Tag Archives: Harold Pinter Theatre

2026

“High Noon” at the Harold Pinter Theatre

It might seem a little odd to hold the world premiere of a Western, set in sun-drenched New Mexico, in wintry London. This new play by Eric Roth, based on the Oscar-winning 1952 film, feels like a labour of love that has questionable appeal. But it manages to entertain and, pretty much, convince.

The creative teams’ credentials are impeccable. Roth is no stranger to Academy Awards himself. This foray on to the stage is competent, if unimaginative, with strong characters and clear themes. It helps that the story is good, with recently retired Marshall Will Kane rejected by the town he served when he needs help the most. Thea Sharrock’s direction is tight, making the most of the idea that the action is in ‘real time’ and giving the impression that the cast is much larger than it actually is. Tim Hatley’s unfussy set also deserves praise, aiding some pretty clunky scene changes.

The casting is great, too. Movie star Billy Crudup takes the lead role and is suitably inspiring, making an asset of his character’s vulnerability. West End favourite Denise Gough is his love interest and benefits from the slightly more interesting role of Amy. Gough, always good with angst, gets the most out of her character’s religious questions and there’s a powerful chemistry between the leads. Their age makes the story slightly different, and both performers lean into this commendably. There is strong support from a hard-working James Doherty, who takes on three roles, including the show’s villain out for revenge. And there’s another nicely written role for Rosa Salazar as no-nonsense local businesswoman Helen Ramirez – she even manages to inject some much-needed humour into the show. You wait a long time for a scene between her and Gough. Thankfully, when it arrives it is a highlight.

Reservations arise, though. Having some singing in the show isn’t a bad idea. Gough’s voice is impressive. But her character’s refrain isn’t memorable and there are also recorded tracks that jar. It’s hard to avoid the notion that someone at some point wanted this to be a musical and then gave up on the idea. Some nods to the immorality of leaders lack subtlety and the need to make the piece ‘relevant’ doesn’t convince. But the moral of the tale isn’t as simple as it might be. Twists with Amy’s conscience are neat moves and the overall message of standing up for what you believe is suitably rousing, but also complex. To that end, the elevated story makes this show worth watching.


Until 6 March 2026


www.highnoontheplay.com

Photos by Johan Persson

2025

“A Man For All Seasons” at the Harold Pinter Theatre

Casting Martin Shaw as Thomas More for this revival of Robert Bolt’s play is a sound move. As the lawyer-turned-politician, struggling against Henry VIII’s Reformation, the character possesses personal conviction and precise argument. Shaw can deliver both integrity and clarity very well, aided by great stage presence. And he brings a sense of the outsider, with a wry eye and cool common sense, that is perfect for the role.

Famous faces from the Tudor court are present, with a large, competent, supporting cast. I liked Orlando James’ brief appearance as Henry VIII; a figure to fear making fun of. And Edward Bennett’s Thomas Cromwell has a mix of cynical humour and, again, fear, that adds to the role. 

With Jonathan Church’s smooth direction, and a stylish set from Simon Higlett, the production is a quality affair. But Bolt’s 1960 script hasn’t aged well, and cracks show. 

Most of More’s family fail to rise above being foils for the great man. It’s understandable, as there’s a lot of exposition and explanation to get through. More’s recalcitrance is a puzzle for most of us; what does he achieve from his silence? Wife, daughter and son-in-law are only there to put forward different arguments. At least they convince with regards to the affection among the family.

The role of the ‘Common Man’, arguably innovative in Bolt’s time, proves a further problem. While Gary Wilmot has a good go at the role, injecting plenty of energy, the jokes are poor and the insights weak. And is the play’s baddie, the dastardly Richard Rich, who Calum Finlay does well with, too bland?

