maxim Gorky’s classic was traditional. This new version by Nina Raine and Moses Raine updates attitudes, if not the original time or setting. We are presented with a recognisable group of boomers, millennials and Gen Zs. Bringing contemporary attitudes to the piece is predictable. The surprise is that it works so well.

The script is full of fun — the satire even-handed — an important point aided by Robert Hastie’s direction. The ensemble cast are fantastic. It would be easy for Varvara to become the focus, but the generous performance from Sophie Rundle prevents this. Varvara’s husband and his poetess sister (the wealthy boomers) are depicted skilfully by Paul Ready and Doon Mackichan, balancing humour, understanding and disapproval. Successful, slightly seedy author Shalimov is given a tough time that Daniel Lapaine’s portrayal doesn’t hold back on. At least we have Maria Lvovna to look up to: the saintly doctor that Justine Mitchell makes believable.

Maria Lvovna’s romance with the younger Vlass Mikhailich proves a highlight; her wonder over his skin is sweet and sexy. This is an exciting role for the excellent Alex Lawther, who makes the character’s angst powerful. There are laughs from their age gap, but sensitive ones. Youth does well in Summerfolk, with another fine performance from Tamika Bennett as Maria Lvovna’s equally admirable daughter. The affairs are plentiful and often unpleasant; few might blame the dalliance by Yulia Filipovna (Adelle Leonce), as her husband (an excellent turn from Arthur Hughes) is awful. But Brandon Grace’s nuanced performance as the object of her affection provokes thought about their actions.

There’s a lot going on, and it is to director Robert Hastie’s credit that it never feels like a posh soap opera. Something is lost by making the characters feel so modern; Gorky’s political reflections have had to be swept away, and comments from those looking after the seasonal visitors just seem odd. But the combination of luxury, ennui, pretension and desperation are all spot on. The unhappiness isn’t overpowering — it is often performative — but sometimes that feels just as sad. Aided by Peter McKintosh’s luxurious set and costume design, the production is ravishing and easy on the eye. There’s a danger of dismissing these folk — what’s the problem with such a long holiday? But the production controls that frustration cleverly and allows you to feel for them.

Until 29 April 2026

www.nationaltheatre.org.uk

Photo by Johan Persson

2020

“La Cage aux Folles [The Play]” at the Park Theatre

Jean Poiret’s French comedy of manners with a drag twist has never been translated into English before. That’s a surprise given its enormous stage success, along with the two films and hit musical it has spawned. Thankfully, director Jez Bond thought the lack a shame – I agree – and has recruited Simon Callow to produce a script that works a treat.

There are bold decisions behind the production, namely, to make the show gloriously old-fashioned. Time and place – the French Riviera in the early 1970s – are enforced; there’s even a reference to the UK joining the EU. As a result, there are plenty of attitudes that seem archaic. The play makes for an interesting history lesson, if you want one, just in case anyone forgets Drag can be political. And you might find the role of Jacob the servant (which Syrus Lowe tackles well) intriguing. If a lot of the gender politics is worlds away from being “woke”, maybe it’s best to just shrug and feel smug that things are better now.

There’s nothing serious about La Cage aux Folles. It only makes sense to judge it as silly and this is good nonsense. The plot is clear while crazy touches build well. The jokes are good, although in truth it’s the performers rather than the lines that get the laughs. No matter, it’s a fun evening and all the more credit to Bond and his cast.

La Cage aux Folles at the Park Theatre By Jean Poiret. Photo by Mark Douet
Michael Matus and Paul Hunter

Paul Hunter and Michael Matus play the flamboyant couple, performer and owner of the titular nightclub, with assurance. Their insults and rows are enjoyable and both performers make the most of every moment. Arthur Hughes is good as their son, Laurent, whose future marriage drives the plot: it’s a tricky role that needs to introduce an amount of restraint to proceedings. There’s also strong support from Mark Cameron and Simon Hepworth.

The fun doesn’t increase quite as much as you might hope. As our heroes meet their conservative future family, hosting them for a disastrous dinner party, the second act feels skimpy. Female characters get a raw deal. But Hunter and Matus keep up the energy with some quick transformations adding fun. Remarkably, the play manages to escape the shadow of its famous progeny to show itself as a fine farce in its own right.

Until 21 March 2020

www.parktheatre.co.uk

Photos by Mark Douet

2019

"Vassa" at the Almeida Theatre

Mike Bartlett’s adaptation of Maxim Gorky’s 1910 play is a suitably irreverent and darkly funny version of a text with revolution at its heart. About capitalism as much as feminism, it provides a magnificent title role for Siobhán Redmond and a range of grotesque characters for a strong supporting cast to have fun with. Both Bartlett and director Tinuke Craig have a keen eye on entertaining their audience and, although the show is uneven, the production has enough humour to make it a success.

Vassa is as much a mogul as a matriarch. As her husband lies dying upstairs, her concern is to secure the family business by fiddling his will. She has to tackle her useless sons and mendacious brother-in-law, who each want their inheritance, along with their various romances, all of which are problematic. Herding these cats is done with a vicious tongue and a ruthlessness that beggars belief. Every acid line and heartless act is delivered to perfection by Redmond, who makes a brilliant villain.

Since it was revived this summer, you might think of Githa Sowerby’s Rutherford and Son as an English equivalent to Vassa: close in date, with another tyrannical capitalist and questioning economics. But Gorky, via Bartlett, has a more satirical edge that shows venality in many forms. Yet there’s a fussy feeling to the direction that detracts from how forceful the adaptation is. It’s interesting to see Craig play with elements of farce – notably with Fly Davis’ set full of doors – but unfortunately the comings and goings in this conspiratorial household aren’t that well-handled. Bouquets of flowers that cover the floor for the finale are another example: the idea might delight a florist but the blooms become bothersome.

It isn’t quite accurate to say Vassa only cares about money – her legacy plays a part, too. Any case for her as an arch pragmatist is weakened by this (for the better) while abuses of power for its own sake bubble underneath the text. The results allow a depth to her character that might surprise and that Redmond excels with. The relationship with her daughter, played exquisitely by Amber James, proves fascinating. Likewise her affection for her daughter-in-law Dunya, played by Daniella Isaacs, is developed well. More unhappily, the fate of her maid Lipa, superbly performed by Alexandra Dowling, brings home how high the stakes are.

It’s the men in the piece that let the production down. This isn’t quite Bartlett’s fault, or the performers’ – Vassa dominates the play so much that, when she’s off stage, interest plummets. As her sons, Arthur Hughes and Danny Kirrane have characters a touch too hysterical to deal with. And as Vassa’s potential nemesis, Michael Gould’s Prokhor just isn’t enough of a threat. Thankfully, with a lot of judiciously placed swearing, the text is fresh as well as funny. And the attention to detail is great. There’s a brilliant line about an off-stage character, described as “so drunk he fell over his own arm”. Touches like that aren’t just funny – they convey Vassa’s world so vividly that visiting it proves engrossing.

Until 23 November 2019

www.almeida.co.uk

Photo by Marc Brenner