Thoughts and Reviews!

Anthony and Cleopatra at The Courtyard Theatre

2010-05-14T14:39:00.000-07:00

Michael Boyd’s production of this classic play got off to a steamy start. The two eponymous lovers enjoyed a sensual kiss in twin circles of light whilst Anthony’s soldiers looked on; the idea presumably being to show how their love isolated them from their followers. It had the dual effect however of distancing the audience. We were merely visitors sneaking a glance into an epic love story. However, once the opening scene was out the way the pace picked up and we were suddenly thrust into the heady, humid world of Cleopatra’s Egypt. A world of excess; music, wine, passion was in abundance.

Cleopatra herself (played with lithe, muscular sensuality by Kathryn Hunter) was a rock star, never seen in the same outfit twice, miniature pistol thrust reliably into her garter. Though Hunter’s portrayal was light years away from the likes of Elizabeth Taylor she imbued Cleopatra with a danger and theatricality I’d never seen before. In comparison to Cleopatra’s tiny stature, Darrell D’Silva’s Anthony was a broad, bearded warrior whose voice and physical presence dominated the play. There were perfectly matched. Ably supported by a universally strong supporting cast, this production was a triumph of ensemble acting.

My only criticism would be that Anthony and Cleopatra is a ‘wordy’ play, if you’ll forgive the obliqueness of the term and needs to be properly digested. Boyd’s production rattled along at such a pace that at times it felt rushed. Sometimes the intense verbal wordplay between Anthony and Cleopatra, or the political debate between Anthony and Octavius was lost. The Courtyard Theatre lends itself to speedy productions. The flexible space with its many entrances and exits allow actors to launch themselves on stage from all angles, deliver lines at breakneck speed before vanishing. Whilst visually this can be striking, I would prefer to see Boyd slow them down a little to allow audience members unfamiliar with the plot to keep up. But this is only a little moan. The production on the whole was exciting, dynamic and thrilling. An extremely enjoyable evening of theatre.

Othello at The Warwick Arts Centre

2010-03-09T13:17:00.000-08:00

The RSC’s latest production of Othello marks Kathryn Hunter’s directorial debut with the company. I was interested to see whether she could create a new interpretation out of one of Shakespeare’s most popular plays.
I entered the auditorium to the dull beat of a drum. As I took my seat a guitar and a double bass joined the noise. As the house lights dimmed the drumbeat increased. The stage was black and empty, save for two large staircases on either side. The music took on a religious feel as the actors took to the stage. Othello pushed his way through the crowd of Venetian’s chanting Gregorian melodies to sing a rich African song. Here was a man constantly torn throughout the production between his African heritage and conventions of Venetian society. Though he sang an African chant he wore the same formal tuxedo as the Venetians. In Hunter’s play it was this cultural difference that helped lead Othello to his downfall.
Naiambana’s Othello dominated the performance throughout. The scars on his face and the bulging muscles under his formal suit showed the audience that this was a man far more comfortable leading an army into battle, than attending a dinner party. It was clear also that the Venetians desperately needed Othello’s strength. The Duke, old and wheelchair bound, begged Othello to protect them against the Turks.
Natalie Tena’s Desdemona ably matched Naiambana’s strength and sexuality. This was the strongest Desdemona I have ever seen on stage. In the final scene she fought back to save her life, brandishing a broken bottle as Othello whirled a whip. She towered over the diminutive Roderigo and frightened the smarmy Iago, proving herself to be the equal of Othello in status.
Marcelo Margini’s Roderigo was a physical fool. His capering and idiocy making a striking contrast to Naiambana’s resolute Othello. At one point he was unable to even fire a gun. It was obvious why Desdemona had chosen Othello over him.
Tamzin Griffin was an alcoholic, older Emilia, worn out with care over her husband whom she was clearly still sexually obsessed with. In a scene that was at once touching and horrific, Iago sneakily passed her a bottle of scotch as a reward for keeping quiet.
Hunter included some interesting scenic devices in this production. Two large staircases at the back of the stage were combined to make bridges and ships. It was the actors who created these sets. At one point during Othello’s epileptic fit, Iago conducted the chorus of actors to create waves out of the scenery. This was obviously designed to show his power over the other characters on stage, as well as the very stage itself. Sadly this degree of control was not reflected in Michael Gould’s performance as Iago. At times he was so subtle that it was difficult to detect how much he truly hated the Moor. There was a also distance between Iago and the audience, even in his soliloquies, which made it difficult to relish in his plotting. Hunter created a world of hot danger on stage. The characters existed in a tense militarised state, torn between the ‘straight jacketed’ norms of Venetian behaviour and the steamy manners of Cyprus. Race and sexuality bubbled constantly under the civilised surface. Hunter may have intended us to feel as alienated by this world as Othello does. The opening of the second half had the Clown, played ably by Miltos Yerolemou enter ‘blacked up’. The soldiers responded with cheers and laughter as the clown danced with a white doll, crudely mocking Othello and Desdemona’s relationship. The nervous titter from the audience showed how uncomfortable Hunter’s production was making them feel. In a particularly grisly and effective piece of staging, Iago grabbed the white doll and smeared ball shoe polish onto its crotch.
There were several inconsistencies in this production, which I felt let it down. It was set in the early twentieth century and yet the men and women behaved in a very modern way. Tena’s Desdemona seemed too fiery in public.
I also felt Hunter relied heavily on props, the symbolism of which was unclear to the audience. Othello kept the broken bottle, which Cassio had used in a brawl, throughout the play and it was not made clear to the audience why he did this.
Naiambana’s Othello slowed his lines down to give each one power and emphasis but whilst this worked well in the earlier scenes it slowed the pace of the production down. It was particularly bad in the final scene where Naiambana spent several minutes pacing around the stage after killing Desdemona. Naiambana’s presence did dominate the stage however, and this made it impossible for Gould’s Iago to control it. The production centred so closely on Naiambana’s performance there was little room for any other character to make an impression.
This was a disappointing production. A weak-supporting cast combined with a slow pace and some fairly ambiguous prop and scenic devices made for a sluggish and opaque production.

