Tag Archives: Michael Balogun

“The Lehman Trilogy” at the Gillian Lynne Theatre

Returning to London after a successful Broadway run, this hit show has a sense of confidence – fully deserved – that infuses the whole piece. Telling a story that starts in 1844, with only three performers, has its own kind of grandeur. Director Sam Mendes shows his skill as a brilliant storyteller.

Michael Balogun, Hadley Fraser and Nigel Lindsay perform as narrators as well as taking the roles of the Lehman brothers, their sons and grandsons. They also fill in for a variety of secondary characters, which means a lot of accents that, naturally, impresses. They never leave the stage – three hours and 20 minutes in total – and never lose focus.

It all seems simple. There’s some strong video and sound design from Luke Halls and Nick Powell. And Es Devlin’s set doesn’t change, although it does revolve. But it’s the impeccable manner with which Mendes paces the action in Ben Power’s adaption of Stefano Massini’s book that is the real success: key events build in momentum balanced by quiet moments of great stillness.

The-Lehman-Trilogy-West-End-2023-credit-Mark-Douet

All the style and intelligence the show can boast is needed, given an odd script filled with poor humour. On the page, the dialogue must be horribly portentous. It’s not that the story isn’t interesting – rags to riches plus a potted history of America through the lens of finance. But there are more facts than ideas here. Oh, and frustratingly, the play explains little about the collapse of the Lehman bank.

The script and the action are clear, but there are a lot of recurrent lines, weighty metaphors and an odd mythic vibe that clunks along with tragedy, fire and flood – I was expecting horsemen at one point but guess that would have needed a fourth member of the cast. Epics often contain a good deal about gods: here there are self-consciously supernatural suggestions – the breath of inspiration – while the prodigious use of hindsight is, you might argue, unbelievable.

The emotional drivers are family and mortality, as we see the men age and die. The play is often moving. And the family proves inspirational… after a fashion. From selling cloth to cotton, and from selling the idea of reconstructing a community to the idea of consumption itself, their progress is spectacular. It seems there was always a dash of showmanship in the business. As with this production, the Lehmans’ achievements had confidence as the key.

Until 20 May 2023

www.thelehmantrilogy.com

Photos by Mark Douet

“The Death of England: Delroy” at the National Theatre

While its back catalogue of broadcasts from NTLive was a blessing during lockdown, being back on the South Bank for a show in real life is the real deal. For those lucky enough to have caught the brief window of performances, before a second closure, this new play by Clint Dyer and Roy Williams was a very special occasion.

An introduction from creative director Rufus Norris, justifiably proud of his theatre getting back into action, added to the atmosphere. The caution shown around protecting customers is clear: there are allocated tables before being taken to seats and – beware – last orders for pre-show drinks is in the afternoon.

What of the play selected to welcome theatre devotees back? As well as the important subject matter of racism, Death of England: Delroy is topical. After seeing shows years old, it’s good to be reminded of how quickly theatre can respond to current concerns.

A sort of sequel to their show last year, Dyer and Williams develop a character mentioned in their previous monologue, Death of England. Recounting a “very bad day” Delroy has had – quite randomly – this likeable character runs into trouble with the police. Serious consequences include estranging him from partner and new-born child.

The show provides a starring role for Michael Balogun who is superb. It’s amazing to learn he was drafted into the project last minute. A rapid-fire delivery shows remarkable confidence with the script. And his level of energy over 90 minutes is astounding.

Welcome as the show is, it would be wrong to say it’s perfect. The Olivier is an unforgiving space at the best of times and the Covid-reduced seating feels particularly detrimental. All the more credit to Balogun for creating an atmosphere that ranges from convivial to confrontational.

The unusual conditions can’t be avoided. But Dyer’s direction creates problems too. It’s understandable that all aspects of design (the set by Ultz, lighting by Jackie Shemesh and sound by Pete Malkin) want to show off what the National is capable off. Like us, the team is thrilled to be back in the theatre. But does this show need any extras? Loud, dazzling, effects and some pretty naff props (including an explosion of confetti) are not needed with such a strong script.

Because the text itself really is excellent. The bravura language, which Delroy aptly describes as a “riot in my mouth” is provocative and funny. The ease with which ideas are raised is impressive, including arguments both enlightening and far-fetched (a motivation for voting to leave Europe is worth a raised eyebrow). There’s anger alongside a cool recognition of “colour class bullshit” that pervades all aspects of Delroy’s life. Putting the spotlight on privilege couldn’t be more timely; Dyer and Williams are experts at it.

www.nationaltheatre.org.uk

Photo by Normski Photography