Tag Archives: Harold Pinter Theatre

“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

“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

‘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  

“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

“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

“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

“J’ouvert” at the Harold Pinter Theatre

Although the Notting Hill carnival has been cancelled for the second year running, theatre-goers can get closer than ever to the spirit of the event with Yasmin Joseph’s play.

Using the specific term to describe the street party element of Carnival, Joseph opens up interesting topics, from cultural history to issues around class, gender, and race. 

It’s not easy to raise so many issues so well. And Joseph doesn’t shy away from controversial tensions within and between groups that show complex legacies and lives. Expertly marshalled by director Rebekah Murrell, we’re given time to consider thoughts so skilfully provoked.

This all sounds serious. And J’ouvert is… As we follow two friends around for the day, there is plenty of menace and pain. Nadine is preparing to compete as a dancer and Jade about to give her first speech as an activist. Joseph balances a concern for heritage, where Nadine communes with the past (scenes that aid the show’s pace), and Jade’s passion for a better future (which ends, sorry for the spoiler, in a barn-storming speech). Both women’s passions add to the tension and, meanwhile, they are pursued by lechers and censorious relatives. But J’ouvert is also very funny.

“Fear and joy”

In the spirit of release that characterises Carnival, plenty of the problems addressed benefit from Joseph’s ability as a comedic writer. There are throwaway observations that have spark and sometimes a spike, and there’s a line in insults that would make many of a stand-up comic envious. Having her cast impersonate men of different ages provides more than one highlight. And with such chances in the script, the cast proves thrilling.

Taking a third character first, Annice Boparai’s Nisha is a fine target for humour. As she campaigns to improve the area (she has badges), to label her as ‘woke’ is easy enough. But both Boparai and Joseph add skilfully to the role, showing us a character who is lost, vulnerable and genuinely well-meaning. It’s a part full of surprises that reflects the play’s combination of troubles and jokes.

There’s no question that, as Nadine and Jade, Gabrielle Brooks and Sapphire Joy have the appropriate star quality for these great parts. And these are fantastic performances. But note how cleverly Joseph flips the focus between the two. Is a link to ghosts our focus or a burgeoning political consciousness? Of course, with a play this good it is both.

Originally seen at the Theatre 503, the fear that the show might feel lost on a West End stage must have crossed minds. But that doesn’t happen for a moment. Aided by Zuyane Russell as a DJ, the palpable energy in this production is fantastic. Bearing in mind we only see four performers, dance and personality fill the theatre admirably. J’ouvert is a play to celebrate.

Until 3 July 2021

www.atgtickets.com/shows/jouvert/harold-pinter-theatre

“Walden” at the Harold Pinter Theatre

It’d be lovely to roundly cheer producer Sonia Friedman’s idea of bringing new writing to the stage as the West End reopens. And bravo to director Ian Rickson and the performers of this first show of the ‘Re:Emerge Season’. Unfortunately, Amy Berryman’s debut play only musters polite applause.

Walden is the story of estranged scientist sisters Cassie and Stella, with Stella’s fiancé Bryan thrown in. Cassie’s just got back from the moon – the job Stella wanted – and is visiting the off-grid cabin her sister has retreated to. You can’t call Berryman’s writing bad – it’s studied, careful and competent – but it is predictable, and the story is thin.

One hour, 40 minutes is a long time to spend on sibling rivalry. With the legacy of their father’s space travel adding little, and a former love interest’s sketchy presence, the conflict between the sisters isn’t firmly grounded. It’s Gemma Arterton and Lydia Wilson’s performances as the sisters that hold the interest and bring conviction to the, admittedly detailed, roles. The only tension, as moments of passion and conflict fluctuate, comes with trying to work out which sister is really the coldest or most damaged… or which is the least likeable.

The near-future sci-fi elements of the play aren’t original (the same old climate catastrophe and mass migration) and nothing new is done with them. There’s a conspiracy theory (of course), this time a nasty Nasa. And a debate over moving to the moon feels tacked on – only phraseology is discussed – Cassie doesn’t like the word ‘Colony’.

It is with the character of Bryan – which Fehinti Balogun does a brilliant job with – that the play really shows its flaws. Too obviously introduced to create discussion – he is an ‘Earth Advocate’ opposed to science – it is solely Balogun’s skill that makes watching the character bearable. Only there to serve up questions to the other characters, which are subsequently ignored, Bryan’s own backstory is tacked on in almost insulting fashion. Frustratingly, Bryan should be essential – it is his “life in the woods” that the action is set in. 

Apart from a cabin, there’s little of Henry David Thoreau in the play that takes the name of his famous retreat and book – surely a missed opportunity? There are plenty of influential ideas in Thoreau that could be explored, but any you might think connect with the play are only superficial. At best a brief discussion of Thoreau allows us to make up our mind about Cassie: describing him as a “whiney hipster” could confirm your opinion about her – I was ready to see her off the planet as soon as she said it!

It’s great to see performers on a stage again. And these are great performers, well directed. But it’s frustrating to see so little done with the stage. Waldenv could easily be a radio play. Indeed, a therapy session might be a more accurate description? More than once, characters ask one another “Tell me what you’re feeling”, before we settle down to a description. Too many scenes are duologues with forced debate.

An unresolved ending indicates how lost the script becomes. Despite the performances, it’s hard to care what happens to either sister. There’s a lot of talk of purpose in the play but too few interesting questions are raised or developed, leaving Walden itself with little point.