The Miser at The Belgrade Theatre

2010-02-19T09:31:00.000-08:00

This production of Moliere’s classic play is a new version by translator David Johnston. Having recently watched a production of his translation of ’Barnarda Alba’ and having acted in his translations of ‘The Dog in the Manger’ and ‘Play Without A Title’ I was keen to see his latest work. The result is a fast-paced, bawdy piece of theatre focusing on the machinations of a miserly Scot living in 17th Century Warwickshire.
The actors enter through the audience before disappearing into the wings, setting up an immediate informality with the audience. Indeed, this is a show which does not shy away from confronting its public. It seemed that every other line was directed at the audience, either to get a laugh or to hammer home a moralistic fact of life. Whilst initially this was irreverently charming, it eventually became tiresome as the action on stage was interrupted yet again. Whilst Johnston’s translation was at times very funny, I felt that the actors pushed every line for a laugh which sacrificed much of the play’s seriousness. At times the production even felt like a series of increasingly racy masturbation jokes. Moliere’s play is a tragic-comedy and yet much of the tragedy was lost in this production. Instead of getting a rumination on the nature of greed and its alienating effect, we got several hours of (albeit very funny) pantomime.
I also took exception to the presence of a musician who covered most of the scene changes by walking on stage and playing a clarinet. By entering the space and playing on stage she was set up as a character, yet she was only acknowledged once. There was no indication as to who she was. What was she doing in the Miser’s house? Surely he would not have hired her? It would have been much easier for her to have played offstage, therefore removing any misunderstanding. As it was, it seemed like a fairly contrived theatrical technique which served little purpose.
Of course this all makes it seem that I did not enjoy this production; in fact quite the opposite. I laughed heartily throughout most of it, and for every fault it had many admirable qualities. Firstly the stage design was excellent. A decaying, crumbling shell of a building shrouded in inch-thick dust; light filtering through cracks in the mildew-stained, wooden paneling. The stage was virtually bare, save for two broken chairs and a gnarled, wooden staircase that twisted, spine-like up to two barren balconies. Whilst accurately conjuring an air of miserly desolation and hardship, I felt there was little on the stage for the actors to interact with, which meant they spent most of their time pacing up and down the lip of the stage.
The acting was also, on the whole, very good. Andy Gray propelled the action forward with an exuberant performance as the Scottish Miser. Every line was milked for its comic potential and then fired at the audience at high speed. Part moral philosopher, part disgruntled Rab. C Nesbit, Gray was undoubtedly the star of the show. He was ably supported by Will Tacey and Lin Blakley who excelled in their funny (if somewhat small) roles. Keith Faulkner gave a charismatic performance as the Miser’s foppish son, but sadly Lily Bevan failed to make much of an impression as his erstwhile daughter.
In all, a lively, energetic piece of theatre, which had no pretension of being anything other than a knockabout comedy. Some strong acting, and high production values makes it worth the two hour viewing. However, don’t go expecting mediation on the threat of capitalism or the financial crisis.

Arabian Nights at The Courtyard Theatre.

2010-01-06T16:06:00.000-08:00

Dominic Cooke’s new theatrical adaptation of the series of classic stories is certainly a feast for the eyes. Boasting a lively eighteen strong company and an innovative stage design this two hour long production succeeded admirably in transporting the audience to the Middle East. The plot focuses on the young, beautiful Shahrazad telling stories to her husband, the king in order to prolong her own life. Ayesha Dharker gives a vibrant, charismatic performance as Shahrazad, whilst Silas Carson is suitably intimidating as Shahrayar the heart-broken, vengeful king. To placate him Shahrazad tells him six stories, including the well-known Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves. At first the king is content to sit back and watch but as Shahrazad’s stories revive him he starts to join in the telling. The stories are enacted by the energetic cast, notable among who was Simon Trinder, whose energetic gambolling was a highlight of the show.
Merely running through a series of ancient stories may have become tiresome but this was saved by the slick performances and even slicker scene changes. Actors bounded onto the stage transforming into a dozen characters before leaping away.
This is a show clearly aimed at children and Cooke has cleverly filled the production with magic. Potions are magically transported though the air, a globe rolls around the stage on its own, coins appear magically from an open hand; each new illusion drew squeal of delight from the appreciative audience.
The stage was bare apart from a sand filled circle. As the actors moved around the stage they kicked up the sand until the air was filled with sand and spice, accurately capturing the scent of the Arabian Desert. This sandy stage also proved to be extremely flexible; gold could be buried in it, crystal balls effortlessly pulled out through it.
The highlight of the production for me was the excellent use of puppetry. The story of Es-sindibad (the sailor) was told exclusively with puppets beautifully manipulated by the cast. Handkerchiefs became the wings of eagles, snakes were created with arms and at times the small golden puppet representing Es-sindibad seemed genuinely alive. My only regret was that the puppets were not used throughout.
All in all a magical, enjoyable evening; a perfect Christmas treat for the whole family.

