Tag Archives: Rebecca Scroggs

2026

“Bird Grove” at the Hampstead Theatre

Alexi Kaye Campbell’s new play, about the life of Mary Ann Evans before she ‘became’ George Eliot, is admirable in many ways. Focusing on a father and daughter relationship, neatly balancing humour and emotion, it’s a biography that makes a case for its subject’s relevance without straining too hard.

There’s an interesting decision not to give the audience any background, to assume we all know a lot about Eliot. Lazy, maybe? But it frees the script of clunky exposition. And you could easily enjoy Bird Grove without the history. Some might have a bigger problem with how static it all is, although director Anna Ledwich makes an effort to inject energy and the production looks great. Might it be useful to provide more context as to how rebellious Eliot was? How conservative her milieu? A few cheap gags about Coventry seems unfair. But the piece does well to give an impression of the period, avoiding parody despite the verbosity of the characters.

Because what is said is interesting. The arguments between father and daughter are intelligent and Eliot’s views on life and religion investigated. It’s neat to give the best line to her friend: “Love is not a feeling but an intelligence”. I could have done with the interval at that stage to have a good think.

While Eliot’s frequent anger is justified, and always smart, there is a danger we see all debate from her perspective. Yes, it’s hard not to – but the result is that other characters feel flat. It works for the comic relief of Evans’ suitor, a nice role for Jonnie Broadbent. But her brother (Jolyon Coy) and her “purposeful” friends, played by Tom Espiner and Rebecca Scroggs, fail to convince. The always excellent Sarah Woodward is criminally underused as Evans’ former tutor.

Thankfully, there are great parts for the leads. The focus on Eliot’s father is almost strong enough to make him work as a stand-alone figure, and the character’s success is secured by the performance of Owen Teale. But, of course, the show belongs to Eliot, and Elizabeth Dulau is terrific in the role. Making some of these lines sound like natural conversation is an achievement itself. That the ideas are conveyed so clearly and with emotion is even better.

Kaye Campbell’s affection for his subject shines through and is contagious. Like Eliot, he gets a lot of ideas into his fiction, and that is exciting. That the ideas aren’t any kind of revelation might seem a churlish complaint. And pointing out that, for all the writing’s sophistication, it is strong performances that secure the piece’s success, may appear meanspirited. But Bird Grove is smart enough to give us a hero without hagiography – a tricky task accomplished stylishly.

Until 21 March 2026

www.hampsteadtheatre.com

Photo by Johan Persson

2016

“The Suicide” at the National Theatre

There are some interesting ideas lurking within Suhayla El-Bushra’s new version of Nikolai Erdman’s comedy. The basis is brilliant – when a man announces he will take his own life he becomes hounded by those looking to use his death for their own ends. You might guess that the production updates the action to modern-day London (doesn’t everything?). More surprisingly, the satirical target is moved from Soviet Russia, not to the greed and inequality in our own times, but to left-leaning well- meaning folk. And El-Bushra replaces the State with social media – a neat move that offers insight and great satirical potential (after all, you can’t exaggerate online excess). Unfortunately, neither of these twists actually makes the play funnier than its original premise.

Mocking a desperate group of people living on a council estate is in questionable taste, aside from coming close to sitcom or reality TV show territory. More importantly, the treatment just isn’t witty enough. The script has a few risqué jokes but hardly any big laughs and a reliance on bad language for punchlines that is offensive in being so lazy. Director Nadia Fall doesn’t help, using a great-looking set (by Ben Stones) in a cumbersome manner and adding music and dance – presumably to appeal to a young audience – that may be good, but slows things down. There are frantic scenes, which the cast are well choreographed for, but the energy is wasted as stops and starts ruin the pace.

The collection of stereotypes that come to hassle our hero Sam aren’t all badly written. There’s a café-owning ex-PR girl, a teacher-performance-poet, local councillor, mental health worker, an old friend trying to hide an affair and assorted local youths. It’s a long play. All look for Sam to take the blame for something and to make a ‘statement’. But there’s an inverse relationship between characters where the satire has real bite, such as a despicable documentary filmmaker, and disappointing performances. Jokes are wasted with one-note delivery. Then some strong comic potential (Lizzie Winkler and Ayesha Antoine) isn’t given enough to do. It’s tempting to see an element of bad luck for El-Bushra here.

My intention was attend the scheduled press night, which was then postponed due to the indisposition of the lead, Javone Prince – surely the biggest misfortune for the show. However, the poorly presented main character is reduced to little more than a foolish bore, while scenes of Sam’s home life with his wife (a hard-working Rebecca Scroggs) and mother-in-law (the always excellent Ashley McGuire) achieve little. Yet the role was a triumph for Prince’s understudy, Adrian Richards, who gave a performance that has made me want to post this review despite it being, strictly speaking, about a preview. Richards’ comic timing is among the best of the night and he managed to give Sam a lost, youthful, appeal. Richards’ valiant efforts lifted the atmosphere for the whole evening. Luck at last, but little to do with the show’s actual merits.

Until 25 June 2016

www.nationaltheatre.org.uk

Photo by Johan Persson