Author: Vulture

Vulture https://londonculturevulture.wordpress.com I'm a Canadian who has lived in London for over 10 years. I try to soak up as much of the culture here as I can.

2024 So Far

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The Human Body (Donmar): Oof. First half OK, if overlong (there were some departures around us following the interval), a bit derivative, both of Brief Encounter and of Jamie Lloyd’s cameras. Saved by Keeley Hawes’ exquisite face and acting. I’m afraid it went completely off the rails in the second half, when the war hero husband Turned into a monster. There might have been some subtleties in that scene that we missed, as we were completely unable to see any of the action, so I’m afraid I’m going to have to go on what we heard. Then there was a second scene just to reinforce it (this one was a little more plausible). Then there were some attempted parallels between the birth of the health service and her personal life, which I’m afraid I didn’t understand at all. It was just so long, and I’m afraid I didn’t feel the chemistry between Hawes and Davenport at all. Two stars, all for the acting, which I can’t fault. But the play was awful. And it made me feel very capitalist at the end (Team Dior), which I can’t imagine was the intended result.

Till the Stars Come Down (NT): I really loved this. A bit melodramatic but so well written and acted, and the plot twists really worked (why are adolescents the way that they are?) There was a school group in this evening and I’m not sure they were ready for the material, but they were engrossed and generally well behaved (apart from a few shrieks at the plot twists) and one lad raised his fists in the air in triumph when a particularly significant plot twist landed. It is always nice to see young people falling in love with theatre.

Plaza Suite (WE): I had few expectations about this but it was exactly what it said on the tin. Very Broadway, dated in the sense that a lot of posh public spaces in New York (or at least, Manhattan) are dated (Plaza, Pierre, dare I say it St Regis, most museums, madison square garden, grand central etc etc). But it was kind of reassuringly expensive, in the way of SJP’s Henri Bendel shopping bag in the first act. I thought they were both utter pros and worth the price of admission (which was whatever I paid for it when this first went on sale, under £100).

MJ the Musical (WE): Wow wow wow, what a show. 4 stars for the show (they leave you wanting more after the first act, although there were amazing moments (I do agree there was a lot of talk about budgets)) and a fifth for Myles Frost, who was just phenomenal. His singing, dancing, body language, everything! How can someone born in 1999 manage to do that. All the cast was great (little Michael was amazing!) with particular praise for Ashley Zhangazha, who made it utterly clear through body language and voice whether he was portraying Joe or Rob and switched effortlessly, and Mitchell Zhangazha, who has such a tough role as young adult Michael, and does it stunningly. Thriller was jaw-dropping, and this might sound odd, but it had the menacing energy I wanted to get from Moulin Rouge and didn’t. What a brilliant production. I booked again for May. In terms of seats, there are side seats in the front stalls at £20 less than the rest of the front stalls, which as an aisle seat devotee I think are a bargain. (Oh, and if I’m going to nitpick, US accents were great all through, except “Newark” is pronounced “noo-ark” (or “noark” if you’re really from there), not “nyoo-ark”. And I don’t think most of the audience knew who Don King was. But that’s ok).

Alma Mater (Almeida): Rupert Goold gave a kind of introduction explaining the situation and asked for kindness. Justine Mitchell was using a script which was a bit distracting but generally ok, she is a wonderful actor and will be great in the part. The acting was generally very good. My issue is more with the play itself. It may be that I particularly think it’s flawed as I work in academia, and a similar situation would never occur as it is set out in the play. Essentially the play itself deals well with issues like the feminist generation gap (although it doesn’t touch trans, which is what seems to me to be the main feminist issue dividing the generations). But I just couldn’t help constantly thinking that particular events would never happen in reality.

A first year student is sexually assaulted and is befriended by two other university students, a strident woman third year who has her own reasons for wanting publicity, and a male third year who likes her a lot but has no idea about romance. Then there’s Justine Mitchell’s Master of the College, who is a tough former journalist coming back to the college, where she was a student. She doesn’t like social media and thinks young women should worry about real concerns (like her friend who was raped and murdered at the college in the 80s). Her cohort include a male professor friend who is the chair of the board and his wife, another professor. They were all at uni together.

The levels of unreality are several – first, students and lecturers may have been buddy-buddy as is set out in the play in the 1980s, but that does not happen now. The way Justine Mitchell’s character speaks to the students (one in particular) is incredibly unrealistic. Parents of students get involved and are spoken to without any regard for confidentiality (hello, GDPR). People who have very close personal relationships take decisions about employment without recusing themselves. And there would have been many, many threats of lawsuits a lot earlier on in the process, the way this is set out. I haven’t even really explained the meat of the play, which as I mentioned deals with the generation gap amongst feminists with respect to sexual assault, social media etc. That part is ok, if completely unrealistic in terms of what would actually happen when “rapists” are named online.

2023

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Sweeney Todd (Bway): Really enjoyed this when I saw it last week, fab evening. Groban’s voice was stunning and his acting v good. Not as threatening as my ideal Sweeney but thoroughly enjoyed it. Annaleigh Ashford did fine (apart from the accent), good comic timing, but for me, the Tony should go to Micaela Diamond who was utterly stunning in Parade. (I quite liked Ben Platt too but would prefer to see Groban take it this time around).

The Motive and the Cue (NT): I enjoyed this very much and thought that Mark Gattis and Johnny Flynn were both excellent. I’m afraid I agree that Tuppence Middleton was miscast – I’ll have to see it again when it transfers to Broadway and they cast someone else in the Elizabeth Taylor role. Liz had a beautiful speaking voice, much less nasal than what Middleton is doing here.

Patriots (Almeida): Really enjoyed this, beautifully written with excellent performances from Will Keen and Luke Thallon, and Tom Hollander with a really outstanding performance. A couple of minor quibbles – there is no Nobel prize in Mathematics, and they had the judge wearing a barrister’s wig (why do they always do this?) I do understand that we shouldn’t boo excellent actors providing superlative performances, and of course I didn’t, but it did feel very odd to be applauding “Putin.”