Until 12 June 2021

www.sfp-reemergeseason.com

"Uncle Vanya" at the Harold Pinter Theatre

For a play with so much unrequited love among its characters, Conor McPherson’s adaptation of Chekhov’s classic is quite the comedy. The production emphasises the humour in the original, adds some knowing laughs at our expectations of Russian gloom and isn’t even shy to try some slapstick. It makes for one of the most entertaining Chekhovs I’ve seen and deserves huge success as a result.

Toby Jones gets the laughs as the long-suffering titular character, in love with Yelena who has married into his extended family. It’s nice to be reminded of what a natural comedian Jones is, even if there are moments when you might want to feel for his hound-dog character a little more.

Rosalind Eleazar and Aimee Lou Wood in Uncle Vanya at the Harold Pinter Theatre
Rosalind Eleazar and Aimee Lou Wood

Yelena, a sympathetic figure with the help of Rosalind Eleazar’s excellent depiction, has to deal with Vanya’s attentions while being caught in a love triangle with her step-daughter Sonya and the local doctor, Astrov. McPherson surprises again with a sweetness about the romances that comes primarily from Aimee Lou Wood’s brilliant portrayal of Sonya’s crush.

Richard Armitage in Uncle Vanya at the Harold Pinter Theatre
Richard Armitage

For both women, scenes with Richard Armitage’s Astrov, while full of sexual tension, contain a pragmatism that takes out some of their sting. It’s an idea that comes into its own at the play’s conclusion. I didn’t quite buy Astrov as a “helpless animal” because of his passion. By the end it seems I am not supposed to; life goes on despite the trials of the human condition.

Behind the humour, Uncle Vanya is all exhaustion and anhedonia – does this ring hollow amongst the laughter? Or has McPherson created a new tonality for us to consider? There’s no doubting the crispness of his writing or his strong vision. Aided by Ian Rickson’s direction, each household member makes a distinct impression and the action is easy to follow – the production is exceptionally clear. The speech is unintimidating: characters even blow raspberries, expletives are used wisely and monologues direct to the audience provide an intimacy that feels natural.

Dearbhla Molloy in Uncle Vanya at the Harold Pinter Theatre
Dearbhla Molloy

As for McPherson’s ideas, quite rightly, he focuses on the women in the play. Along with Eleazar and Wood, there’s superb support from Anna Calder-Marshall and Dearbhla Molloy. Like most of the characters, Vanya is obsessed by his years – he’s reached the grand age of 47 (makes a man think). But McPherson’s show is marked by youthful appeal. Concerns about the forest (made graphic with the Doctor’s hobby of historical map making) ring environmental alarms that feel topical. And the play’s final words go to the next generation. Sonya’s will to struggle on ends the show on an appropriately optimistic note. There may be only one candle as the curtain descends, but there’s plenty of light.

Until 2 May 2020

www.unclevanyaplay.com

Photography by Johan Persson

“Pinter 1 & 2” at the Harold Pinter Theatre

Director Jamie Lloyd has an unerring ability to surround his projects with excitement. His latest scheme is to present short works by Harold Pinter in a six-month-long series of carefully curated and stylishly packaged shows (they really should sell a T-shirt). The project boasts an array of stars – young and old – which indicates that everyone wants to work with Lloyd and offers the chance to see rarely performed works.

The season – and Pinter 1 – get off to a bang courtesy of confetti cannons and Press Conference, which stars a commanding Jonjo O’Neill as a sinister politician. It sets the scene for a first half of plays that show a variety of dystopias. Sometimes the shorts come across as dated, too simplistic and full of conspiracy. Or should we see the paranoia as prescient? A Donald Trump impersonation in The Pres and an Officer, a newly discovered satirical skit, suggests Lloyd does.

Maggie Steed and Paapa Essiedu

The way Pinter encapsulates the most basic fears surrounding the breakdown of society makes them raw and moving. Mountain Language reduced me to tears, with Maggie Steed as an elderly mother confronting her tortured son and forbidden to speak to him. And the tension Pinter can create becomes almost unbearable with One for the Road, which stars Antony Sher as a truly chilling interrogator, alongside Paapa Essiedu and Kate O’Flynn as his victims. The paranoia moves into a domestic setting for the evening’s finale, Ashes to Ashes, which sees a couple recounting an affair and an atrocity, both products of a deranged mind. It’s a too puzzling piece, held together by the direction of Lia Williams and passionate performances from O’Flynn and Essiedu.

Pinter 2 is a double bill of plays that look at infidelity, both from the 1960. First up is The Lover, where a squeaky clean couple discuss their affairs over breakfast and perform a bizarre role play. Surely this once appeared more challenging than it does today, and the point seems overplayed – even at just under an hour, the play drags. The boredom isn’t Lloyd’s fault – his direction is snappy and the whole show stylish thanks to the saturated colours of Soutra Gilmour’s designs. But while the piece is a comedy, the absurd is emphasised to a fault. Hayley Squires and John Macmillan perform well, but their characters are flattened, reduced to puppets. In fact, their shadows catch the eye more than they do (Elliot Griggs’ lighting design is superb).

John Macmillan and Russell Tovey

This second evening improves a little with The Collection, where Squires and Macmillan benefit from meatier, if shorter, roles taking on another suspected affair and a confrontation between the husband and the man his wife says seduced her. Russell Tovey plays a wide boy who taunts the cuckolded Macmillan while his flatmate, David Suchet, looks on. Lloyd employs a broad brush again, and the cast clearly has fun, but a degree of tension is retained. The older man and his younger counterpart, from the slums it is said, make for a disconcerting mix of sex, class and violence that’s the real deal.


Until 20 October 2018

www.pinteratthepinter.com

Photos by Marc Brenner