Tag Archives: Wyndham’s Theatre

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“Born With Teeth” at Wyndham’s Theatre

From Shakespeare in Love to Anthony Burgess’ excellent novel, A Dead Man in Deptford, William Shakespeare and Christopher Marlowe make good source material. Playwright Liz Duffy Adams recognises the potential and puts them head to head in a fast, clever piece. If you like your history explored and exploded, this one is for you.

Quite rightly, Duffy Adams isn’t afraid to take liberties with facts (indeed, she points out that both Shakespeare and Marlowe did the same thing). She uses our lack of true knowledge about their lives wisely… they may indeed have worked together on the Henry VI plays, been gay, Catholic or, well, make your own case. And our prejudices about the men are exploited to great effect, with ideas about the brilliant but dangerous spy and occultist Marlowe contrasted with the Bard, who is mysterious or… just a bit boring? The contrast is funny and layers the show with éclat.

Such reputations are overplayed at times – fine for Marlowe but a little tiresome when it comes to Shakespeare. But Duffy Adams goes all in. The dialogue is bracing, with effective deadpan delivery, and a lot of it is rude! There’s a neat balance of period feel and references to the men’s work that, while plentiful, are not overwrought. Director Daniel Evans and designer Joanna Scotcher follow the text’s lead in being a little, shall we say, big. There are bold videos and loud music to introduce scenes. 

Performances are appropriately energetic (especially considering this is two men talking in a room) and downright sexy. The pace is embraced by both performers – Edward Bluemel and Ncuti Gatwa – who will, for many, be the production’s highlight.

Gatwa brings his usual charm to Marlowe, is fantastic with the show’s comedy and provides a passable air of danger. He is excellent when it comes to ego and Marlowe’s is presented as huge. There’s no doubting the stage presence – and how he works his extravagant quill is a sight to behold. As Shakespeare, Bluemel has the tougher task of suggesting depth and intrigue at first and then growing his role. He gets more time with us to try to make sure this works. Shakespeare introduces the scenes and keeps the theme of trust, in art and life, vivid. 

A balance of sympathy, rivalry and attraction between the two men drives the show. But the action is small. For all the talk of espionage, a spy story this is not. The vague idea of having powerful friends and then having to betray people (for why?) doesn’t get going.

Because, as you’d expect, there’s more going on than speculation about two historical figures. Born With Teeth tries to show us two ways to live, two views of the world. There’s plenty of discussion about the men’s philosophies. But it’s heavy-handed and lacks clarity. Marlowe is Machiavellian and strangely resigned to his fate – much more is needed here. Shakespeare ends up an Enlightenment figure, precociously aware of literary theory. It’s interesting, if rushed. And if it’s not altogether convincing, it’s always entertaining.

Until 1 November 2025

www.rsc.org.uk

Photos Johan Persson

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“My Master Builder” at Wyndham’s Theatre

That playwright Lila Raicek new work is “inspired” by Ibsen’s The Master Builderof 1892 is a bit of red herring. OK, there’s an architect involved and adultery (and even vertigo). But the play tries hard to be a think piece for now – putting women to the fore, adding glamour, celebrity and addressing the #MeToo movement. It isn’t boring, but it is spread out thinly. And it doesn’t convince.

As the anniversary of their son’s death approaches, the marriage between Henry and Elena Solness is about to end. The arrival of Henry’s former pupil and fling, Mathilde, is engineered by his wife to make the divorce as messy as possible. It’s dramatic enough, with plenty of speeches about how everyone feels. But notably less attention is paid to grief than the teacher/student affair.

So, from the start, it’s harder to care about the people than it could be. And, unlike Ibsen’s character, there’s nothing provincial about this crowd. Henry, Elena and Mathilde are all super successful. Their wealth is so generic I lost track of where the play was supposed to be set (it’s the Hamptons). As a starchitect, a publishing mogul and an accomplished writer, the trio are the kind of elite that might get on your nerves. 

It’s fun to laugh at their privilege… a bit. But neither their status nor first-world problems are depicted that well. The few luxury symbols or nods to theories dropped in are too easy. And the dialogue is horribly clunky. Which might be deliberate – no one here is quite as clever as they think they are.