Dear England (NT): Really enjoyed this. Joseph Fiennes and Gina McKee were both excellent (Fiennes has Southgate’s voice and mannerisms down to a tee). The staging is excellent. It’s very much of the moment (in some ways it reminded me of the Great Britain play with Billie Piper) and is in some ways a play for people who don’t go to plays (to the point that the three act structure is explained, albeit in the context of tournaments). But Graham uses every tool in his arsenal to make it work. The music is a particular highlight, with Fabio Capello’s music a laugh out loud moment. Some of the laughs don’t quite land but it is very funny overall. And it plays on every England football fan’s emotions very skilfully. The three hours flew by, for me. By the time it opens it will be very tight.

Vanya (WE): Four stars from me. His performance was stupendous, and I absolutely recommend it. (If you’re not v familiar with the story, do bone up in advance). I thought certain characters worked extremely well (Azov, Sonia, and, erm, Maureen and Liam) and others less well. I’m not sure if it’s a commentary on the weakness of Helena/Yelena as a Chekhov character or this production that I thought that she pretty much boiled down to “hot girl” without much nuance. Ivan/Vanya was also lacking in subtlety until second act at least if not the end, I thought; until then, it was difficult to feel his pathos. Andrew Scott was phenomenal, but I did miss the interactions between actors, especially when everything was going quickly. And I’m afraid any kind of “physical contact” didn’t really work for me, except at the end. But it was a really interesting experiment and an acting tour de force, and I’m v glad I saw it.

Next to Normal (Donmar): I thought this was very moving. Graham Norton was in the house, which caused something of a buzz. Caissie Levy was phenomenal, I thought as strong an actor as a singer. Jamie Parker’s acting was stupendous, except for his American accent which was sometimes weirdly twangy, and I remember his NY accent in Guys and Dolls years ago being much stronger. Lucy Munden was in as Natalie and was great on all counts. For me, though, Jack Wolfe was the highlight, what a voice, what a star!

Macbeth (Donmar): Still thinking about this. The headphones both added and detracted. Added in the sense that the actors could really whisper and could use literally all of the tones in their arsenal, which were not inconsiderable (DT’s beautiful diction was amazing, his pronunciation of “rhubarb” was worth the price of admission on its own, and Cush Jumbo was stellar). Detracted in the sense that the actors were there, and acting, and we could see them, but the immediacy of live theatre was taken away a bit, for me. I tried taking my headphones off at one point (the beginning of “act 2” has some potential audience participation for those in the front row, be warned (I think you can decline by not making eye contact)) but there was too much going on to really do that for very long. The headphones worked beautifully with the witches, though. Overall I enjoyed it very much, there was some really superb acting.

Top 5 of 2023:

Top 5, no particular order: Sunset Boulevard, Old Friends, Next to Normal, Streetcar, Standing at the Sky’s Edge. (In New York I loved Merrily, Parade and Purlie, quite liked Sweeney and Here We Are).
Honourable mention: Macbeth (Donmar), Dear England, Shirley Valentine, A Little Life, The Motive and the Cue, Crazy for You, A Mirror, La Cage, Patriots, House of Bernarda Alba, Sylvia. (ETA that I suppose I should put Vanya in here, although the fact that I didn’t remember it initially is probably indicative of something). I genuinely think it’s been a great year for theatre.

2022

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Oklahoma (Young Vic): I enjoyed it very much, although I agree it was not as transcendent as in New York. The highlight for me was Marisha Wallace, who was stunning. As I recall (it’s been a while) the indigenous people of Oklahoma played more of a role in the NY production than this one. I understand why they didn’t here, but subtleties were lost. But overall a brilliant reimagining and appropriate, at this particular moment for the US. The likes of Laurey and Ado Annie will have many fewer choices, going forward.

Top 5 of 2022: Best (of new to me, otherwise Jerusalem would have made an appearance):
Prima Facie
Tammy Faye
Operation Mincemeat
Blues for an Alabama Sky
The Band’s Visit

Honourable mention: 
The choir of man
Othello
Jack absolute flies again
Best of enemies
Cabaret
Oklahoma
Cock
Six @ Hampton court palace was v cool

Worst:
Hex (again)
To kill a mockingbird (sorry, the accents did it in for me)

ETA the just boring: The Crucible, The Father and the Assassin, Who Killed My Father

2019/20

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When we have sufficiently tortured each other (NT): I never thought I would be pleased to hear Kesha’s Tik Tok along with the other mindless pop used, but it came as a blessed relief from the dialogue that had gone before. Blanchett is amazing, but I thought the material was poor and repetitive (and not remotely shocking). My friend, however, loved it. He said that the set seemed to be designed to look like pr0n, which does make sense, given the garage setting and the cheap-looking costumes (other than the corsets) and deliberately ill-fitting wigs. He also compared it to industrial music, where it sounds harsh and seemingly the same all the time, but there are subtle changes going on that your subconscious mind registers. That was all too deep for me, and I just couldn’t stand any of the dialogue between Blanchett and Dillane. I did love Jessica Gunning and thought that her scene with Blanchett was by far the best thing in the play.

Waitress (WE): I went in knowing nothing about it other than that it was a successful musical that I had skipped every time I go to New York because there’s always something else I’d prefer to see. And I’m afraid I was very happy with that decision. The score was lovely, the songs were excellent and the singing generally also excellent (except for Jack McBrayer). But I hated the book (that poor woman resident who dared to take a residency somewhere other than Connecticut, dragging her poor husband along with her and throwing him head-first into cheating on her) and I thought that Katharine McPhee had much better chemistry with Marisha Wallace than she did with David Hunter (although the whole Jim Halpert does adultery storyline left me cold from the beginning). And I don’t have any children myself, but I thought I could feign interest in a doll better than Katharine McPhee did. (The less said about Jack McBrayer the better). Even though I am North American, this was much too American for me.