Rewriting history isn’t new. More participated himself, with regards to Richard III, as Josephine Tey’s detective in The Daughter of Time points out. It’s often fun and right now its trendy. But this effort to look at the past feels old-fashioned itself. Bolt’s efforts are sensible and considered but also dry. And he comes too close to canonising More a second time. We may admire the saintly sangfroid, but it doesn’t add tension. The history lacks bite – it’s too calm. Which you might respect but ends up surprisingly lacking in drama.

Until 6 September 2025

https://www.haroldpintertheatre.co.uk

Photo by Simon Annand

2025

“The Years” at the Harold Pinter Theatre

This welcome transfer from the Almeida Theatre is a bold addition to the West End. Adapted by Eline Arbo from the work of Annie Ernaux in an English version by Stephanie Bain, it is an unapologetically highbrow piece that challenges its audience. And it’s, very, very, French. Ernaux is a public intellectual, the type you really only get across the channel. The inheritance of Proust, her work is steeped in politics and sociology. 

The Years is also moving and surprisingly entertaining. The strategy of employing five performers – Deborah Findlay, Romola Garai, Gina McKee, Anji Mohindra and Harmony Rose-Bremner – is a genius move. They all tell Ernaux’s story together, while there’s also a sense that they are telling the story of many women… albeit clever French women born just after World War II. The themes of memory and mortality, as the play takes us through a life, are extremely powerful.

Ernaux’s writing is taut and direct, and both the adaptation and Arbo’s direction do it justice. Discussions of desire are frank, there is a lot of frustration and masturbation. A scene of a backstreet abortion became notorious during its first run and is, indeed, remarkable (Garai’s performance in this scene is, literally, stunning). But every moment of the play is considered. As each cast member travels through time, there are detailed touches and moments everyone can recognise.

The Years isn’t perfect. Taking on so many roles falls flat once or twice, although Findlay and McKee are great as small boys. And the humour is repetitive. Sensual moments are fantastic, but too often the sex gets giggles (would the French find it funny?). The music (Thijs van Vuure) and movement used in the piece are hit and miss, leading to both the strongest and weakest moments. Arguably, the biggest flaw comes with notions of class, more of a concern for Ernaux than you’d think from this show. Our heroine’s background is murky; we go big on the historic repression of women but not so much on how it relates to social status.

Balancing a “collective consciousness” with a particular experience is tricky. There are a lot of dates here. A potted history is all too common on stage and, even if delivered well, is seldom effective. Likewise, the device of family photographs, which structures the show, while leading to a fabulous finale as the performers’ faces are filmed live (and illustrates the strength of Juul Dekker’s set design) is a touch overplayed. Ernaux’s intellectual curiosity is ferocious, her focus intense and the roots of both are complex. Maybe the highest praise for the production is that it preserves so much of her brilliance. 

Until 19 April 2025

www.theyearsplay.com

Photos by Helen Murray

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“Your Lie in April” at the Harold Pinter Theatre

Another adaptation of a Japanese hit has arrived in London, this time based on the eponymous manga series by Naoshi Arakawa. This musical version shares the aim and, arguably, the weakness of a concert production called Death Note from much of the same creative team – the show focuses on fans. Such admirers are numerous, and good luck to them, but other audience members might struggle.

Like a lot of coming-of-age romances, Your Lie in April is unashamedly intense. The book (by Riko Sakaguchi and then Rine B.Groff) is efficient. There’s big drama, with tragedy (I heard a lot of sniffling) and love triangles; all exacerbated by the pressure that these youngsters are training as musicians. Just how repressed the kids feel, might raise eyebrows depending on your age. But there’s a lot for the cast to work with and work hard they unquestionably do.

Zheng Xi Yong takes the lead as musical prodigy Kōsei, the “Piano King” grieving for his domineering mother (whose ghost pops up rather too often) and on a journey of self-discovery. Every song is given its all, the performer seemed genuinely overwhelmed by the end of the night. Kaori is the love interest, a rebellious violinist who wants to duet with Kōsei, but who has a sad secret. The character is flat but Mia Kobayashi, who takes the part, makes her feisty and even has a stab at adding humour. Best of all, Kobayashi has a beautiful voice – this is a superb professional debut. If the chemistry between Kōsei and Kaori isn’t great, that’s OK…we’re supposed to find them an odd couple. Their friends are less successful, their stories only foils, and the roles a waste of Rachel Clare Chan and Dean John-Wilson.

