Tag Archives: Niamh Cusack

“That Face” at the Orange Tree Theatre

It’s hard to believe Polly Stenham was just 19 when she wrote her award-winning play. Fifteen years after its première at the Royal Court, this solid, focused writing feels just as fresh, while its harsh yet humorous look at mental health is as urgent as ever.

Parentification is the theme (that’s from the programme) as mother Martha is looked after by young son Henry. These are tremendous roles for Niamh Cusack and Kasper Hilton-Hille. Cusack’s experience means she can make her character magnetic. While her actions are upsetting, even inexcusable, traces of the woman she was before illness are clear. Martha’s own trauma makes her sympathetic and her love for Henry is twisted but indisputable. Hilton-Hille makes a professional stage debut whose precociousness mirrors Stenham’s back in 2007. It is heart-wrenching to see how the youth has tried to save his mother and the impact it has had. Henry is “a good boy with bad parents” but there is a frightening rage to the writing and performance that Hilton-Hille conveys brilliantly.


Youth is what we’re about – which makes sense – but also makes Martha a mystery. And the only other adult role suffers. Dominic Mafham does an excellent job as the absent father, arriving from Hong Kong late in the day. But while the character deserves the blame he gets, such finger pointing comes close to simplistic and his inclusion in the play feels rushed.

That-Face-Kasper-Hilton-Hille-and-Ruby-Stokes-credit-Johan-Perrson
Kasper Hilton-Hille and Ruby Stokes

On firmer ground, the play tries hard to be more than a shocker, and director Josh Seymour does well to bring out ambivalence – Martha and her boy aren’t allowed to steal the show. A daughter provides an excellent role for Ruby Stokes, a second fantastic stage debut, who impresses with precious moments of restraint. She’s a foil, for sure, but still a full character – and funny. A schoolfriend is also successfully written and gives us another performance to praise, this time from Sarita Gabony. Both girls could be dismissed as spoiled brats – Stenham has a keen eye for privilege in many forms -until you see what they are going through.

There’s no doubt that That Face is fraught, possibly too much so for all tastes. But, importantly, much of the drama and self-indulgence is not just because of the teenagers. Martha’s “upside down world” is too obvious at times. And the “nightmarish quality” (cleverly reflected in Eleanor Bull’s design, which includes an excellent revolving bed) referred to is far from subtle. There are lots of uncomfortable moments that Seymour handles bravely. If some of decisions might be better suited to a less intimate venue, that might bode well for the show’s future. I could see a transfer for this one – the play and production deserve it.

Until 7 October 2023

www.orangetreetheatre.co.uk


Photos by Johan Perrson

“Unfaithful” at Found 111

Multi award-winning playwright Owen McCafferty’s intense tale of adultery has a perfect home in this small pop-up theatre on Charing Cross Road. A traverse staging emphasises intimacy. No opportunity is lost to bring the play close to us; the actors help with scene changes and watch as the painful, sordid, action unfolds. Only 70 minutes long – the economy here is remarkable – the show is directed with unflinching precision by Adam Penford.

Four impeccable performances take us deep inside two relationships. Sean Campion and Niamh Cusack play a long-married couple; his casual pick-up in a bar leads her to retaliate by visiting a male escort. The subjects of their explicit sexual encounters happen to be a couple as well, performed by Ruta Gedmintas and Matthew Lewis. This younger pair, with their different attitudes to sex (there’s a lot of talk about freedom), could bear more exploration. The mundane is well observed; even under stress we sense how these relationships work day to day. Underpinning the play is the bleak observation of how alone people can be even when they are with someone.

As with Florian Zeller’s The Truth, McCafferty plays with characters lying to one another, mixing up the chronology of the action, to keep the audience guessing. A serious tone brings moments of dreary existential angst. Thankfully a sense of humour prevails and not just with nervous laughter at how frank the discussions of sex are. Cusack is especially good when her character seeks revenge, bringing out the play’s admirable subtlety with an in-depth study of her role. Like the romances it meticulously depicts Unfaithful is no grand passion that will light up your life. But strong performances ensure the play contains plenty of sparks.

Until 8 October 2016

www.found111.co.uk

Photo by Marc Brenner

“The Painter” at the Arcola Theatre

The much-acclaimed Arcola theatre has relocated closer to Dalston’s refurbished train stations, and it opens its barn-like doors with The Painter, a new play by Rebecca Lenkiewicz. The painter in question is Turner, but biography is really just a primer for Lenkiewicz’s ambitious and engaging look at women, art and society.

With the smell of fresh plaster filling the former paint factory, it’s all very East End art scene. The temptation might be to see Turner as some kind of early YBA, but Lenkiewicz is too clever for this. She manipulates chronology and uses modern idioms to abstract Turner’s obsession with creativity, his battles with patrons and the relationships in his private life.

Toby Jones is excellent in the title role. Under Mehmet Ergen’s skilled direction he gives a refined, understated performance. His character’s complexity is clear, but Jones allows those who perform alongside him to shine.

We encounter three women who seem dangerously close to cliché. A young tart with a heart (Jenny Cole), a widow looking for a new husband (Niamh Cusack), and an overbearing, insane mother (Amanda Boxer) whose fate, like many an awkward woman, is to be institutionalised. Despite the danger of caricature, all three performances are stunning, the actresses bringing out the subtlety of Lenkieweicz’s characters. It’s a close call as to who succeeds most completely. I go for Boxer, who shows unbearable cruelty to her son and then painful lucidity about her mental decline. She edged me to tears.

Lenkiewicz writes taught, short scenes that command attention. All are impeccably handled by Mehmet: offstage screams are chilling and Jim Bywater plays Turner’s father so endearingly that a scene of only a few moments showing his collapse is a sharp, brutal shock.

Unfortunately such brevity doesn’t always serve. In particular Turner’s fumbling lectures at the Royal Academy need elaboration to clarify the connection between the painter’s life and art. As an essay in sublime abstraction Turner himself would probably have approved of Lenkiewicz’s work, but her effort ultimately feels slim. Taking Turner’s work and using it as a palimpsest is a fascinating prospect, but the result is a shadow that is sometimes too faint.

www.arcolatheatre.com

Until 12 February 2011

Photo by Simon Annand

Written 17 January 2011 for The London Magazine