Come From Away (WE): It was really wonderful, and the accents better than the original cast (except for Petrina Bromley, of course). A tiny bit too Irish, but generally very good. Jenna Boyd wins the accent crown for me, she was just perfect at everything she attempted. I thought Rachel Tucker sounded wonderful (and her Annette was particularly good and particularly funny) but I do prefer Me and the Sky in the original key. The one thing I would say is that I think there is a bit of a tendency to rush and not to let the lines land. Clive Carter and Nathanael Campbell were particularly good at not doing that, and they got the most laughs, along with Jonathan Andrew Hume. I think at this stage, a lot of the audience will know the show and won’t particularly laugh at the funny lines, but the new people will need a moment to digest. But these are very small quibbles, it was so so good and I do think people are going to love it. I also think I spotted Rabbi Sudak standing at the side of the stalls as I was exiting, he must have been back stage. (That article from the JC was great, but all I could think was where on earth they would have found Manischewitz in Gander in 2001 – the bottles must have been sitting in the NLC shop for 20 years.) What a lovely show, and a lovely production.

[Blank] (Donmar): I appreciated it overall, but I did note the passage of time. The scene near the end was devastating, but didn’t feel particularly earned. I thought of news stories I had read with similar outcomes whilst listening . I enjoyed the dinner party scene more than I probably should have as a paid up member of the middle classes, but it felt like over-egging the pudding in a number of ways. Treating the deliveroo wine delivery person noticeably worse than the actual drug dealer made little sense, especially since they accused the former of dealing drugs and welcomed the latter in a frankly unrealistic way, even given the tenor of the conversation. And I appreciate that Mum didn’t want to miss anything, but you wouldn’t hesitate to go and see if your child had been pissed on, if only to keep up appearances.

Moulin Rouge (Bway): I thought this was visually amazing, gorgeous dancing and singing, and the costumes and sets were stunning, but it moved me not a jot. It was worth it for Danny Burstein, god bless him, but I could have taken or left the rest of it. Other than Danny (and Sahr Ngaujah and Tam Mutu, who were fab) it felt very paint by numbers. I had such high hopes sitting down, with the beautiful cast unsmiling, striding about and casting a menacing presence. But that dissipated immediately in favour of an aerobicised and clinical approach, which was decidedly lacking in sex appeal, for me. The only moments I began to feel something were the songs from the film – all of the rest just felt like very high grade karaoke. For me, there was much more passion in Virtue and Moir’s Moulin Rouge ice dancing programme from the most recent Winter Olympics. I was gobsmacked to hear people sobbing near the end and wanted to tell them to get to their nearest opera house and see La Boheme and/or Carmen, which do this much, much better.

& Juliet (WE): Well I just loved this. It’s obviously lower budget than Moulin Rouge (which I saw last week) but this had oodles of feeling and was beautifully performed and I enjoyed it more. I felt that the songs were used to great effect and I didn’t have the feeling that trying to spot them took me out of the show, which I had had last week. I loved all the cast, who were clearly having a ball. I think it’s just what we need in these times and could have something of the same effect that Mamma Mia did.

Pretty Woman (WE): I’m enjoying it more than I thought I would – the cast are charming, the singing is lovely as is the dancing. The songs are forgettable but adequate. But honestly, I paid £82.50 for my stalls ticket and the costumes are actually offending me. I could get better ‘80s-influenced dresses anywhere on the high street – Phase Eight, LK Bennett, even M&S.

City of Angels (WE): I’ve never seen this before and thought that Fraser, Craig and the other usual MT suspects were fine, but that Rebecca Trehearne was the true standout, amazing. It felt like there was a lot of filler in the first act, most of the men (other than Fraser) could act but not sing particularly well and I didn’t relish any of their songs. Agree that the tennis song was particularly uncomfortable. I also hated Stine’s character (although not as much as Fidler’s). I thought that I was being asked to choose between Harvey Weinstein and Aaron Sorkin and frankly, I reject them both. Team Donna and Bobbi.

Little Wars (online): Oh, I have missed this. A play, a new (to me) play, to watch and to which to react and with such great actors “interacting” with each other. Monologues are good (in many cases, great) but this was different. The acting was uniformly superb. The use of Zoom was innovative and clever. The play…had issues. In many ways I wish the playwright hadn’t used the names of real people, because so much of this depended on suspension of disbelief that just wasn’t possible. I’m sure some of the details with respect to Stein and Toklas were inaccurate, but I don’t know as much about their lives as the others. But Lillian Hellman was no innocent in June 1940, she was a communist sympathiser from years before. Muriel Gardiner may or may not have been the “Julia” of Hellman’s Pentimento, but there is no denying that Gardiner was a very good spy and no spy would have acted in the way the character did in this play. And Agatha Christie was many things (I am a big fan) but she was no friend of the Jewish people, at least not as reflected in any of her books. The historical inaccuracies took me right out of the play. But I was gripped, and recommend it highly.

Some 2018 updates, mostly from theatreboard (I’m eatbigsea)

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Starting in 2018:

Frozen (WE): Let it go was amazing, although I suppose it could have been more visually spectacular. It’s certainly no flying carpet in Aladdin. But Caissie Levy sang and acted the hell out of it, the projections and curtains really did look great and the audience was not at all disappointed, roaring its approval. Generally I enjoyed it, but it does what it says on the tin, it’s a slick Disney production. The acting saved it. Patti Murin as Anna is phenomenal, not the world’s strongest belt but she sells the role incredibly well. Caissie is stupendous, both singing and acting-wise, and she has two big numbers in Let it Go and Monster, but it’s Anna’s story, really. Story-wise, Hans’s motivation for acting as he did was really not explained, but you kind of have to run with it. Act 2 was ok, but the world-building in Act 1 was preferable for me. 

