Lively Curiosity Feed

As You Like It, Globe Touring Ensemble: a pleasant summer comedy

2021-06-30T22:01:00.002+01:00

This article was commissioned by The Upcoming, where it appeared for the first time.

Photo Credit: Marc Brenner

The great wooden “O” of Shakespeare’s Globe exudes a particular charm on a chilled summer evening. After so much time spent indoors glued to screens, this theatre – the perfect venue for enjoying live outdoor performances (weather permitting) – is a sight for sore eyes: the central weeks of the season are graced by the alternation of the on-site production with two (three, if also considering the Audience Choice) shows, brought on stage by the Globe Touring Ensemble. One of the most visible differences between the two is the use of stripped-back sets by the latter due to the itinerant nature of the company. In this case, the backdrop is left bare, meaning that the design is down to the imagination of the audience and the prowess of the performers, who must fill up what is physically absent in terms of props and scenery. Although not as successful in terms of utilising the whole space and making the atmosphere vibrant, As You Like It flows smoothly in its delivery and eventually kindles genuine laughs.

The gentle Orlando (Stephenson Ardern-Sodje) flees under the threat of his older brother. At the same time, Rosalind (Emma Ernest) is banished from the court by her uncle, the Duke Senior (Sara Lessore), who also exiled her father years ago. Her cousin, Celia (Anna Crichlow), who now feels like a sister, decides to leave with the outcast. The two ladies go on an adventure, both in disguise to avoid being attacked. The main characters all find themselves (oblivious of each other) in the Forest of Arden, where, instead of desolation and isolation, they experience pleasant chance meetings and encounter love.

As per the Globe’s tradition, the performance opens and closes with music: light tunes that engage every player in some way, whether that be embracing a guitar or beating the tambourine. As there is no interval on this occasion, the rhythmic intermissions are much appreciated to break up the running time.

The piece takes some time to set off, with the first part staying on a lukewarm register. From the midway point, the comedy scenes gradually spread: while at first, humour is the prerogative of the vehement Katy Secombe (playing the fool Touchstone and the spiky Phoebe), we later see fun exchanges featuring the ousted Rosalind as the catalyst.

The actions lack the kind of expansive projection that could wrap up the production nicely, but this may be due to on-stage social-distancing restrictions. There would certainly be enough room, though, to move around, occupy more of the platform and create a more physical embodiment of the drama, which would add depth to the sequences. Overall, a sprinkle of conflict, a scattering of music, a surge of laughter and a well-paced “All the world’s a stage” monologue all contribute towards a lively and entertaining performance.

- Read the article on The Upcoming -

Dates: 1 July - 29 August 2021

Venue: Shakespeare’s Globe

Rice!, Wayang Kitchen: food-fuelled theatre experience

2021-03-03T21:40:00.001+00:00

This article was commissioned by The Upcoming, where it appeared for the first time.

Simmering, spooning, sprinkling: simple gestures and key ingredients have the power to connect one’s present identity to memories and traditions. Amongst familiar flavours, family rituals and personal twists on old recipes, the bubbling pots and pans become intimate friends, in the company of which a migrant could easily rekindle the smells and chatter of home. Wayang Kitchen theatre company stirs these food-fuelled sentiments into the story as we follow Connie, a Chinese-Malaysian-born girl whose relocation to the UK starts her on a path that gradually veers away from the one traced by her parents and grandparents.

One hour ahead of Rice!, the attendants are invited to join a cooking class led by Set the Tables, live streaming from Kuala Lumpur, to prepare congee (rice porridge) and tea eggs. The room is warmed up by the spices, the sizzling anchovies and the sweet steam of the rice, before the camera turns on to reveal grown-up Connie (Michelle Wen Lee) and then swiftly switches to young Connie (Amanda Ang) as she reads a thanksgiving letter to her mother. The protagonist recollects childhood episodes that reveal the beginning of a journey with traces of her Asian upbringing, but which already foretell a movement towards more westernised soil. As Connie goes on to make a career in the entertainment industry, questions arise and confusion creeps into different aspects of her life, from her inability to blend in convincingly within a certain ethnic community to her conversations with housemates.

