Tag Archives: Selina Cadell

“The Tempest” at the Theatre Royal Drury Lane

Director Jamie Lloyd delivers every time. The big draw for his new production of Shakespeare’s late play is the West End debut of Sigourney Weaver as Prospero and, since she never leaves the stage, we get a lot of her. You came for a star? You get a star…

Weaver’s is not the clearest delivery I’ve heard, but it is good. She is a focused presence, often stationary, drawing in energy as her character’s magic controls what’s going on. We never doubt this Prospero’s power – which diminishes tension a little – but Weaver is truly magnetic.

No doubt it’s a thrill to see such famous faces on stage (Lloyd’s career proves as much). But the production has more to offer. There’s a reason actors of Weaver’s status want to work with him: the production is bold, controlled, and has big ideas.

Let’s take the bombastic first; Soutra Gilmour’s set is stunning. Shakespeare hasn’t been staged at the Theatre Royal Drury Lane in a long time and the space, so perfect for big musicals, is huge. Maybe with a nod to Weaver’s movies (although it is described as “barren”) the isle’s setting looks like a moonscape. Gilmour works marvels with huge curtains of gauze. For added drama there’s Jon Clark’s ambitious lighting design including some tricky total blackouts.

The island is, famously, “full of noises”. Sound designers Ben and Max Ringham must have been rubbing their hands at the job. Their work is loud. Too often the amplification is to the detriment of the poetry, but the effects are good and help with the plot. The Ringham’s are also co-composers to a score from Michael ‘Mikey J’ Asante, available to buy soon I’d bet.

For all the epic feel, the production is emphatically not cinematic. Lloyd knows theatre shouldn’t compete with film – it has something else to offer (that’s his point when he uses live recordings). There are good old fashioned theatrical techniques here, including a lot of aerial work for… Ariel!

To further balance the grand touches, this is also a cerebral version of The Tempest. Weaver reflects the thought process behind the grief, revenge, and forgiveness that is going on. And Lloyd points out that much of this is happening in people’s heads. It is the mental anguish Prospero’s illusions creates that are continually emphasised (notably, the joyous wedding masque is downplayed). There’s a focus on choreography, with characters coming forward into a spotlight or circling one another in their confusion. It all looks great. And, often it makes the play easy to follow. But there is a sense that characters are puppets for Prospero… or maybe for Lloyd.

Much of the cast suffer from the stylised staging. The play’s villains merge into one, despite the efforts of Tim Steed and Oliver Ryan. Young lovers (Mara Huf and James Phoon) fade into the background. Like romance, there’s little room for humour so Jason Barnett’s Stephano and Mathew Horne’s Trinculo (always difficult roles) are also lost. Jude Akuwudike and Selina Cadell, as Alonso and Gonzalo, fare better and make their roles unusually interesting.

Mason Alexander Parks in The Tempest
Mason Alexander Park

It’s the characters that are other-worldly that excel. An unrecognizable Forbes Masson takes the part of Caliban; the physicality of his performance is commendable. Mason Alexander Park’s Ariel is particularly impressive, benefitting from the music in the show and its special effects. Affection for Prospero is balanced well with the desire for freedom, giving the character a melancholy touch. And there’s an element of theatricality to this Ariel that is fascinating; they seem to enjoy tricks played and fear induced. Park is the only challenge to Weaver’s dominance and does so well that they may be the real star of the show.

Until 1 February 2025

www.thejamielloydcompany.com

Photos by Marc Brenner

“A Monster Calls” from the Old Vic

Artistic Director Matthew Warcus’s Coronavirus lockdown project, entitled Your Old Vic is off to a fantastic start with this hit from 2018, co-produced with the London theatre’s namesake in Bristol.

Like the best of theatre aimed at younger audiences (the age recommendation is 10+) this adaptation of Patrick Ness’ novel appeals to all. And similar to the best of its kind – think Warhorse and Coram Boy – it tackles a tough subject we might shield children from. This story of a schoolboy whose mother is dying of cancer is tough stuff. Yet it’s brilliant from start to finish.

Anchored by wonderful performances from Matthew Tennyson, as Conor, Marianne Oldham as his mother and Selina Cadell as his Grandma, the play is honest about the complicated emotions that surround a long illness. The monster of the title is, of course, cancer. But the play also contains a pretty scary Yew Tree (Stuart Goodwin) who takes Conor on a journey of self-discovery.

Although the ensemble has some bumpy moments, three stories told by the tree and performed by all, means a lot of roles are covered by the small cast. Hammed Animashaun and John Leader impress as a Prince and an Apothecary as well as bullies in Conor’s ordinary life. Ness makes the important point that Conor’s problems at school continue. Other troubles don’t go away when cancer arrives.

In using fantasy and story-telling to reveal the truth, Ness tackles the anger and fear around loss for all his characters. Frequently violent, like many fairy tales, you might share Conor’s scepticism about allegorical touches. But with wit and twists we becomes convinced that “stories are the wildest things”. A sense of danger gains dramatic momentum in every scene.

Matching Ness’ imagination, the ideas for the show – inspired by Siobhan Dowd, devised by the company and directed by Sally Cookson – fill the stage with invention. Dick Straker’s brilliant projections and the sophisticated score from Benji Bower complement a simplicity to the staging that uses ropes to suggest the tree and many props. Technically brilliant, frequently beautiful, the shows very creativity serves as a hopeful note to help us through its emotional turmoil.

Until 11 June

www.oldvictheatre.com

Photo by Manuel Harlan