Tag Archives: Donmar Warehouse

“Splendour” at the Donmar Warehouse

Abi Morgan’s play imagines a strained meeting between a dictator’s wife and her best friend, while they wait with a photographer and interpreter for a portrait shoot that’s running late. The location is an unspecified imitation democracy on the brink of civil war. It’s not a bad setup to explore politics and art, and Morgan does both with insight. The fact that all four characters are women makes a welcome change.

Morgan’s style might rankle some: the characters voice their inner thoughts and memories, while scenes are repeated, at different speeds with cuts to the dialogue. Remarkably, Morgan makes the play easy to follow and, for my money, the technique is a success. Knowing what someone is thinking, hearing them play with the presentation of events, alongside confusion over language in a very literal sense (the photographer doesn’t speak the local tongue), enforces unspoken communication and inner turmoil marvellously.

Genevieve-OReilly-Kathryn-in-Splendour-at-the-Donmar-Warehouse-photo-by-Johan-Persson-700x455
Genevieve O’Reilly

The four strong roles have attracted four great performers. The outsiders on the scene are Genevieve O’Reilly, who plays the hard-nosed photographer, managing to make this cool observer compelling, and Zawe Ashton, who acts as her interpreter, with an eye on the make. Ashton’s role is tough – she has to show us the desperation of regular people living in this toppling state, and this is done without making her seem a device. But the really interesting dynamic is that between Sinéad Cusack and Michelle Fairley, the president’s dolled-up wife, who might just be the power behind the throne, and her browbeaten best friend. Both actresses give tremendous performances.

Splendour has a simple plot that, a little like the characters, comes close to predictable. But what Morgan does with her, often startling, technique is the real source of interest. If all the stopping and starting of scenes sounds a little pretentious, the structure and rhythm of the text has a very down-to-earth function – to create tension. Weapons sound, but in the distance, specifics of time and place are never mentioned and no politicians or revolutionaries, as such, appear on stage. Yet Morgan has created a unique… OK then… splendid, political thriller of great originality.

Until 26 September 2015

www.donmarwarehouse.com

Photos by Johan Persson

“Temple” at the Donmar Warehouse

An exercise in erudition, Steve Water’s fictional account of 2011’s Occupy London movement is accomplished but unsatisfying. Remember how a cluster of tents formed outside St Paul’s? Water’s focus isn’t on those camping – you learn little of their political aims or ambitions – but on those running the cathedral and how they feel about their unwanted guests. It’s an angle that might strike one as oblique. And, while the central dilemma – hinging on a Dean asked to put his duty above what he may actually feel – is interesting enough, the play is stubbornly devoid of tension. Scenes of intelligent talking heads (I could have done with a dictionary) make Temple feel like a worthy radio play. The idea of the meeting chamber, where all the action takes place, as a “panic room” is almost laughable, given the lack of excitement.

The show is saved by the central performance of Simon Russell Beale as the Dean, convincing us of his turmoil as a good man blessed with a prodigious amount of self-knowledge. Unfortunately, the Bishop of London and his too obvious counterpart, a radical Canon, are sketchily drawn – one too comic, the other overly sincere – for Malcolm Sinclair and Paul Higgins to show us their talents. Likewise the role of a secretary on her first day in the job is a crude device that Rebecca Humphries struggles valiantly with. The central problem is the tenet of Church as ‘the establishment’. Although such presumed power is questioned, by the time a couple of choir boys come in to cheer the Dean up, it’s all too much like something from Anthony Trollope. Religion’s shaky relevance to lives today makes for a stumbling block that Waters doesn’t get over.

Until 25 July 2015

www.donmarwarehouse.com

Photo by Johan Persson

“Henry IV” at the Donmar Warehouse

The Donmar’s all-female production of Julius Caesar was one of the theatrical highlights of last year. Now director Phyllida Lloyd returns with Henry IV, set once again in a women’s prison. An amalgam of Henry IV Parts I and II, the text is performed by the ‘inmates’, making this two plays in one in more than one sense, since we have Shakespeare and also the staging of Shakespeare. It’s layered, obviously, but what makes the production fascinating is the weight given to the prisoners’ own staging – is it the focus or just an addition? The question is open for the audience.

Henry IV is a riveting evening, not least because you want to know what has been done to the text. But it starts out dreadfully. With a nod to the trend for immersive theatre, the audience waits over the road in the Seven Dials Club, where you can use the bar and the loo (don’t forget this – there’s no interval and the show is two hours plus) before walking over the road and entering via the back stairs. Punch Drunk it ain’t. Although a few prison posters threaten punishment for those using phones – incarceration is too good for them after all – the whole effort seems feeble.