Jiggery Pokery at The Warwick Arts Centre.

2009-11-23T16:26:00.000-08:00

Jiggery Pokery is based on the tragic life story of the tortured comic actor Charles Hawtrey. It follows Hawtrey’s life from his youth as a child star in Peter Pan, through his days with Will Hay, his forties where he found wide-spread fame in the Carry-on films, his ignominious, lonely later years, where a drunk Hawtrey felt increasingly isolated and finally his death from a gangrene infection after a drunken fall in his house.
The interesting aspect of this production is that all the characters (over eighty) are played by the same actor- Amanda Lawrence, who does the seemingly impossible task of playing all ninety without getting confused. In fact Lawrence’s characters (which include Hawtrey’s Mother, Lawrence Olivier, Sid James and Barbara Windsor) are all so distinct that you forget you are watching the same actress. It is truly a stunning performance from Lawrence, whose energy never falters over the hour running time.
The set, mapped out with white tape, is an open-plan house with rooms depicting various important places in Hawtrey’s life: the office of his dance teacher, his mother’s kitchen, the pub where he drank himself to death. The stage is filled with a variety of props each inventively used to create the various characters.
Lawrence also mimes over recordings of Hawtrey’s performances. These serve to remind the audience of Hawtrey’s trademark style as well as allow Lawrence to show just how good her impression is. Jiggery Pokery is an exceptional piece of theatre, beautifully and sensitively performed by a talented actress. It allows a brief insight into the world of sad and bitter man who was tragically unable to beat his addiction.

The Beauty Queen of Leenane at The Belgrade Theatre.

2009-11-19T09:20:00.000-08:00

Martin McDonagh has become something of a doyen among modern British writers. Ever since the first performance of this, his first published play, in 1996 at the Royal Court Theatre, his star has been in ascendance. Needless to say I was extremely excited at the prospect of seeing this production, having never seen the play performed before and thankfully the production did not fail to deliver.
The setting was a dusty, rustic cottage. The walls exposed to allow the audience to minutely examine the inhabitants of the house. This was clearly a house stuck in the past. The furniture old and dusty, the walls cracked and chipped, their plaster peeling. Dominating the action, centre-stage was an antique wood stove that flickered and spluttered throughout. This was a world under scrutiny, a world where everyone knew his or her neighbours business. A tangled, unkempt garden was just visible behind the back wall of the cottage giving the impression that the outside world was slowly starting to invade the cottage. It was clear to the audience that we were looking at a remote, inhospitable prison where the inmates had no choice but to interact with each other. The stage was lit with a pallid, yellow hue whilst the world outside the cottage was pitch black. This sickly contrast nicely evoked the feel of the house; beige Complan, grey porridge, yellow urine poured down the sink.
Two women are trapped in this space, Mag and her daughter Maureen. This is the archetypal parasitic relationship with Mag tormenting her already brittle daughter until the inevitable happens. The strength of this production was its acting. Both Carole Dance as Mag and Alice Selwyn as Maureen excelled in their roles; skilfully making the audience continually change sympathies. One moment you loathe Mag for her selfishness, the next you pity her for her daughters cruel treatment. Both actresses were ably supported by Alan DeVally as Ray Dooley and Paul Boyle as his brother Pato. Both these characters represented the possibility of change, the promised escape and it is the great tragedy of the play that this promise goes unfulfilled. Alan DeVally had a nervous energy, which contrasted nicely with the sullen stillness of Dance's Mag.
Being a McDonagh play you inevitably get a mix of black humour and extreme violence and in this play they are combined cleverly to make you laugh one moment at the foolishness of something Mag has said and then gasp in horror at Maureen’s reaction to it.
During all of the scene changes traditional Celidh music was played, which served to locate the play very much in rural Ireland.
I have one issue with the production however. Being a naturalistic play the director obviously had to maintain the ‘literal’ nature of the house, and did this by having characters only enter and leave the stage through the two doors, both of which were located stage right. Whilst this did make the house seem real, it also meant that several scene changes looked messy, as several characters had to cross the stage while other action was happening. The production would have felt slicker if characters could have exited stage left also.
All in all an excellent, well-acted production, which accurately conveyed the claustrophobia and despair that is so bound up in McDonagh’s text. Black humour and brutal characters combine to create a frighteningly enjoyable evening of entertainment.

Days of Significance at The Belgrade Theatre.

