Tag Archives: Kristin Scott Thomas

“Talking Heads” at the Bridge Theatre

Four out of eight… that’s not some strange rating for these shows, far from it, but the number I’ve managed to see in this series of Alan Bennett monologues. The tickets are reasonably priced, the staff on top of social distancing, and creative director Nicholas Hytner’s idea of bringing his lockdown TV shows to the stage (where they clearly belong) is a simply brilliant.

The Shrine & Bed Among the Lentils

First up is Monica Dolan’s brilliant portrayal of a grieving widow. Learning about her husband’s life – after his death – her version of Clifford the bird watcher has to expand to include Cliff the biker. The Shrine is sensitive and often funny. It’s classic Bennett territory, with plenty of wry observation. And an important point about how individual bereavement is.

The accompanying piece has Lesley Manville’s turn as an “upstanding Anglican lady”. Battles with her husband the Vicar, and his fan club parishioners, start well. But does competitive flower arranging sit uncomfortably alongside the AA meetings the character ends up at? It’s Manville who makes the extramarital affair here seem something magical. Another performance not to miss. Both pieces are directed with a sure hand by Hytner.

The Hand of God & The Outside Dog

Another piece is also mostly noticeable for its performance. Did you ever imagine Kristen Scott Thomas could ‘do’ frumpy? The Hand of God is a touch predictable but, with an affecting melancholic air there’s no doubt this is another of Bennett’s strong characters. Playing a small-time antiques dealer, with humour coming from her snobbery, is a real achievement on Scott Thomas’s part.

More impressive – as the performance is excellent and the writing surprising – is The Outside Dog where Bennett moves to less familiar ground. A serial killer’s wife, a role Rochenda Sandall gets lots from, in a script that twists like a thriller. It’s plot driven but note its brevity. While the TV might drag a serial out of something like this (and we’ve all seen plenty on Netflix lately) Bennett and director Nadia Fall cram mystery, drama and emotion in a quarter of an hour – fantastic!

There are four more big stars to come – Lucian Msamati, Imelda Staunton, Tamsin Grieg and Maxine Peake – in two more double bills. This may be bite size theatre, but the season is a big achievement.

Until 31 October 2020

www.bridgetheatre.co.uk

Photos by Zach Harrison

“Electra” at the Old Vic

Frank McGuinness’ version of Electra is currently playing at the Old Vic. Directed by Ian Rickson, with satisfying confidence, this no-nonsense version of Sophocles’ tragedy, about a daughter’s revenge on her mariticidal mother, is direct and powerful.

This is a fine production with Kristin Scott Thomas in the title role. She’s the star attraction, but it should be stressed that the whole cast is strong. Diana Quick is suitably regal as the detested mother Clytemnestra and Jack Lowden gives a moving depth to Electra’s prodigal brother Orestes.

Hauteur has been a career specialty for Scott Thomas and, since Electra is a princess, it’s used to advantage here. But this is a remarkably earthy performance, free from vanity and physically charged. She is dynamic, pacing around as if caged. Even when on the ground, little of her body touches the earth. Convulsed with grief, every muscle is expressive. And animalistic: her centre of gravity is low and every sense heightened to suggest a hunted figure. This intimation of the feral doesn’t disappear with a cry of joy as Orestes reappears – Electra sniffs her brother as if to confirm that he is one of her brood.

As well as its easy appeal, McGuinness’ text gets to the heart of the tale with efficiency. Along with the horror of the story, dilemmas are presented cogently with an emphasis on religion that Rickson develops.
Quick and Lowden both represent the questions surrounding their bloody family legacy well. The urgency of Electra’s need for justice, which creates a manic “fire in her head”, is balanced with cogent arguments, delineated by Scott Thomas with eviscerating intelligence.

Until 20 December 2015

www.oldvictheatre.com

Photo by Johan Persson

Written 8 October 2014 for The London Magazine

“Old Times” at the Harold Pinter Theatre

The scenario is straightforward: a woman visits her old, now married, friend after many years. The exposition less so. As the three reminisce, memories become distorted and history manipulated, as they battle for supremacy in their accounts of the past. Old Times is a fascinating exploration of relationships and has a mysterious edge, it keeps the truth about this trio hidden, and as a result this play is as gripping as it is intelligent.

Director Ian Rickson is experienced with Harold Pinter’s work, and it shows. The writer loved triangular relationships, he was a master with them, and this skill is matched in a careful, rich, production. The acting is intense, intentionally affected, with every word and gesture full of potential: the possibility of a laugh or a slap. The dialogue is a constant competition, and the heavyweight cast – Kristin Scott Thomas, Lia Williams and Rufus Sewell – all excel at it. Each manages to traverse the fine line between humour and suspense that is peculiar to Pinter. It’s a surprise to see how much fun they seem to have. Sewell brings an impishness to his role, at times camp, as well as the requisite menace as his character tries to dominate the group. His development into what Pinter described as “a man defeated by women” is a huge achievement. Scott Thomas and Williams bring real charge and their every physical interaction bristles with sexual tension.

A common theory about Old Times is that the two actresses play different sides of the same person, a concept given weight here by Scott Thomas and Williams alternating their roles. But some (or all?) of the characters might be dead, in some kind of Satre-esque Hell, or they might just be plain silly with some peculiar kinks going on. Whatever your idea Old Times is always captivating.

For my money this is a problem play that you aren’t supposed to solve. The wonder of it is in its construction, like the dynamics of the relationships that it explores – it’s enough to see these picked apart and rebuilt over and over. Pinter toys with the audience. The joy of Rickson’s production is to see that game played so well.

Until 6 April 2013

Photo by Simon Annand

Written 4 February 2013 for The London Magazine