The ingredients box is definitely a valuable add-on for the show. That certain sense of detachment that is inevitably felt when watching through a screen fades away as the dish is prepared and the videos of occasional participants turn on. Given that the production entails simultaneous live streaming from both the UK and Malaysia, it’s perfect timing for lunch on this side of the world, and dinner on the other – and the bowl full of rice on the table creates a comfortable setting in which to begin the experience.

The young Connie broadcasts a vivid image straight away, while adult Connie’s role within the bigger picture doesn’t seem as clear until midway through the performance. Significant lines – such as the invisibility of migrants within the fast-paced British culture or the filtered reality of social platforms – are unfortunately often interspersed with more recurrent tropes relating to Brexit and integration. The script would have benefitted from a deeper insight into Connie’s background, offering more of the contrasts between her present mind and the influence of her grandmother – as well as the duty of marriage, which is effectively touched upon in one scene.

Just as the separate grains combine to form a satisfying bowl of congee, Rice! could have been tastier by incorporating all of the different elements into one single dish. However, a variety of colourful segments, together with a sassy music playlist that nicely shapes the show, all combine to create a pleasant performance.

- Read the article on The Upcoming -

Dates: 20-21 and 27-28 February 2021

Venue: Omnibus Theatre online

The Play That Goes Wrong: a terrific slapstick act

2020-12-15T12:29:00.013+00:00

This article was commissioned by The Upcoming, where it appeared for the first time.

Photo: Robert Day

Whether lines go missing or scenes fall apart, the show must go on no matter what. The Cornley Polytechnic Drama Society – the fictitious second name of Mischief Theatre – has taken this maxim so seriously that not even the most disastrous accidents manage to stop them from completing the performance. This embrace of chaos results in a terrific slapstick act, produced by the award-winning Mischief Comedy team.

The theatre company welcomes the audience to a 1920s murder mystery as the owner of Haversham Manor (Elan James) is found dead on the evening of his engagement. A detective (Christ Green) swiftly reaches the crime scene to investigate whom among those present is the culprit. As the suspects are all related to the victim and seemingly have something to hide, the case is not an easy one to crack. Misleading clues appear one after another as the show progresses, while motives remain ambiguous.

The troupe’s ethos, as amusingly declared by Cornley Society’s director, is to proceed with a very serious and committed production. However, even before the curtain officially rises this doesn’t seem to be the case. The technical crew preparing the backdrop does not look well-assembled, giving signs of dysfunctionality as the performance begins. It takes a lot of work to create a successful comedy, but even more praise must go to the creative team and cast who hilariously enact a failing play while appearing effortlessly unrehearsed.

The colourful yet traditional whodunit setting features props that reveal red herrings or are humorously dropped throughout the performance. A couple of long pauses dynamically break the fourth wall, prompting viewers to chime in. These participatory elements – all taking place within a safe distance – entail not only behind the scenes components of the set design but also the music and light controllers.

The energy emanated by actors – and also the technicians-turned-thespians incorporated in the catastrophic show – is exhilarating. Every character maintains a peculiar personality within and outside their roles. Like a well-oiled machine, they intersect and dramatically support each other in entertaining nonsense.

Especially in these heavy times, there’s no better artistic antidote than a light-hearted production in which everything that is supposed to go right instead goes wrong. The Play That Goes Wrong is unashamedly fun and superb for a family night out. While the production may not be as entertaining for those who are not big fans of physical comedy, it is sure to still evoke an uproar of laughs from all crowds.

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Dates: 9 December 2020 - 2 May 2021

Venue: Duchess Theatre

A Monster Calls: mystifying amalgam of audio and acrobatic elements

2020-06-10T12:04:00.000+01:00

This article was commissioned by The Upcoming, where it appeared for the first time.

Photo credit: Manuel Harlan

The narrative of Patrick Ness’s novel plunges into the dark and truthful corridors of nightmares and visions. Sally Cookson intriguingly concocts an amalgam of audio and acrobatic elements to conjure a world in between fantasy and reality. Although this reviewer believes the effect would have enveloped the audience in a rather different way if experienced live – with all the lights going down and the loud thumps and clicks – the digital performance is striking too, and thanks to privileged close-ups shots of the cast, remains dramatic and powerful.