There’s a bigger problem though. The lyrics, from Tracy Miller and Carly Robyn Green, are not good: sometimes nonsensical, full of clichés and repetitious. Some of the issue comes from the relentless aim to inspire – it’s all lifting, climbing, flying, while pages are turned and characters “break out”. But nearly every line is predictable, and some are toe-curling: freedom is “really real” and “butterflies can fly”. The words make performances that should be a pleasure feel plodding.

The production is strong. Director Nick Winston keeps the action clear and quick, and makes a lot of effort to focus on emotion. There’s some excellent video design from Dan Light while the lighting, from Rory Beaton, adds a great deal. Musical contests, which structure the plot, make it easy to include the audience – the applause we add is deserved – but such moments are nonetheless highlights. If the classical pieces might be made more of within Frank Wildhorn’s score, the music offered is good; many of the songs are catchy, and a conscientious effort is made to bring in variety.

The music is professional more than inspiring though. There’s an irony here, as the story itself reflects a problem for the show. What Kōsei learns from Koari is that music is about connection rather than perfection. What drives her is the chance to “live in people’s hearts” while a stress on technique has led to disaster – Kōsei literally can’t hear the music anymore. Regardless of how sentimental or neat the idea is, the precision everyone sings long and loud about is ever present. Such polish is an achievement and provides enjoyment. But it lacks a spark, a quirk…something special. Your Lie in April could learn a lot from its own message.

Until 21 September 2024

www.yourlieinapril.co.uk

Photo by Craig Sugden

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“The Hills of California” at the Harold Pinter Theatre

With characteristic ambition and skill, playwright Jez Butterworth and director Sam Mendes have, surely, created another hit show. Following their work together on The Ferryman in 2017, this new piece can be regarded as a further meditation on storytelling, love and loyalty. It is grown-up, intelligent theatre that lives long in the mind.

The Hills of California is a family drama with four sisters reunited at their mother’s death bed. It’s a big play, as flashbacks show each woman at a younger age – and in the past we also see their mum, Veronica. Mendes and a talented cast make the action clear, the characters are all wonderful studies and the performances consistently good.

The girls, the Webb Sisters, are drilled as a singing and dancing troupe (think the Beverleys). But only one, Joan, gets a shot at fame in those titular, promised hills. The story behind this chance for success is dark. Butterworth flips effortlessly between ages, showing us dramatic events and their repercussions.

Nicola-Turner-Nancy-Allsop-Lara-McDonnell-Sophia-Ally-in-The-Hills-of-California-credit-Mark-Douet
Nicola Turner, Nancy Allsop, Lara McDonnell and Sophia Ally

There’s Jill and Ruby, timid in their youth, one staying at home and the other settling for a loveless marriage – roles that Helena Wilson and Ophelia Lovibond reveal with skill. Meanwhile, Gloria is bitter from the start, her anger lifelong, leading to a heart-wrenching performance from Leanne Best. And let’s not ignore other cast members who play the girls when they are young – Nancy Allsop, Sophia Ally, Lara Mcdonnell and Nicola Turner – who we see a lot, sound great and complement the leading roles superbly.

This is a fantastic ensemble, but the show belongs to Laura Donnelly, who plays the mother in earlier scenes and then the prodigal Joan. So, we get to see the formidable stage mother and her main victim portrayed by the same performer. The nuance Donnelly brings to both women is a fitting tribute to Butterworth’s script, complete with uncomfortable suggestions about how cold and cruel both are. There’s a danger of Donnelly taking over – at times the show feels like a showcase for her – but she gives not one but two amazing performances.

