Tag Archives: Siân Phillips

2021

“Footfalls & Rockaby” at the Jermyn Street Theatre

6 November 2021 Edward Lukes

Not everyone makes a beeline for Samuel Beckett plays. It sometimes feels as if the legendary modernist is more beloved of theatre-makers than theatregoers. Fans will, of course, jump at the chance to see these seldom performed shorts, but director Richard Beecham’s stylish work and two brilliant performances should also secure appeal for a wide audience.

Footfalls

A woman having bizarre conversation with an offstage voice might sound almost a cliché of experimental theatre. The woman, May, or maybe Amy, may or may not be talking to her dead mother. The voices address one another and then the audience.

The spectre of poor mental health haunts the piece and the appropriately ghostly character, depicted by Charlotte Emmerson, is mesmerising. Emmerson’s timing – so crucial for this piece – is spot on.

Beckett was specific about staging and instructions for lighting and sound – cleverly elaborated by Beecham and his designers Ben Ormerod and Adrienne Quartly. Within these constrictions, a performance of incredible control notches up the tension marvellously.

Rockaby

The sense of isolation for the lonely old woman in Rockaby is overwhelming. There’s a lot of philosophy again – what kind of existence does this unperceived character have? But sitting in her chair, looking for any sign of life with “famished eyes”, the piece becomes painful and deeply moving.

A brilliant performance from Siân Phillips brings home the emotion within the play. Phillips never finds it hard to be magisterial. And there is a dignity to the character that makes us take her wish for more life seriously. But there’s a frailty, too, which compounds a sense of sadness.

The rocking chair, with credit to set designer Simon Kenny, also becomes a character. And a very spooky one. Is it fanciful to say it has a life of its own? As with the sound design within Footfalls, there’s a quality far from lulling in the ceaseless, yet cleverly varied, presence of its back and forth.

Footfalls and Rockaby are late works, from 1975 and 1980, respectively. Minimal and experimental, they set the mind spinning. Concerning mortality and memory, we are presented with vivid, mysterious characters. That intrigue drives both shows for me. It may be simplistic, and far from grand intentions, but both pieces work as bizarre ghost stories that are strangely exciting as well as profound.

Until 20 November 2021

www.jermynstreetheatre.co.uk

Photos by Steve Gregson

2021

“Under Milk Wood” at the National Theatre

1 July 2021 Edward Lukes

Poetry on stage is never easy. And when Dylan Thomas’s text comes with the legacy of a famous reading (Richard Burton, no less) a new production becomes even trickier. Lyndsey Turner’s brave attempt benefits from a star draw and strong performances from a large cast, but struggles to deliver anything new or to please old fans.

The big idea is to start the play within a care home. Additional material is provided by Siân Owen. Our narrator (Michael Sheen) jogs the memory of his dementia-suffering father (Karl Johnson). Thomas’s themes of memory and mortality are clear. But this preface (how could it be considered anything else?) makes the show longer than needed. And an hour and three quarters without an interval and wearing a mask feels very long indeed.

Maybe you have the patience. But while the show feels lengthy, the delivery – undoubtedly impressive – is too often rushed. And this is not an easy text to follow. Turner, with the help of movement director Imogen Knight, has taken the challenge of bringing a ‘play for voices’ to the stage vigorously. The lives of those living in Milk Wood come and go with alarming speed.

It’s easy to enjoy the cast, who take on the roles of villagers as “one spring day” goes by. I’d single out Alan David as making me laugh the most, while Siân Phillips manages to convey different ages of characters quite magically. There are nice touches with minimal props and excellent costume changes (bravo, set and costume designer Merle Hensel). Emotional moments between father and son are highlighted by the issue of alcoholism, and the “always open” Sailors Arms pub is a vivid presence within the play.

Thomas was not nostalgic. You can imagine the temptation… all those simple lives in an easier past. There is charm and humour here but, admirably, Turner avoids rose tints. A call to observe the balance between seeing the best and worst sides of people has weight as a result.

Sheen can command a stage. And he sounds fantastic. But with a show this dark – literally – and often pin-drop-quiet, it’s all too easy to slip from the level of concentration he brings to the role. The “noise of the hush” is an exquisite phrase to describe the life of this community… the trouble is that I heard a snore above it more than once. This production is an achievement on the part of its cast. Unfortunately, it requires a feat of endurance for an audience.

