Tag Archives: Lucy Black

“The Cord” at the Bush Theatre

Parenting, with a focus on fatherhood, is the subject of this new play written and directed by Bijan Sheibani. Intense and poetic, it sees a trio of brilliant actors examine emotions and experiences around having a child.

Ash and Anya are new parents. Overwhelmed by their love for little Louie, the everyday dramas – around grandparents or restarting a sex life – are overshadowed by bigger issues. Sheibani handles tension with subtlety, as do Irfan Shamji and Eileen O’Higgins, who take the roles and are convincing as being sleep deprived and on the edge. There’s a continual refrain that problems are not a big deal. So when arguments escalate, the atmosphere is especially fraught.

Ash’s status as a new father – indeed his whole life – seems overshadowed by his mother, Jane, who suffered from post-natal depression. Again, there is a surface calm, brilliantly portrayed by Lucy Black. But any pretended ease – over not seeing her grandchild or worrying for her own son – is effortful. When the arguments really start, there are painful home truths. Black’s performance is controlled and powerful.

All the emotion is emphasised by the composer and cellist Colin Alexander, who joins the actors, his harmonics echoing the action brilliantly. Oliver Fenwick’s lighting design is also strong, with a huge light box overhead subtly shifting colours. The whole production is stylish, with a heightened air, but it’s a shame some of the miming isn’t better.

Jane doesn’t have a lot of time for the possibility that Ash might be suffering. Does the audience? It’s a further tribute to Shamji’s performance that his character has appeal (although I wonder how much responses to the role depend on whether or not you’ve given birth). Ash does seem to want the focus of the women to return to him. And that’s hard to get past.

There’s another problem that might prove increasingly annoying… Ash’s Dad is around – he is mentioned several times and the two talk. It seems odd that Ash doesn’t speak to his own father about fatherhood. At least, there might be an explanation as to why this conversation doesn’t happen. It’s a stumble in such a detailed, focused work. The script is so skilful, I’ve no doubt the decision is deliberate, but it seems such a glaring omission that it skewers the whole play.

Until 25 May 2024

www.bushtheatre.co.uk

Photos by Manuel Harlan

“Linck & Mülhahn” at the Hampstead Theatre

A true story about a gender-nonconforming couple in 18th-century Germany has been rescued from history by playwright Ruby Thomas. The source material – predictably, records of a trial – is scant but has served as the inspiration for a fulsome and rewarding script.

Anastasius Linck was born female but lived as a man and had a military career before marriage to Catharina Mülhahn in 1720. The subsequent trial of both offered Thomas what must have been tempting opportunities (Linck spent time as a prophet!) that have been condensed to present a focused show with epic qualities of romance and history.

If it crosses your mind that Linck & Mülhahn sounds sentimental or worthy, the sparkling script corrects this quickly. There is a wicked balance of old and new idioms that is a delight. Some of the metaphors are heavy, but plenty have charm. And the dialogue is fun!

The serious subject and often playful tone make great titular roles for Maggie Bain and Helena Wilson, who are both excellent. There’s a strong part, too, for Mülhahn’s mother, where Lucy Black gets to show off comedy skills before revealing her character’s spite and becoming an interesting villain.

Director Owen Horsley gives us romance but stops the lovers becoming too sweet by emphasising their wit. It’s a shame that contemporary music breaks up the scenes – it feels a lazy way to make the show feel modern – but Simon Wells’ deceptively simple set is highly effective.

There are a lot of philosophers mentioned in the play (although, interestingly, not Kierkegaard, who I suspect is closest to Thomas’ heart), which is an easy way to get big questions aired. All the talk of “essences” might be explored more. And the intellectual atmosphere of the age is evoked a little loudly. But the play’s attempts to respect history, avoiding modern labels for its protagonists, while making contemporary concerns clear and moving, is impressive. There’s an excellent sense of balance and directness throughout Linck & Mülhahn that shows intelligence.

Maggie-Bain-and-Helena-Wilson-in-Linck-&-Mülhahn-final-credit-Helen-Murray

It’s no plot spoiler to reveal that in real life the story ends sadly. So, getting the Queer Joy that’s topical (and so welcome that I’ve capitalised it) is hard. Fear not, as Thomas makes every effort and is aided by Marty Cruickshank, who plays Mülhahn’s older self. This is not a big role, but Cruickshank might just end up the star of the show – recounting the sheer bliss of her marriage provides the “light” the play is explicit about wanting.

