October Catch-Up Post

Yet again I have fallen behind. It’s a busy time of year! So here we have another catch-up post to get back on track.

The Red Lion (NT)
I am not immune to the allure of the beautiful game at the top level. Messi’s impossible brilliance, Cristiano Ronaldo’s frustrating perfection and even Wayne Rooney’s brutish elegance are not lost on me. But I have never really loved football for its own sake, especially at the unglamorous, semi-pro league level portrayed in Patrick Marber’s well structured three-hander. Calvin Demba, Daniel Mays and Peter Wight were very strong as the young talent, desperate manager and aging heart and soul of the club, respectively. The comedy and passion elicited by Marber from this situation were remarkable, and I found myself caring desperately about the characters. It will be interesting to see if it is revived in a couple of years, and what the state of football will be when it is. One of two beautifully written Marber plays in this round-up.

Hangmen (Royal Court)
I have always enjoyed Martin McDonagh’s plays in the past, but thought his voice uniquely Irish. So it was something of a shock to see that he is equally comfortable (or seems to be, I am far from an expert) writing in the vernacular of the north of England. This unusual and blackly comic play involving retired hangmen (capital punishment having been abolished in England in 1965) was one of the funniest and most disturbing plays I have seen in ages. A stellar cast was led by David Morrissey as Harry, a retired hangman, and Johnny Flynn as Mooney, a slightly disturbing young man who may not be quite what he seems. A scene where Mooney employs classic “negging” and pick-up artist techniques on Harry’s teenage daughter Shirley (Bronwyn James, perfectly gullible) sent shivers down my spine and made me want to buy a copy of “The Gift of Fear” for every teenage girl in the world. It’s being given a West End transfer. Go, you won’t regret it.

La Musica (Young Vic)
A short two-hander about the end of a marriage, by Marguerite Duras. It began with the couple (played by Emily Barclay and Sam Troughton in a marvel of concentration) sitting on a raised plinth with their backs to us. Cameras projected their faces to us on the wall in extreme close-up, and I must confess to marvelling at Barclay’s beautiful complexion and lack of visible pores as much as the couple’s (exquisite) acting. In the second half, the couple moved to a small area to one side, and the audience followed, surrounding them. Such an atmosphere of claustrophobia added to the tension inevitably felt by the audience. It was an effective play, but I couldn’t help but feel that it would be utterly exhausting being married to either of the narcissistic, self-absorbed characters. An interesting experiment.

Tipping the Velvet (Lyric Hammersmith)
A play written by Laura Wade (who wrote Posh, which I thoroughly enjoyed), directed by Lyndsey Turner (a director whose productions I always find thought-provoking) and based on a beautifully written book about Victorian lesbians by Sarah Waters (one of my favourite authors in the world). What could possibly go wrong? Oh dear oh dear oh dear. It looked amateurish, seemed to last forever, and worst of all, there was no chemistry between Kitty (Laura Rogers) and Nancy (Sally Messham). The cast were talented (particularly Messham, who is clearly one to watch) but not enough to keep us there. After a first half of an hour and twenty minutes and faced with a second half of about the same length of time, we decided that discretion was the better part of valour and abandoned the effort. Stick to the BBC miniseries or better yet, the book.

Three Days in the Country (NT)
You may be wondering, what happened to the rest of the month? It was truncated in this version of Turgenev’s masterpiece, simply and effectively updated by Patrick Marber. The play was once memorably described by a friend of mine as “it’s just posh Russians going on about love,” but they go on very articulately in Marber’s version. Amanda Drew was a beautiful and charming Natalya, although as ever with this play, I found it difficult to believe that simply everyone was in love with her. John Simm was a dignified and funny Rakitin, and Lily Sacofsky a passionate and very young Vera. John Light’s Arkady was fiery (and his beard surprisingly flattering) and Mark Gatiss brought welcome notes of levity as Shpigelsky. Royce Pierreson was something of a blank as Belyaev, but then the character is supposed to be a blank on which others project their own feelings (and boy, do these people have a lot of feelings). It doesn’t matter though, as Pierreson is going to be a star. He has simply buckets of star quality, beautiful intensity, and great presence. An unusual though effective set, a great script and a wonderful cast made this an evening to remember. Highly recommended.

Catch-up Post: Plays Part 2

A View From the Bridge (Young Vic): A tour de force from Mark Strong. His film career means that he is sometimes overlooked as a stage actor, which is an enormous shame. His presence radiated through the audience like an electric shock and the set design was innovative and extremely effective.

The Audience (WE): Kristin Scott Thomas this time. Someone described this play as “critic-proof,” and that is accurate, as it is not a play so much as a celebration of longevity. KST was suitably imperious, but lacked the humanity that Helen Mirren brought to the role.