There’s clearly extra tension from how inappropriate Henry’s relationship with his student was. But is this really a debate? I guess the twist is how Elena wants to use the event and how Mathilde doesn’t want to cause trouble. It could be interesting – but note how the responses from both women are still really about the man. 

Meanwhile, Mathilde and her college chum Kaia (who happens to be Elena’s PA and also attracted to an older man) turn out to be very whingey Millennials. It’s a damaging stereotype and it doesn’t help the play. Raicek sacrifices Kaia as a foil (although Mirren Mack makes a lot of the role) while Elizabeth Debicki works very hard at a mysterious air for Mathilde to provide some depth to the part. In the end, though, they end up just as “insufferable” as the older characters.

Director Michael Grandage’s staging isn’t as successful as usual. And while Richard Kent’s design looks great, it makes the action feel lost in one scene and then cramped in another. At least the central dynamic between husband and wife, played by Ewan McGregor and Kate Fleetwood, entertains. Both performances are skilled enough to intrigue. It’s left open as to how much genuine affection, let alone passion, exists between them. Is Henry just the old lech we imagine? Is Elena really the villain – Fleetwood does those roles so well – or is there more to her than her bitterness? There isn’t much else to enjoy here, but at least it’s nice to see big names living up to their reputation. In this instance, the show needs the stars.

Until 12 July 2025

www.mymasterbuilderplay.com

Photo by Johan Persson 

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“Long Day’s Journey into Night” at Wyndham’s Theatre

In the satirical novel Cold Comfort Farm there’s a quip that Eugene O’Neill’s plays get in trouble with the RSPCAudiences for being so long. It’s true, you won’t get out of the theatre until quarter past ten if you see Long Day’s Journey into Night. And depending on your seat, you might well be in pain. But this revival from director Jeremy Herrin is a reminder of what a masterpiece the play is. Hard work but worth it.

The piece is remarkably static; as the family Tyrone struggle with their problems, we get a collection of talking heads. Despite drug addiction, drinking and a terminal illness discovered, nobody moves very much. Herrin holds his nerve and keeps the action controlled. Jack Knowles’ lighting is dark and even Tom Gibbons’ excellent music and sound design is minimal. The result is engrossing in a distinctive manner.

Focus is needed because O’Neill’s play is big. There are so many ‘themes’. As a family drama you expect parenthood and home to figure. The “shabby place” Lizzie Clachan’s set makes so sparse offers no distractions. Meanwhile the marriage between James and Mary, and the sibling relationship between James Jr. and Edmund, are all examined with forensic detail. And don’t forget that Long Day’s Journey into Night can be considered a kind of ‘memory play’. Characters are stuck in, or looking to, the past. Is this starting to sound like CliffsNotes? It’s been mentioned already… there’s a lot to think about.

mother’s boy and daddy’s pet

Such material makes fantastic roles for a star-studded cast. Brian Cox takes the lead as patriarch James and is suitably commanding. This is a generous performance; even the fact that James was an actor is underplayed. Cox is the lynchpin of the play but never steals the limelight. The production is an exciting opportunity to see Patricia Clarkson on the London stage and her performance as Mary is terrific. The “constant suspicion” her character suffers from is clear and, as the play goes on, develops a nuance Clarkson’s colleagues feed off. Mary’s drug addiction is never sensationalised, like her son in the play, a role admirably performed by Daryl McCormack; these are characters living with their substance abuse. O’Neill was ahead of his time in seeing addiction as an illness.

long-days-journey-into-night-inset
Laurie Kynaston

Still, it’s Laurie Kynaston who, in making so much in his role as “mother’s boy and daddy’s pet” Edmund, makes the biggest mark. The character is surely closest to O’Neill himself and is written with a ferocious edge, but Kynaston brings a vulnerability to the role that strips away much of his posturing.

As if all the personal drama were not enough, there’s a discussion of pessimism verses optimism hardwired into the text that Herrin brings out brilliantly. James may be a miser but he also looks on the bright side, in conflict with the younger generation’s admiration of Schopenhauer or Nietzsche. Yet even Edmund (so “degenerate” he likes French poetry!) gives us a magnificent philosophical passage about becoming one with nature that provides a highlight.