2009-11-13T04:46:00.001-08:00

Roy Williams' play deals primarily with the friction between youthful freedom and adult responsibility set against the backdrop of the war in Afghanistan. The play is essentially split into three acts; the first a standard weekend night out where two young men reveal their desire to go to fight in Iraq, the second a scene from the front line of the war in Iraq where the young men have to face up to the realities of the war, and finally the wedding to which only one of the young men comes back to.
Interestingly the first section of the play is an updated version of the ‘plot of Shakespeare's 'Much Ado About Nothing’; Hannah (the Hero character) is insulted by Jamie based on Claudio, and in response her best friend Trish (short for Beatrice) gets her boy friend Ben (the Benedick character) and also Jamie’s best friend to ‘beat him up’. Inevitably, as in ‘Much Ado’ the characters are reconciled and they spend a night together wondering about their future. This is where ‘Days of Significance’ takes over from ‘Much Ado’ and continues the story. ‘Much Ado’ deals with soldiers coming back from war and falling in love, whilst the characters in ‘Days of Significance’ fall in love before going off to war. In ‘Days of Significance’ we are denied the happy ending of ‘Much Ado’.The first thing you notice when entering the auditorium is the sense of decay. A large-cola sign dominates the sign, torn across the middle, giving the impression of urban grime. It is clear we are witnessing a standard Saturday evening; neon signs flicker and buzz filling the space with their tinny growl; a kebab stand, proudly displaying its special offers, quietly steams in the corner, the smell of kebabs and lager permeating the stage. Into this space burst two young men, grappling and cursing, flinging each other about the stage until their mates intervene. It is clear to the audience that we are not going to be spared any of the ‘gory details’ of a typical Saturday night. Before we are even fifteen minutes into the play people have vomited over themselves, urinated against walls and sprayed mayonnaise onto each other’s clothes. This general horseplay and youthful abandon creates an atmosphere of complete youthful freedom. This is a world without consequence; even the police seem powerless to keep the lads under control.The second section of the play is a far sombre affair. A previously darkened section of the stage, directly beneath the coca-cola sign, is lit to reveal a war-torn building in Afghanistan. The ‘heroes’ of the first section Ben and Jamie suddenly burst violently into the space under heavy gunfire but unlike the first section this time the violence is real. The contrast between the bright, colourful, neon world of the first act and the stark white washed walls of the second act provide a nice distinction between the two. This time it is blood not vomit that is flooding the stage and staining their clothes. The banter of the lads vanishes. The bravado they displayed when mocking the consistently downbeat police officers disappears when they are faced with a real threat.The third act deals with the aftermath of the Afghanistan conflict. Only one of the two young men comes back and their friends at home are left to deal with fallout of the war. The third act takes the form of a particularly bawdy wedding, the excesses of which again provides a nice juxtaposition to the previous section.Whilst the scenes of working-class Britain life are clearly designed to provide a stark contrast with the soldiers’ lives in Afghanistan I felt they sometimes seemed a little patronising. All the modern 'chav' clichés and stereotypes were present: badly sung Karaoke, cheap booze and 'slutty' bridesmaids. The bride even had a packet of cigarettes stuffed down the cleavage of her wedding dress. It was these little touches probably intended to show a gritty, uncompromising view of working class Britain that I felt let the production down. They added a ‘pantomimic’ aspect to acts one and three that jarred with the strong naturalistic performances in act two.However, the play did boast several very powerful performances. Worth a mention is Toby Wharton as Ben the young man desperately trying to work out what he future he has and Sarah Ridgeway as Trish, a character fearless in the defence of her friends. I was particularly impressed by David Kennedy’s performance as Lenny, the father of Hannah, as a man desperately trying to hold his daughter’s fragile life together.All in all this was an interesting piece of theatre that questions how much young people actually know about the war they are enlisting for. As one character puts it they are only going to war because ‘Saddam’s a cunt.’ It made me realise the desperation some young people feel when they find themselves leaving school without any direction in life. Several strong performances and some interesting staging as well as innovative use of video projection make this a show worth seeing.

Porridge at The Belgrade Theatre Coventry.

2009-10-19T17:05:00.000-07:00

I am unashamed to admit that I was looking forward to this production. I am a huge fan of the original television series and I was interested to see how it would translate onto the stage. Sadly, it was my fondness of the original that made this stage adaptation seem lacklustre.
It is not that it was badly acted; in fact the production boasted several enjoyable and charismatic performances, which if viewed on their own merits are completely acceptable. However when they are compared to the original t.v show performances they seem merely to be weak imitations. In fact the term ‘weak imitation’ can sum up this production. I was hoping for a new play; a unique text, some jokes I hadn’t heard before. Excitingly the stage play was scripted by the original writers Dick Clement and Ian La Frenais. Instead the audience were presented with several of the most well known episodes condensed into a two-hour play. Therefore the fans were presented with their favourite lines and jokes acted out by inferior performers.
If anything this production was fairly insulting to any fans of the series. They paid money to see jokes they had heard previously spoken by the incomparable Ronnie Barker, acted out by a fairly average bunch of actors.
The show did have its merits. A simple but effective stage, managed to convey the spirit of Slade Prison. Sean Williamson ('Barry off Eastenders') took on the nigh impossible task of re-creating Fletcher and whilst his performance was not in the same league as Ronnie Barker’s he did a creditable job, and it was his charisma that managed to carry the show.
It was laziness that let this production down. If the play had had a new script the audience would have had nothing to compare against, but by recycling the original text they were setting themselves an impossible task. It is an impossible task to re-create the magic of the television series. All in all a disappointing evening of theatre.

Deepcut at The Warwick Arts Centre

2009-10-17T09:54:00.000-07:00

Philip Ralph’s play explores the four mysterious deaths at Deepcut Barracks in Surrey between 1995-2002. It focuses on the aftermath of the suicide of the lively and likeable Private Cheryl James from Llangollen who seems, at the age of 18, to have had everything going for her, but whose death, like those of the other three soldiers, was automatically assumed by the authorities to be suicide.

