Tag Archives: Park Theatre

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“Lee” at the Park Theatre

Cian Griffin joins a long list of playwrights tackling painters’ lives. Such fictions, mixing history, biography and theories about art, can be fruitful but not easy, as injecting drama often proves problematic. At the risk of damning with faint praise, this play about Lee Krasner holds its own in a crowded field. Red by John Logan and Stanley by Pam Gems spring to mind, while more recent efforts include Rebecca Lenkiewicz’s The Painter and this year’s Who is Claude Cahun? by DR Hill.

Griffin has picked a great artist to explore – abstract expressionist Krasner had a fascinating life and career. And he’s done his homework, aided by a Barbican exhibition six years ago that allowed a London audience to see many of the paintings discussed. There are times when Griffin seems burdened by this knowledge, briefing the audience in a clunky manner, but it is interesting stuff.

A little against the odds, this is an affectionate portrait. Krasner is shown as irascible, but her touchiness is made a virtue of by Helen Goldwyn, who injects humour. The writing shows Krasner’s intelligence and imperiousness, but Goldwyn aids nuance and skilfully suggests a vulnerable undertow. I’m not quite sure Krasner’s resignation about sexism and celebrity in the art  is realistic (she appears sage-like a little too often), but Goldwyn makes it work. 

Griffin adds a neat device in the form of Hank, a local boy who seeks advice about art. Director Jason Moore keeps the action swift, which covers up a few problems here. Yes, Hank is young but is he a bit too dim? He’s certainly very naïve –and a plot twist is predictable. Still, this is a great role for Will Bagnall – who deals well with his character’s grief for his dead father – and an important attempt to open up the play.

You probably still need to have an interest in the artist to bother with Lee. But that’s OK and connects to bigger praise. Krasner had a famous husband. And my favourite part of the piece is how little he appears! No offence to Tom Andrews, who plays the part of Jackson Pollock very well, but it is great to see him in just a few flashbacks, where he appears as a ghost. These are strong scenes made all the more effective by being by underplayed. Pollock did haunt Krasner, certainly her reputation, and you couldn’t ignore him in a play about her. But helping her to step out of her husband’s shadow, even just a little, is a big achievement.

Until 18 October 2025

www.parktheatre.co.uk

Photo by Giacomo Giannelli

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“Lost Watches” at the Park Theatre

There are plenty of ideas and nice touches of absurdity in Lorenzo Allchurch’s new play. Overall, both cast and crew have bitten off more than they can chew – there are too many scenes that need to be expanded or abandoned, too many themes thrown in and not elaborated. But if the play seems a little lost at times, it is one that wins for its efforts and a production I felt warm towards.

Our hero, Allen, is in mourning for his mother. Allchurch, who takes the part, doesn’t ground his play enough in this grief nor, despite his appealing stage presence, establish the central character sufficiently. Allen’s family relationships are complicated (and dramatically interesting) but we only get to see his brother and father briefly, and that they are both played by Gabriella Moran does not help. It’s all directed just a little too fast by Alex Helfrecht.

The play’s crazy twist is good, though. Allen’s mother was a sculptor, her favourite piece a portrait of Beat icon William S Burroughs. And the artwork, voiced by Jason Isaacs, starts to talk! Allchurch pulls off the tricky interaction with a recording very well. Borough’s sense of mischief and anarchy is convincing, though I wonder if it could have been taken further, made darker? Exactly how much of his sanity Allen has lost is left nicely open.

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Lorenzo Allchurch and Leah Aspden

Moran, who is a busy woman, also appears as the mother, a stronger role with a nice line in enigmatic and glitter in her pockets that proves effective. And there’s a neat comic part for Leah Aspden as a policewoman who meets, but doesn’t quite help, our hero. It’s too easy to speculate that the show might have focused on this duo more – suggesting Alan’s past and, perhaps, his future.

Not everything needs to be tied down, but it is annoying that so little is made of the watch that gives the play its title. It’s another loose end that leaves a sense of having missed something. Lost Watches aims at balancing a sense of magic with the absurd. It’s a task that’s harder than it sounds and, regrettably, not accomplished despite moments of potential along the way.

