Tag Archives: Celia Imrie

“Backstroke” at the Donmar Warehouse

This new play, written and directed by Anna Mackmin, works hard but comes too close to being hard work. Performances from superstars Celia Imrie and Tamsin Greig make it a must-see, but it’s hard to escape the idea that without them patience would run short.

Looking back at the relationship of mother and daughter, Beth and Bo, after the former has a stroke, is a powerful story. But then, why wouldn’t it be? Much of the action is set on a deathbed.

Mackmin tries to avoid sentimentality, but her writing, like the subject, is heavy. The production isn’t helped by unnecessary filmed vignettes that accompany the action, a kind of internal dialogue for Bo that includes her own troubled daughter (and lots of screaming).

These are strong characters, interesting and well-performed, but are they a touch too eccentric to believe? This old hippy and her ambitious daughter have a complicated relationship. It’s revealed that Beth’s mental health has always been a problem and Bo has suffered as a result. Be warned: some jokes come close to the bone.

Beth also suffers from dementia and Mackmin’s depiction of this is more poetic than realistic. Credit to Imrie for the delivery, which must be extremely difficult. A loss of inhibition, mood swings and anger are all ticked off. But I’m not so sure about the malapropisms. Bo still makes sense a lot of the time, her repetition is haunting, but her search for words comes too close to funny.

Mackmin’s topic of motherhood is clear enough. If you’re in doubt, Bo’s adoption of Skylar brings the theme home (we only see this other damaged character on screen until the very end). Bo is finding parenting so hard that she admits she wants to give her daughter back. It’s a brave confession that needs more exploring to convince.

Backstroke-at-the-Donmar
Anita Reynolds, Lucy Briers and Georgina Rich

There are problems, too, when it comes to the hospital staff, a trio that are well-performed but close to stereotyped. From Georgina Rich’s aloof consultant to two very different nurses (Lucy Briers and Anita Reynolds), we are prepared for a debate about end-of-life care that doesn’t really take off.

Nonetheless, going back and forth in time is a boon for the performers, who really do impress. The focus shifts to the question of “how to die” and, if the swimming metaphor is laboured, the films become better, and our perception of Beth is cleverly modulated. It’s still too long, though, and a memorial speech by Bo pushes us into weepy territory. I’m not sure, given this subject matter, that reducing your audience to tears is really a big achievement.

Until 12 April 2025

www.donmarwarehouse.com

Photograph by Johan Persson

“King Lear” at the Old Vic

Returning to the stage after working as an MP for 23 years, Glenda Jackson’s decision to take the title role in Shakespeare’s tragedy has made this show hotly anticipated. It’s something of a relief, then, to report that the Oscar-winning actress gives a commanding performance. Her Lear may not be the most emotional, but it is subtle and intelligent. No time is wasted debating the gender blind casting – she’s doing Lear, get over it – the delivery sounds fantastic while pathos and power build masterfully. As if confirmation were needed, it’s clear Jackson is not afraid to take risks, showing a surprising element of mischievousness during the most painful scenes.

A stellar line-up joins Jackson, but nobody challenges her eminence – which is not surprising, but perhaps a little disappointing? Too many cast members seem burdened by ideas from director Deborah Warner. There are great performances from Celia Imrie and Jane Horrocks (Goneril and Regan). But overall there’s a tendency to try too hard to make a mark: case in points are Simon Manyonda’s yoga-posing Edmond, Morfydd Clark’s over-earnest Cordelia and a misguided choice of accent for Sargon Yelda’s Kent. Harry Melling holds his own as Edgar, despite a ridiculous bin-bag nappy. Rhys Ifans is less successful with his Superman costume for the Fool. There’s more to his role than being funny, of course, but some lines are supposed to tickle us – instead Ifans eats a raw egg to get attention.

With a set of projections and black rubber sheeting, designed by Warner with Jean Kalman, there are plenty of clever moves and gory touches (watch out for flying eyeballs) that provide excitement. But abandoned, surely deliberately, is a sense of a society – when and where all this is taking place. Warner wants to deal with abstracts, which is her prerogative, and some of the play’s themes do gain when treated in this way (the lust for power is seen more starkly without a context). But surely a trick is missed in making this King Lear feel outside politics? More concerning, drama is distinctly lacking as a sense of predestination comes to the fore. It’s admirable that no laurels were sat on, but attempts to make this more than Glenda Jackson’s show don’t quite work.

Until 3 December 2016

www.oldvictheatre.com

Photo by Manuel Harlan