Once the acting starts, Henry IV is magnificent. Clare Dunne plays Prince Hal, the hero of both plays, with startling energy. Caught between the responsibilities inheritance brings, embodied by the superb Harriet Walter in the title role, and another father figure – Falstaff. As the rogue knight, Ashley McGuire gives a tremendous performance, fully embodying the ambiguities this production offers – it’s a great Falstaff but the sense of a disturbed woman in prison who is taking on the role is tangible. This triangle of ‘men’ is the focus of the production and the ramifications, when performed by female characters in a jail, positively outshine any episode of cult women’s prison drama Orange is the New Black.

When Shakespeare and the performance being staged by the prisoners intersect, Henry IV is electric. Some adlibbing results in an emotional break to the action, highlighting the sexism of the original text along with the cruelty of prison life. And the whole evening is abruptly cut short by the prison guards – leaving you feeling somewhat shell-shocked. The lives of the characters performing these famous roles provoke speculation; ‘Hal’ reveals she is to be released soon, and the whole cast have worked to create back stories. The prisoners’ own production is deliberately lo-fi – their props have to be improvised and costumes are minimal, adding to a sense of raw immediacy. What shines through is the strength of Shakespeare’s story, magnified by these imagined lives and made all the more powerful for it.

Until 29 November 2014

www.donmarwarehouse.com

Photo by Helen Maybanks

Written 15 October 2014 for The London Magazine

“My Night With Reg” at the Donmar Warehouse

The Donmar Warehouse’s revival of Kevin Elyot’s 1994 play, My Night With Reg, opened this week. With strong direction from Robert Hastie and a superb cast, the production serves as a fitting tribute to the recently deceased author of this sensitive and sensationally funny play.

As a group of gay friends meet over the years, first in celebration then in the wake of the devastating AIDS crisis, their promiscuous lives are observed in a quietly profound and structured way. Questions of love, life and death come to the fore in a play about the passage of time and the importance of truth.

This should be a grim night out. Even the weather, in each of the three scenes, is the perpetually wet English summer. Yet Elyot’s triumph is to make My Night With Reg so funny. With a nod to classic farce and plenty of blue jokes, the laughs come thick and fast. Underneath the wickedly funny crudity, there’s great skill: switching between comedy and tears with the speed of a lightning flash.

Geoffrey Streatfeild (Daniel) and Lewis Reeves (Eric) in My Night With Reg. Photo by Johan Persson.
Geoffrey Streatfeild and Lewis Reeves

The characters are finely drawn and the acting lives up to Elyot’s writing. The plot pivots around the never seen Reg – the lover of so many – but our perspective comes from the floppy-haired, ever cautious Guy, made so endearing by Jonathan Broadbent that he becomes a real hero. Guy’s university friends are appropriately irresistible, played by Julian Ovenden and Geoffrey Streatfeild with both charisma and convincing depth. There are also talented turns by Matt Bardock and Richard Cant, while Lewis Reeves as Eric, the youngest character, gives another strong performance, bringing intergenerational insight to events.

As the play’s first major revival, the big question is, inevitably, how well it has aged. Despite being very much rooted in its times, addressing a specific community that has changed a great deal in the past 20 years, it’s a pleasant surprise to see how fresh My Night With Reg feels. Unrequited love is a universal theme, after all, and Elyot explores deep emotions in an appealingly uncensorious way. Best of all, the humour, while too blunt to describe as sparkling, still shines.

Until 27 September 2014

www.donmarwarehouse.com

Photos by Johan Persson

Written 6 August 2014 for The London Magazine

“The Weir” at Wyndham’s Theatre

With queues for Josie Rourke’s Coriolanus starting crazily early, adding to her string of hits as artistic director of the Donmar Warehouse, she now has a West End transfer to boast about with The Weir, which opened at Wyndham’s Theatre last night.

This much admired and awarded play dates from 1997 and sees various ghost stories told by its misfit characters in a small rural pub. Fortifying this tried and tested concept are Conor McPherson’s beautiful writing and mythic undertones: suggesting our longstanding psychological connections to storytelling and the supernatural.

Rourke’s production is spookily precise. Like one of the play’s characters, Finbar, she clearly has “an eye for the gap” – pauses are perfectly measured for both comedy and tragedy and space is created for the captivating stories. The pace is wonderfully controlled, and the banter in between, the majority of which is very funny indeed, fills out the characters, adding further layers to the play.


Ardal O’Hanlon

Each of the roles is interesting and exceptionally well acted. Risteárd Cooper and Peter McDonald give fine performances as a local entrepreneur and the landlord of the pub. Their different ambitions are just one example of a cleverly injected sense of community, covering the petty differences of life in the country and a network of personal histories. Crowd-pleasing Ardal O’Hanlon joins them as Jim, a bashful handyman who still lives with his mother.

