Tag Archives: Eileen Walsh

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“Mnemonic” at the National Theatre

The revival of this legendary piece from Simon McBurney’s company, Complicité, seems a secure success because of its themes of memory and origin. The devised work cries out to be updated, and so it is, with references to Brexit and topical events. At the same time, concerns about where we all come from, highlighting ideas about nationality and conflict, are depressingly relevant to our fractious times.

Starting out as a kind of lecture, there are two main plots: deliberate tangents forced together for philosophical points. We learn about a neolithic man, named Ötzi, whose preserved body was discovered in the Alps. And get the story of a guy whose partner has had some kind of breakdown and disappeared. The archaeology is great, and leads to fantastic theatrical moments, the romance less so as the characters involved lack appeal… but feel free to disagree. The balance between abstract questions and emotional involvement makes the show engaging.

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There’s a powerful sense of how important Mnemonic is – that this is theatre as an event – clear from the committed performances of the show’s ‘collaborators’. Khalid Abdalla takes the lead with breathtaking physicality. His multi-lingual multi-tasking colleagues are all excellent. Maybe Tim McMullan stands out for a versatility he isn’t usually credited for. And Eileen Walsh whose character’s angst makes her role especially difficult. It’s all intense but it should be mentioned that there are some good jokes alongside the serious intellectual concerns.

There are moments when Mnemonic is a victim of its own success. Neither McBurney as director, nor his cast, can do much about this. From audience participation to the brilliant sound (Christopher Shutt), lighting (Paul Anderson) and video (Roland Horvarth), much of the show has been so influential it feels you’ve seen it before. Of course, McBurney took inspiration from others as well – Complicité are rooted in international traditions we don’t get to see enough of in London. But the emphasis on physical theatre, the balance of tech and simplicity, the brave shifts in tone as well as narration, are all far more common than they would have been 25 years ago. 

You might even claim the show’s legacy makes for a further origin story… one well worth remembering through this revival. 

Until 10 August 2024

www.nationaltheatre.org.uk

Photo by Johan Persson

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“The Crucible” at the National Theatre

Lyndsey Turner’s new production of Arthur Miller’s classic looks and sounds great – no small achievement given its famous setting of seventeenth century Salem run by Puritans. Design supremo Es Devlin uses a lot of rain onstage while Tim Lutkin’s superb lighting also impresses. The music from Caroline Shaw is good – a mix of hymns and background soundscape that is atmospheric but not too spooky. Behind the fancy touches is a solid production of an excellent play.

There’s nothing faddish when it comes to a revival (if that happens to concern you). For Miller, the historic witch hunts are a parallel to McCarthyism in the 1950s. Turner doesn’t stretch to any twist. I thought the crazy children, who say they have seen devil and end up “jangling the keys of the kingdom” might provide a spin. But the audience can make up its own connections – thank you – Miller’s study of hysteria and revenge is powerful enough.

Turner has confidence in the piece. Miller’s preface and an afterword are added, pretty neutral inclusions in my opinion. Respect for the text is referential (after all, it really is brilliant) and despite ending up a long evening, the production is gripping.

The key is not to question how credible events seemed. The accusations the girls make are going to raise eyebrows nowadays – could people really believe them? Likewise, the twisted logic of the theocracy that falls for their tricks: yes, the idea of dancing was scandalous! But the dark motives in the play are serious and Turner aids the piece’s gravitas.

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Brendan Cowell and Rachelle Diedericks

The younger cast members do a great job when it comes to a degree of restraint – not easy when you are supposed to be possessed by the devil. The leader of the pack – Abigail -seems far from “wild” and her cohort Mary suitably scared through strong performances from Erin Doherty and Rachelle Diedericks. There is a sense neither girl really knows what they are doing but are carried along by events.

It’s the adults in the show who are the focus. A suitably bland Paris, the community’s minister, becomes increasingly manic in a controlled performance from Nick Fletcher. John Proctor, the play’s flawed hero, takes a back seat: Brendan Cowell must wait until the very end to shine. Instead, it’s his wife, played by the excellent Eileen Walsh whose steely self-righteousness interests more. Walsh suggests the power as well as the costs obtained from the character’s “cold” persona.

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Erin Doherty and Fisayo Akinade

Above all, the court itself is the focal point. More than just the villains of the play, Miller is careful to present the arguments of those who come to judge. There are two figures with different journeys here: the Governor Danforth (played expertly by Matthew Marsh) who balances arrogance with conviction. And an excellent Reverend Hale – a great performance from Fisayo Akinade – whose flip between repentance and cynicism when he realises the disaster he is embroiled in, is brilliantly done. It’s these figures of authority that interest most  – and Turner interrogates them superbly.

Until 5 November 2022

www.nationaltheatre.org.uk

Photos by Johan Persson

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“Girl on an Altar” at the Kiln Theatre

For all its emotional power and intellectual sophistication, the triumph of this retelling of Clytemnestra’s story from Marina Carr is its directness. The play is moving and stimulating but, above all, it is marvellously, beautifully, clear. Writing this skilled should not be missed.

In this story of Clytemnestra’s revenge after her husband Agamemnon sacrifices their daughter Iphigenia, every character is incredibly detailed. Each role narrates the action (like a Greek chorus) as well as soliloquising, addressing the audience, and engaging in blistering argument. Flipping effortlessly between approaches is a credit to every performer and Annabelle Comyn’s flawless direction. And the mix, applied with impeccable naturalism, lulls us towards a breathtaking finale.

It is easy to see Carr’s efforts as a welcome feminist take on the story that brings women to the fore. Eileen Walsh is stunning in the lead role, with a performance that is raw but also calculating. Walsh cannot be praised enough. But there are also strong role for her servant, Cilissa, and Cassandra, played by Kate Stanley Brennan and Nina Bowers respectively, who have their own stories fully realised.

And let’s not underestimate Carr’s achievement, as the role of alpha-male Agamemnon, and the performance from David Walmsley, are just as strong. Can the daughter-killing-tyrant really have any defence? Believe it or not, Carr plays devil’s advocate and puts forward some strong sophistry. You can almost… possibly… feel a little sorry for the hero? In a play obsessed with war, and what war does to men, Agamemnon is trapped by politics, machismo and battle lust – the latter so vividly evoked by bloody and metallic imagery that you can practically taste this play.

Clytemnestra and Agamemnon still love each other – adding further impact to the tragedy. Carr shows how grief can transcend all as Agamemnon says his wife is “moving somewhere beyond men and women”. In a pivotal scene of seduction, Walsh seems to overpower Walmsley physically as much as emotionally. It must be seen to be believed and is a credit to both performers. This is a superb text – daring and original – executed expertly. 

Until 25 June 2022

www.kilntheatre.com

Photo by  Peter Searle