Tag Archives: Toby Jones

“Othello” at the Theatre Royal Haymarket

David Harewood as Shakespeare’s jealous general proves reason enough to see this new production from director Tom Morris. Having first played the part in 1997, Harewood has a special kind of experience. He is an imposing figure, presenting a dignified leader whose downfall increases in tragedy because of how inexplicable it is. Harewood is flawless. And Morris doesn’t exactly make mistakes. But this production is a strangely tepid affair and, overall, underwhelming.

Continuing the star casting, having Toby Jones as Iago is exciting and his performance is interesting. Leaning into a comic edge for the character is unusual. Iago’s wickedness can be funny (Tom Burn benefits as the dupe Roderigo). And the jokes suit Jones, who also uses an affable persona to good effect – you can see why people trust “honest Iago”. The laughter is too contagious though; there isn’t enough evil or fear around this “demi-devil”. Morris might want to emphasise chance and opportunism – Iago’s sexual jealousy is left out – but this aim is not clear enough.

There are more problems. While none of the acting is disastrous, too much is lukewarm. Caitlin Fitzgerald tries hard to focus on Desdemona’s independence which is, arguably, at odds with much of the text. This Desdemona is far too confident and worldly-wise. It becomes hard to imagine her putting up with much from a husband so the chemistry is lacking. Luke Treadaway’s Cassio is more a plot point than a person and Peter Guinness’ strange sounding Brabantio difficult to understand.

Morris keeps the action quick and that doesn’t leave much room for tension to build. There is help from PJ Harvey with the music, some swanky projections from Nina Dunn and admirable lighting design from Rich Howell. But none of it is used quite enough to make it memorable. More specifically, while the production does pick up, the starting point is timid so impact lacking. 

The death bed scene is strong – Harwood and Fitzgerald are both excellent. And Vinette Robinson’s barnstorming Emilia, an impassioned performance, comes close to stealing the show. It seems appropriate that at the end, her face is projected the same size as Desdemona. But these stylish touches don’t add up to a production that is more than the sum of its parts. It is Harewood’s justified confidence in the role, his beautiful delivery of the verse, that towers above all else.

Until 17 January 2026

www.othelloonstage.com/

Photo by Brinkhoff/Moegenburg

"Uncle Vanya" at the Harold Pinter Theatre

For a play with so much unrequited love among its characters, Conor McPherson’s adaptation of Chekhov’s classic is quite the comedy. The production emphasises the humour in the original, adds some knowing laughs at our expectations of Russian gloom and isn’t even shy to try some slapstick. It makes for one of the most entertaining Chekhovs I’ve seen and deserves huge success as a result.

Toby Jones gets the laughs as the long-suffering titular character, in love with Yelena who has married into his extended family. It’s nice to be reminded of what a natural comedian Jones is, even if there are moments when you might want to feel for his hound-dog character a little more.

Rosalind Eleazar and Aimee Lou Wood in Uncle Vanya at the Harold Pinter Theatre
Rosalind Eleazar and Aimee Lou Wood

Yelena, a sympathetic figure with the help of Rosalind Eleazar’s excellent depiction, has to deal with Vanya’s attentions while being caught in a love triangle with her step-daughter Sonya and the local doctor, Astrov. McPherson surprises again with a sweetness about the romances that comes primarily from Aimee Lou Wood’s brilliant portrayal of Sonya’s crush.

Richard Armitage in Uncle Vanya at the Harold Pinter Theatre
Richard Armitage

For both women, scenes with Richard Armitage’s Astrov, while full of sexual tension, contain a pragmatism that takes out some of their sting. It’s an idea that comes into its own at the play’s conclusion. I didn’t quite buy Astrov as a “helpless animal” because of his passion. By the end it seems I am not supposed to; life goes on despite the trials of the human condition.

Behind the humour, Uncle Vanya is all exhaustion and anhedonia – does this ring hollow amongst the laughter? Or has McPherson created a new tonality for us to consider? There’s no doubting the crispness of his writing or his strong vision. Aided by Ian Rickson’s direction, each household member makes a distinct impression and the action is easy to follow – the production is exceptionally clear. The speech is unintimidating: characters even blow raspberries, expletives are used wisely and monologues direct to the audience provide an intimacy that feels natural.

Dearbhla Molloy in Uncle Vanya at the Harold Pinter Theatre
Dearbhla Molloy

As for McPherson’s ideas, quite rightly, he focuses on the women in the play. Along with Eleazar and Wood, there’s superb support from Anna Calder-Marshall and Dearbhla Molloy. Like most of the characters, Vanya is obsessed by his years – he’s reached the grand age of 47 (makes a man think). But McPherson’s show is marked by youthful appeal. Concerns about the forest (made graphic with the Doctor’s hobby of historical map making) ring environmental alarms that feel topical. And the play’s final words go to the next generation. Sonya’s will to struggle on ends the show on an appropriately optimistic note. There may be only one candle as the curtain descends, but there’s plenty of light.

Until 2 May 2020

www.unclevanyaplay.com

Photography by Johan Persson

“The Painter” at the Arcola Theatre

The much-acclaimed Arcola theatre has relocated closer to Dalston’s refurbished train stations, and it opens its barn-like doors with The Painter, a new play by Rebecca Lenkiewicz. The painter in question is Turner, but biography is really just a primer for Lenkiewicz’s ambitious and engaging look at women, art and society.

With the smell of fresh plaster filling the former paint factory, it’s all very East End art scene. The temptation might be to see Turner as some kind of early YBA, but Lenkiewicz is too clever for this. She manipulates chronology and uses modern idioms to abstract Turner’s obsession with creativity, his battles with patrons and the relationships in his private life.

Toby Jones is excellent in the title role. Under Mehmet Ergen’s skilled direction he gives a refined, understated performance. His character’s complexity is clear, but Jones allows those who perform alongside him to shine.

We encounter three women who seem dangerously close to cliché. A young tart with a heart (Jenny Cole), a widow looking for a new husband (Niamh Cusack), and an overbearing, insane mother (Amanda Boxer) whose fate, like many an awkward woman, is to be institutionalised. Despite the danger of caricature, all three performances are stunning, the actresses bringing out the subtlety of Lenkieweicz’s characters. It’s a close call as to who succeeds most completely. I go for Boxer, who shows unbearable cruelty to her son and then painful lucidity about her mental decline. She edged me to tears.

Lenkiewicz writes taught, short scenes that command attention. All are impeccably handled by Mehmet: offstage screams are chilling and Jim Bywater plays Turner’s father so endearingly that a scene of only a few moments showing his collapse is a sharp, brutal shock.

Unfortunately such brevity doesn’t always serve. In particular Turner’s fumbling lectures at the Royal Academy need elaboration to clarify the connection between the painter’s life and art. As an essay in sublime abstraction Turner himself would probably have approved of Lenkiewicz’s work, but her effort ultimately feels slim. Taking Turner’s work and using it as a palimpsest is a fascinating prospect, but the result is a shadow that is sometimes too faint.

www.arcolatheatre.com

Until 12 February 2011

Photo by Simon Annand

Written 17 January 2011 for The London Magazine