Heathers (Other Palace): I thought it was great fun, and much better than Mean Girls. I felt very old and North American as I was the only one laughing at a number of the jokes, which are highly specific to time and place. Carrie Hope Fletcher was fantastic from start to finish, great acting, singing, everything. Jamie Muscato was very good, but needs to work on the American accent a bit. I thought Jenny O’Leary was outstanding as Martha, and made the most of her big number. 

Company (WE): I adored it from start to finish. It was extraordinarily polished for a first preview (rogue bench and drifting balloons notwithstanding) and I think it is going to be an enormous hit. I loved the gender-switching, and I have to think more about that. Patti was Patti (to the point of glaring at my area of the stalls because we dared to laugh at the pre-written jokes about Chicago (it’s Chicago for god’s sake, try not to let the meat jokes hit you on your way out) but she was very good for all that. As was Rosalie Craig. But the star of the show for me was Jonathan Bailey, whose big number was perfect and perfectly performed (especially for a first preview).

A Very Very Very Dark Matter (Bridge): Oh dear oh dear oh dear. I’m afraid it reminded me of Tarantino’s Pulp Fiction, but without any verve or energy. I suspect the “Pygmy in a box” is the new “dead n-word storage.” It was controversial in 1994, and tying it superficially to the Belgian Congo in 2018 isn’t going to make it any more palatable. Just because the woman in the box is clever (and might ultimately win, in some hypothetical scenario that doesn’t make any sense) really doesn’t make this acceptable. The scenes in London were marginally preferable, but only because the thing in the cupboard was literally a skeleton and the characters’ interaction was more or less among equals. I see what he was trying to do, but it wasn’t sophisticated or (in my opinion) very intellectually interesting. I may be too North American to get this, but I can pretty much promise that it will never, ever transfer to New York in its current form.

Sweat (Donmar): Oh, i thought this was just phenomenal. I’m really surprised that Oslo beat it to the Tony (although even more pleased that A Doll’s House Part 2 didn’t win, because that would have been an utter travesty) and not surprised at all that it won the Pulitzer. It was a beautifully constructed play, tackling complex American issues of race, class, deindustrialisation and nationalisation. It made me despair for both that country and this one, because I think things are going to get a lot worse before they get better. And the acting was great. Some minor accent wobbles, but overall very good.

The Great Catch-Up Post of 2017

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The list of plays I have seen but not blogged about has been growing. And growing. And growing. And now, I am going to draw a line under it. Here is an update with capsule reviews from the past umpteen months, with apologies and definite plans to do better going forward. Probably.

  • Bug (Soho) – James Norton and Kate Fleetwood were mesmerising in this production of Tracy Letts’s play, where Fleetwood heartbreakingly comes to believe in Norton’s delusions. A very uncomfortable theatre in just about every respect, however.
  • Romeo and Juliet (WE) – Lily James was beautiful, flighty and young, as Juliet, and I was thoroughly convinced that she was in love with Richard Madden’s articulate and passionate Romeo. However, I didn’t necessarily believe the reverse, as the chemistry simply wasn’t there on his side. The production was delightful, however, filled with Italian sunshine and gorgeous costumes.
  • My Mother Said I Never Should (St James’s) – Having never previously seen Maureen Lipman on stage, I was very much looking forward to her performance. I was not disappointed. This exploration of the lives of three generations of Northern working class women was beautifully acted and well staged.
  • Threepenny Opera (NT) – Any production involving Rory Kinnear can’t be all bad. But this was decidedly odd, with his intelligent thug a foil for Rosalie Craig’s cunning good girl. Perhaps it’s Brecht’s fault, but this was a puzzling evening.
  • The Deep Blue Sea (NT) – Helen McCrory’s amazing performance in this Rattigan revival cannot be praised enough. Her transparent, intelligent face reflected complete understanding of her situation, longing, infatuation, and utter despair. Strangely uplifting.
  • Breakfast at Tiffany’s (WE) – Dire. Pixie Lott can sing a little, but can’t act for toffee. The worst accents I have ever heard on a London stage. Didn’t return after the interval.
  • The Spoils (WE) – Jesse Eisenberg’s play was, as the kids say, aight. It struck me as being of a very millennial sensibility, with immature young men and the sighing young women who take care of them. Fairly well acted, with particular praise for Katie Brayben, whose New Jersey accent was subtle and excellent.
  • Harry Potter and the Cursed Child (WE) – Much more effective on the stage than on the page. Excellent acting (Noma Dumezweni, Jamie Parker and Paul Thornley all did a great job as the core trio, as did Sam Clemmett as Albus and Anthony Boyle as Scorpius) and some of the simplest and yet most effective stagecraft I have ever seen made these plays an absolute joy to behold.
  • Richard III (Almeida) – I have been enjoying Ralph Fiennes’ frequent appearances on the London stage of late, but this was absolutely the most effective. I saw echoes of his Amon Goeth and his Lord Voldemort in one of the finest Richard IIIs I have ever seen.
  • Aladdin (WE) – Quite the slickest and Disneyest production I have ever seen in the West End. Still trying to figure out how they managed the flying carpet.
  • Groundhog Day (Old Vic) – I enjoyed this thoroughly and Andy Karl did an excellent job of making me forget about Bill Murray (the only exception being the “I am a God” line, but he’s not superhuman). A delightful adaptation.
  • Guys and Dolls WE) – It was the same production as previously reviewed, but minus Jamie Parker and with the addition of Rebel Wilson as Miss Adelaide. She did a lovely job, charming and with unexpected vulnerability.
  • Our Ladies of Perpetual Succour (NT) – I’m not sure exactly why it’s shocking that teenage girls like to drink, smoke and have sex, but they did so loudly, enthusiastically and Scottishly in this energetic production.
  • The Libertine (WE) – I am still not sure why they revived this play. Dominic Cooper was somewhat one note, and the play itself was dull. I was bored stiff.
  • King Lear (Old Vic) – Glenda Jackson made an absolutely stonking return to the stage. She was in clear, stunning voice and brought pathos I had never seen before. A triumph.
  • Natasha, Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812 (B’way) – It turns out that when you take the “war” out of War and Peace, what you’re left with is really rather trite. Josh Groban and Denée Benton were terrific, however.
  • School of Rock (WE) – A light as air musical providing a delightful evening of escapism. The children were absolutely terrific.
  • Nice Fish (WE) – Mark Rylance is incapable of giving a bad performance, but this was a trifle. An enjoyable, disposable evening.
  • Come From Away (Toronto) – I adored it from start to finish. A fabulous ensemble cast, tight production and a story (stranded passengers taken in by a small town in Newfoundland after 9/11) to make you believe in humanity again. Needed now more than ever.
  • Rent (WE) – It has held up well generally, but I felt so OLD. One for the young people, I think.
  • Dreamgirls (WE) – A slick, enjoyable production. Amber Riley sang beautifully.
  • Art (Old Vic) – I certainly didn’t think the play was a masterpiece (it hasn’t aged all that well) but Rufus Sewell, Paul Ritter and Tim Key were fantastic and had amazing chemistry.
  • The Tempest (RSC Stratford) – Simon Russell Beale was his usual marvellous self. The production was innovative in the best way, and the projections were stunning.
  • Amadeus (NT) – An intense evening, somewhat over-acted. As ever, the music was the best part.
  • Hedda Gabler (NT) – Ruth Wilson was head and shoulders above the rest of the cast. I’m not fond of modern Heddas (I want to say “get a job”) but she was excellent.
  • Sex with Strangers (Hampstead) – The play was middling, but Theo James was really rather good (and very handsome). Emilia Fox was inexplicably bad, with a very poor American accent.
  • Much Ado About Nothing (RSC London) – Charming WWI-era production, with top-notch acting and gorgeous sets.
  • Jonas Kaufmann (Barbican) – Not in absolutely top voice, but his technique and feeling made up for it.
  • Twelfth Night (NT) – Gloriously sharp gender-fluid production. Tamsin Greig was a joy to watch.