Combining interviews with Cheryl’s grief-stricken parents with official documentation, journalism and conversations with the other major players directly involved in the story (including a young female officer at the barracks at the same time as Cheryl) the production leaves little doubt that the investigations into the deaths were completely muddled.

The play has its flaws. I would have liked to see more descriptions of the general culture at Deepcut, which we are told by Private Jones was incredibly close to being out of control on a heady mix of drink, sex and violence. The play also suffers from several mixed performances; some acutely well realised, others painfully caricatured.

The problem of verbatim theatre is that it can only show what was actually recorded in the interviews, therefore from an audience's perspective this means a lot of the story is missing. We can never hear Cheryl’s voice or watch Private B explain himself.

Verbatim theatre can be honest and it can be harrowing in its honesty but it can be frustratingly incomplete. It also begs the question, ‘Is theatre the right medium for this story?’ In fact should this story even be performed? Personally I think it should, as the tragic events definitely need telling; they just need telling well.

The play undoubtedly persuades the audience that a great injustice took place, which is surely a good thing. While the play exists, the case cannot be closed. We can never know exactly how Cheryl James died. All we can do is remember that a young woman lost her life and surely this play is the best way of doing that.

Prick Up Your Ears at The Comedy Theatre

2009-10-12T09:58:00.000-07:00

Prick Up Your Ears depicts the difficult relationship between Joe Orton and his lover Kenneth Halliwell. Based on true-events, the playwright Simon Bent has used John Lahr’s biography of Orton as his starting point. And this is where the production hits its first major flaw in that it doesn’t tell us anything new about the lives of Orton and Halliwell. Anyone who has read the Joe Orton’s diaries or seen the film based on them (also entitled Prick Up Your Ears) would be well aware of the outcome. This play needed to do something different or at least show us something new. Unfortunately it did neither. However, its saving grace was the performances. Matt Lucas’s Halliwell was a bubbling, neurotic failed writer, crippled into self-loathing by Orton’s success. In comparison Chris New’s Orton was a swaggering, self-confident, highly sexed individual. The higher Orton’s star became the lower Halliwell sank. As Mrs Corden the housekeeper, Gwen Taylor got the funniest lines in the production, (which she gleefully played upon) making the play at times feel like one of Orton’s own comedies. However she also brought a depth of feeling to the part, which made her more than just a walk-on comedy role.
The set was a tight ‘box’ modelled exactly on the dimensions of Halliwell and Orton’s room. Throughout the production the audience got the sense of the claustrophobia the two men must have felt. As Halliwell’s frustration and paranoia grew so did the collage he built on the wall until it consumed the space, making the cramped set feel even more oppressed. All in all this was an entertaining piece of theatre with some strong performances, but sadly it failed to say anything new about Orton and Halliwell’s tragic relationship

The Tempest at the Courtyard Theatre

2009-10-12T05:44:00.000-07:00

The last time I saw the Baxter Theatre perform a Shakespearean play it was back in 2005 with Hamlet. After having seen their excellent interpretation of the play I hoped to see more collaborations between the RSC and outside companies. These collaborations failed to materialise until now and whilst Hamlet was good, their version of The Tempest was great.
The thrust stage at the Courtyard theatre was transformed into a dry, dusty African island. In a set reminiscent of The Lion King the stage was sand-grey, strewn with rocks, sand and sawdust. Steep steps led to a plateau at the back of the stage forming both Prospero’s study and Caliban’s cave. Fibrous, orange trees flanked the back wall.
Into this warm, colourful environment came four musicians who would play music throughout the performance. Then with a flourish of authentic African accompaniment we were ushered into the Tempest. The cast dressed as animals and spirits took to the stage leaping around to the beat of the drum as a huge skilfully manipulated serpent entered. This serpent became the storm, which Prospero used to destroy the ship. Coloured cloth, suspended from the ceiling was lowered and became waves sweeping across the stage. It was an opening that encapsulated the fierce, vibrant energy and colour that characterised this production.
Both Prospero and Miranda were dressed in the colour scheme of the set making them a part of the place. In comparison, the invaders Alonso, Sebastian and Antonio were dressed in immaculate white suits adorned with symbols of their power. As the play progressed and they became increasingly desperate the symbols of their status were eventually discarded until they were left as dirty and ragged as Miranda and Prospero.
The use of puppetry in this production was key to Janice Honeyman’s reclaimation of the play. Honeyman drew heavily from African mythology. The masque was transformed into a voodoo ceremony raising tall, colourful spirits from the dead to celebrate Miranda and Ferdinand’s wedding. The puppets appealed to the entire demographic, enchanting the younger members of the audience and thrilling the older members; holding the entire audience spellbound.
The beautiful aesthetic was ably supported by the strong performances of the cast. Anthony Sher led the cast and it was his performance that rooted the piece. Sher’s Prospero was a strong, powerful, heavily bearded man, fully in control the island. At times he dressed like a magician, at times like a coloniser, complete with straw hat and whip. He was both a creator of the island and its product.
Sher’s fiery Prospero was in stark contrast to John Kani’s dignified Caliban. Kani’s Caliban was no vile, fish-like monster; he was dignified, elderly black man who had to rely on two sticks in order to walk. Caliban was completely enslaved by Prospero. Honeyman has created a play driven by the tension between coloniser and colonised. The servants in this play were black whilst their overlords were white. A black Gonzalo and Adrian served Alonso and Antonio; black seamen captained the ship; a black Ariel served Prospero. Honeyman’s reclaimation of the play has pulled the racism of the play to the fore. Sections of the text were translated into the African dialects of Swahili and Zulu to make the piece speak in a deliberately African way.
Atandwa Kani’s Ariel was a potent symbol of the African culture Prospero was making use of. Wearing nothing but a loincloth and liberally daubed with white paint he appeared as a Zulu warrior. Possessing a fine singing voice and powerful physicality, Atandwa led the actors in the many tribal songs and dances of the piece bringing a frenetic energy to the production.
Tinarie Van Wyk Loots brought an interesting spin to Miranda. This was a character that was a part of the island; who had become almost bestial. When she first entered the stage she hopped and crawled like a monkey, dressed in rags, it was only when she met Ferdinand that she started walk upright, to imitate him. In a particularly touching scene they clung together, cleaning each other like monkeys.
Charlie Keegan made for an interesting Ferdinand, though he may have been cast because of the size of his muscles.
Both Antonio and Sebastian were suitably evil. Upon discovering that Ferdinand was alive, Nicholas Pauling’s Sebastian delivered the line ‘A most high miracle’ incredibly sarcastically, drawing gales of laughter from the audience.
Trinculo and Stephano were energetic and funny. Honeyman transformed even the meanest song in the play into a full-blown musical number. Therefore Trinculo and Stephano’s mumbled drunken song became a full evocation of the problems of sobriety, complete with four part instrumental backing.
This was a lively, energetic and colourful production. One punctuated with music, colour and dance. This was a production that celebrated African culture; that discussed the tension between white and black society. Coupled with a series of masterful performances this was one of the most interesting and enjoyable evenings I have spent at the theatre.