The trial scene is uncomfortable but is tackled as an odd blend of humour and inspiration. Stock judges and lawyers – pompous, sharp or asleep – are there to be laughed at. We can applaud those who testify for Linck – and both concluding speeches. But the final cheers are for the writer, Thomas. The parting between the couple is wonderfully romantic and a fanciful touch that brings us into the present provides a heart-stopping ending.

Until 14 March 2023

www.hampsteadtheatre.com

Photos by Helen Murray

“The Memory of Water” at the Hampstead Theatre

As part of the “Hampstead Originals” season, celebrating significant pieces that started off at the venue, this new production reminds us why Shelagh Stephenson’s 1996 play is popular. A satisfying comedy drama and a gift to performers, The Memory of Water has plenty to please.

Within the scenario of three sisters together before their mother’s funeral, Stephenson injects a surprising amount of comedy with a superb ear for dialogue and strong characters. Take your pick from doctor Mary, health food entrepreneur Teresa or the troubled, younger, Catherine. Each has an appeal. And there are three top notch performances to enjoy – from Laura Rogers, Lucy Black and Carolina Main – each a careful detailed study.

The Memory of Water at the Hampstead Theatre
Lucy Black, Carolina Main and Laura Rogers

There are good jokes, inappropriate reactions and a down to earth humour that is great fun. Stephenson examines sibling relations with confidence and risqué insight. Meanwhile the theme of memory proves stimulating (if not particularly subtle when it comes to Mary’s research into amnesia) as the sisters’ recollections of their past, and their mother, diverge.

After the interval, The Memory of Water gets bolder and darker. Painful truths and shocking secrets are revealed. The grief within the play becomes multi-layered. And we start to take Catherine’s health problems more seriously. Harsh words are spoken and the action is frequently gripping.

It is with quieter moments that director Alice Hamilton’s command of the play is clearest. While the comedy is strong (with Catherine’s tantrums, Teresa’s neurosis and Mary’s deadpan lines) it’s the pacing of more dramatic scenes that really impresses. Ever alert to the space the text needs, and aided by Johanna Town’s lighting design, Hamilton guides the audience magnificently. Given Sam Yates’ success with the venue’s previous show, Hampstead Theatre is clearly a home for directing talent.

The Memory of Water at the Hampstead Theatre
Kulvinder Ghir and Adam James

While there’s no doubt that The Memory of Water is a play focused on women, and their relationships with one another, Stephenson deals just as well with the men we meet. Indeed, even the girls’ father, long dead, is a vivid presence. Again, there are great roles for Teresa’s husband and Mary’s married lover that Kulvinder Ghir and Adam James do well with.

A final strength with The Memory of Water comes from the ghostly role of the girls’ mother, Vi. Played by Lizzy McInnerny, with a particularly fine study of her character’s accent, her interactions with Rogers were my favourite scenes. Vi is far more than a foil for her daughter: gifted her own voice, showing us a previous generation, and adding a twist to what we have seen. Vi is funny and hurt while her maternal legacy and suffering from Alzheimer’s takes us to the heart of the play’s theme. Stephenson’s description of the cruel disease, that Vi feels “broken into islands”, is brilliant and moving. As Vi’s influence on her daughters becomes clearer, McInnerny becomes magisterial. Despite Mary’s request, Vi is “never” really going to leave her daughter; like the play, she is a woman to remember.

Until 16 October 2021

www.hampsteadtheatre.com

Photos by Helen Murray

“Drawing the Line” from #HampsteadTheatreAtHome

The history and politics of the Indian Partition may be messy as well as tragic, but this play about the five weeks leading up to independence by Howard Benton, first seen in 2014, is a neat one. The “impossible task” of dividing a subcontinent and the creation of Pakistan is made into a traditional, efficient and fascinating drama.

