Tag Archives: Duke of York’s Theatre

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“Shifters” at the Duke of York’s Theatre

A lot of people are understandably excited about playwright Benedict Lombe. Shifters is only her second piece, a hit transfer from the Bush Theatre, and is a smart take on a romcom that deserves its big success. The production is a credit to director (and unerring talent spotter) Lynette Linton, as well as the two cast members – Heather Agyepong and Tosin Cole – who should get their mantlepieces ready for trophies.

It’s the story of Des and Dre and, as you might guess, the narrative… shifts: from schoolfriends to lovers to their breakup, and then meeting again after many years. But Shifters is also a memory play, so the action goes back and forth, flipping between that reunion and the couple’s history. Linton makes sure the toing and froing is clear (credit also to the excellent lighting design by Neil Austin), and Lombe uses the structure of her script thrillingly.

“Epic and easy”

The time travelling is great. And it gives rise to big questions. Lombe has things to say about the science of memory, and even first love, raising lots of issues about race, gender, psychology and communication. It helps that Des’s dad is a neuroscientist and that she is a visual artist. There is fresh thinking on tropes around romance – take the idea of soulmates or, rather, if you only have one, should that be sole mates? For each, Linton gives the audience time to think.

Both characters are thinkers, too. They met in debating class at school, and they appeal and excite as a result. That they are so well matched makes the show undeniably sweet, even if they end up apart. Their arguments are fun as well as profound. Nothing is heavy handed, although there are also serious events – Des and Dre have faced trauma. It is telling that Lombe’s skill makes deceased family members vivid characters. Overall, Shifters is marked by its optimism. It’s a relief to watch a play about two successful people! Even if their love didn’t work out, they have fulfilled big dreams.

Maybe their achievements help with the comedy in the piece – this is a very funny play. The repartee between Dre and Des is superb, Agyepong and Cole deliver every line perfectly and are a joy to watch. The swift changes in time, and mood, make the play a tough ask of its cast. Over the course of the years, their characters also shift. But that great sense of humour is the key. Even through heartache, Dre and Des can laugh together, and it proves impossible not to fall in love with them – and this play.

Until 12 October 2024

www.shifterstheplay.co.uk

Photo by Marc Brenner

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“An Enemy of the People” at the Duke of York’s Theatre

Schaubühne Berlin director Thomas Ostermeier’s production invigorates Ibsen’s classic. With the characters made so clearly contemporary, the story of personal morals and political hypocrisy feels fresh. A star cast responds to the energy, making the show, co-adapted with Florian Borchmeyer, bracing.

Doctor Stockmann (Matt Smith) and his friends are “hokey cookie liberals”. They are in a band, drink wine from tumblers and wear normcore. We can guess what paper they read. There’s a gentle sense of cynicism around them that skilfully develops bite. For when Stockmann discovers poison in the town’s water system, his pretty cool life becomes a hot mess.

You’d think these nice folk would rise up against the “pink-faced geriatrics” of the establishment. Such enemies are embodied by the town mayor, who Paul Hilton makes suitably slimy. But things aren’t that simple. Stockmann’s old school friends Billing and Hovstad (played by Zachary Hart and Shubham Saraf) abandon their principles. And the mayor just happens to be the doctor’s big brother.

The family relationships in the show are explored well. Hilton makes such a good politician you almost start to believe his protests about trying to help. Nigel Lindsay gets a lot from the role of a father-in-law although how he ‘helps’ is too rushed. And there’s Stockmann’s long-suffering wife, Katharina, given a strong sense of autonomy in Jessica Brown Findlay’s excellent performance.

While Ostermeier makes a big effort to open the play up, it’s hard not to see it as Stockmann’s – and therefore Smith’s –show. The character and performer are magnetic. And it’s great to see the seeds of a mania so carefully sown. But Stockmann isn’t an appealing character, even if we admire him. Even his naivety – at one point he thinks people will be grateful to him for ruining the local economy – gets laughs rather than sympathy.

Stockmann is hurt by betrayal, but his main target is identified at a public meeting. There are bigger problems than left, right or centre – as a disturbing rant reveals. The idea that all opinions are valid, that we can ignore science or the truth, is attacked. It’s a memorable scene, with the house lights raised and an invite to get the audience’s opinion. The idea startles and is sure to make the production memorable.