Until 24 July 2021

www.nationaltheatre.org.uk

2020

“Les Blancs” from NTLive

4 July 2020 Edward Lukes

Although unfinished at her death in 1965, and in a production that’s four years old, Lorraine Hansberry’s play feels more urgent than ever. Questioning the perceived price of African lives, the legacy of imperialism and featuring the death of a black man in police custody, it is depressingly topical in this summer of Black Lives Matter protests.

Yaël Farber’s strong production doesn’t suit filming – that happens sometimes. The slower pace, which can work in a theatre, makes watching online tedious. Several scene changes, which use the theatre’s revolve well, dampen the script’s considerable tension on screen. That Hansberry wrote a thrilling play with plenty of action is a little lost.

Thankfully, even on film the strong characters and performances still shine. The ‘Whites’ of the title, running a missionary hospital in an unspecified African country, are well developed by James Fleet and Anna Madeley. And a visiting journalist – a little too close to a device to provide an American perspective – is played with passion by Elliot Cowan. A magnificent role for Siân Phillips, the wife of the Mission’s pastor who everyone is waiting to show up, illustrates the complexities of colonialism in a moving fashion.

LES BLANCS The National Theatre, 2016 photo Johan Persson — Siân Phillips and Danny Sapani

Three brothers, torn by the conflict for independence, provide drama of an epic nature that results in fantastic acting. Gary Beadle’s Abioseh is about to become a priest, while “mixed up” Eric, a powerful role for Tunji Kasim, wants to go to war. The focus is Tshembe, now established in Europe but “ravaged” by his responsibilities. Which path will he take?

Danny Sapani takes the part of this intellectual and reluctant revolutionary with a clear understanding that this is a unique kind of hero. Sapani shows Tshembe’s intelligence and humanity, making him interesting and appealing. But he is also aloof and dangerous. The tragic outcome is one of the most shocking you can imagine.

The brutal ending of Les Blancs shows its real strength lies in Hansberry’s unflinching bravery. Many scenes featuring Clive Francis’ bigoted Major Rice are difficult to watch, no matter how well they work dramatically. But, with Hansberry’s forensic arguments, the play is also bold. The exploitation of colonialism is easy to see, but what about the idea of the missionary sense of fulfilment also being at the expense of Africans? The play’s obsession with “reason”, easily contrasted with tradition, and a flirtation with violence (let alone nods to Marxism) are startling and powerful.

Available until Wednesday 8 July2020

To support, visit nationaltheatre.org.uk

Photos by Johann Persson

2016

“Les Blancs” at the National Theatre

31 March 2016 Edward Lukes

Lorraine Hansberry’s ambitious play, unfinished at the time of her early death, has been polished to perfection for director Yaël Farber’s stirring production. Combining theatrical realism with a yen for Greek theatre that makes the Olivier auditorium a perfect venue, this is a political drama that goes to the dark heart of human nature.

There’s a lot going on and the play is long. A white reporter and a returning local chief’s son arrive in an unspecified African country under colonial rule and become embroiled in a struggle for independence, trapped by their sense of responsibility – one to write a truthful story, the other to fight for freedom.

This isn’t a new play, so, the arguments against colonialism and exploitation are depressingly familiar. It’s in the debates intelligent presentation that the work becomes urgent while the passionate delivery makes the production excellent. The Whites of the title are impressively nuanced: centred around a hospital, doctors (engaging performances from James Fleet and Anna Madeley) wait for the return of their missionary leader, along with his wife, a magisterial role for Siân Phillips. Their opinions leak out under the journalistic gaze of Mr. Morris. In an angry performance by Elliot Cowan how much Morris has in common with the well intentioned Westerners is clear, but there’s a suspicion more subtlety could be plumbed.

The focus is the story of Tshembe Matoseh, a reluctant rebel fighter, “ravaged” by history, superbly portrayed by Danny Sapani. His two brothers (well delineated by Tunji Kasim and Gary Beadle) provide more perspective on the complexity of colonial rule. The anger and violence that overwhelms their family is firmly controlled by Hansberry’s text. A non-speaking woman, depicted impressively by Sheila Atim, accompanies Tshembe, allegorically adding to his burden, and the his inevitable descent into a tragic, you might say biblical, crime is shocking.

With all the argument in the play – several long speeches that could easily have defeated less able actors – it is a triumph that Farber has created such a theatrical and emotive show. Aided by Xhosa singers and Soutra Gilmour’s impressive set, we get not just politics but epic drama.

Until 2 June 2016

www.nationaltheatre.org.uk

Photo by Johan Persson