Conor (Matthew Tennyson) is tormented at night by the same scary dreams, until one day, at 12:07, a monster – the yew tree (Stuart Goodwin) standing next to their house – pays him a visit. He makes a deal: the ancient creature will tell three tales on three different nights, and in return, Conor will have to tell his own true story. During the day, the young protagonist has to deal with frictions with his classmates and, most importantly, with the illness of his mother (Marianne Oldham). There is an elephant in the room when it comes to the future of this family, but it is never spelt out clearly, especially by Conor.

Chairs and ropes are the only props. The stage is invaded by a game of shadow and light, flashing in the scene changes and key twists. The sounds, monopolised by techno and electric tones, play a majestic role. Although slightly undermined by overly melodramatic notes towards the end, the musical elements, together with coloured projections, fill up the stage, amplifying the shapes and visions.

Tennyson shines in his absorbing performance. This is well-matched with the brash attitude of John Leader, and the apparently detached behaviour of Selina Cadell actually brings balance to the group. Goodwin plays on a different level, mastering the physical execution required for his enactment of the tree, while his face, though not at the forefront, inspires a sense of humanity to the so-called monster.

The emotional weight overall feels excessive: this is an utterly sad scenario where not even a vague happy ending can be foreseen – other than a patchy miracle. The plot tackles loss, forgiveness, mental health and relationships without labelling any of them (greatly thanks to the monster’s tales). However, everything merges together, swirling within the same gloomy spiral. From the midway point, the production risks letting everything hang on these mournful segments. The pieces come together, eventually, in a modest way. The fabled stories and the intense and fierce character of Conor, which ultimately comes out in full force, are what stays with viewers long after the two-hour performance ends.

- Read the article on The Upcoming -

Dates: 5 -11 June 2020
Platform: Old Vic’s Youtube channel

Ottolenghi and the Cakes of Versailles: mouthwatering documentary

2020-05-03T11:30:00.000+01:00

This article was commissioned by The Upcoming, where it appeared for the first time.

An opulent feast of flavours is set to take place at the Met and Yotam Ottolenghi has been invited to direct and guide the preparation of this special culinary gala.

The 2018 exhibition Visitors to Versailles (1682–1789) in the American art museum required a grand opening, whose aim was to give the guests a sugary taste of the lost luxury of the Sun King’s court. In her latest documentary, director Laura Gabbert follows the Israeli-British chef and writer as he casts the best pastry talents for the mission while going deeper into the habits and costumes of the royal palace. In Ottolenghi’s words, a recipe turns out to be very good when it has a story related to it. The movie seeks to uncover the history of that period of French cuisine as well as exploring the personal stories of the featured dessert creators. These different streams of narrative, together with the testimony of Ottolenghi himself, feel like too much for one 75-minute course. The connecting thread is intriguing and the human angle is the driving factor, but the volatile changes of focus risk whisking the whole too hastily.

The method chosen to select the talents was not only for their fame. Ottolenghi seriously browses through their Instagram portfolios to make sure that the visual impact of the work showcased will be the focus of the opening event. The team assembled features Dominique Ansel, the mastermind of cronuts; Ghaya Oliveira, pastry chef at the Michelin-starred restaurant Daniel; Dinara Kasko, 3D cake baker; Sam Bompas, jelly genius; and Janice Wong, dessert designer. They are all masters of spectacular production. They didn’t start in the kitchen as their first chosen career, but, from different life paths, ended up working with creams and sweets at high levels of sophistication. The documentary gives some space to the dazzling display. The interest is mostly shifted towards the building up of the final product, and the enquiring Ottolenghi visits the labs pretty close to the date.

Ryan Rumery’s music nicely links all the sequences without overwhelming the interviews. Expert opinions are brought in at just the right points, leaving the chefs’ voices as the true centre. The use of paintings and sketches to evoke the palace’s parties and contemporary footage of its vast gardens could have been further implemented, in order to introduce more variety. But the key notions of Versailles are there: abundance, richness and sumptuous ostentation. Ottolenghi and the Cakes of Versailles is a lighthearted and mouthwatering production that recalls the strict relationship between storytelling and food in a smooth screening, while taking a peek into the majestic Met.

Ottolenghi and the Cakes of Versailles has been first screened for the Tribeca Film Festival 2020.

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The Parlour’s transformation in the time of coronavirus

2020-04-20T20:00:00.000+01:00

This article was commissioned by The Upcoming, where it appeared for the first time.