Anyone joining in might do well to remember that it isn’t Stockmann who wants to know what we think – his mind is made up. The delivery is excellent, and Smith really comes into his own. So does Jan Pappelbaum’s black and white set, for that matter. I don’t want to knock Ostermeier’s anger. And we’re given room to question it all – Stockmann does come across unhinged and the outcome of the action is open. But there is a big flaw to all this. The piece wants arguments to excite, ideas to thrill. And while the execution is strong, I’m not sure either are strong or new enough to really do that.

Until 13 April 2024

www.anenemyofthepeople.co.uk

Photos by Manuel Harlan

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“Backstairs Billy” at the Duke of York’s Theatre

It’s hard not to suspect that Marcelo Dos Santos’ play is in the West End because people are interested in Royalty. This fictional account of the Queen Mother and her butler, Billy Tallon, is good. But there isn’t a lot to it. At its best it offers performances to sit back and enjoy: confident, subtle, and making the most of some solid comedy writing.

Charm comes from the characters (not that they are closely, or convincingly, written) who endear and amuse. Billy is gay, so there are two Queens here (ha, ha) with jokes, just a little naughty, about their adventures and attitudes. Not a lot goes on and there’s not much for the performers to convey. But Penelope Wilton and Luke Evans do very well in the lead roles.

The affection Billy and the Queen Mum feel for each is neatly used – both papering over and creating tension. He is long serving but not long-suffering with “the eyes of a religious zealot” when the two first meet (flashback scenes make a strong showcase for Ilan Galkoff who plays a younger Billy).

The Queen Mother is…well…she’s the Queen Mum and gets off very lightly. While plenty of her behaviour is unpleasant the play owes too much to the Royals to really criticise. Meanwhile, Billy is a “boon” to her, especially when we see her as an increasingly lonely old lady. At least his fears of being only “marginalia” in her story is a fate Dos Santos successfully prevents.

When it tries to add bite Backstairs Billy fails. There’s a sitcom moment with Billy’s one night stand, who makes an unwelcome return, that’s successful until politics is brought into the mix. And the power play between the queen and Billy gets nasty and threatens to leave the audience with a sour taste in a clumsy fashion.

Director Michael Grandage keeps the action brisk – necessary in such a static play. Christopher Oram’s set and costume design are accomplished. And there are corgis – real ones! There’s plenty of talent here, and fun moments. But efforts to show changes in British society ring hollow. Backstairs Billy doesn’t give much more than a good giggle.

Until 27 January 2024

www.michaelgrandagecompany.com

Photo by Johan Persson

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“Vanya” at the Duke of York’s Theatre

The idea behind this new work, described as ‘after’ Chekhov’s masterpiece, is to have one performer take all the roles. If your first response is to ask why, trust me, there is a point. An important point. Vanya simultaneously distils and expands its source material: showing the original as never before, while exposing the power of creativity itself in a way that is inspirational. This show is magical.

Director Sam Yates, designer Rosanna Vize, playwright Simon Stephens and the solo performer, Andrew Scott, are credited as co-creators. And what they have created is very special indeed. The project might seem foolhardy, that it works so well is a continual delight. Vanya is funny – the limitations of having one performer are playfully acknowledged. But – quickly – we start to really see all the characters; each role becomes fully – literally – realised.

Yates, a versatile director, is clearly hard to intimidate; he paces the production, close to two hours with no interval, gracefully. There’s nothing showy, no distractions, and he has the confidence to let us enjoy the text and the star. Vize’s design cleverly combines theatricality, there are grand curtains and plywood, with the domestic. There is a playful balance of artifice and the everyday.

Stephens is a bold writer of ferocious intelligence. It certainly helps to know Uncle Vanya, but pointers as to what is going on come with skill as well as providing jokes. Importantly, humour runs through the script and scenario too so that Chekhov’s comedy becomes clear. There’s a lot of insight into the original; the presence of Anna, Vanya’s deceased sister, is revelatory. Chekhov’s themes of boredom and happiness – with all the dramatic permutations around love, age, and ambition – are vivid and alive.

