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“The Woods” at the Southwark Playhouse

David Mamet’s 1977 play is a romantic drama – just a very fancy one. The script is clever and, in this revival, carefully managed by director Russell Bolam. Allusions are dense, the angst extreme and the sexual politics wretched. If you aren’t a Mamet fan, it can prove tiresome. There’s an easy misanthropy behind the story of a couple falling out of love in a romantic cabin, even if the ideas spouted are highbrow. Is it obvious I’m not sold?

But I’d still recommend this show unreservedly – because the two performances here are fantastic.

Watching Sam Frenchum as Nicholas and Francesca Carpanini as Ruth isn’t pleasant. As a gushing hippy away from the city, she is frankly annoying. Nor does her mistaken idea that ursine partner is “serene” generate much sympathy. Meanwhile, Nicholas’ mansplaining isn’t going to win him many admirers.

The anxiety both characters share is carefully revealed, especially by Frenchum, while Carpanini triumphs in showing Ruth’s desperation. And this is all despite Mamet’s exaggerations… let’s just say that the idea of alienation has a witty twist.

Nobody could make light work of the dark atmosphere Mamet insists on, or the secrets toyed with so effortfully. Nonetheless, these actors – and Bolam – understand the play’s undeniable dynamism. Watching the characters develop and respond to events and revelations is the highlight. Both actors bring intensity to their roles at just the right moments. From who you find more annoying to when you start to get scared, it’s all effective drama and very well performed.

Frencham manages to make the existential speculation here feel as natural as it can, and Carpanini proves an effective foil (it isn’t her fault that her character is only a point of contrast). If The Woods doesn’t move you emotionally, it will still make you think.

A final point of praise seems appropriate and serves as a bit of a spoiler. There is violence in the play and this is brought to the stage with such skill that it should come with a warning (I thought something had gone horribly wrong at one point). It’s overall technically brilliant, undoubtedly impressive, but somehow remains cold.

Until 26 March 2022

www.southwarkplayhouse.co.uk

Photos by Pamela Raith

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“Three Sisters” at the Southwark Playhouse

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In most productions of Three Sisters, the eponymous heroines yearn to leave their provincial home and return to Moscow. In a new version of Chekhov’s play, from Anya Reiss at the Southwark Playhouse, the sisters want to return to London. Well, who wouldn’t? Chekhov’s tragic melancholia is still present, along with his philosophical preoccupations and essential concerns, but the action occurs in the Middle East in the present day.

It isn’t a perfect transposition. The sisters endure their famous ennui in the shadow of a military compound and embassy. Where they are and what they are doing there isn’t made explicit, which is vaguely frustrating. It seems somehow off to hear soldiers in modern fatigues wishing for real work. With all the phones and iPads pushing you into the present, attitudes to marriage jar and the stiff upper lips seem incongruous.

But Reiss’ twist with the setting brings home the isolation of Chekhov’s characters. There’s a nice motif of superstition, arising from people under pressure, and an unblinking eye on the dramatic potential of the scenario. I suspect inconsistencies aren’t a big concern: adding karaoke to Chekhov indicates a mischievous streak. Incidentally, the humour generally owes less to the original source than the rest of the production. There’s an energy to the writing that powers the whole thing along. Best of all, these sisters are far from sententious and self-pitying – which are welcome interpretations.

The production itself is of the highest standard. Russell Bolam directs with a deft touch; there’s plenty of action, a swift pace and performances full of natural feeling. Again, issues arise from Reiss’ new version. The servants and Masha’s cuckolded husband being local proves distracting (especially in relation to a fine performance from Tom Ross-Williams). Both Michael Garner’s Doctor Chebutykin and Paul McGann’s Vershinin – the voices of age and experience – seem flattened and these talented actors a little wasted.

The focus is on youth, and a trio of performances from the leads does not disappoint. Olivia Hallinan plays Olga with a resolute edge, all self control until a final tragedy (watch her legs as shocking news is broken to her). Holliday Grainger takes onboard the realism in the production: fresh and appealing as the young Irina and a captivating stage presence. It’s a photo finish (and naughty of me to encourage sibling rivalry), but I thought Emily Taaffe best – her impassioned Masha has a constrained energy that is riveting and her performance packs the most emotional punch. These three high achievers make this interesting production well worth seeing.

Until 3 May 2014

www.southwarkplayhouse.co.uk

Written 9 April 2014 for The London Magazine