Photo credit: Ambra Vernuccio

That bustling, semi-lit, malt-heavy pub atmosphere: weeks into lockdown, more and more are clinging onto those fond memories. With all the dining and drink venues closed, people are trying to come up with creative and healthy ways to keep spirits high and spice up their daily lives during quarantine, searching for recipes and online cooking tutorials. However, with basic grocery shopping becoming a sort of nightmare, from the endless queues to the empty shelves, even our kitchen indulgence is meeting hurdles along the way. Fortunately, some local businesses are transforming their conventional way of trading in order to meet the new demands of the community, allowing them to both support the vulnerable at this critical moment and to keep their business afloat so that the staff can continue to be paid. Parlour Kensal is among them. From behind the closed doors of the local pub, the Parlour’s market place arises, cosy and friendly, offering many different ingredients (fruit and vegetables, meat and fish, dry goods, bakery and alcohol) as well as a range of prepared dishes. “I had to make a first birthday cake”, one of the customers tells us. “If they hadn’t been here with the self-raising flour, it would have been doomed!”

The newborn market is open from 10am to 4pm, seven days a week. Ordering and payment can be done online – with collection from 12pm the following day – or walk-in shopping is also available. “We all wear gloves and masks now,” explains Jesse Dunford Wood, owner and chef of Parlour Kensal, taking us through the practical changes that were required for the transformation. “We have taken the beer pumps down and the tables and chairs out. We have taken the fridges from the kitchen and relocated them all in order to hold outlets of fresh meat and fish.”

Photo credit: Ambra Vernuccio

The motivations behind this move are varied, but at the most basic level, there is business survival. Since the activation of the government’s restrictive measures and with the numbers of coronavirus cases growing, everyone, in one way or another, has been affected by the virus – physically, mentally, economically. One couple we meet at the Parlour are currently both on furlough, while two artists who live on a houseboat are suffering because of the delay of financial support for freelancers. Another customer, Oliver, is part of a small start-up and he and his colleagues have agreed to go down from the usual five working days to four so that everyone can keep their jobs. He tells us how handy it is in these circumstances to have places such as the Parlour’s market place offering fresh produce: “It means you don’t have to line up for 20 minutes to get into the supermarket”. Serving the community and being proactive about the current terrible situation have been strong catalysts for Jesse and the ex-pub team in kicking off the transformation.

Mornings at the Parlour begin with a big baking session to prepare four different types of bread. After this, there are a lot of fruit and vegetables to unbox. The hours go by pretty quickly between selling, topping up the produce, selling, answering phone calls and emails, and selling again. There is no longer evening service, but the “pub” is now also open on Mondays. The daily routine has undergone a drastic shift, and flipping the business into a retail one has also had its mental challenges. But the reaction from the neighbourhood so far has shown just how worthwhile every bit of effort has been. Locals have been really responsive, with lots of enthusiasm, and the clientele is continuously growing as news travels via word of mouth.

The bread is a firm favourite but flour is definitely at the top of most people’s shopping list: “we ran out one day and there was much uproar!” Wood reveals to us. Nonetheless, whilst they load crates, prepare bags for collection and offer information – from a certain distance – to the few customers allowed in at a time, you can detect the smiles of the staff underneath the masks. What’s next, then, for the Parlour? The owner muses for a moment: “Maybe we should open a real shop, once this whole episode is over.”

- Read the article with the photo reportage on The Upcoming -

On Blueberry Hill: striking script poking at our comfort

2020-03-14T16:36:00.002+00:00

This article was commissioned by The Upcoming, where it appeared for the first time.

Photo credit: Patrick Redmond

There is a bittersweet taste at the end of On Blueberry Hill. It is the flavour of a masterpiece to be munched over a while after the curtain call. With many layers involved, it is still a smooth production that passes like a fleeting single act.

Sebastian Barry’s new play covers guilt, anger and mercy through the lives of two prison inmates. PJ (David Ganly) and Christy (Niall Buggy) share the same cell, because of some unforgivable crimes that will be unveiled slowly. Luck or a mocking destiny has brought these two men, whose pathways were irreconcilable and whose family history made them natural enemies, to spend twenty years of their conviction in a narrow cubicle together. In alternating monologues, the characters rapidly move from the On Blueberry Hill music broadcast on the radio to the past events that determined their current situation. The link is revealed halfway through the play.