As for the performer… it must be odd to be as talented as Scott! Expectations might even detract from his achievement, as everyone just knows he’ll be great. But swapping roles of such different ages and genders so brilliantly, for such an extended duration, is breath-taking.

Technically, distinguishing each character by carefully using small props or gestures is fascinating. But Scott makes the show uncannily emotional (he always expresses vulnerability marvellously). There are a lot of unhappy people here and you feel for them all in turn. Even the intellectual Serebryakov, usually so unsympathetic and recast a pretentious film director, is heart-wrenching. And Scott is a stong comedian, the cackles he gets from talking about cartography show this. All amazing, but when it comes to scenes of physical intimacy between the characters… what to do? Scott subtly wrestles with himself. Stroking or grabbing a hand, or pushing himself against a wall. Somehow, and I cannot explain it – the show is sexy. And, I can’t help repeat myself, such moments in the theatre are magical.

The idea of art that, like Serebryakov’s films, “defines”, is mocked by Vanya. The character makes his point forcefully. But this is theatre that will be remembered and talked about for a long time. The only problem is running out of superlatives to describe it.

Until 21 October 2023

www.thedukeofyorks.com/vanya

Photo by Marc Brenner

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“The Pillowman” at the Duke of York’s Theatre

It’s surprising that this is the first London revival and West End debut for Martin McDonagh’s 2003 play. Given its author’s fame and the work’s reputation, you might have expected to see the piece more often. It’s worth the wait. The Pillowman is every bit as puzzling and disturbing as I recalled from its National Theatre debut. And if you don’t know the play, then prepare to scratch and shake your head in equal measure.

The reputation isn’t hard to fathom. McDonagh always challenges his audiences intelligently and there’s plenty to think about, while pushing the bounds of good taste makes us laugh a lot. The language is blue (less shocking even since 2003) but, given how much child torture and murder features in The Pillowman, it should still be a hard sell. Even those who like the blackest of humour might blanch at the stories told here.

The teller of said stories is one Katurian, who we meet being interrogated my police in a nameless totalitarian state. The questioning is odd, but just as unsettling are Katurian’s morbid tales, which are quoted to her by the police and told in asides. And that isn’t quite right, is it? All our support should surely be with the writer. But the power of these stories, riffs on fairy tales that even Hans Christian Andersen would think go too far, is the focus. Because someone has been acting them out!

It seems a bit mean to say who the perpetrator is – it’s a good twist. But McDonagh plays with expectations marvellously. Firstly, Katurian’s brother, Michal, who is mentally challenged, loses our sympathy. Then those awful cops start to look… maybe not so bad? They have a story to tell, too. What Katurian gets up to made me gasp. The price this writer is willing to pay for posterity is another shocker.

Such strong material isn’t automatically easy to bring to the stage – McDonagh is demanding of performers. Director Matthew Dunster has engendered fine acting while showing commendable respect for the script. The policemen, Paul Kaye and Steve Pemberton, aren’t strangers to dark humour. If their performances lack surprises, they are still accomplished. Matthew Tennyson makes Michal suitably spooky, and his chemistry with his onstage sister is unnerving. But the star of the night is Lily Allen, who is revelatory in the lead role. Allen shows huge control as her character faces constant violence and horror, indicating how smart Katurian is, yet never going for cheap laughs. Above all, the importance of the work to Katurian is convincing, providing a sense of reality in a play that has so much fantasy and from which nightmares ensue.

Until 2 September 2023

www.pillowmanplay.com

Photo by Johan Persson

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“The Doctor” at the Duke of York’s Theatre

It’s not hard to make theatre contemporary; cram a work with topical concerns at your peril. This play, transferring from the Almeida and created by Robert Icke, has it all: abortion, anti-Semitism, Alzheimer’s disease, medical ethics, euthanasia, politics, racism, religion and sexism. And above all comes the hot topic of identity. The unusual thing about The Doctor is that it can boast rigour and passion in equal measure, making it a phenomenal work.

“The best way to die”

The action, in a play which is mostly people talking, starts with a priest refused access to a dying young girl. This begins a battle between medicine and religion that is a big enough topic on its own. The contest isn’t just fought on social media (although Icke’s insight here is strong and could make another play of its own) but shows divisions within the hospital staff that create the atmosphere of a thriller.