The setting – Blackpool in the late 1970s – is vividly evoked and provides a lot of humour. An interest in working-class characters is a key part, for me, of what makes Butterworth’s work stand out. And Butterworth manages better than most to get laughs without coming across as patronising. There are problems with the male roles, which are, surprisingly, close to poor. In the past, a sinister talent scout and a down at heel comedian are flat. In the 1970s, there is a better role for Sean Dooley as Gloria’s husband. But all the men make the play feel baggy.

Maybe it’s that the storytelling the men instigate (be it tales of celebrity or how a juke box works) aren’t that interesting. Or that the men don’t sound as good! Songs tell us a lot here – shared aspirations and then family memories – and they are incorporated superbly and with remarkable confidence by Mendes. Putting so much music in the production is a brilliant move. Mrs Webb describes songs as places – they are a source of promise, providing a hopeful heart to the play, and an optimistic conclusion, despite the past.

Until 15 June 2024

www.hillsofcaliforniaplay.com

Photos by Mark Douet

2023

“Dr Semmelweis” at the Harold Pinter Theatre

Medical history is the subject of this new play written by Stephen Brown and Mark Rylance, the play’s star. While the story is important, it isn’t that dramatic – we’re in the realms of research, after all, conducting experiments the audience knows the outcome of. The many successful strategies employed by director Tom Morris to add emotion are impressive. But regrettably, none quite overcomes the poor script.

The titular 19th-century Viennese doctor was one of the first to speculate about contagion and propose cleanliness as essential through his work as an obstetrician. Brown and Rylance understandably focus on women’s health. Again important, but the script relies on the role of a midwife (for some reason Irish) that’s full of clichés. Pauline McLynn, who takes the part, has an awful lot to do; not just dealing with the sexism the character encounters, but providing too many pointers to the audience about how we’re supposed to be reacting. Meanwhile, the basics are lacking: the scene could be better set, especially since rejection by the establishment is a plot point. And there might be a little more background about the state of medicine to highlight Semmelweis’ achievement.

Rylance has written a mammoth role for himself – the delivery of which is sure to impress and has secured strong reviews. Semmelweis was a troubled character: brilliant and intolerant, he ended his life in a mental institution. Intelligently, the character fits well with Rylance’s performance style, which has plenty of admirers, but is often fraught. And much of the script is verbose and predictable, clunky and declaratory. Does the portrayal convince, or is it a matter of the energy Rylance undoubtedly brings to the role? I suspect the answer depends on how much of a fan of him you are.

Rylance does power the show. But the play’s other characters suffer as a result. There are strong performances as friends and colleagues from Ewan Black, Felix Hayes and Jude Owusu, but they are simply foils – and the latter’s death seems particularly wasted. The poor wife, who spends most of the first act asking why what we are all watching was kept a secret from her, means that Amanda Wilkin’s considerable talent is wasted. Perhaps the biggest missed opportunity is Semmelweis’ nemesis at the Vienna Hospital, Johann Klein. Alan Williams’ performance in the part is good – but the play would be better if the role weren’t such a straw man.

There’s an antidote to a lot of these problems, though. The use of dance, with choreography by Antonia Franceschi and music from Adrian Sutton, comes to the rescue. Both beautiful and frightening, the show’s movement brings out mortality and violence. A quartet accompanies the action on stage and the supporting cast of patients bring the focus on to the mothers that Semmelweis saved far more effectively than his many speeches.

Until 7 October 2023

www.nationaltheatre.org.uk

Photos by

2022

‘Prima Facie” from NTLive

A sell out in the West End and due to travel to Broadway, Suzie Miller’s play is also a hit in cinemas thanks to this live recording. The neatly written monologue is motivated by a powerful sense of injustice surrounding sexual offences. The statistics shock – check out the website. The play’s important message benefits from an excellent production.

When criminal barrister Tessa becomes a victim, in a case like many she has defended, the stage is set to put the system on trial. The intelligence of the script is clear. Let’s submit as evidence the protagonist’s own position of privilege, which is used to great dramatic effect. She knows the difficulties to come, and the piece highlights an important point – if Tessa can’t get justice, what chance does anyone else have?