The (Mediocre to Outright) Bad

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The Mother (Tricycle)

It may seem odd for me to include this in the “bad” portion of the catch-up post since I raved about Florian Zeller’s The Father, but this predecessor, written four years before The Father, was an inferior work in every way. The structure was similar to The Father, with Gina McKee’s titular Mother unsure about the reality of her relationships with her husband and her son, but where the structure added depth and poignancy to The Father, it felt reductive, sad and somewhat sexist here. Gina McKee gave an incredible performance as Anne and there was good support from Richard Clothier’s possibly cheating husband Peter, William Postlethwaite’s charming but feckless son Nicholas, and Frances McNamee as his girlfriend Elodie. Not awful, but certainly not rising to the dizzy heights of The Father.

Iphigenia in Splott (NT)

Forgive me, for I am about to get both spoilery and political. If you do not want to know the ending of this play, look away now. The classical scholars among you will be saying that you already know the end of the play, as Iphigenia was, of course, sacrificed by her father Agamemnon. This Iphigenia, known as Effie, is “sacrificed” as well, on the altar of austerity and cuts. This 75-minute monologue, blisteringly performed by Sophie Melville, creates a portrait of a self-described “slag” and “skank,” who drinks her way through her days, until she meets and falls fathoms deep in love with Lee, an Army vet who has returned from Afghanistan minus one leg. The first 70 minutes of the play were spellbinding, with Melville giving an outstanding performance of Gary Owen’s words. The last 5 minutes, however, ruined it, as Owen glibly makes a cheap political point, that it is the likes of Effie who suffer when medical care is subject to cuts. It was, for me, completely ineffective and took away from all that had gone before.

The Maids (WE)

I quite enjoyed Jamie Lloyd’s productions of The Ruling Class and (especially) Richard III last year, but I have come to realise that those were down to the outstanding lead performances of James McAvoy and Martin Freeman. Both Jamie Lloyd productions I have seen this year have been completely unenjoyable. This modern adaptation of Genet’s story of murderous maids and a treacherous mistress was strongly acted, but poor. Uzo Aduba, Zawe Ashton and Laura Carmichael are all actors capable of great subtlety (I’ve seen them) but they were all sadly misused here. Aduba and Ashton played the maids. Aduba’s final speech was powerful, but it would have had infinitely greater impact had she and Ashton not been directed to essentially yell all of their lines in the first half of the play. Carmichael was somewhat one-note, but at least that note, of a flighty, insensitive, utter cow, was entertaining to watch. (And on a shallow note, she looked amazing – goodbye Lady Edith). The play lost all of the religious imagery of the original and became purely a revenge drama. After having seen the subtlety and power of Les Blancs, I’m afraid it seemed very simplistic.  A wasted opportunity.

Hand to God (WE)

It is perhaps harsh of me to put this in the “mediocre” category, as it definitely approached “good” at times. This sock-puppet satire of American religiosity had some very funny moments, but had little effectiveness outside of its Texas context. Here, in secular London, the notion of sticking two fingers up at God through satanism and puppet sex produces a resounding meh. Margery (Janie Dee) is widowed and has sought solace through producing puppet shows at church, in order to help keep her teenaged son Jason (Harry Melling) in line. Jason has a problem, which is that his puppet Tyrone keeps speaking out inappropriately. Both puppet class attendee Timothy (Kevin Mains) and pastor Greg (Neil Pearson) fancy Margery, and her inhibitions fall away, at least with one of them. Jemima Rooper is hysterically funny as teenaged Jessica, and Melling is really wonderful as Jason/Tyrone. But as good as the cast is (generally good US accents throughout, although they fall a good thousand miles short of Texas) it’s a silly and limited play.