Icke opens up issues that connect to the medical dilemma of what a patient wants and what the best treatment is – and he refuses to edit. The head of the hospital, Ruth Wolff, and the institution she founded come under the spotlight and stakes escalate to great effect. The question becomes how much impact identity, including beliefs and background, does or should have – or is all that just  “biographical nonsense”?

“Crystal Clear”

Icke doesn’t make any of this simple – quite rightly. Wolff, depicted by Juliet Stevenson who gives one of the best performances on a stage I’ve ever seen, wants to be “crystal clear” but is an ambiguous character. Her dry humour and self-awareness will appeal even if her opinions do not, she commands respect even with her flaws. But the character’s private life is deliberately confusing on stage; her partner (played with great sensitivity by Juliet Garricks) and a young person who comes to visit her home are puzzles. There are reasons, and as we learn more the emotional impact is great. Just be prepared.

Now for a big spoiler.

The race and gender of many characters is not the same as that of the performers cast in the role. It’s a debate in theatre, touching on opportunity and authenticity, brought to this stage with particular effect. In terms of drama, the revelations about characters are startling. The difference between differences we can and cannot see could not be made more starkly. The casting makes an intriguing point in a play where identification is so central.

“Do groups really matter”

It’s essential to Wolff that she compartmentalises her professional and her private life. Icke reveals how difficult this has become. Does Wolff’s reserve deny something to others? Does she really have the option of keeping her own heritage or sexuality to herself? As pressure mounts, Wolff chooses to defend herself on TV (a ruthless device to present a variety of views as well as a humiliating experience for the character). Woolf’s privilege becomes an explosive focal point. Whether there is any justice in this scene or merely martyrdom for Wolff will keep you thinking late into the night.

A lot of The Doctor is extreme. From the patient whose tragic death starts everything to the radical opinions and articulate characters that we meet. Woolf and her colleagues are brilliant people working to cure dementia (another subject matter powerfully handled). The rage and fury in the play – from everyone – is palpable, culminating in a scene of Stevenson running in circles which feels close to a panic attack. There’s certainly the danger of leaving the show with a headache – everyone shouts an awful lot.

This much conviction can be scary, but does the obstinacy of the characters become unbelievable? Icke tries to shut down the potential comfort of dismissing so many of them as bigots; the (somewhat flat) roles of a Government minister and the hospital’s PR manager (well performed by Preeya Kalidas and Mariah Louca) aim to be practical or calm…but prove useless. Little can be dismissed outright, rather, there are divisions here that cannot be overcome. There is little hope, despite the play searching for just that quality. Icke sees a polarized world – one that may strike you as contrived, but without doubt, makes for intense drama.

Until 11 December 2022

www.thedoctorwestend.co.uk

Photo by Manuel Harlan

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“The Ocean at the end of the Lane” at the Duke of York’s Theatre

Neil Gaiman’s fantasy tale, adapted for the stage by Joel Horwood, is clever. An introduction to some metaphysics as well as the supernatural makes the story as thought-provoking as it’s entertaining. The piece is as much about childhood and parenthood as adventure, which makes it moving emotionally as well as being action-packed. If a little too attentive to its genre (which you either love or hate), The Ocean at the End of the Lane is brought to the stage with great style. 

Having a best friend, Lettie, who is some kind of witch proves a mixed blessing for our young hero. A play date results in the unnamed boy’s home being invaded by a monster who usually lives on the fringes of our reality! The creature, who transforms into Ursula (played very capably by Laura Rogers) controls a grieving father and gullible sister. Thankfully, Lettie (who isn’t really young) can magically help out. The plot is diverting enough – but solidly aimed at children.

Gaiman says his story is about memory, which doesn’t come across so much on stage. But having an adult character reminisce about the events of his childhood, and then perform as his own father, adds layers to the characters, which helps both James Bamford and Nicolas Tennant in their roles. Other characters are fun, if sketchy, such as the ‘Sis’ter, played by Grace Hogg-Robinson. But there are too many questions around Lettie’s motivation, skated over with the powerful performance from Nia Towle.

As with previous National Theatre hits for children (War Horse, Coram Boy) the show isn’t scared to be dark, a little gory and sometimes funny – well done for trying on all counts. The gore is good, but the humour is unoriginal and there is too little threat. It’s really director Katy Rudd’s work that makes the show a success. Breathless and excited about adventure and magic, the piece convinces against the odds.