Bad Jews (St James): A side-splittingly funny exploration of family, faith and sheer pettiness. I hated and loved all the characters in just about equal measure. I laughed like a drain for an hour and a half and saw it again at the Arts. A tonic.

The Twits (Royal Court): Roald Dahl wrote the original story. All of the actors involved were very talented and, I’m sure, did their best. And yet it was unremittingly awful. Incredibly dull. The best bit was watching children react to David Walliams’s presence among them (he was in the audience).

The Hard Problem (NT): The celebrated return of Sir Tom Stoppard. A rising star in Olivia Vinall. I wondered how it could have been written by the same person who wrote Arcadia, as the subtlety with which he explored science and the human condition in that play was all gone. This exploration of a woman scientist’s faith and career was about as subtle as a brick and very simplistic (and, if one were being uncharitable, sexist). A big disappointment.

Golem (Young Vic): As a frequent theatre-goer, it is rare that a production surprises and delights. This exploration of urban life, capitalism and romance addressed these important subjects in a fascinating manner with a light touch. Beautiful projections made this very unusual production a treat for the eye and the mind.

Antigone (Barbican): I need Greek tragedy to be made palatable for me, as the NT’s Medea and the Almeida’s Greeks season have recently done. This was, I’m afraid, static and one-note (shrieking) throughout, despite the luminous presence of Juliette Binoche and direction by the celebrated Ivo Van Hove.

The Play that Goes Wrong (WE): A very silly play within a play, which was hilariously funny and delightfully performed. If you need a pick me up, go to this. I enjoyed its low budget charms enormously.

Blithe Spirit (WE): There’s not much to be said about this that hasn’t already been said. It’s important to note that Angela Landsbury was fantastic not for an 88-year old, but for a performer of any age. A sparkling, charming production.

The Ruling Class (WE): A very odd play indeed, and dated in many respects. Whilst the aristocracy remains with us and have a great deal of power, we can thank our lucky stars (and the Russians, Chinese and Arabs who are our present ruling class) that they do not have the same power they did in the 1960s. James McAvoy was wonderful as always and the star of the show, as one would expect when spending a significant amount of stage time believing oneself (or pretending) to be Jesus Christ. A curate’s egg.

Happy Days (Young Vic): I often struggle with Beckett, although Waiting for Godot can be a great pleasure with the right pair of actors. Juliet Stevenson shone in this exploration of a woman’s very English captivity, although I cannot in all honesty say I enjoyed it. Appreciated is more the right word.

Taken at Midnight (WE): The mother of a captured German dissident during WWII was a great part for Penelope Wilton and I absolutely understand why she took it. That said, and whilst it was very moving, I’m afraid we’ve seen it all before. Its power on stage was remarkable, however.

The Fever (Almeida, in a WE hotel): Tobias Menzies has rather flown under the radar as a stage actor, although his appearance in U.S. TV blockbusters Game of Thrones and Outlander means that his star appears to be rising. This monologue about a wealthy Westerner musing on the developing world was exquisitely performed in the intimacy of a hotel suite. Unfortunately, its internal inconsistencies and lack of intellectual rigour (wealth is not a zero sum game) meant that I spent the evening admiring the acting rather than being moved by the play.

The Three Lions (St James): A play that was very much meant for television, with three actors impersonating David Cameron, Prince William and David Beckham in their (ultimately doomed) efforts to secure the 2018 World Cup. It was quite funny, with the best jokes being aimed by “Cameron” at Boris Johnson. Enjoyable, but missable.

Ballyturk (NT): Sometimes you go to the theatre and watch a play (in this case an Enda Murphy play set in Ireland amongst possibly brilliant and possibly insane people throwing things at each other) and you are left with the conclusion that either you are an idiot in the presence of genius or what happened on stage was nonsensical. With this one, I lean toward the second conclusion, despite energetic acting by Cillian Murphy, Mikel Murfi and Stephen Rea.

Electra (Old Vic): Another one note Greek tragedy. Impeccable shrieking from Kristin Scott Thomas, but there were few nuances to the performance. I have enjoyed her acting in the past, but I feel that perhaps I have seen all of the notes on offer.

Skylight (WE): A very good play, superbly acted by Bill Nighy and Carey Mulligan as former lovers rehashing the past. I found it infuriating, however, as David Hare’s play makes many assumptions about women, the business world and marital fidelity, few of which in my experience are true.

Richard III (WE): I enjoyed Martin Freeman’s Richard III when I saw it, but it is with several months’ distance that I am able to fully appreciate its greatness. He exemplified the banality of evil and the despot lurking in many ordinary men. An unshowy and brilliant performance.

Great Britain (NT): How we waited for the outcome of the Rebekah Brooks trial, so that we would be able to see this play. It was done as befitting a tabloid, cheaply and cheerfully, and with brittle, paper-thin jokes designed for a quick laugh and tomorrow’s fish and chips. Billie Piper was perfect for the role, though, and performed it very well.