Welcome Home, Captain Fox (Donmar)

Again, perhaps unduly harsh to call this mediocre. But if a play is not to be purely comic and aspires to greater meaning, then we should call it out when it fails to achieve that meaning. This intriguing story was based on Jean Anhouilh’s 1937 play and updated by Anthony Weigh to the US in the 1950s. A man without memory (Rory Keenan) called Gene by the authorities and Jack by his “family,” has emerged from a German prison. Katherine Kingsley is very funny as Marcee Dupont-Dufort, a socialite who finds Gene and sees a social-climbing opportunity for her to ingratiate herself with the wealthy Fox clan, led by Sian Thomas’s chilly Mrs Fox and missing son Jack from the war. Fenella Woolgar is also amusing as sister-in-law Valerie, who throws herself at Jack. As Gene discovers more about Jack, he wants less and less to be a part of the family. There are some very funny moments and the cast is very good, but we don’t really learn much about Gene/Jack, and the play hangs together oddly. There is potential here, but it is unrealised.

The End of Longing (WE)

Matthew Perry (you know, the one from Friends) in his West End debut as both actor and playwright. This play is not altogether poorly written. It is sometimes very funny, but is formulaic in its structure and simplistic in its concepts. It is the story of four people: Perry’s Jack, an alcoholic, Stephanie (Jennifer Mudge), a very expensive prostitute, her uptight friend Stevie (Christina Cole) and Jack’s buddy Joseph (Lloyd Owen).  Stevie and Joseph couple up, and Jack and Stephanie attempt to do the same, until his drinking and her day (night?) job get in the way. Equating alcoholism and prostitution is probably the most serious problem with the play, but the relationships between the characters feel strained generally. What rings true, and saves it from being truly dire, is Perry’s intimate understanding of, and personal relationship with, addiction. He gives one very good speech about addiction which is clearly based on personal experience. The other parts are thinly written, but the actors do as good a job as possible of fleshing out the characters, especially Owen. It’s just not good enough for the West End.

Cleansed (NT)

I can’t say I wasn’t warned. The National did a good job of letting us all know that this is Sarah Kane at her very Sarah Kanest. Rape, torture and many forms of mutilation abound. Michelle Terry gave an outstanding and very brave performance as Grace, whose search for her beloved brother Graham (Graham Butler) has led her to a totalitarian basement (apparently in a university, but Katie Mitchell’s production by no means makes this clear) run by torturer Tinker (Tom Motherdale), who fancies a Woman (Natalie Klamar). Tinker is also torturing Carl (Peter Hobday) and Rod (George Taylor) to prove their love for each other. Sweet Robin (Matthew Tennyson) falls in love with Grace and is force-fed the chocolates he has bought her as a gift. This last was the only aspect of the production that truly bothered me, as the actor had to have been really eating the chocolate. I can watch fake torture and rape all day, but frankly, don’t really want to. In the era of Game of Thrones, is any of this truly shocking? In the absence of context, I found it meaningless. The torture in 1984, for instance, has meaning in its totalitarian context, and the cry “Do it to Julia” cuts to the heart. Without knowing why the characters are at Tinker’s mercy, I found it impossible to care about them.

Doctor Faustus (WE)

Another Jamie Lloyd production, and another disappointment. Imagine the outcry that would ensue if anyone did to Shakespeare what Lloyd and Colin Teevan have done to poor Christopher Marlowe. The setup is kept more or less intact, with Kit Harington’s Faustus approached in his squalid flat by Mephistopheles (Jenna Russell) and offered the infamous deal with the devil. But again, this lacked context. Harington’s character did not seem either religious or particularly scientific, so his choice lacked meaning. From there, we abandoned Marlowe’s text and were placed in a modern context, with Harington a successful conjurer who falls in love with Wagner (Jade Anouka). The production is loud, with constant movement, bells and whistles, as if to cater for the modern complete lack of attention span. The acting is good, with Harrington throwing himself into the part, but Lloyd again directs a sort of constant shouting. I’d like to see Harington on stage again, but directed by someone, anyone else. I cannot comment further, as due to the complete inability to hear any kind of bell from the too-tiny loo, I returned for the second half to find it had already started. Taking that as a sign, I made my departure without a second’s regret.

Catch-up post – The Good

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I’ve been delaying this and just adding to the enormous pile of things to be reviewed. So here it goes, in three posts: The Good, The Bad, and The Opera/Ballet/Classical/Art. We’ll start positively, with The Good.

Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom (NT)

Now this is the sort of thing the NT ought to be putting on regularly. August Wilson’s masterpiece about Chicago jazz musicians in the 1920s was innovatively staged and beautifully acted. The opening used only a lower, shallow part of the stage, and I was subconsciously waiting for more of the stage to be revealed, only to realise that the cramped, shallow, low-level space occupied by the band (and the stage above and production booth above that, occupied by the white production engineers) was precisely the point. Superlative acting by Clint Dyer, O-T Fagbenle, Tunji Lucas, Lucian Msamati and Sharon D Clarke made this a provocative, thoughtful, enraging and despairing pleasure. August Wilson is up there with the very best of American playwrights, and ought to be revived as regularly as Miller, Williams and O’Neill.

The Master Builder (Old Vic)

I first learned about Ibsen’s masterpiece from Aspects of Love, and had never seen it staged before. Ralph Fiennes dominated the stage, and everyone on it, as the eponymous architect Halvard Solness. Ibsen’s play was imaginatively and impeccably brought to modern life by David Hare. Fiennes’ passionate, successful, insecure Solness brought wistfulness to his unhappy marriage (his wife played beautifully by Linda Emond) and captured Solness’s complex mix of paternal affection, sexual attraction and professorial detachment towards Sarah Snook’s Hilde Wangel. Snook has a beautiful, low speaking voice and was forthright, healthy and hearty. I wished for a little more variety in her manner, and perhaps a trifle more coquettishness and less straightforwardness. But I quibble – it was an extremely enjoyable evening.