These characters have big problems and existential angst, there’s so much about thwarted ambition and loneliness, it is easy to see the piece as depressing. But there’s as much affection as pain in the play. From the opening you can sense how the arguments contain love, something gentler. Behind the quips about snoring is the fact that nobody in this house sleeps. They have too much on their minds. But note, everyone is worrying about everyone else being awake.

Until 8 June 2024

www.longdaysjourneylondon.com

Photos by Johan Persson

2021

“Leopoldstadt” at Wyndham’s Theatre

Start your play with a Jewish family in turn of the century Vienna and an audience is sure to have expectations. Tom Stoppard knows this, of course, there’s little Tom Stoppard doesn’t know. But the craft behind his new history play is a marvel. And the emotional power of Leopoldstadt every bit as strong as you’d imagine.

Starting in 1899, things are convivial and a little confusing. We’re introduced to Hermann Merz and an extended family that – like the cast – is huge. As we see them grow up, and the family grow, it’s tough to keep track. Thankfully, Aidan Mcardle and Faye Castelow take the lead as Mr and Mrs Merz, with marital troubles and his conversion to Christianity, to focus on.

Faye Castelow in LEOPOLDSTADT photo credit Marc Brenner
Faye Castelow

The discussions are fascinating and highbrow – after all, this is Vienna and they are Jewish! Identity, mostly, but all manner of politics and culture. There’s a sense of excitement and pride about the city that roots the play. Stoppard sets out issues clearly – it’s a great lesson in intellectual history – but also makes debates feel alive as the characters live them.

Admiration for the cast grows as their characters age. Mcardle and Castelow triumph as Stoppard takes us to the end of their characters’ lives. Jenna Augen’s Rosa, an American relation, is also a highlight with a performance that goes from strength to strength. And it is a thrill to see relatively small roles so fully developed. Sam Hoare is just one example as a British journalist who marries into the family. Director Patrick Marber has neglected nothing, like Brigitte Reiffenstuel’s exquisite costumes, the attention to detail is winning. A sense of grandeur and respect appropriate to the subject infuses the show.

If there are slower moments, the dramatic point behind the depth and detail brought to Leopoldstadt becomes clear as history progresses. A family encounter with Nazi’s is difficult to watch. Seeing the characters, we have so deftly been made to respect and admire, cowered and humiliated is painful. What happens feels unbelievable. Shocking. And that’s quite an achievement when we all know the awful history.

Arty Froushan, Jenna Augen and Sebastian Armesto
Arty Froushan, Jenna Augen and Sebastian Armesto

Stoppard gives us the space to think about history. A scene set in 1955 focuses on the encounter between a younger generation: Leo, who escaped to Britain, and Nathon, who has survived a concentration camp. If Sebastian Armesto and Arty Frouhsan play the roles broadly, they match the peculiar underlying tension to the scene which compliments the extremes of their experience. As Leo learns the fates of his family from Augen (who makes Rosa’s suffering palpable) we are made aware of how close we’ve become to them all leading to a conclusion of intense theatrical power.

Until 30 October 2021

www.leooldstadtplay.com

Photos by Marc Brenner

2019

"Curtains" at Wyndham’s Theatre

Although this musical comedy by Kander and Ebb – creators of Cabaret and Chicago – is never going to be regarded as their best work it’s still a credible piece, being clever, funny and always entertaining. It’s a spoof of musical theatre itself and of the detective genre, which means there’s a lot going on. Unfortunately, at the unhappy performance I attended, it feels that the content is simply too much for this company to tackle.

Jason Manford and Leah Barbara West
Jason Manford and Leah Barbara West

At an out-of-town run for a turkey of show called Robbin Hood, the drunken star is killed while taking an underserved bow. And since that death might be the best thing for those onstage and off, the suspects are plentiful. In a nice twist, our detective, Frank Cioffi, is a theatre lover who sets about saving the show as well as solving the crime. Jason Manford takes the sleuthing role and acquits himself well. It’s a shame that there’s too little chemistry with his love interest Niki (played by Leah Barbara West). These are well-written roles that feel neglected by director Paul Foster, who plumps instead for the eye-catching director and producer characters who provide comedy highlights via the performances of Samuel Holmes and Rebecca Lock.