The Ocean at the End of the Lane

The puppets (credited to Samuel Wyer) are as good as any I’ve seen on stage. Paule Constable has surpassed herself with lighting design. Above all, the soundtrack from Jherek Bischoff is superb – it’s no surprise it’s on sale. And Steven Hoggett’s movement direction is the key, well done (all the more welcome, since the dialogue is poor), with everyone moving props and acting all the while. Rudd has made sure the show eminently theatrical. Of course, fantasy on stage works! Imagination is the key to theatre and the genre – and the production harnesses this with great skill.

www.nationaltheatre.org.uk

Until May 2022

Photo by Manuel Harlan

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"The Son" at the Duke of York’s Theatre

Playwright Florian Zeller has had phenomenal success bringing his brand of smart French panache to the British stage. But this new work, another hit and this time a transfer from the Kiln Theatre, is different. With plays like The Father, Zeller experimented with perceptions of reality, while his comedy about adultery, The Truth, used twisting perspectives and audience expectations to get grown-up laughs. For The Son, Zeller abandons any tricksy touches: he presents a stripped back, almost simple, play that is a harrowing story of mental health.

The acting is irreproachable. Taking the title role, Laurie Kynaston gives a career defining portrayal as troubled teen Nicholas. Like the text, and Michael Longhurst’s direction, Kynaston shows great control. There are outbursts of anger but bad behaviour is in the background. Nicholas’ problem is an inexplicable unhappiness he simply can’t articulate and that makes it all the more frustrating and moving.

Laurie Kinston in 'The Son'
Laurie Kynaston

The adults dealing with his illness suffer too. If Zeller hadn’t already used the title previously, this piece could easily be named after Nicholas’ father, a major role that John Light excels with. As with the mother, played by Amanda Abbington, there’s a sense of panic and fear that adds tension to the play. Both parental roles, complicated by their recent divorce, are depicted with care and attention. 

Arguably the pivotal character, who has, like the audience, a little more distance from Nicholas, is his step-mother Sofia. It’s a fantastic part for Amaka Okafor who shows a woman trying to warm to the youngster, who unexpectedly ends up living with her, but who is also scared of him. The awful moment when Nicholas overhears what she thinks of him is balanced by her steely resolve not to let him babysit his new born step-brother. 

Sofia shows how Zeller has mined the psychological complexity in his scenario. The characters’ reactions aid an uncanny ability to make the most mundane questions fraught. Longhurst’s direction compliments the technique and the tension is frequently uncomfortable. If ever a play needed a trigger warning this is it, and I suppose a plot spoiling alert is needed too…

John Light, Amanda Abbington and Laurie Kynaston
John Light, Amanda Abbington and Laurie Kynaston

This is a tale of teenage suicide and in the play the outcome comes as no surprise. Given that Zeller can cover the tracks in a plot better than most this must be deliberate. That the play is so predictable adds a sense of doom from very early on. But while it seems a trivial point in this context, that doesn’t help the play dramatically. The outcome is particularly grim and some key decisions made by the adults in Nicholas’ life are, let us hope, unrealistic. Nicholas only becomes increasingly inexplicable – a fair point but one that is truly dismal. Of course Zeller doesn’t have to sugar any pill, but he also raises hope to dash it in a final scene which comes across as cruel. There’s no doubting the power of Zeller’s writing here – all the five star reviews have recognised it – but in abandoning his usual brilliance for the sake of a brutal power, a warning about the play does need to be issued.

Until 2 November 2019

www.thesonwestend.com

Photos by  Marc Brenner

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“The Girl on the Train” at the Duke of York’s Theatre

Before embarking on a national tour, Rachel Wagstaff and Duncan Abel’s adaptation of Paula Hawkins’ best-selling thriller is having a month in the West End. With considerable help from its star Samantha Womack, playing the alcoholic Rachel trying to remember what happened at the scene of a crime, it is a commendable effort to bring suspense to the stage. If you’re a fan of the novel, you might have some reservations, but the show’s journey is speedy and stylish, resulting in happy travellers.