Until 23 August 2025

www.parktheatre.co.uk

Photos by Mark Senior

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“That Bastard, Puccini!” at the Park Theatre

A music critic as well as a playwright, James Inverne’s knowledge benefits his new play. The story of ‘the battle of the Bohèmes’ – rival operas by Giacomo Puccini and Ruggerio Leoncavallo – that captivated Italy in 1893 is full of facts and insight into the music of the time. Inverne packs the story with juicy anecdotes, making it entertaining throughout.

The clever move theatrically is to have the three main characters (Leoncavallo is joined by his wife Berthe) all fully aware they are on stage and telling the story. The idea is tackled well by director Daniel Slater, adding humour and enabling the cast to shine. As Berthe accuses Puccini of “taking advantage of the mise-en-scène” it’s clear what a great device this is to show how close the rivals were.

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Sebastien Torkia

Puccini takes the lead in narration. He’s the one saying which scenes they should show the audience, morphing into different characters (his Mahler is a hoot) if needed. In the role, Alasdair Buchan has the maestro’s confidence down pat, alongside an unattractive wish for the next “rush” that propels the show. Sebastien Torkia is just as strong as Leoncavallo, with comic skills bringing out the character’s dramatic side – he could be in an opera let alone write one.

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Alasdair Buchan

In a nice touch, Inverne allows Lisa-Anne Wood to steal the show. She also appears as Puccini’s long-suffering wife, and other characters if corralled – but always with an eye on her primary role as Berthe, creating a fine layered effect. And to top it all, she sings!

That Bastard Puccini! gets more emotional as we come to focus on the price paid in pursuit of fame and art. A composer’s lot is not a happy one. A melancholy conclusion could be pacier, but Inverne succeeds in making us care about all his characters. It’s all enjoyable and well done, but you might want it to grow a little more. Some plays about artists manage to appeal to the broadest of audiences. (Amadeus, a play ‘about’ much more than Mozart, is the obvious example.) Creativity may be the theme here, but this story still feels like a footnote in history. Inverne gives his characters some lovely passages about music and his own passion for opera is clear, but sadly it is not quite contagious.

Until 9 August 2025

www.parktheatre.co.uk

Photos by David Monteith-Hodge

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“One Day When We Were Young” at the Park Theatre

Director James Haddrell can be proud of this fine first revival for Nick Payne’s 2011 play, “refreshed” by the playwright himself. I’m happy to boast about being a fan long before his breakthrough play Constellations. While it’s interesting to see connections with Payne’s mega hit, let’s be clear that One Day When We Were Young stands on its own and is strong work. 

We see Leonard and Violet at three points in their life: as a young couple the night before he is conscripted to fight in World War II, a little after his return from a POW camp when Violet has married someone else, and then much later, towards the end their lives. These are snapshots, but it is a marvel how much we learn from these complex and relatable characters.

Leonard and Violet are tremendous, if challenging roles. While showing the breadth of Payne’s skill, it’s a lot for the performers to pull off. Thankfully, Cassie Bradley and Barney White, who take the roles, are marvellous. Getting them to fuss around with a set, clever as Pollyanna Elston’s design is, probably isn’t worth it. And if there’s a little struggle with the final scene as very old people, both bring out the romance and sadness in each timescale, appreciating the nuances of the script and its underlying melancholy. 

This is a quiet play. If you said slow, I wouldn’t argue. But the pace shows confidence. A small, simple story about ordinary people is surprisingly rare. Class is a topic handled carefully (Leonard is a butcher’s boy while Violet’s parents own a shop) and Payne’s observations are keen but never pressured. 

It’s the dialogue that really makes One Day When We Were Young work. Payne’s humour is delicate (might it have been encouraged more?) and there’s a naturalness to these conversations, regardless of the tense situations and emotions, that is powerful. Aspirations, hesitations, reservations are all carefully explored in a show that is a well-crafted treasure.

Until 22 March 2025

www.parktheatre.co.uk

Photo by Danny Kaan

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“The Gift” at the Park Theatre

Dave Florez’s new play has a neat scenario – about someone receiving an unpleasant package in the post – that is studiously crafted into a satisfying comedy, expertly directed by Adam Meggido and benefiting from a trio of strong performances.