The sensible move is to make such a global event a personal story, focusing on Cyril Radcliffe the judge who literally drew the lines on the map. It makes a starring role that (the sadly late) Tom Beard shines with and gives the audience an effective focus. Beard makes a fine narrator with a character that’s engaging and self-deprecating. There’s a believable touch of ego behind a likeable man. That this unusual innocent abroad knows “bugger all about India” is historically awful, but it endears him as a dramatic character. As pressure mounts Beard gets better and better, showing Radcliffe’s vulnerability and determination. As it dawns on him that that he is a “patsy”, and a lonely one at that, we are shown an honourable man it is hard not to feel for.

There are problems with the other characters – a collection of famous historical figures – that the cast struggles with valiantly. While the future Pakistani leader Muhammad Ali Jinnah (Silas Carson, pictured top) comes across as too manic, Indian’s first Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru is too much the consummate politician. Louis Mountbatten, last Viceroy of India, and his wife are given a lot of work to do and, while Andrew Havill and Lucy Black give strong performances, it’s difficult to care about their characters. The staff helping these (too self-consciously) political giants prove more interesting: there is strong work from Nikesh Patel and Brendan Patricks, whose characters work for Radcliffe but have partisan agendas and follow their own consciences.

Benton generally keeps anecdote to a minimum with some surprisingly light touches. With Howard Davies’ skilful direction, the action is clear and interest never flags. Davies also excels at creating a sense of tension with minimal staging or effects. The only slip comes with Radcliffe’s reading of the Bhagavad Gita, a potentially interesting thread that seems bungled, with a brief appearance by Krishna himself.

Understandably, Drawing the Line struggles for a conclusion. The aim of an “honourable end to Empire”, given hindsight, can’t create much tension. But Brenton isn’t scared of scandal or conspiracy and he uses both well. There’s the militant Gandhi and the Mountbattens’ private lives to spice things up. How much both really influenced or could have changed events seems open questions: flippant as both titbits may appear, they make for good theatre.

www.hampsteadtheatre.com

Available until 19 April 2020

Photos by Catherine Ashmore

“The York Realist” at the Donmar Warehouse

The clue is in the title. Peter Gill’s romantic drama shows us a Yorkshire farming family, in the early 1960s, with daring verisimilitude. The love affair between a visiting theatre director, working on a production of the Mystery Plays, and a local amateur actor in his cast, opens up a time and place with startling particularity. Every lyrical line rings true – many will raise a smile, other are heart breaking – with a tone that is bravely quiet. It is in understanding this understatement that director Robert Hastie shows his appreciation and secures a superb revival for the piece.

The two well-written lead roles result in wonderful performances. Jonathan Bailey is the arty thespian, out of place in the countryside, carefully controlling the character’s urbane sophistication to make sure he is vulnerable and hugely likeable. Ben Batt is local farmer, George. It’s hard not to see him as heroic, a fantasy figure, so Batt does well to reveal depth: an amount of arrogance, some selfishness, a little fear behind the confidence all make him as intriguing as he is believable. The erotic tension between the men is palpable – this is a sexy play, and it’s remarkable to note we only see the two men touch once.

Being so low-key places particular demands on a cast. It’s an achievement from the whole ensembles to embrace the nuances in Gill’s writing, and conveying that restraint isn’t the same thing as repression. Lesley Nicol gives a stand-out performance as George’s mother, only hinting at her ill health in a fashion that strikes a chord with anyone who has had older relatives who are sick. The relationship with her son is a second love story in the play, equally rich in detail and resonance. And Lucy Black and Katie West give strong performances as two other women in George’s life, his sister and potential fiancée, both fully realised and offering yet more insight into the time and community.

The York Realist is a nostalgic piece, and whether this is good or bad is a matter of taste. Inspired by Gill’s own time working in York, a look back at his youth and a bygone age is bound to have a rosy tint. And there’s the period detail in Peter McKintosh’s meticulous set. Seeing the production at the Donmar (it transfers to Sheffield) the north-south divide often alluded too gets a few too many middle-class laughs. But the play itself is refreshingly free of condescension towards working-class life. There is a sense of calm that shows the steely determination in the writing: only one reference to the police indicates the illegality of the men’s acts, and George is comfortable with his sexuality so any angst is minimalised. What happens to the romance is sad, no doubt, as it’s the distance in class that separates them. But there’s little trace of the victim about either man, making the play an empowering, memorable pleasure.

Until 24 March 2018

www.donmarwarehouse.com

The production then transfers to Sheffield Theatres until the 7 April

Photo by Craig Fleming