The Father (WE)

Florian Zeller has done the virtually impossible. As a young, French playwright, he has managed to bring two plays to the West End and one to Broadway, at the age of 36. And the reason for that is that this play, in particular, is worthy of all the praise it has received. Kenneth Cranham is heartbreaking as Andre, a man suffering from Alzheimer’s, who may or may not have been a tap dancer (more likely an engineer) and who may or may not live with his daughter Anne (Amanda Drew) and/or his carer Laura (Jade Williams). Cranham’s distress is palpable and yet you sense the vital energy and charm that were for so long integral to his life. I identified most closely with Drew, of course, who brought Parisian chic and up-to-the-moment European angst (“Remember, Dad, I moved to London for a job”) to Anne, and whose sadness was both crystal clear and beautifully hidden. Moving, but never patronising.

Uncle Vanya (Almeida)

Robert Icke’s updated and anglicised version of Chekhov’s masterpiece had its problems (mostly the anglicisation), but the astonishingly good acting by this superlative cast conquered all. Vanya became John (Paul Rhys) and Astrov became Michael (Tobias Menzies). Elena (Vanessa Kirby) and Sonya (Jessica Brown Findlay) were permitted to keep their names. But my God, what evocation of human frailty was displayed. Brown Findlay downplayed her beauty to bring Sonya’s naive passion to life, and the chemistry between Kirby and Menzies was electric. Rhys may have been the best of all, with his pathetic, moving speech the embodiment of many an intellectual’s fear. These characters may have been given English names, but their souls were Russian. A joyous production and a celebration of human life. (Especially Menzies dancing in his underwear).

Mrs Henderson Presents (WE)

This divided the critics, but I enjoyed it. I am a complete sucker for a Blitz, bunting and tits musical, and this embodied them all. This story of Mrs Henderson’s nudie review at the Windmill Theatre, which opened in the ’30s and stayed open throughout the war, was based on a charming musical starring Judi Dench and Bob Hoskins. Interestingly, the objections that some critics made to the nudity in the musical didn’t seem to have been made about the film. Tracie Bennett was warm and businesslike as Laura Henderson, following in the impossible footsteps of Dame Judi. Emma Williams’ Maureen was by far the most interesting character on stage, displaying depth of both intellect and feeling. Overall, though, it had the depth of a tea cup. I enjoyed it enormously, whilst recognising its failings. Not everything can be a masterpiece, but audiences will have come out of this with smiles on their faces.

Fiddler on the Roof (Broadway)

This may be the best musical of all time. Its themes are universal and yet its setting is so very specific in time and place (Jews in pre-revolutionary Russia). And, let us not forget, the songs (by Bock and Harnick) are so, so good. They are cliches for a reason. It was an utter joy to see it in New York, on Broadway, with an audience for whom Danny Burstein’s modern-day Tevye, investigating his family’s history in his windbreaker at the Anatevka train station at the beginning and end of the show, clearly resonated fully and deeply. Burstein’s Tevye was wise and foolish, handsome and plain, sympathetic and harsh. The rest of the cast, including Jessica Hecht, Alexandra Silber, Adam Kantor, Samantha Massell, Melanie Moore, Nick Rehberger and Alix Korey, was uniformly excellent. Hofesh Shechter’s choreography updated Jerome Robbins’s original choreography beautifully, and put a modern stamp on proceedings. It was with no little sadness that I realised that a similar revival in the West End would be impossible at the present time.

Motown the Musical (WE)

The definition of critic-proof, and yet enjoyable. This was mostly because of Cedric Neal’s outstanding work as Berry Gordy. Neal brought pathos to a man who wouldn’t recognise a neurosis if it bit him. This was a classic, splashy, over-the-top jukebox musical. It had outstanding singing, acting and most of all costumes. Sifiso Mazibuko brought passion and depth to Marvin Gaye, and Charl Brown was a delightfully smooth Smokey Robinson. Lucy St Louis looked beautiful, and sang well enough. No one would have expected her to be Diana Ross, for there can be only one Miss Ross. But I’m afraid I didn’t believe either that she loved Gordy or that she had any reason for leaving him – her acting skills simply weren’t there. Other than that, it was a delightful evening (if somewhat lacking in plot). And how can one complain after hearing pretty much every Motown standard there is, sung by an extremely talented cast.

Les Blancs (NT)

Lorraine Hansberry’s masterpiece is widely acknowledged to be A Raisin in the Sun, but I think this may be even better. Finished after her early death, this exploration of an African state’s uprising against its colonial rulers is staged here to extraordinary effect. The NT makes good use of the Olivier’s vast expanse, with smoke, bones, incense and chanting creating an atmospheric and claustrophobic setting for the inevitable climax of colonialism. Danny Sapani is revelatory as Tshembeh Matoseh, a local man who has left his British wife and baby son in London to return home for his father’s funeral. Elliot Cowan is accurately irritating as Charlie Morris, an American journalist who has come to write about the work of the local mission. Anna Madeley and Sian Phillips represent the types of white women who came to missions such as these – whether they support the mission blindly or for love (whether the love of the people or of the mission head) we cannot tell. Gary Beadle and Tunji Kasim are Tshembeh’s brothers, in vastly different positions in this conflict. Sitting amongst us is a chorus of Xhosa women, who remind us that we cannot remain detached from this, for we have caused it. Sheila Atim haunts the production as The Woman, a separate presence. A haunting and memorable evening.

 

Sunset Boulevard (ENO)

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I’ve got so much to post about, and will catch up soon, but I simply had to come back to rave about Sunset Boulevard. I’ve never been one to wait for the official reviews to come out (and have been raked over the coals for it) but I did want to wait this time, just to confirm that my adoration of this was not misplaced or due to teenage infatuation.

There was so much that could have gone wrong. Glenn Close returning to the role after so many years. A show that was critically praised, but never made any money. And above all, staging at the troubled ENO, which lost its music director Mark Wigglesworth so recently that he still appeared in the programme.

I adored the cast recording of this that appeared in the early 1990s, but never saw a performance. Some of the nuances escaped me at the time (why on earth did they want Norma’s car?) but the naked emotion, lush orchestration and some of Lloyd Webber’s most beautiful melodies were catnip to a teenager with a dramatic inner life (and an exterior life sadly lacking in drama, or so I thought at the time).