It might be a missed opportunity that we discover, almost immediately, what’s in the cake box delivered to Colin. Overall, there isn’t quite enough tension in the play. That said, despite being suitably icky and leading to too many puns, what’s in the box isn’t really the point.

Florez’s close observation of the existential crisis the ‘gift’ provokes is spot on. Colin and his mid-life crisis are easily recognisable. Nicholas Burns, who takes the role, injects a lot of energy and makes the most of the jokes. Likewise, Colin’s sister and brother-in-law are tidy portraits that Laura Haddock and Alex Price get a lot from. Set in North London, the play even fits its Finsbury Park venue. If the social satire is light, it is well done. 

There’s fun as Colin goes over his life and remembers those he has hurt. He has a nice line in feeling like a victim (a rant about pass-agg emails is great). And a lot of soul searching, with the irony of never managing to address self-obsession, is good. It might be a shame we don’t feel for this manbaby a bit more? Colin has a big breakdown. But it’s entertaining to laugh at him.

Florez tries hard to add twists, and the cast does well to keep up the energy. But The Gift doesn’t build and struggles to find a punchline good enough to end on. Burns carries on landing lines, Haddock’s deadpan delivery gets better and better and Price even manages to make us like his character. It is, though, a story about “a man with a shit in a box and a chip on his shoulder”. And that has its limits.

Until 1 March 2025

www.parktheatre.co.uk

Photo by Rich Southgate

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“Kim’s Convenience” at the Park Theatre

It’s a little odd to see a play, with clear potential, that has already gone on to bigger things – it feels like the wrong way around! It’s easy to see why Ins Choi’s script has been developed as a TV show; the scenario is fruitful and the comedy excellent. If it isn’t quite as strong a show on stage, the evening is fun and the play highly entertaining.

The scenario is key: our titular hero is from Korea, his shop is in Canada and his children have been raised there – cue cultural and linguistic differences that mean the jokes can run and run. There aren’t a lot of surprises, but everything is handled neatly, and Esther Jun’s direction is, also, tidy. Quality is assured by interesting characters, sensitive issues, and strong performances.

Both Mr Kim and his estranged son, Jung, are strong characters. The elder endears but is also a little scary, he doesn’t mind being unreasonable. Understandably, Choi gives an assured performance of his own writing and is a pleasure to watch. Jung has been in trouble with the law and is now struggling as a new father. The role engenders the piece’s quieter moments and is performed with commendable calm by Brian Law. Is a reconciliation between the two possible? Of course. But it’s still sweet.

Mr Kim’s daughter, Janet, doesn’t fare as well with a disappointing, underwritten, role. But, there’s still a strong performance from Jennifer Kim. And Janet has a nice love story that provides a good part for Miles Mitchell (who also impresses as various shoppers at the store). Janet is very much the foil for her dad’s jokes – they are good jokes – but the character is sometimes only there to get them off the ground. The problem is even bigger for Mrs Kim (a role Namju Go seems wasted in) who gets to do very little indeed.

The action moves along nicely, the jokes arrive at a satisfying pace. The play is short (90 mins without an interval) but perfectly formed. From the Canadians in the crowd, it seems designer Mona Camille (and, presumably, prop supervisor Shupin Liu) deserves special praise for sourcing so many goodies for the shelves. The shop itself looks good. What’s on offer is worth buying. Even if, when it comes to the play itself, there isn’t that much in store.

Until 10 February 2024

www.parktheatre.co.uk

2023

“The Garden of Words” at the Park Theatre

At a guess, Susan Momoko Hingley and Alexandra Rutter’s adaptation of Makoto Shinkai’s anime suffers from being too enamoured of its source. If you don’t know the original novel or film, then the story, structure and characters are confusing on stage. While bringing the genre to the theatre is an interesting project, I fear this production is for fans only.

We follow two school pupils through snatched scenes. Takao wants to design shoes and plays truant to talk to an older woman in the park when it rains. Meanwhile, Shōko has an abusive relationship with a basketball player conducted entirely over the phone. It’s intriguing, if slow, and looks at plenty of teenage troubles. But the disjointed telling means too much time is taken working out the basics.