Miller’s writing about the law is dynamic. At first, Tessa’s excitement about her job being a kind of game is palpable, and it makes the transformation to frustration more powerful. The thrill of being a barrister might be overstated, but it works for the stage.

A slight nag cannot help but be reflected in the excellent performance from Jodie Comer. There’s a breathlessness to the first scenes that’s uncomfortable. And Tessa’s humble origin story might be more convincing. Nonetheless, Comer creates an appealing character and has a comic touch an audience can warm to.

The energy in this long monologue is consistently high – more credit for Comer. Powerful imagery guarantees applause for director Justin Martin and designers Miriam Beuther and Natasha Chivers. A bold approach is less successful when it comes to the overpowering soundtrack (composed by Self Esteem’s Rebecca Lucy Taylor and designed by Ben and Max Ringham). 

Seeing theatre in the cinema is never quite the real deal and Prima Facie is a good case in point. Comer is playing for a house, so views of her face at traumatic moments don’t seem quite fair – no seat could get that close. It’s a brave performance throughout and really cannot be praised enough.

Best of all, the show is wonderfully theatrical. Direct addresses to the audience about those statistics become so urgent you wonder if Comer herself is speaking to us. As the lights rise, do we move from drama to debate? Could the show have ended already? There is a conclusion to the story, but it is the lesson that Miller wants to teach that gives the play its power.

www.primafacieplay.com  

2022

“The Human Voice” at the Harold Pinter Theatre

Jean Cocteau’s 1928 play presents one side of a telephone conversation between a woman and her former husband. It’s an intimate piece, at times unbearable so, as the woman’s despair at the end of her marriage threatens her sanity. The Human Voice is depressing, but undeniably powerful.

With such a stripped back idea – just one woman talking – there is a sense the play is better suited to small venues. The only other production I’ve seen was in the tiny Gate Theatre. In truth, the show is a little lost on a West End stage, a problem exacerbated by Jan Versweyveld’s design for this production which reduces what we see to the size of a cinema screen.

Our current dependency on phones is presaged by Cocteau – it makes the urgency of crossed lines and calls cut off even greater than the writer imagined. Audience members struggling to last this hour long show without checking their mobiles confirms all this. But it is the feelings of someone abandoned that drive the show rather than a comment on technology.

Director Ivo Van Hove’s adaptation does well to emphasise the sophisticated emotions Cocteau documents. And the intensity in the script is brilliantly depicted by Ruth Wilson. From initially pretending she is coping well with the breakup, to totally breaking down, Wilson’s confidence in the role is brave and justified.

Moments when her character is manic, literally barking like a dog, are balanced by prolonged stillness – it’s hard to work out which is more uncomfortable. If the production has a flaw, it is that this discomfort becomes confrontational. Van Hove’s ending, suggesting suicide, is extreme. And turning parts of the script into a monologue (so that we further question the characters sanity) jar. Thankfully, Wilson’s excoriating performance manages to save the production.

Until 9 April 2022

www.thehumanvoiceplay.co.uk

2021

“Blithe Spirit” at the Harold Pinter Theatre

Richard Eyre’s revival of Noël Coward’s supernatural comedy has bells and whistles as well mentioning smells. Funny, polished and proficient, it is enjoyable”. But despite the star casting of Jennifer Saunders, the production doesn’t quite manage to sparkle.

There is plenty to impress. Anthony Ward’s grand set and illusions by Paul Kieve emphasise the spooky as Charles and Ruth are haunted by his dead wife Elvira. There are bangs, flashes and smoke. And some strange music.

As for the smells, Jennifer Saunders gives us a flatulent Madame Arcati! As the spiritualist whose séance coincides with the return of Elvira, this key role gets the over-the-top performance it deserves. And some big eyebrows. You don’t need to be a psychic to predict Saunders will do well: she proves value for money with an impressive physicality that energises the character.