Twelfth Night at The Wyndhams Theatre

2009-10-11T17:52:00.001-07:00

It was clear that Michael Grandage needed a popular play in order to follow up the success of the Donmar’s production of Ivanov that played earlier in the season. He chose Twelfth Night and then decided to cast Derek Jacobi as Malvolio, one of the most memorable comic characters in any of the Shakespeare’s plays. This was surely a production that promised much.
The production opened well; a bright thunderclap splitting the stage, as Mark Bonmar’s Orsino threw himself from the wings, roaring the famous ‘If music be the food of love, play on!’ speech at the audience, battling to be heard over the storm. Christopher Oram’s set was beautiful. A mottled, earthy-coloured floor giving the impression of rural majesty was constructed out of roughly hewn boards, which protruded over the rim of the stage toward the audience. The stage was framed by rough, wooden-slatted flats, which let in slants of sun and moonlight, creating a warm homely Mediterranean aesthetic. This was an atmosphere of fruitfulness and gaiety, the perfect setting for a play where the characters do little more than play games and flirt with each other. The flats were pulled up to reveal a cold, wind-swept beach. Victoria Hamilton’s shipwrecked Viola entered looking like a drowned mermaid, green dress and red hair plastered to her skin. This space was incompletely delineated, the backdrop consisting of a thick bank of fog that made it feel transient and impermanent.
Oram crafted a simplistic set where scene changes are suggested by the meanest of props, a sofa for a sitting room, and a windbreak for a beach. Malvolio’s prison became a trap door, which the other characters were free to stomp (and in the case of Feste, cartwheel) over, literally symbolising how far he had fallen.
We next met the absurdly drunken Sir Toby Belch played by the excellent Ron Cook, who staggers onstage tuxedo askew, streamers decking his hair. Along with Guy Henry’s ridiculously tall Sir Andrew he created a brilliantly funny double act, where neither character seemed to be aware of the physical differences in stature between them.
Zubin Varla was mesmerising as Feste. Launching himself onto the stage decked in a cloak the same colours as the set; he seemed at once to be a part of the stage at the same time as seeming to occupy a space outside of it. This was a Mediterranean Feste, a creature of mirth and jollity, never without his guitar. His song about love ‘Tis not hereafter’ performed perched on a battered sofa, framed by the two dilapidated knights created a striking image of the impermanency of love. You got a real sense of the sadness these characters felt beneath their fooling, especially when Sir Andrew whispered mournfully ‘I was loved once too’. These were characters of great depth. Cook’s Sir Toby hinted at a darker viciousness with the glee he showed at the thought of hurting Malvolio. Only Maria the maid, played by Samantha Spiro could save him. Normally an overlooked character, Spiro brought a depth and warmth to the character I had not seen before.
Of course the big draw was Derek Jacobi’s Malvolio. He made a dramatic entrance as he strode onto the stage, immaculately dressed and stiff backed. Drawing out the sounds of his opening line into a self-righteous purr that showed he considered himself above many of the other characters on stage. The flawlessness of Jacobi’s attire was in stark contrast to Sir Toby’s unkempt appearance. The audience had no cause to worry as Jacobi was on excellent form.
This was a world of steamy passion, where love and sex is at the forefront of many of the characters minds. When a wet Sebastian skipped onto the stage to be towelled dry by his companion Antonio, their intimacy hinted at a relationship deeper than mere friendship. Indira Varma portrayed Olivia as a more sexually charged character than I had seen previously. Her excitement at the prospect of there possibly being two Sebastian’s drew gales of laughter from the audience.
This was a production that never lacked energy and kept the audience rapt for the entire three hours. Unfortunately the romantic scenes were not nearly as entertaining as the comic ones. It was a blessing that the pace was so swift and fluid as it meant that the audience were quickly distracted from the inadequacies of lover’s scenes by the hilarity of the comic ones. I would have liked to see the relationship between Orsino and Viola, and Viola and Olivia explored further. Strangely, Hamilton’s Viola seemed uncomfortable when dressed as Cesario, seeming to be too womanish to be able to actually disguise herself as a man.
All in all, an evening of fine entertainment, a play that delivered jokes at breakneck speed that left me with a smile that lasted the whole train journey back home.