It’s impressive that two young leads manage to make the show watchable. Shoko Ito and Hiroki Berrecloth are engaging and ably supported by James Bradwell and Susan Momoko Hingley herself, who play the latter’s brother and mother respectively. All bring out a good deal of tenderness and humour when addressing their characters’ various insecurities and problems – but issues arrive out of the blue and lack subtlety.

The twist, that the women Takao is talking to, Yukari, turns out to be a teacher, is tough to believe. And Yukari’s actions seem oddest of all – drinking in the park while she’s supposed to be at work. The chronology means problems in the school are a puzzle. Aki Nakagawa’s beatific portrayal of her makes her problems pale. The theme of intergenerational friendship is lost.

Maybe it’s better to think about the show in terms of atmosphere. Here, Rutter’s work as a director is better. There are attempts to create a poetic air that reflects the characters’ isolation. The movement is good and the music from Mark Choi is excellent. But problems persist. Cindy Lin’s set ends up fussy, with benches moved around interminably. And the show does not sit well with venue’s thrust stage – in particular, projections of poetry are too brief and too small.

The tone of the piece changes after the interval – what’s going on becomes clearer. But there are still those questions about motivation. We’re told that “all humans are weird” more than once and we can see that’s true. But it isn’t obvious where the observation leads. Such puzzles about Takao’s and Shōko’s feelings might be fine if the production was engrossing, but it all feels pruned rather than profound.

Until 9 September 2023

www.parktheatre.co.uk

Photos by Piers Foley

2023

“Bones” at the Park Theatre

Lewis Aaron Wood’s well-intentioned play is elevated by the work of director Daniel Blake. If this examination of the mental health problems of a rugby player – Ed – is not as insightful as might be hoped, Blake’s staging is strong, and his cast’s performances are impressive.

Aaron Wood has focus, and Bones is neatly written. While the dialogue is occasionally stilted, this reflects the play’s characters, who are believable, if not compelling. Ed says surprisingly little about his depression and anxiety, or even his recently dead mother. Of course, reticence is part of the point. But interactions with family and friends show his problems are a poorly kept secret, so tension in the piece doesn’t work dramatically.

Ed cannot manage an “injury that doesn’t heal”, and the connection between physical and mental health, highlighted through sport, shouldn’t be a revelation to anyone. Moreover, the machismo of the rugby team is well-trodden ground. Instead, it is when Aaron Wood writes about the game itself that the script takes off. Presenting rugby as a “safe space” is a smart irony.

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Ronan Cullen

While the play is better on sport than on mental health, there are plenty of secure performances to be proud of, especially in Ronan Cullen, who takes the lead and complements the script. Cullen does not stress his character’s pain – Ed wouldn’t do that – but he brings an intensity to the role that is commanding. Ed’s friends make strong roles for Ainsley Fannen and Samuel Hoult. Fannen brings out some laddish humour well (another strong point of the script), while showing us a silly but sensitive young man. Hoult’s character also convinces, but it’s a shame the dynamic of his being slightly older isn’t explored more. Last but by no means least is the hardworking James Mackay, who takes on multiple roles including Ed’s father, another character who could easily be developed.

The talented cast excels when it comes to Blake’s ambitious direction of scenes on the rugby pitch. The physicality is hugely impressive, with everyone throwing, catching, forming scrums and tackling one another. These scenes, enhanced by Eliza Willmott’s sound design, are hugely effective and almost frightening in such a small theatre! While this is an uneven show, the games and training are brilliantly depicted and match Aaron Wood’s most inspired moments.

Until 22 July 2023

www.parktheatre.co.uk

Photo by Charles Flint

2023

“Paper Cut” at the Park Theatre

Andrew Rosendorf’s story of Kyle, a badly injured soldier, is a big play about an awful lot of pain. The piece might explain more about the particulars of its 2011 setting – the U.S. war on terror and the ‘don’t ask don’t tell’ policy for LGBTQ military. And it might go into more detail about post-traumatic stress. But Paper Cut impresses in the effort to broaden concerns into the topic of identity. Examinations of trauma, family, and masculinity all play a part.