Samuel Holmes in 'Curtain' at Wyndhams Theatre
Samuel Holmes

Kander and Ebb don’t make things easy for themselves (or anyone) as Robbin Hood is reworked, and improved before our eyes. It’s an interesting idea for lovers of the genre but needs more pace and more signposting than Foster provides. As Noises Off just down the road shows, when you pretend to be bad you really have to be very good. A delay at the start of my showing created suspicions of problems, then a real scenery malfunction created very much the wrong atmosphere.

Curtains The Musical credit The Other Richard
Alan Burkitt

Of course, this is just one performance in a long run, and such things happen. But there are other disappointments. Having only seen the show in a fringe production before, I should have found a large-scale version more exciting. Foster doesn’t infuse enough ambition into the piece and the stage seems sparsely populated. Alistair David’s choreography does not help; the dance seems laboured – no matter how well delivered by Alan Burkitt and Emma Caffrey, who do well with their roles as Bobby Pepper and Bambi Bernet – an awful lot of effort for little result. Worse still, Curtains should be a lot funnier: Rupert Holmes’ book builds expertly and the lyrics are smart. For some reason, the composers of the show within the show seem instructed not to even try for a laugh, which means that performances from Andy Coxon and Carley Stenson may sound great but end up – like the production as a whole – flat and disappointing.

Until 11 January 2020

curtainsmusical.com

Photos by Richard Davenport

2019

“The Starry Messenger” at Wyndham’s Theatre

Reprising his mammoth role in Kenneth Lonergan’s 2009 play proves an undoubted triumph for Matthew Broderick. As Mark, a “pedestrian” teacher of astronomy classes, Broderick delivers the text’s wit perfectly and sparse moments of emotion are superbly handled. But consider what an odd creation Mark is, being notable for dead-pan defeatism, extraordinary patience and unbelievable politeness. It’s a bizarre idea for a play to revel in how boring the main role is. Broderick meets the challenge with winning appeal and remarkable control. Yet nothing can make time with this character and his mid-life crisis stellar.

Lonergan’s odd strategies are clear in his dialogue, too. Ruthlessly pursuing a mundane realism means that long conversations go nowhere and are filled with pointless details. It’s an achievement of sorts but hard work for an audience. And, in case you’re wondering, we’re not talking metaphors here – Mark is insistent about that! As for the play’s plots, to have so many stories covering so many themes – death, divorce, family, faith and education – then not to develop them must be deliberate. The quirkiness has a certain charm, which director Sam Yates does an expert job in delivering. And yet… Presenting us with the cosmos and dry cleaning – big themes and minutiae – may take us close to everyday life, but it makes for pretty dull theatre.

There’s plenty to appreciate as Lonergan downplays the various dramas he sets up. Yates garners superb performances from a talented cast that form a collection of scenes with memorable moments. Elizabeth McGovern does well as Mark’s long-suffering wife, while Jim Norton gives a strong performance as a man at the end of his life. Even Mark’s pupils are well delineated (Jenny Galloway and Sid Sagar) although far too much time is spent in these scenes. And Rosalind Eleazar nearly steals the show as a nurse in training who starts an affair with Mark. Managing to make her passion for the man believable is no small achievement.

There’s a warm glow from all the characters – more or less reasonable, articulate and well-motivated – which indicates Lonergan is making a point, again. It’s another way to stifle drama. Most of us walking in on an illicit kiss would surely react a little more pointedly than we see here. For The Starry Messenger it all seems to be something to shrug at. That life has no meaning is a little too clear, and religion and spirituality are dismissed too repeatedly – at least to make good drama. But, like it or not, most of us search for insights from a play. What this one has to say about morality and mortality ends up slim. Three hours is a long time to point out that people are insignificant specks in the universe. Such a message is hardly out of this world.