While other performances are accomplished, they are less inspiring. Geoffrey Streatfeild is surprisingly flat as novelist Charles Condomine. It’s easy to see his character as a stand in for Coward himself, but there’s little sense of complexity to the part. It comes as a surprise when either wife gets vicious – he just seems amiable and there should be more.

Both wives are more interesting than Charles. There’s no shortage of stage presence. But Eyre’s direction curbs the performances: Madeleine Mantock spends nearly all her time as Elvira on tiptoes while Lisa Dillon’s Ruth makes silly noises to get laughs. Delivery of the lines is very fast. And while this is impressive technically, it means Coward’s wit is poorly served. There are jokes that are just abandoned for the sake of speed.

Rose Wardlaw in Blithe Spirit
Rose Wardlaw

Thankfully, the production isn’t just the Jennifer Saunders show. However loved, focusing on one performer doesn’t make for good theatre. Rose Wardlaw’s turn as the Condomine’s maid, Edith, is a real crowd-pleaser. Again, the comedy is physical and there’s a great spooky moment for her. Saunders and Wardlaw make the show fun if not quite as fantastic as it should be.

Until 6 November 2021

www.atgtickets.com

Photos by Nobby Clark

2021

“Anna X” at the Harold Pinter Theatre

The third and final instalment in Sonia Friedman’s Re:Emerge season is a smart-looking two-hander written by Joseph Charlton. That the West End still seems a long way off from staging bigger shows again (presumably the producer’s plan) is a disappointment. But while the play has problems, despite director Daniel Raggett’s slick production, this stylish piece is a pleasure to watch.

Achingly topical, Charlton imagines a social media shyster who takes New York and a newly rich app developer called Ariel for a ride. Masquerading as a wealthy Russian, the titular character’s Instagram captivates and cons the city with a vague plan to set up an art foundation. Plenty of observation about life online is combined with a touch of romance.

One of the problems for playwrights tackling the subject of the internet is that fiction cannot be as crazy as real life. The results are painfully predictable: the story ends up slim and silly (unbelievable, even though it is loosely based on real life events). An effort to broaden the play, to consider human nature and discuss art, feels grasped at. The latter isn’t explored enough (poor Damien Hirst seems to have a lot to answer for), while Charlton’s bleak view of people is hampered by easy cynicism.

Charlton works hard to make his characters interesting. There’s an awareness that Anna and Ariel will end up driving the play: an effort aided by strong performances from Emma Corrin and Nabhaan Rizwan. These star draws, with awards to their credit and making West End debuts, aren’t quite word perfect. Attempts at taking on secondary characters are hit and miss. But Corrin and Rizwan have a presence that helps with bumpy moments for their roles.

For neither Anna or Ariel are convincing enough. Both arrive at success too easily and, under a veneer of sophistication, are too naive. Any power they hold over people comes close to inexplicable (even Ariel’s talents as a developer seem vague). Charlton’s dialogue is a grating mixture of cliché and jargon – again, it may be accurate, but it ends up dull. And this corporate rubbish is spouted by plenty of other characters who all seem unbelievably stupid.

There is a vague frisson of pleasure at the idea that Anna’s scheme might work – that she can exploit all the “craven” greed we’re told about. But there is too little sympathy or interest for the “lame” (Anna’s description) Ariel – who isn’t a bad guy. Meanwhile, frustration with Anna’s art school profundity and carefully studied eccentricity mounts to make her tiresome, too.

Cleverly taking the play at “warp speed”, Raggett’s direction smooths out many a character flaw and makes a weak plot more exciting to watch than you might expect. The pace of the production adds excitement. The set and video work from Mikaela Liakata and Tal Yarden is excellent: the seamless projections succeed in showing a closed, claustrophobic world of wealth and create a sense of the “playground” Anna works in. It’s a shame that the set, rather than the character, is the star of the show but it at least provides the X factor for this production.

Until 4 August 2021

www.atgtickets.com

Photo by Helen Murray