The acting in this production is strong. Callum Mardy takes the lead with a brave performance as Kyle. The character is pained and shocked by his injuries but also by his past. Dealing with his childhood as well as what happened in Iraq is overwhelming – for the audience as well as the character – but Mardy manages to show us the man behind the trauma alongside how events have shaped him. 

As a study of machismo, the title is a ridiculous downplaying of Kyle’s injuries, Paper Cut is discomforting. Emasculation here is literal and addressed frankly. Time is also spent on showing how work and patriotism shape identity and both prove, by turns, moving and frustrating. The way Kyle betrayed his brother, and in turn feels he was betrayed in Iraq, are both shocking moments that need unpacking.

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Prince Kundai

It seems an open question as to how much Kyle struggles with his sexuality, at least as an adult. An affair with his comrade Chuck, played by Prince Kundai, has flashback scenes that bristle with intimacy and tenderness. Kundai is a hugely exciting performer who gives an emotional portrayal with light touches. But the difficulties both men face when back home mean pursuing the romance is a step too far dramatically.

There’s also exceptionally strong support from Joe Bollard as Kyle’s estranged brother; a heartrending scene that explains their troubled background is matched by equally powerful, quieter, moments exploring how their relationship is changing. And there is a neat turn for Tobie Donovan who shows some strong comic skills as a gauche friend from High School.

Director Scott Hurran brings steely nerves and tight control to a script that sometimes overreaches. It would be easy to have everyone shouting and crying all the time…but it wouldn’t be convincing. You might say the approach is calm – for all the tragedy of events and high emotions – the pace is thoughtful and with so much going on that is smart. Hurran gives the play and his performers time to breathe so that the back and forth between events past and present has a bold rhythm. Paper Cut is sometimes difficult to watch but it is easy to recommend.

Until 1 July 2023

www.parktheatre.co.uk

Photos by Stefan Hanegraaf

2023

“Leaves of Glass” at the Park Theatre

This welcome revival, from Lidless Theatre, of Philip Ridley’s 2007 play confirms the author as a consistently brilliant playwright. The subject matter includes child abuse and depression – not easy to watch – but what chills and inspires is how Ridley balances accusations, denials and shifting stories while showing how trauma lives on, affecting lives and shaping futures.

Ridley’s is a harsh look at cruel subjects. A sense of paranoia, woven into every line, reflects how the character Steven’s life falls apart: his wife and mother seem against him, while his troubled younger brother makes cryptic demands about confessing… something. Ridley reveals plot as well as any thriller, and director Max Harrison takes his lead – the show is gripping.

The script boasts vivid images: this is a lucid world of violence, vermin and the unexplained. All the unsettling tropes are given time, as they should be – the language is astonishing. Nonetheless, the play is more of a conventional domestic drama than many Ridley offerings – a family putting on a show is clear. Harrison’s incisive approach is further confirmed with the piece’s black humour when the brothers fight or their mum lays down the law.

All the performers clearly admire the script and share Harrison’s vision. Katie Buchholz highlights the strength of her character, Debbie, who is Steven’s wife, adding to the play’s tension. Kacey Ainworth, as the boys’ mother, has strong comedy skills, while the way she ages from one scene to the next at the end of the play left me awe-struck.

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Joseph Potter

Joseph Potter takes the role of younger brother Barry, an alcoholic begging and threatening to unearth a past that has ruined his life, balancing sympathy and threat. As his performance in a previous play, Poltergeist, testifies, Potter is an expert at Ridley. He brings a manic energy that matches the writing marvellously.

Taking the lead is Ned Costello in the hugely demanding role of Steven. Understatement is the key to this magnificent performance – Steven’s cool demeanour can be funny but is the first step in our starting to suspect him. As questions mount, Costello shows cracks. It is remarkable that the character can be both sinister and seem weak. At the play’s powerful conclusion, Costello is deeply disturbing.

While scenes with family members are electric, Ridley is a master of the monologue (you can still check out a lockdown highlight – a whole series of fantastic shorts). Steven’s soliloquies are exquisite, brimming with ideas and originality, balancing simple story telling with complex themes. Showing Ridley’s skills with such steely precision secures a five-star rating: an excellent play and production.

Until 3 June 2023

www.parktheatre.co.uk

Photos by Mark Senior