Romeo and Juliet at The Courtyard Theatre

2009-10-11T17:49:00.000-07:00

Featuring a company of 23 actors and a seven-piece live band on stage, this new staging of Shakespeare’s fast-moving story of two teenagers torn apart by their families’ vendetta, reunites director Neil Bartlett and designer Kandis Cook, the creative team behind the 2007 sell-out Stratford-upon-Avon production of Twelfth Night.
The play opened well. Upon entering the auditorium the audience were confronted by a nineteen fifties Mafiosa aesthetic. A small band slowly entered the space, taking up their seats in front of a dominating back wall of black stone. They were dressed in black and white, hats pulled low over their eyes and their stillness filled the theatre with a sense of nervous expectation. After the whole troupe had assembled they leapt to their feet, launching into music as the cast entered the space. Bartlett dispensed with the traditional single person chorus at the start, instead choosing to have the whole company recite the famous prologue speech, which sums up the forthcoming action of the play; presenting the audience with the image of a community torn apart by death.
Bartlett wants to emphasise the brutality of the world Romeo and Juliet have grown up in. Costume-wise, he succeeded. The characters were dressed in the style of 1950’s Italy; sharp, dark suits and white shirts for the men, satin slips and pulled-in waists for the women. At the start, when the rival houses meet face to face, his choices seemed convincing. The characters of Capulet and Montague take to the stage, performing a highly stylised fight scene. Bartlett dispensed with swords, choosing to use flick knives instead. Whilst this is not particularly original it fitted nicely with the Mafia aesthetic. In the opening scene Bartlett created a mood of civilised menace on stage. Sadly what seemed to be a radical new imagining, soon settled into a succession of scenes drained of the passion and variety the opening scene promised.
At the start of the production the pace was speedy, with very few props and minimal scene changes to disrupt the action. The economy of the set was ably supported by Bruno Poet, whose lighting design changed the mood and setting on the stage smoothly. Neil Bartlett used some self-consciously dramatic techniques in order to spice up the production. Characters stepped out of the physical action to deliver dialogue to the audience whilst the rest of the cast froze behind them. This was obviously intended to create a sense of isolation on stage. Bartlett also had his actors being able to control scene changes with a mere click of their fingers. This may have been intended to demonstrate the power that certain characters wield, however when you have every character on stage doing this, the device loses its potency. These devices were obviously meant to entertain the audience and increase the pace of the production; unfortunately they did the exact opposite, slowing the pace of the play, which could not maintain enough excitement throughout to justify its three-and-a-quarter hour running time.
The acting did little to relieve the boredom. Owain Arthur’s Peter was incredibly misjudged; his reaction to Juliet’s faked death bordered on pantomime. David Dawson as Romeo was better, but he had none of the youthful passion the character requires; he was too withdrawn and not nearly charismatic enough to convince as the daring love-struck hero. He was more convincing however, than Anneika Rose as Juliet. Whilst she was a last minute replacement for Laura Rees, her acting range never strayed from plaintive and girlish flirtation into any deeper emotion. The two leads never seemed to embody the passion the parts require. The removal of the famous balcony scene had them on stage together, whilst she hugged a pillow and he looked into the middle-distance. This served to unite them physically but distance them emotionally, the exact opposite of how the balcony scene normally works. This confusing image highlights the fact that this is a play trying to be creative at the expense of entertainment and the text.
I have an issue with the RSC’s ‘colour-blind’ approach to casting. I have no problem with a black Juliet, but when it is a black Juliet with two white parents the family relationship seems ridiculous. This is a play driven by the themes of ‘family’ and ‘unity’. But these were completely undermined by the choice of casting. By casting actors regardless of their skin colour it actually draws more attention to their race.
This was in my opinion a lazy production. It is the kind of educative theatre that puts young people off Shakespeare rather than turning them onto it. An incomplete aesthetic and some pointless theatrical devices did nothing to liven it. Poor acting and editing meant this was production that dragged on, and I felt a sense of relief during the death scene rather than sympathy, as it indicated the play was almost over.

The Brothers Size at the Birmingham Repertory Theatre.