Until 10 August 2019

www.starrymessengerplay.com

Photo by Marc Brenner

2018

“The Height of the Storm”at Wyndham’s Theatre

The new hit from French playwright Florian Zeller, translated as usual by Christopher Hampton, treads familiar ground. It intelligently manipulates audience expectations and is expertly theatrical– to his credit, you can’t imagine Zeller’s work in any other medium. As with hisprevious play, The Father, dementia and the impact on a family of that awful disease are the subject matter. But the love story of a devoted couple, André and Madeleine, one of whom dies, means The Height of the Storm can mine the  depths of even more emotion.

Zeller’s writing seems a gift to directors, and Jonathan Kent’s work here is faultless and attractive to performers. Amanda Drew and Anna Madeley play the daughters of the piece impeccably, never overstating their characters’ differences. And there are two strong performances from James Hillier and Lucy Cohu as strangers who flit between supporting and threatening the family. But the play belongs to André and Madeleine, played by Jonathan Pryce and Eileen Atkins – two masterclasses not to be missed. Pryce gives a tender performance detailing the fears of old age, while Atkins magnificently develops her role’s carefully revealed depths. Together their devotion as a couple is utterly convincing and incredibly moving.

While set in Zeller’s typically sophisticated milieu (André is a man of letters and Anthony Ward’s design of his house is retro-boho-chic), the rawness of grief removes us from the urbane characters that can sometimes feel foreign in his plays. The twist is a painful one – we don’t really know whether it’s André or Madeleine who has died. The confusion isn’t just because of André’s dementia. When the couple talk to one another it isn’t clear if the scene is a flashback or a grief-stricken fantasy, and they both refer to the other dying. So, Zeller presents us with both scenarios and the awful question of what would be ‘best’ arises – for you or your partner to die first? And which of your parents could cope best on their own?

Some may find Zeller’s approach opaque, but his skill at crafting the confusion is brilliant. The Height of the Storm opens up a debate about the end of our lives that is urgent and, in privileging the perspective of the elderly, an important contribution. We are taken to the heart of the drama and the issue at the same time and asked to confront both in a personal fashion. The finale emphasises the couple’s love. It reminds us of their agency as well as what is at stake. And, if you haven’t been crying already, you will be by the end.

Until 1 December 2018

www.theheightofthestorm.com

Photos by Hugo Glendinning

2017

“Labour of Love” at Wyndham’s Theatre

Thirty years of a political party’s history doesn’t sound like a West End hit. But, as this new play by James Graham joins the transfer of his Ink just down the road, you can’t question the young playwright’s commercial acumen. I am sure someone has worked out the last time a living writer had two new plays performing at the same time – it doesn’t happen often and is to be celebrated. Graham’s talent is obvious – the strength of his writing lies in his humour, and Labour of Love is funny from start to finish.

There’s a conventional love story here, which develops a little too late, between the MP whose career we follow and his constituency secretary, Jean. Their fumbling romance is sweet and gets laughs. There’s love of a place, too: a concerted effort to depict the constituency as a character, detailing the destruction of a community. It’s a shame that the Nottingham location is depicted as The North – it isn’t, it’s The Midlands. Pushing accents geographically up the country must have been a conscious decision, but seems odd given how thorough Graham’s research is. But it’s really the love of the Labour Party that is interesting.

The history is entertaining, the observations acute, the use of hindsight effective and all of it is, yes, funny. Graham has written a lot about politics and his satire is distinctive. He seldom doubts the good intentions of our rulers and portrays them as human. While many would succumb to cynicism, Graham resists, which makes his work level headed and quietly inspirational.

Taking the leads are Martin Freeman as the amiable MP and Tamsin Greig as Jean. The comic timing of both is immaculate. Freeman is given more to work with when developing his character, and he suggests the passage of time in the play effectively. However, the play belongs to Jean. A card-carrying member of the party since she was 12 (she lied about her age), with a sincerity and passion that is palpable, her plain speaking and fruity swearing make her irresistible.