The flow and beauty of the language is the play’s most striking feature. The script is not simply well written, it punches and caresses at the right points. The text touches poetry without overdramatising the characters’ statements. Although the running time could have been reduced to some degree, the lack of interval is appropriate in order not to break the momentum. The tension gradually rises, albeit with possibly too many idle moments at the beginning, and the play finally grips in a balanced crescendo. The stories of the two men progress at different paces, and that’s how the threading of their lives thrives.

Buggy and Ganly are two giants of the performance space: the former more controlled and almost whimsical in his jokes, the latter vehement and animated. They connect and crash quietly, transporting the audience to different locations initially, and then communicating the confined feeling of the cage they are obliged to stay in.

The set design is free of any props, except a bunk bed and its ladder. The backdrop is constituted by a surrounding wall of pages, yellowish, old, hanging like fading fragments of memory. It is an ethereal context, where words are king.

Heartfelt and absorbing, On Blueberry Hill digs deep into human character and pokes at our comfort.

- Read the article on The Upcoming -

Dates: 11 March - 2 May 2020

Venue: Trafalgar Studios

Message in a Bottle: musical narrative of displacement

2020-02-22T10:30:00.000+00:00

This article was commissioned by The Upcoming, where it appeared for the first time.

Photo credit: Johan Persson

Kate Prince set a high bar for herself: bringing together a current and quite confrontational topic with eclectic evergreen music from Sting. She embraced the challenge, in tandem with ZooNation, and made a vibrant success of it. The songs are infused with new life and colour. The visuals speak of humanity, the modern wound of displacement and the sweet, happy moments of lives reborn.

The story follows three young siblings, who joyously cohabit with their community in an unidentified Arabic country. Right after the wedding of one of them, the civil war erupts. With the death of her husband and the disappearance of her daughter-in-law, the mother of three decides to embark on a perilous journey with Leto, Mati and Tana in search of that “invisible sun” where life can blossom again, away from bombs and smugglers. What awaits them, though, is the precarious destiny of refugees.

The production aspires to hope while waking up the public to the disturbing and dehumanising conditions today’s crisis’ migrants in the current crisis are subject to.

There is no talking and no script, but the songs blend into one another, threading through the narrative. However, the pieces of the plot do not perfectly match up towards the end. Some parts are foggy and not clearly subsequential. Apart from this “little black spot on the sun” – as Sting would sing – the rest of the drama is clear, composed of events that are sadly all too common to the many people seeking asylum.

The physicality given to the melody is wonderful. Heavily influenced by hip-hop, this contemporary dance features stunning breaking, making the head spin – quite literally for the performers and metaphorically for the audience. The rhythmic Arabic opening to Desert Rose is enticing. It then moves onto some heart-melting hits – Fields of Gold, Fragile, Every Breath You Take – that assume a different flavour on this backdrop. The bodies on stage merge as the dancers position themselves in fluid perimeters. Grief and violence are told without aggressiveness, but with a sense of powerlessness instead.

When the pace seems to ineffectively slow down, the curtains of the first act fall on the namesake song. Message in a Bottle starts quite flat and with very few figures on stage, to evolve into a rocking piece. The second act works a lot on differentiating the sequences, according to the destinies of the two brothers and the sister. It’s in the brightness and freedom of the new communities where the siblings separately land to overcome their previous struggles and find fulfilment. A remarkable game of shadows and projections is a clever element that’s added at this point. Shape of My Heart is surprising – this is the song out of all the others that receives a graceful and very tender cover, in a seamless pas de deux resemblance.

ZooNation delivers a performance that resonates in the heart and in the ears. A vigorous production that shakes and moves to tell a tale of today’s humanity.

- Read the article on The Upcoming -

Dates: 6 February - 21 March 2020
Venue: Peacock Theatre

Everybody’s Talking About Jamie: colourful musical bonanza

2020-01-25T15:00:00.000+00:00

This article was commissioned by The Upcoming, where it appeared for the first time.