As with a delayed departure announcement my heart sank at first. One of the more interesting things about the book is its unreliable narrator, deftly handled by Hawkins, and that’s sacrificed here for the sake of brevity. Rachel is, straight away, in a terrible state, puking up into a takeaway pizza box. Womack is a good stage drunk – her performance throughout is spot on – but Rachel is a victim from the start. It’s no plot spoiler to reveal that, unlike with the novel, you quickly dismiss the idea that she could be the villain of the piece.

The Girl on the Train is a mystery about memory, with maternity as a big theme. The suggestion fought with is that infertility has driven Rachel mad, while the victim of a crime, a babysitter called Megan, has a back story about a baby worthy of Barbara Vine. The themes are a juggling act Hawkins doesn’t quite pull off, so it’s no surprise that cramming it all into the play ends up unsubtle at times. Womack and Kirsty Oswald, who plays Megan, do well in emotional scenes, but director Anthony Banks doesn’t give them quite enough space.

You wouldn’t call the show very theatrical. Wanting to be faithful to the original source, and the film, takes precedence. Megan has some nice flashback scenes, but Oswald is oddly wooden in them. And Rachel’s tenuous grip on reality could surely have been made more of; might some of her fears be more literally shown? And maybe her ex-husband (while Adam Jackson Smith’s performance in the role is good) should be written with more ambiguity from the start?

For all these customer complaints, you wouldn’t want a refund. What the adaptation lacks in finesse it makes up for with action. The plot is précised expertly and the pace is fantastic. Banks does a keen job throughout. Jack Knowles’ work with the lighting is strong and the sound and music design from Ben and Max Ringham is up to their usual high standards. The audience is gripped and entertained at every moment, making this one train service with an eye on the clock that is a model of efficiency.

Until 17 August, then touring until 23 November 2019

www.girlonthetrainplay.com

Photo by Manuel Harlan

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“Rosmersholm” at the Duke of York Theatre

Theatre folk love to make revivals of plays relevant to current times. Now and then, the connections made seem forced, but this new adaptation by Duncan Macmillan of Ibsen’s play from 1886 resonates with the present in a way that frequently astounds. Set around an election, with a country polarised and inequality increasing, nationalism and fake news are everywhere. Meanwhile, the play’s central figure of Rosmer recognises that his privilege comes with a “moral debt” – as they say on Twitter, he is ‘woke’. A conscience examined in the finest detail and a brilliant performance by Tom Burke contribute to a superb production that fizzes with topicality.

Rosmersholm is no dry political disquisition. Giles Terera’s stage presence – as the establishment figure of Andreas Kroll – makes sure that the debate is entertaining. Rosmer’s brother-in-law and old friend, Kroll views radicalism as a threat to not just the country but the soul. And there’s more – ghosts for a start – which director Ian Rickson allows to be symbolic as well as pretty creepy. The characters and the damaged house of Rosmer, with its gorgeous set from Rae Smith, are haunted in many ways, with gradual revelations about the family’s history that make this quite the thriller. It’s all balanced expertly by Rickson and, if the evening is overpowering at times, it’s always exciting.

Tom Burke and Giles Terera

Above all, Rosmersholm is a romance – a particularly intense and tragic one. Marking out Rosmer as a “fallen man” involved with an “independent woman” could remind us too forcefully that this is a period piece. But not a jot. While Burke brings out the complexities of his role as a former pastor who has lost his faith and whose family name becomes a political football, his love interest, Rebecca West, is made the star of the show. This is a tremendous vehicle for Hayley Atwell, who gives a performance full of fantastic detail. West even seems as if she might provide a happy ending. You don’t need to have seen too much Ibsen to be suspicious of that, but Atwell and Rickson make subsequent revelations edge-of-the-seat stuff.

This is a relationship based on talking politics (that’s how our couple fell in love). The chemistry is fantastic, but the ideals discussed are also exciting and challenging. West proves an extreme figure who allows no compromise and there’s an immaturity in both her and Rosmer – take your pick blaming stunted upbringings or a narrow society – that leads to catastrophe. Rosmersholm becomes a frightening place – the talk is of sickness and sacrifice, death or change. No middle ground is allowed. It’s surely just the position, with all its dangers, that we face right now.

Until 20 July 2019

www.rosmersholmplay.com

Photos by Johan Persson