Jeremy Herrin’s direction is clear and thorough – the competency of the cast and strength of the script mean fancy touches aren’t necessary. Going backwards then forwards in time means it helps to know the history a little, as the archive footage offered isn’t quite enough. I feared for an American contingent of Freeman fanatics, but they seemed to enjoy themselves enormously. Graham isn’t shy of a bad pun or lame joke – he provides both with remarkable rapidity. Freeman and Greig tackle the speed of the gags with ease, making each and every one a winner.

Until 2 December 2017

www.labouroflovetheplay.co.uk

Photo by Johan Persson

2017

“Heisenberg: The Uncertainty Principle” at Wyndham’s Theatre

Werner Heisenberg’s scientific theories provide the intellectual scaffolding of Simon Stephens’ new play. The principle – that measuring objects reveals an underlying uncertainty in physics – supplies a riff on the unexpected that’s lightly played alongside an unconventional romance. There’s little to boggle the mind here. Instead, this is a play full of laughs, affection… and a good deal of wisdom.

The relationship between Georgie and Alex is taboo-breaking because of their 33-year age gap. And both characters are pretty eccentric overall. The plot thickens (there’s a son to search for), but all the unusual behaviour is really about destabilising our expectations. It’s just two people getting to know one another – but, my, how this twists.

The couple meet by accident, of course, but each encounter contains the unexpected. It’s the distance between the characters that Stephens explores, akin to a comment Alex makes about music happening “between the notes”. Their age is one way they have different perspectives on their “shared experience”, and seeing both views makes this a two-hander of considerable depth and intimacy.

The play requires subtlety to work. Stephens’ frequent collaborator Marianne Elliott directs with an appropriately quiet confidence. The set by Bunny Christie is a stylish sliding affair with complementary mood lighting (from Paule Constable). But nothing distracts us from the quiet story of intricate observations. The performances from Anne-Marie Duff and Kenneth Cranham are superb. Both embrace their characters’ quirks to make the play entertaining. Cranham’s “wily old fox” is full of charm and intelligence, while Duff embodies Grace’s vulnerability and her quality of being “exhausting but captivating”. Uncertainty, as a principle to live by, is a peculiarly powerful idea. Few of us may be convinced by it, but this play presents the unpredictable in a charmingly determined fashion.

Until 6 January 2018

www.delfontmackintosh.co.uk

Photo by Brinkhoff Mögenburg

2016

“No Man’s Land” at Wyndham’s Theatre

The star billing of Ian McKellen and Patrick Stewart is undoubtedly the draw for this revival of Harold Pinter’s 1974 play. Masterclass is the term the critics use, quite rightly, and fans of these greats won’t be disappointed. It’s encouraging to see followers of Star Trek and Tolkien take a trip to the theatre, and the crowd during my visit showed a degree of respect welcome in any audience. This is a strong production, and yet, while the devotees clearly had a good time seeing their idols, fans of Pinter may be less satisfied.

Director Sean Mathias has a keen eye for the entertainment value of this play – his strength is in his appreciation of Pinter’s humour. McKellen benefits most. As a down-at-heel, unsuccessful poet, yet “free man”, who unwittingly becomes the guest of a famous literary savant, he cuts a chipper figure and makes the dialogue light, with lots of laughs. Stewart’s role is more obviously subtle. Deadpan humour combines with poignancy in a character who lives in a privileged “world of silk” but is haunted by the past, losing his mind and waiting to die. Despite a few clichéd Pinter pauses, quiet, awkward moments are brief and it’s all surprisingly sprightly.

Ian McKellen and Patrick Stewart joined by Damien Molony and Owen Teale
Ian McKellen and Patrick Stewart joined by Damien Molony and Owen Teale

This is fast and funny Pinter and a pleasant take on the play. But a price has to be paid. As the encounter between these two men becomes more surreal, Stewart can convey tragedy but McKellen’s desperation isn’t convincing. Playing for laughs, the companions who look after Stewart’s character lack menace: Owen Teale and Damien Molony have presence but their roles become purposeless. Pinter’s sharp eye on class and its “quaint little perversions” become rather toothless and nostalgic. Matthias may intrigue newcomers to Pinter, and the performances make the production worth seeing, but this is a flat and disappointing version of a complex play.

Until 17 December 2016

www.nomanslandtheplay.com

Photos by Johan Persson