This limited-run production was an absolute revelation. Glenn Close was a superlative Norma Desmond, the delusional, ageing Hollywood star. She has never been the greatest singer in the world, but it mattered not a jot. She sang well and truly in her most comfortable range, and the slight shakiness of the top notes worked well with her characterisation of a woman losing her grip on reality. Her acting was astonishing, as she made us feel the imperious quality of a true star one minute, and crumbled into sad old age the next. It was an amazing performance and she held us in her grip the entire time. By the end of “With One Look” we were hers, and “As If We Never Said Goodbye” was an utter triumph.

Michael Xavier was very good as Joe Gillis, the young writer who becomes tragically enmeshed in Norma’s orbit. He was perhaps lacking in edge, as you never really saw the requisite dark side. But his singing was excellent, particularly the titular “Sunset Boulevard,” and his “Too Much in Love to Care” with Siobhan Dillon’s Betty was very affecting. Dillon sang very beautifully and brought sympathy to a fairly by-the-numbers ingenue part, and for that deserves great praise.

But for me, the two stars (saving Miss Close’s divine presence, of course) were Fred Johanson as Max von Mayerling, and the ENO’s orchestra. Johanson’s beautiful bass and slightly wooden (but entirely appropriate) acting raised the part of Max von Mayerling, Norma’s butler and protector, to an entirely new level. And ENO’s orchestra brought Webber’s most beautiful music to life with a display of superlative playing. It was as if they were showing us what they could do in the face of such internal difficulties, and what they could do was very good indeed.

A couple of niggles – why on earth was it necessary to have a dancer, representing young Norma, flitting about during the most emotionally sensitive scenes? She was at best unnecessary, and at worst a distraction. And whilst it was clever to use the orchestra pit as Norma’s swimming pool, the object displayed within it at the beginning was particularly unrealistic.

But these are minor quibbles. Overall, it was a beautifully put together revival of one of Lloyd Webber’s most lush and romantic scores, affectingly acted by a great talent and cleverly and well staged. I have never seen a London audience leap to its feet with such abandon, but I completely understand why they did. A triumph.

Catch-Up Post of Mediocrity (and Occasional Brilliance)

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A Christmas Carol (WE)

Jim Broadbent is incapable of acting badly, but his Ebeneezer Scrooge was essentially phoned-in. And the prices they charged for a rickety set and play-sort-of-within-a-play that didn’t know whether it wanted to be funny or serious were utterly ridiculous. A blatant attempt to rip off the holiday market, and I was not in the mood to be fleeced. A serious disappointment.

Jane Eyre (NT)

This adaptation, brought from the Bristol Old Vic and directed by Sally Cookson, had its moments of pleasure. It was well-acted throughout, with Madeleine Worrall playing Jane from (literally) infancy to adulthood, and Felix Hayes a fiery Rochester. Melanie Marshall’s stunning voice saved the evening for me, as I was not enormously fond of the experimental nature of the production. It also featured the first (but not the last) instance of a person playing an animal (here a dog) that I would see at the NT in January.

As You Like It (NT)

The NT clearly spent a lot of money on this production, and the transition from the first act’s office to the “forest” was visually stunning, and even appeared slightly dangerous for the participants. But playing the first act in an office was unduly constrained and somewhat dull, and I could not see any creative justification for it. Generally well acted, but Rosalie Craig’s Rosalind did not, for me, have her usual luminous brilliance. More people playing animals in this one, sheep this time, which they did almost disconcertingly well. An odd production and, for me, unsuccessful.

Grey Gardens (Southwark)

Sheila Hancock was heartbreaking and hilarious, and Jenna Russell very strong indeed in this stripped-down version of a Broadway hit. Well staged and enjoyable, this rumination on the decay of an American family (cousins of Jackie Kennedy Onassis) provided a great deal of pleasure. A generally strong supporting cast sang beautifully and recreated an affluent inter-war American household with great attention to detail (good accents throughout!). I didn’t love it as it was very uneven, with the second half much better than the first, but I liked it very much.

Husbands and Sons (NT)

Oh my, is it ever grim up North. This combination of three of D.H. Lawrence’s plays about miners and their wives and mothers was beautifully staged, impeccably acted and utter misery from start to finish. I booked for Anne-Marie Duff and she did not disappoint, with her exquisite acting in the final scene just about making up for all the suffering that had gone before. One for the die-hards only.

Ellen Terry with Eileen Atkins (Sam Wanamaker Playhouse at the Globe)

This was a rather wonderful exploration of Shakespeare’s female characters. Based on lectures that the actress Ellen Terry developed with Henry Irving, Eileen Atkins played excerpts from some of Shakespeare’s greatest plays and provided new insights into the motivations of Desdemona, Juliet, Portia, Beatrice and other heroines. I was glad that it was only 70 minutes long, however, as the Sam Wanamaker Playhouse is, while a bijou gem, deeply uncomfortable as a theatre. An acting master class.

Rabbit Hole (Hampstead)

This emotionally devastating exploration of a child’s death has a strong cast, led by Claire Skinner and Tom Goodman-Hill, and is well acted throughout. But I’m afraid the tragedy lost its effect on me because of the terrible American accents (with the honourable exception of Penny Downie’s Nat, whose accent is very good). The play is very strongly set in Westchester County, but many people who live there have generic east coast accents. It’s really not necessary to try for Yonkers when Manhattan will do.

The Homecoming (WE)

A 50th anniversary production of one of Pinter’s most shocking plays. It remains shocking, but possibly for reasons other than those intended. This sordid exploration of men’s lust and women’s power retains its dramatic force, but reveals rather more about the playwright than I suspect he intended. John Simm as Lenny, Ron Cook as Max, Keith Allen as Sam, Gary Kemp’s Teddy and John Macmillan’s Joey are all excellent, with Simm and Cook as particular highlights. But it is Gemma Chan’s Ruth who intrigues us most, as she shows us the woman behind the fantasy. Worth booking for her performance.