Photo credit: Matt Crockett

After two years on Shaftesbury Avenue, Everybody’s Talking About Jamie has already made itself known as a colourful and joyous musical bonanza. This review won’t just reconfirm its status – still a dashing performance through the third main cast change – but lavish plaudits on the fun. The show has enough glittery sparkle to beat the toughest of January – and all year round – blues.

Jamie New (Noah Thomas) is a sixteen-year-old with a big dream: to become a drag queen. His life path, though, looks too flamboyant for the small city of Sheffield, and even his father (Marlon G. Day) is repulsed by such a decision. However, with the support of his mother (Melissa Jacques), his best friend Pritti Pasha (Hiba Elchikhe) and legendary queen Loco Chanelle (Bianca Del Rio), the fabulous Mimi Mi will gradually turn the heads and win the hearts of Jamie’s school and beyond.

A lighthearted production with its high-school vibes, the story is charged with important themes of acceptance, bullying, and identity. Cheerful and empowered, the audience was electrified by the end of the show. Waves of euphoria from the liberating attitude of the protagonist, the clear and uncensored language of teenagers and the upbeat music, invade the auditorium.

The costumes and choreography definitely play the winning cards. The smooth movements, with flowing and symmetric figures mastered by the Year 11 students, are hypnotizing. While the beginning is not the most striking part – except for the uplifting opening And You Don’t Even Know it – as the plot rolls on, the vocals reveal a narrative vibrant and touching at the same time. Spotlight and He’s My Boy are wonderful solo moments, the resonant singing of Elchikhe and Jacques reaching new peaks of sound.

The challenges are many for Jamie New, and not only due to the prejudices of his school class. Particular influence is wielded by his close family members. The tender relationship between mother and son is likely to cause some tears among the theatregoers, while Sejal Keshwala, as the outspoken Ray, is the perfect humorous supporter.

It’s no wonder why everybody is talking about Jamie. Laughter enriches this heartfelt production, that shines with lively choruses and bright staging.

- Read the article on The Upcoming -

Dates: 6 January - 29 August 2020

Venue: Apollo Theatre

Girl from the North Country: Dylan reimagined on stage

2019-12-19T20:30:00.000+00:00

This article was commissioned by The Upcoming, where it appeared for the first time.

Photo Credit: Manuel Harlan

With a tender dialogue between acting and singing, McPherson moulds a story for the stage that both touches the heart and pleases the ears. Smooth transitions and a deft cast give shape to Dylan’s poetic music.

Nick (Donald Sage Mackay) and Elizabeth (Katie Brayben) have a guesthouse in Duluth, Minnesota. The latter, affected by dementia, speaks her mind, giving voice at times to truths that normally go politely unsaid. The Depression of the early 30s in America hits the cunning and the unfortunate in equal measure. A varied crowd passes by, some coming from nowhere and only staying for a short time – like boxer Joe (Shaq Taylor) – others moving in for a longer period, waiting for the release of their wealth – like the widow Mrs Neilsen (Rachel John). Connecting them all is their tenancy under the same roof: they come from different circumstances, but all are limping towards survival. For the Laine couple, though, there is also a shadowy past.

The format of the production reimagines the idea of a conventional musical. Microphone stands appear as the songs are perfectly intertwined with the script, not in an elevated conversation among the cast members, but during small acts within the act: singing moments fo the audience to enjoy which create a pause in the flow of the narrative. The actors remain in their characters – extravagant, flirtatious, pensive –, they pick up an instrument (only those which existed in the 30s have been allowed in) and play the notes. The music doesn’t simply accompany; it sustains the sequences.

Dylan’s songs have quite a low and rough register that the artists brilliantly embrace. The feminine voices prevail, with Brayen proving phenomenal – in every part of her performance, particularly the disconnected stage movements –, followed closely by the warm sound of Obianyo and the resonant John. The hushed voiceover of Fedy Roberts fills in the few gaps in the storyline with velvety entrances and an easiness that fascinates.

The selection made from Dylan’s archive is praiseworthy. With hits from 1963 Girl from the North Country to 2012 with Duquesne Whistle, the list includes more popular and lesser-known singles. Like a Rolling Stone, striking right at the heart of the loneliness during a key decision-making moment, gets a wonderful arrangement, while earlier on Slow Train is another rich choral highlight.

