Tag Archives: Helen McCrory

"The Deep Blue Sea" from NTLive

This week the National Theatre’s fund-raising offering is sheer class. Carrie Cracknell’s 2016 production of Terence Rattigan’s play is a traditional affair that oozes quality, with a solid script, stunning set and stellar performances.

The Deep Blue Sea is far from easy sailing. It starts with its heroine, Hester, having just attempted suicide, as the affair that broke her marriage is coming to an end. Concern over mental health has progressed since Rattigan was writing in 1952 but the playwright’s insight into depression offers much to learn from.

Rattigan’s preoccupation, however, is Hester’s passion. Her love for her husband, eclipsed by that for RAF pilot Freddie Paige, is fascinating. The romance is dangerous – this sea is stormy. Hester sees no chance of escaping a love that will not work: she and Freddie are “death to each other”. The production’s first triumph is to make sure Rattigan’s piece doesn’t descend into melodrama.

Tom Burke in The Deep Blue Sea. Image by Richard Hubert Smith
Tom Burke

The love triangle provides strong roles for Peter Sullivan and Tom Burke, who are excellent. Their chemistry with their leading lady is astonishing. Burke is especially strong in making the occasionally odious Freddie convincingly alluring as an “homme fatale”. But the show belongs to Helen McCrory whose performance as Hester is flawless. Sharp and wry, the mix of “anger, hatred, shame” is conveyed in every move.

There’s a sense of British reserve behind all the action, darkly adding to the potency, but McCrory and Cracknell keep this as under control as Hester’s emotions. Moments when Hester is alone and can let go – holding her face to the light or crawling on the floor in desperation – are awe-inspiring in their emotional power.

The Deep Blue Sea image by Richard Hubert Smith
Tom Schutt’s impressive set

Focusing on a sense of community within the boarding house setting, aided by Tom Schutt’s impressive set full of solicitous neighbours, means Cracknell adds to the play. A brilliant scene where Hester is joined by the women in the piece (played by Marion Bailey and Yolanda Kettle) alters our focus. It’s a move all the more remarkable given that the play, through Rattigan’s biography, is often discussed for its gay subtext.

If interested, try to track down a copy of Mike Poulton’s play Kenny Morgan, about the suicide of Rattigan’s lover (and a fascinating work in its own right). There is a danger that The Deep Blue Sea can be overpowered by this biographical note. But Cracknell has provided a space for the play to exist independently; an achievement for any revival that makes Rattigan’s script and his legacy stronger.

Until 16 July 2020

To support, visit nationaltheatre.org.uk

Photos by Richard Hubert Smith

“The Last of the Haussmans” at the National Theatre

What a cast: making a return to the stage after over a decade, national treasure Julie Walters is joined at the National Theatre by the equally superb Helen McCrory and Rory Kinnear. You might think their presence in any play should be enough, but even these performers can’t hide the problems in new playwright Stephen Beresford’s debut, The Last of the Haussmans.

The story of an old hippy, Judy – played by Walters with great energy – and her discontented family, starts well: it’s a gentle comedy, with Chekhovian spirit and naughtiness on the right side of rude. Kinnear is captivating and McCrory wonderfully deadpan, while her long-suffering daughter, played by Isabella Laughland, does remarkably well to hold her own against the more experienced thespians.

But after the interval Beresford’s attempts to add a serious edge fall flat. It seems we have another play about the baby boomer generation, and the disgruntled offspring’s desperation for property, but this now familiar theme feels tacked on and unconvincing. There is little exploration of what Judy’s politics were – surely more than just something to laugh at – and the sheer self-centeredness of her children beggars belief.

Director Howard Davies and the cast’s comic skills fail to hide the one-dimensionality of Beresford’s characters. Following her script, Walter’s portrayal becomes slightly too broad and the fate of the children a touch sordid. Ultimately, the family’s demise fails to move or hold real interest. At the risk of sounding uncharitable, it’s probably no bad thing that they are, indeed, the last of the Haussmans.

Until 10 October 2012

www.nationaltheatre.org

Photo by Catherine Ashmore

Written 22 June 2012 for The London Magazine