Upsetting the group’s equilibrium is Valerie, a new arrival or “blow in”, who soaks up local folklore then reveals her own ghost story. In the role, Dervla Kirwan delivers the most moving moment of the evening, bringing home the pain and loneliness all feel and fight against. But it’s Brian Cox – as the finest storyteller and bar room wit – that you can’t take your eyes off. Playing an ordinary man with a quiet sadness slowly revealed with great skill, Cox heads a high-powered cast that’s sure to really pack them in. And deservedly so.

Until 19 April 2013

Photos by Helen Warner

Written 22 January 2014 for The London Magazine

“Roots” at the Donmar Warehouse

As you might expect, there is a kitchen sink in Arnold Wesker’s 1958 work Roots. But, for all the washing up, the play really revolves around cooking. It starts with some liver, followed by ice cream, as Beatie comes home to her Norfolk village for a holiday. Jessica Raine instantly establishes Beatie – and her own acting skills – as something exceptional. Inspired by the socialist ideals she has been exposed to from her activist fiance Ronnie, she’s a “whirlwind” to her family. Insisting that they start to think and talk like her, she is a harsh, albeit endearing judge.

Next Beatie makes a cake. It’s Ronnie’s recipe. Her formidable mother is busy cooking something else while being lectured to and made to listen to classical music. The preparations are for Ronnie’s visit, an encounter that Beatie is justifiably anxious about. Linda Bassett shines in the role of Mrs Bryant, bringing much humour to the play and almost threatening to make the focus two women rather one (probably not Wesker’s intention), so fine is her performance.

By the final scene, there has been more food (and a bath in between), including a family feast with a trifle to take seriously, and all are assembled for Ronnie’s arrival. There’s a sense we have over indulged. Director James Macdonald’s production is meticulous and, with the help of designer Hildegard Bechtler, the detail approaches fetishism. The observation of rural working-class life is slow but captivating, and concentrated performances from the large ensemble that make up Beatie’s family are similarly precise and of the highest quality.

As well as being slightly bloated, Wesker’s examination of socialist ideas is a little past its sell-by date. Thankfully, there is also Beatie’s journey of self-discovery, and this is all together more satisfying. Raine’s depiction of Beatie’s development is thorough and gratifying, giving her the passion for life that Wesker writes so well about. As she gets down from Ronnie’s soapbox, admittedly on to one of her own, you start to really listen to her, and one leaves feeling that the end is her delicious new beginning.

Until 30 November 2013

www.donmarwarehouse.com

Photo by Stephen Cummiskey

Written 10 October 2013 for The London Magazine

“The Same Deep Water As Me” at the Donmar Warehouse

Following the success of Nick Payne’s award-winning Constellations, Josie Rourke, artistic director at the Donmar, has the coup of presenting his new play, The Same Deep Water As Me. Set in a ‘no-win-no-fee’ lawyers’ office in Luton, it’s a departure for the young writer, moving from intimate personal dramas into the wider world of work. Payne tackles big issues with humour and intelligence and deserves great success.

Superbly directed by John Crowley, the play’s plot, an attempt to swindle large companies via insurance claims, serves to explore the theme of lying. The rather desperate Kevin suggests the idea to his old school friend Andrew, who has made good as a lawyer. In a bravura performance, Daniel Mays takes the lead, deceiving his character’s older colleague Barry and renewing an attachment to his first love, now Kevin’s wife, Jennifer (a charming Niky Wardley). Payne’s strong characterisations emerge as they become embroiled in the scam.

There are some marvellous one-liners here, some of the funniest you’ll hear on stage in London at the moment, and the delivery from Marc Wotton’s Mephistophelean Kevin is superb. Nuanced observations on class are used to particularly great effect when a claim is contested in court: Peter Forbes and Monica Dolan play a sleek legal establishment magnificently and Isabella Laughland’s cameo as a lorry driver is arresting (if a shockingly small role for such a talented actress).

Payne’s writing has a strange modesty that makes for a unique voice – a joke denied a punch line, unstated emotions suggested with restraint – and surely many a dramatist would have opted for the more dramatic criminal court instead of a civil one? Playing down has a purpose: raising questions about access to justice is topical but, providing a further satisfying weight, a Kantian universalizability shows that this is deep water we really are all in together.

Until 28 September 2013

www.donmarwarehouse.com

Photo by Johan Persson

Written 12 August 2013 for The London Magazine

“The Silence of the Sea” at the Trafalgar Studios

A very different kind of wartime drama, based on a novella written at the start of World War II by French intellectual Jean Bruller, aka Vercors, The Silence of the Sea is about an unusually quiet form of resistance. A German soldier is billeted with a French couple whose delivery of the silent treatment tests his sanity. It’s a form of rebellion that demands determination and restraint – both from its protagonists and the creative team of the play – and the results are startling, compelling and easy to recommend.

