Tag Archives: Ony Uhiara

“John Gabriel Borkman” at the Bridge Theatre

Lucinda Coxon’s new version of Ibsen’s 1896 play gains power from its terseness. Played without an interval, at rapid speed, the story of disgraced banker and his complex family, is an existential exploration conducted in a refined manner.

Borkman’s love of money isn’t quite the kind of capitalism we get nowadays, and Coxon refuses to map some kind of Ponzi scheme onto his actions – bravo. This businessman is a more of mystic. His relationship to the earth, albeit exploiting resources, can’t help but seem odd. Taking the title role, Simon Russell Beale manages to make the character’s conviction believable. And the more we hear from Borkman, the more amazing Russell Beale’s achievement becomes.

Along with astonishing misogyny and arrogance come Borkman’s pleas for his innocence (years after finishing his prison sentence). He lives estranged from his wife, Gunhild, in the same home, which is actually owned by her sister, Ella, who is the women Borkman really loves. And it’s not just a love triangle. Ella turns up to ‘claim’ her nephew, hoping he will reject his parents in favour of her. So much for the traditional family unit.

The bizarre dynamics could leave supporting roles out in the Nordic cold. Strong work from Michael Simkins, Sebastian De Souza and Ony Uhiara (as Borkman’s friend, his son and the latter’s lover) avoid the roles being lost. The psychodrama is fascinating… if extreme. But any melodrama is avoided by a dark sense of humour and Nicholas Hytner’s energetic direction. The sparse staging in monochrome tones in Anna Fleischle’s design contrasts with these colourful personalities. 

Two shadows and a dead man

Ella compares herself and her sister to ghosts accompanying the long-deceased Borkman. But her description is wrong – both women are vivid and Borkman full of life. The performances show this admirably. Clare Higgins’s Gunhild is a study of rage, her scorn tremendous. Lia Williams as Ella conveys resignation and desperation in turn, creating a role that’s riveting to watch. Russell Beale is as good as ever as a man utterly deluded yet compelling; Borkman is a caged animal, a wolf, his wife says, containing tremendous power while possessing… none. The bleaker the situation for all three, the more potent the play becomes.

Until 26 November 2022

www.bridgetheatre.co.uk

Photos by Manuel Harlan

“How to be an other woman” at the Gate Theatre

How to be an other woman, at the Gate Theatre Notting Hill, is director Natalie Abrahami’s sassy adaptation of Lorrie Moore’s book. Taking the form of a self-help text, four talented actresses perform all the roles in a story of adultery. With its 80s soundtrack, witty lines and theatrical inventiveness, this short production is the most fun you could have in an hour – without having an affair.

Samal Blak’s marvellous design has the ensemble presented as fantasising shop assistants. Abrahami directs (using Aline David’s choreography) a seamless dance of emotions and laughter. Each actress takes turns at the role of Charlene, a young woman obsessed with possessions and Emma Bovary. From the thrill of her new role as a mistress, to the inevitable heartbreak that results, the performances are all fantastic. Both Cath Whitefield and Ony Uhiara are hilarious when they play the married man Charlene falls for, Faye Castelow has some wonderful moments as her friend at work, and Samantha Pearl does especially well in making us feel for Charlene when the truth of the affair dawns on her.

Because, of course, having an affair isn’t fun at all. Charlene’s paranoia about the woman who is her rival is darkly comic but becomes bitter. Wives are compared to cockroaches who ‘travel in packs’. Increasingly isolated, Charlene realises she has moved from being an other women to another woman – a person she no longer recognises in the mirror.

Thankfully, since we have come to like her so much, unlike Madame Bovary, Charlene can ‘reclaim’ herself, lie a little about being fine, and move on. I guarantee you will leave the theatre wanting to hear more of her adventures.

Until 2 October 2010

www.gatetheatre.co.uk

Photo by Simon Kane

Written 2 September 2010 for The London Magazine