This show is not concerned with being sugary or having a happy ending – it’s not a fairy tale – but rather a rediscovery of the weak and emotional tissues we are made of. The struggles of understanding and dealing with a disease, economical downfall, out-of-the-ordinary family circumstances are there, in plain sight. But compassion and a strong sense of caring for fellow human beings are the bottom line.

- Read the article on The Upcoming -

Dates: 10 December 2019 - 1 February 2020

Venue: Gielgud Theatre

Death of a Salesman: intense drama into human vulnerability

2019-11-07T15:34:00.000+00:00

This article was commissioned by The Upcoming, where it appeared for the first time.

Photo credit: Brinkhoff Mogenburg

To make humanity visible and capable of moving the heart and the mind is one of theatre’s core missions; in fulfilling it, Marianne Elliott and Miranda Cromwell direct a masterpiece. After a glowing debut at the Young Vic, their Death of a Salesman shines at the Piccadilly Theatre. It’s an intense and personal family drama that digs deep into affections and vulnerability. The performances of each and every member of the cast form the play’s backbone.

Willy Loman (Wendell Pierce) is a salesman. He continuously travels from New York – by car, by train – to earn a decent commission that will pay the bills and support his family. His two sons, Biff (Sopé Dìrísù) and Happy (Natey Jones), are now adults, but with no jobs and no clear prospects for the future. The many years of work are taking their toll on Willy. And in the meantime, an offshoot from the past starts to emerge which seems to fracture the relationship between father and son.

The entangled sequences of misfortunes and memories need time to develop, hence the prolonged running time. While the first act properly sets up all the narrative threads, it is during the second part that the substantial material comes out most vividly.

Past experiences reemerge starkly in the protagonist’s mind. Thanks to some playful lighting and exceptionally fragmented body language, these moments also flow into our main character’s current reality. Descending props further ease this overall feeling of smooth interchanges between real and recollected worlds.

At the centre of this production, there is Pierce, who is fervent and absolutely stunning on stage. His portrait of Willy is fragile and powerful at the same time. He represents a man tired and distressed, justifying his whole situation as an illness, the result of his foolish sons and many years spent on the road. Reflected in him, though, are the faces and spirits of the deluded, tense and tragically disillusioned.

Dìrísù’s pathos increasingly becomes utterly compelling. And the singing choruses, which concentrate at the beginning and at the end, beautifully relieve the tale.

The play leaves us with several points to take home and ponder further, especially on the topic of regret, family support and the meaning of help in a state of mental disorder. The acting exudes passion and an impelling desire to tell the story, with neither pity nor preaching, but just the bare exposition of a confident man and the spiral of degeneration triggered by his actions.

- Read the article on The Upcoming -

Dates: 24 October 2019 - 4 January 2020
Venue: Piccadilly Theatre

Translations: a tale of clashing cultures

2019-10-24T15:18:00.000+01:00

This article was commissioned by The Upcoming, where it appeared for the first time.

Photo credit: Catherine Ashmore

Words convey more than names or labels for things and actions. Language is a cultural code that encapsulates the story and behaviours of a community. Brian Friel’s Translations tries to give bodies and narrative structure to this concept, still too often taken for granted today.

During the 1824 Ordnance Survey, the British government attempted to map the whole territory of Ireland and convert, once and for all, on paper and approved by law, the enigmatic Gaelic denominations into Englishmen. At the hedge school of Master Hugh (Ciarán Hinds), the military operation is received with some friction; even more so elsewhere, where the linguistic project, together with a reformation of the education system, is considered a further act of British colonial domination. Owen (Fra Fee) collaborates with the cartographer Lieutenant Yolland (Jack Bardoe) as a translator for communications with the local tribes. But there is more than geography to deal with.

The script highlights how control is exercised via standardisation and how connected power and verbal expression are. Rough as they could appear, the Irish protagonists study Latin and Greek, a practice more widespread and common than learning modern English from their not-so-amiable neighbours. The linguistic barrier becomes an obstacle for lovers across borders and a sign of supremacy for the authorities.

In his middle man role, Fra Fee injects humour and delightful enthusiasm. As much as sounds and pronunciation, an important role is played by silence, sign language, and the inability to speak, all personified in Sarah by a delicate Liadán Dunlea. Dermot Crowley and Ciarán Hinds are the sturdy supporting columns of this production: their characters represent heritage and roots, and they perform respectively a totally amusing companion and a poised tutor.