The Silence of the Sea is sophisticated stuff, not least in its nuanced approach to the occupying Nazi: a philosophising Francophile of remarkable amiability, he’s a musician at home so that the silence of his unwilling housemates becomes a torture to him and leads him to confide more and more.

The three complex roles produce some fine acting. Leo Bill brings just the right edge to his unusually sensitive warrior, showing great skill in just holding back from winning us over, and Simona Bitmaté gives an intense performance as the young woman forced to live with him. But it’s the excellent Finbar Lynch who has our attention, with asides to the audience that show his remarkable ability as a storyteller.

The production marks the end of the Donmar’s initiative for young directors at the Trafalgar Studios, supported by United House, and that’s a pity. The director here, Simon Evans, has excelled. Generating fantastic performances that feel in-depth but not indulgent, with the help of some great sound design from Gregory Clarke, he makes this tiny venue drip with atmosphere, and cleverly glides over the play’s more pretentious moments to focus on its powerful drama.

Until 2 February 2012

www.donmarwarehouse.com

Photo by Simon Kane

Written 15 January 2013 for The London Magazine

“Passion” at the Donmar Warehouse

Given the background of the Donmar’s history of brilliantly staged Sondheim musicals, the  production of Passion to celebrate the composers’ 80th birthday should be something of an event. Working once more with James Lapine, the 1994 musical tells the story of a Risorgimento soldier in a particularly 19th-century love triangle.

Passion is very much a chamber piece, well suited to intimacy of the Donmar. Director Jamie Lloyd handles the space superbly, translating the epistolary structure of Lapine’s book. With Scott Ambler’s choreography, the small cast creates the claustrophobia of a military environment and brings out the gothic overtones of Iginio Ugo Tarchetti’s original source material.

The superb Elena Roger plays the invalid Fosca, portraying insanity while skillfully avoiding the comedic. Frightening and manipulative (in Giorgio’s dreams she appears vampiric), her intensity convinces him that his happy affair with the radiant Clara (Scarlett Strallen) isn’t the real deal.

David Thaxton handles Giorgio’s initial repulsion of Fosca with sensitivity, and portrays his subsequent decision to abandon Clara with a degree of mania inherited from his new lover. Thaxton’s voice is a revelation, deeply commanding yet retaining the romance of Sondheim’s sweet score.

For, despite the morbid overtones of disease, Passion is a romantic musical. The explorations of two different kinds of love interweave with a satisfying symmetry, though while Sondheim avoids sentimentality, he also loses his sense of humour.

It seems perverse to criticise a composer known for innovation when he changes his style, but in abandoning his usual wry touch in favour of something more heartfelt, the fun is missing and that seems a shame. For all its sincerity, and the quality of this production, it is difficult to get passionate about Passion.

Until 27 November 2010

www.donmarwarehouse.com

Photo by Johan Persson

Written 21 September 2010 for The London Magazine

“The Prince of Homburg” at the Donmar Warehouse

The Donmar’s production of Heinrich von Kleist’s The Prince of Homburg is another attempt to provide London audiences with the chance to see a classic we should all be more familiar with. Written just before the author’s death in 1811, the play is a mixture of romance and military drama, pitting the emotions of its hero with his sense of honour.

The Prince is the kind of dreaming philosopher that director Jonathan Munby deals well with. Munby’s last production at the Donmar, Life is a Dream, shared concerns about the failings of human perception and this production has a similar ethereal feel. But the Prince is also a military leader and when he makes a mistake in battle and is court marshalled, he comes to believe that he should pay for his error with his life. A modern audience is bound to have problems finding this believable. His journey to the decision is too brief to dispel these doubts and Dennis Kelly’s new version bizarrely encourages them.

The problem of motivation seems shared by the cast as well. Charlie Cox as the Prince and Sonya Cassidy as his love interest do well to establish a magnetic relationship, but the emotions surrounding the Prince’s imprisonment and attempts to save, then sacrifice him for the cause of army discipline, are unbelievable. Cox is a fine hero, he ‘does’ dignity well, but you can’t help thinking he is a fool.

Cox gets your sympathy (which is the last thing the character should have) especially given who he is up against – the Elector Frederick in the form of Ian McDiarmid. Playing an evil emperor is bread and butter to McDiarmid (he is the bad guy in the Star Wars films) but he really does excel at it. Bringing every subtlety out of the character he adds humour as well as chilling efficiency to the role. You never doubt him. He is full of frustrations and fears as well as being the consummate politician.

The Prince of Homburg is a classy affair with a stylish design from Angela Davies and a strong supporting cast that often seems wasted. McDiarmid alone makes this production worth seeing. His performance is one of those masterclass affairs that occur far less frequently than we are led to believe. Just don’t expect to get very much else from the evening.

Until 4 September 2010

www.donmarwarehouse.com

Written 2 August 2010 for The London Magazine