2009-10-11T08:58:00.000-07:00

On Wednesday night I was lucky enough to witness a production of Tarrell McCraney’s latest play The Brothers Size at The Birmingham Rep. I knew little of McCraney’s work prior to this performance , excepting that he had recently won the Evening Standard’s Most Promising Playwright award for two of his plays. I didn’t know what to expect.
The play centres on the two titular brothers: Ogun Size, a hardworking mechanic and Ohoosi Size, his younger brother recently released from prison. The only other character in the play is Elegba, Ohoosi’s friend from prison. The play is primarily concerned with freedom and imprisonment. Ohoosi is trapped literally by his probation and metaphorically by his bond with his brother. Elegba, the character of temptation finds his fate trapped by his attraction to Ohoosi and Ogun is trapped into keeping his errant younger brother in line. Ohoosi’s main motivation is for a car which will grant him his freedom, and it is Elegba who provides him with this. Yet this is a destructive attachment; Elegba it seems longs for the closeness he and Ohoosi shared in prison and the car is part of a plot to make Ohoosi break his probation. When Ohoosi is arrested for possession of cocaine it is Ogun who makes the painful decision to let his brother go in order to preserve his freedom.
The play opened well. The three actors took to the stage and began a rhythmic chant. One drew a large chalk circle on the stage which formed the performance space. Red chalk was thrown into this space symbolising the red Louisiana earth. As the actors performed often physically pushing and pulling each other around the space, this chalk coloured them, inextricably linking them to their heritage; something else they couldn’t escape.
McCraney has created a rich, rhythmic Louisianan dialogue which though initially difficult to understand soon became pleasing to the ear. This was a dialogue that perfectly fitted with the rhythmic beat of the actor’s steps around the space. Here the actor's abilities came into their own. Their accents were flawless, their performances beautifully measured. When at the emotional climax of the play Ohoosi realizes he has to leave his brother his performance drew sobs from the rapt audience. Particularly good was Anthony Welsh as Elegba; a threat to the stability of the Size household. His performance was particularly impressive if you consider that this was his first role since leaving drama school.
Though my poor description of the play may make it sound relentlessly bleak is was punctuated with moments of hilarity. The bickering between the two brothers was painfully well realised and drew gales of laughter from the crowd. Yet, for me the highlight of the play was the brother’s rendition of Try A Little Tenderness by Otis Reading. This was a set piece that perfectly captured the strong bond they shared.
This is a play that celebrates brotherhood. It was a pleasure to watch and McCraney’s awards and subsequent acclaim are well deserved. I look forward with anticipation to his future work.

Love's Labour's Lost at The Courtyard Theatre.

2009-10-11T08:55:00.000-07:00

I was initially unsure of this production. I was not a massive fan of the play when I read it, feeling alienated by the overly poetic language. But having been impressed by the same company when I saw them perform Hamlet, I was content to relax and see what they could do with the text. This comedy is of course as far from Hamlet as it is possible to get; it’s full of filthy puns, overly complicated language and some very bad jokes, so I was interested to see how the company, in particular Tennant would cope with the change in style. I had no need to worry. Tennant did a fantastic job in quite an unforgiving role. He continually jested with the audience, patrolling up and down the stage dishing out the lines at a tremendous pace. At one point he tried to throw his hat onto to a branch, but missed it and shrugged apologetically to the crowd drawing gales of laughter from the appreciative crowd. Tennant worked the audience like a comedian revelling in the attention he received, and his informality made the audience deeply sympathetic to his plight. During his soliloquy upon the nature of love every word could be heard.
Tennant was ably supported by a talented and versatile cast, all of whom did full justice to the text. Notable performances include Oliver Ford Davies as the lecherous Holofernes (though I did feel that he at times he replayed the role of Polonius he created for Hamlet) and Joe Dixon as the charismatic Duke de Armando.
Upon entering the auditorium the audience are confronted by a scene of leisurely idleness. Berowne, Loungeville, and Dumaine loll about on a stage transformed into a forest. A large tree dominates the stage, effectively splitting it in two halves, whilst coloured plastic leaves hung suspended from the ceiling. All these combine to create an image both natural and idyllic but also somehow artificial, that perfectly captures the feel of the play. This relaxed state is then suddenly interrupted by the arrival of the king of Navarre proclaiming a new moral order; the men are to devote the next three years to study forgoing all female contact and so the play begins.
The characters were dressed in Elizabethan costume yet talked the text in a very modern style which further highlighted the heightened conflict of naturalism and artificiality. As there were no scene changes and all the scenes took place in the same mystical forest glade the audience were unsure which period these characters lived which served to mark out the space as more of an unreal environment, separate from the modern world where lovers can flirt and court rather than a place where they have to actually face up to the realities of life. Sadly this idyllic environment was not unassailable and as a messenger entered bringing the news that the King of France is dead the space became claustrophobic and the characters were forced into real world.
I did have some major problems with the production. I’m very open to musical interpretation in Shakespeare; I enjoyed for example Dumaine’s love song which took place during one of the most touching scenes in the play where the lords spy on each other, each revealing his love for one of the princesses. Yet, I think Doran took it to far with Costard’s rap! This speech normally presented as a monologue on the nature of love became a rap accompanied by the various chirps and whistles of the forest creatures forming an impromptu chorus. It was to be fair, quite funny and well performed but I felt that it was far too contrived.
I also felt the costumes worn by the actors putting on the production of the Nine Worthies to be too garish. The second half of the play is a much more sombre affair, and I felt the approach to the Nine Worthies was misjudged. I was also genuinely annoyed by the way Tennant played up to the chorus of fourteen year old girls who giggled at his every word but perhaps I’m just being jealous!
All in all an enjoyable and entertaining piece of theatre. Doran had an interesting vision and he executed it adeptly with a talented and for the most part unknown cast. It’s a pity this play is performed so little as it clearly has great potential to be a crowd pleaser. Doran has obviously tried to wring every last pounce of humour out of the play which meant it was enjoyable to watch but it did leave you with the impression that this was at the sacrifice of some of the more serious scenes.