Tag Archives: Gethin Alderman

“Who is Claude Cahun?” at the Southwark Playhouse

The titular artist who is the subject of DR Hill’s play has only received attention relatively recently. Speculation about Claude Cahun’s sexuality and gender has appeal for academics, while her life makes for an interesting story. From Paris in the 1930s to resistance work in occupied Jersey during World War II, this is a story worth telling. It is a great shame that here, despite a lot of effort, that it is not told well.

Rivkah Bunker, who takes the title role, and Amelia Armande, who plays Cahun’s partner Marcel Moore, are hampered by a script that is both worthy and wooden. Maybe Hill has read the anti-war messages his subjects wrote as a form of protest too often – there were posters and banners, as well as writing secreted in magazines and even on cigarette papers. But surely, Cahun and Moore didn’t speak like that in real life. The problem is compounded by an eye on theory – the word ‘identity’ is used far too often – which takes us out of the world of the play. Nearly all the dialogue is poor. Lines such as “open up, it’s the Gestapo” are close to embarrassing. 

There is no shortage of ideas in the piece. Juliette Demoulin’s set is effective and the video design by Jeffrey Choy uses Cahun’s artwork well. Director David Furlong highlights movement a lot and manages to create some intriguing moments, inspired by Cahun’s performance work, expressing intimacy and emotion. But there is a reliance on presenting Cahun as a troubled genius. Too much background information is taken for granted, with a difficult childhood and time in a chauvinistic Paris presented in short scenes that are hard to digest. The trio that makes up the remaining cast – Gethin Alderman, Ben Bela Böhm and Sharon Drain – are overworked and the results unpleasant. There are a lot of accents and poor attempts at establishing weakly written characters.

Things improve… a little. As the Resistance work becomes riskier, causing concern to the paranoid Germans, Cahun and Moore are captured and undergo interrogation, imprisonment and almost execution. At times it is hard to believe they were taken so seriously (the “Soldier with no name” Cahun took as her identity was presumed to be German and part of a whole terrorist cell). But it really is a compelling story and that Cahun’s confession was not believed a fine touch.

Again, though, the delivery isn’t strong enough. Bringing out farcical moments is a good idea. Like the art Cahun left behind in Paris, you might say the situation was surreal. But the comedy lacks bite and detracts from the tension. Furlong tries to keep up a pace, but the effect is clumsy. There’s a final twist that is strong. In the search for who Cahun is, do we forget the identity of their companion? It’s Moore’s photography that has made Cahun memorable, yet her name is even less well known. Such insight into the perils of biography is admirable, but not enough to compensate for so many mistakes.

Until 12 July 2025

www.southwarkplayhouse.co.uk

Photo by Paddy Gormley

“Starcrossed” at Wilton’s Music Hall

Aside from the Greeks, can you think of a play that’s inspired as many others as Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet? Rachel Garnet’s 2018 take is to tell the tale from the perspective of Tybalt and Mercutio. And to make the men a new pair of star-crossed lovers.

The idea shouldn’t be a surprise, given how much Shakespeare is played with. But if it sounds a little sensational, think again. Starcrossed is a serious piece – if it has a failing it’s a lack of humour – that shows deep thinking and sensitivity, and a firm grasp on its source material that is super smart.

The development of Shakespeare’s minor characters is a huge success. Yes, Garnet has plenty to work with, but she creates solid, interesting characters that are an exciting prospect for performers.

Mercutio – a “fickle creature” – is a pacifist and an all-round outsider, vividly brought to life by Connor Delves, who has travelled with the show from New York. It’s easy to see Mercutio captivating all he meets with his intelligence and dangerous flair. Tommy Sim’aan takes the role of Tybalt and is just as magnetic to watch. The character’s confusion about his status as well as sexuality are evoked in equal measure and never overstated.

Gethin-Alderman-in-Starcrossed-Photo-Pamela-Raith-Photography
Gethin Alderman

Starcrossed has charm too – which brings us to the final performer, known as The Player, who takes on all the other roles! So, Gethin Alderman becomes Lord Capulet, Paris, Romeo (and Juliet) as well as Tybalt’s father – a great creation whose scenes are a real highlight. Switching so many roles cannot fail to impress, and Alderman adds a playfulness that is welcome.

Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow

Garnet’s script is a marvel, a verse play with snatches of Shakespeare (not just from Romeo and Juliet) cleverly incorporated. Stimulating and erudite, this is a text to treasure. It is a credit to the performers and Philip Wilson’s impeccable direction that such learning is worn easily. As with the best Shakespearean productions, we appreciate the wit but don’t feel excluded by it.

Garnet manages to look at the circumstances she creates from the perspective of gay men and pays attention to the history. The couple’s fear and the degree of acceptance they have about keeping their love a secret is moving. There’s a consistent tension in seeing how the script fits into the bigger story, what lines are used or ignored, as well as the exciting speculation about how much change we’ll see.

Best of all, concerns for the future, wrapped up in questions of honour and legacy, are explored with insight and originality. Creating a story “never told” has a powerful impact. Along with Mercutio’s speculation about how lives might be different in 500 years’ time, the idea that so much LGBTQ+ history has been lost is used by Garnet to great effect.

Until 25 June 2022

www.witons.org.uk

Photo by Pamela Raith

“Incident at Vichy” at the Finborough Theatre

There is a dichotomy within Arthur Miller’s 1964 play, in which we meet ten men captured for questioning by German forces in Occupied France. A cool examination of evil combines with the emotional impact of events. Allying both aspects shows director Phil Willmott’s experience and skill.

Miller observed Nazi war crimes as a journalist and, like Hannah Arendt, adopted an intellectual rigour to understand the complexity of events. The text overflows with ideas, to its detriment – issues of class, race and alterity arrive too thick and too fast. Designer Georgia de Grey’s cold white box of a set makes the perfect environment for this clinical questioning. Two members of the strong cast convey the arguments, which lie heavily on the page, superbly: Brendan O’Rourke as a politicised working man and Gethin Alderman as a psychiatrist hailing from Vienna. Bright lights are appropriate for such an interrogation but also show the growing tension as stories are revealed and beads of sweat on foreheads start to show.

Gethin Alderman
Gethin Alderman

Miller presents his characters as “symbols”, several don’t have names and one, the “Old Jew”, doesn’t speak – great credit to Jeremy Gagan for making this role so effective. Rebuking the Nazi idea that there are “no individuals”, the men’s stories suffuse the work. There’s sterling acting here, including PK Taylor’s hip flask swigging thespian – a deluded pragmatist who dismisses theories and fears. And a collection of impressive breakdowns as the waiting continues. Both Lawrence Boothman and Michael Skellern, as an artist and a waiter, build their performances well. Edward Killingback, as a Vienese nobleman, comes into his own under Alderman’s scrutiny and Henry Wyrley-Birch makes a great contribution as a somewhat token “decent” German.

It’s these glimpses of lives, most about to end, that highlight Willmott and his casts’ talents. A collection of strong performances, finely controlled, that preserve the life and death tension in a piece that occasionally sounds like a textbook, making it work as drama.

Until 22 April 2017

www.finboroughtheatre.co.uk

Photos by Scott Rylander