Tag Archives: Roy Williams

“The Lonely Londoners” at the Jermyn Street Theatre

Roy Williams’ excellent adaptation of Sam Selvon’s novel about the Windrush Generation is brought to the stage with style by director Ebenezer Bamgboye. A collection of memorable characters and moving stories are depicted with care and passion by a talented cast.

Driving the action is Moses, known as “Mr. London”, who helps out new arrivals to the city. Gamba Cole takes the role with plenty of charisma while his character’s moving backstory is revealed with skill. Moses is joined by Galahad, Big City and Lewis – with strong performances from Romario Simpson, Gilbert Kyem Jnr and Tobi Bakare respectively. Each character is beautifully realised and interesting.

The problems the men encounter are many but Williams makes sure none of them feel underexplored. The racism they face, the isolation and rage it creates, is painful. All four brim with frustration, ready to snap at any moment. But broader ramifications are also clear: depression, poverty, the potential for crime, and toxic masculinity. The men are presented with a collection of objects – gun, dagger, and hip flask – the tension Bamgbye generates around these is fantastic. And there’s no idealizing the men or the story. Moses’ assessment that they are lonely but not alone is consolation but doesn’t generate false hopes.

It’s a shame the women in the piece have poorer roles. Moses is haunted by Christina, the love he left behind. Lewis’ mother and wife arrive in London but start too comedic and then come dangerously close to exemplars of how to adjust to a new life. Thankfully brilliant performances save the roles: Shannon Hayes and Carol Moses have tears in their eyes in their key scene – powerful, impressive acting.

For all Williams’ skill and the importance of the history, it is the staging rather than the stories that make the production stand out. There’s Elliot Griggs’s bold lighting design for a start, a model of effective simplicity that works brilliantly in scenes of violence. Aimee Powell’s gorgeous singing as Christina weaves throughout the show, part lament but also encouragement. Stirring choreography deserves final praise. Extended sequences that use movement, directed by Nevena Stojkov, are mesmerizing. Illustrating affection and aggression in equal measure, showing, by turns, a sense of loss and anger, brings home the complexity of these lives.

Until 6 April 2024

www.jermynstreettheatre.co.uk

“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

“Death of England” at the National Theatre

If anywhere should host a state-of-the-nation play it’s surely our nation’s theatre. Roy Williams and Clint Dyer’s new work is an intelligent example of the genre. Full of insight and observation, their writing is expert. That said, it’s easy to imagine that the show will be primarily remembered for the extraordinary performance from its sole actor – Rafe Spall.

Williams and Dyer really have done a great job. The death in the title covers that of their character Michael’s father. The complex relationship between the two men, indeed the whole family, provides an intimate drama with plenty of humour. But the writers’ concerns are much wider, injecting the play with an urgent directness.

As well as getting to know a family, Death of England is a brilliantly observed look at a white working-class community and suggests a summation of the state of masculinity as much as race relations in the country. That’s a lot, and at times ‘issues’ feel forced, but Dyer’s direction of his text powers through.

Focusing on Michael’s father’s racism, Brexit and the Far Right raise their ugly heads. But Williams and Dyer want to point out that racism isn’t a fringe problem. That the father’s twisted logic includes a “time and place” for bigotry (criticising those who are too open about their prejudice) proves chilling. Michael knows he should have challenged his dad more and we can see the impact it has had on his friendships and his family. His cry to “search my history” may come in the context of the cache on a laptop but has far wider implications.

This root-and-branch examination of our country’s problems rests on Spall’s shoulder and he really is magnificent in this once-in-a-lifetime role. Addressing the audience throughout, and interacting with them a good deal, for all his faults, his patter and honesty make him appealing and often funny.

Spall’s is an incredibly physical performance, not least since a cross-shaped stage takes up a good portion of the theatre’s pit seating. With the character fuelled by drugs and alcohol, as well as rage, the switches from aggression to grief are frequent and sudden. The speech is nearly always at break-neck speed. Add the frequent shouts and tears (aside from worrying about Spall’s vocal chords) and it’s remarkable you can hear what he is saying so well.

When it comes to depicting other characters, Spall shows further intelligence. These are impersonations that Michael is making, the aim isn’t to bring another figure onto the stage but show Michael’s version of them. Getting to meet the whole family in this peculiar manner is wonderfully layered and brilliantly executed, serving Williams and Dyer’s play to perfection.

Until 8 March 2020

www.nationaltheatre.org.uk

Photo by Helen Murray

“Sucker Punch” at the Royal Court

Roy Williams’ new play, Sucker Punch, which sees the Royal Court converted into a boxing ring, will surely excite if you’re a fan of the sport (I’m not), but it’s also worth seeing if pugilism isn’t your game.
Designer Miriam Buether wins the first round with the theatre’s transformation. The action takes place in the centre of the auditorium and everyone gets a ringside seat. That many of them are more uncomfortable than the Court’s usual plush leather offerings only adds to the atmosphere. And even if getting ready to watch a boxing match doesn’t thrill you, seeing double glazing and the Daily Mirror advertised in Sloane Square has a certain curiosity value.

Sucker Punch is entertaining and engaging, and about far more than boxing. It is a simple tale of big themes – love and hate, family and friendship. The boxing club in which the action takes place is an appropriate setting for the struggles of the two young protagonists in this story of betrayal and achievement. Machismo and nationality are themes for which Williams is well known but his handling of forbidden love and professional rivalry are just as interesting.

Set against the backdrop of racist riots in the 1980s there is a great deal of pain and anger in the injustices experienced. There’s also time for some quirky period detail. However, Williams is a perceptive writer and it would be great to hear what he thinks about current events rather than just giving us history.

The adept cast takes the 1980s fashions (supplied so well by Jacky Orton) in its stride, with Sarah Ridgeway’s costume getting more than a few nostalgic laughs. Looking comfortable in it is just part of a great performance as the coach’s daughter, who falls in love with boxing hopeful Leon (Daniel Kaluuya). She sees his friendship with Troy (Anthony Welsh) fall apart before her own budding romance is sacrificed to fame and fortune.

Both leads are superb as they show their natural teenage insecurities compounded by the troubles of the time and the less than inspirational actions of the adults in their lives. With these obstacles, both boys’ achievements are astounding. Their success results in some great staging, the boxing scenes being especially effective thanks to Gareth Fry’s outstanding sound design and spectacular strobe lighting from Peter Mumford. But the effort the fighters take seems wasted as it becomes clear their apparent triumphs are hollow and the price they have paid a high one.

Until 24 July

www.royalcourttheatre.com

Photo by Clive Nash

Written 21 June 2010 for The London Magazine