Even given the considerable efforts of the talents involved, this remains largely a drama of inaction, with active sequences only starting to build towards the end of the first act. The second part is definitely more substantial, having left the rather prolonged introduction to the story – with its village gossip and the daily affairs of farming – behind. The setting is left simple, with a natural uncultivated background and lights that mimic the changing of the weather.

It is telling to see again on stage – after its first sold-out run last year – such a compelling tale of clashing cultures and the importance of the people’s language at this moment in history. Translations is a splendid show that brings the theatregoer’s attention to our words and the humanity they contain.

- Read the article on The Upcoming -

Dates: 15 October - 18 December 2019

Venue: National Theatre

The Life I Lead: high-spirited insight into a childhood memory

2019-09-20T19:16:00.000+01:00

This article was commissioned by The Upcoming, where it appeared for the first time.

Photo credit: Piers Foley

Old and new generations will hardly forget one of the first and most iconic of classic Disney movies: Mary Poppins. The stern yet finally redeemed anti-hero of the film, Mr Banks, had the moustachioed face of David Tomlinson. The man, despite a prolific career in theatre and cinema, left a mark in history and in the hearts of audiences of every age, principally for that one role – and possibly also for Professor Browne in Bedknobs and Broomsticks. Kettle’s new play takes theatregoers behind the scenes for a look at the untold story, the real-life events of the actor that couldn’t be broadcast. The difficult beginning on stage, the awkward silences with the father, the strange diagnosis given by the hospital for his son, the warm friendship with Walt Disney: everything rolls smoothly in this moving one-man show.

Miles Jupp wears many hats, in addition to the typical bowler of Tomlinson, complete with all the little fingers tricks and hops that the actor performed when taking it on and off. There are fewer impersonations in the first part of the show, but in the second act more dialogue allows the fictitious characters to be better sustained. The very beginning, which is an introductory summary of the main elements of Tomlinson’s life, feels a bit confused and goes on too long before the actual narration – the “look back”, from 1930 – starts. The various episodes then flow well, including memories of America and the war.

Noteworthy work has been done on the script to give the tragic and more difficult moments a softer tone. Drama, in various forms, has been present in Tomlinson’s life, and it has inevitably shaped his sensitive attitude. The way Kettle writes about it doesn’t highlight the heaviness, rather the courage and the strength of the man to carry on and find a way to deal with it.

The Magritte-inspired set design removes the actor from any specific context, putting him in a sort of environment all by himself in order that he may enter the realm of the surreal. Jupp delivers a very good performance, keeping up the moderate pace with jokes and that quintessentially British poised humour.

The Life I Lead is a high-spirited insight into Tomlinson’s life, exploring the hidden existence behind the shared childhood memory and presenting a humanity worth discovering.

- Read the article on The Upcoming -

Dates: 16-21 September 2019
Venue: Wyndham’s Theatre, as part of the UK tour

Forgetting Heledd: meditative rage

2019-08-08T01:08:00.000+01:00

This article was commissioned by The Upcoming, where it appeared for the first time.

There are many elements of her late-teen life that scare and excite Heledd at the same time. The turning point comes with her mother’s diagnosis of dementia. The degenerative disease casts a coercive shadow of doom and bitterness over both the present and near future of the girl, whose family, at the moment of the medical verdict, seems to have been forgotten by the public services and the government. That is until a sort of vague new beginning arrives in the form of a charity and Heledd’s life-changing accident.

The stage is simply scattered with photographs, upside down on the floor or hanging against the wall, representing memories lost and put on display. The script doesn’t reveal anything excessively disruptive. It flows – mostly thanks to a well-sustained rhythm – but there are times where it feels a bit like a teenager’s vent in the body of a fully grown adult. However, the show is a sturdy single act of rage that reflects the mood of its protagonist. With a spectrum of scenes featuring everything from swearing to energetic singing moments, the role of Heledd is on its way towards a deep and fully-rounded maturity. It may appear even slightly too grown up at the starting point, but then gradually all the pieces of her sensitive personality become clear as the motivations and pre-diagnosis decisions are confessed. There are also few tender moments, particularly in the care home, that are really worth waiting for.

The play is neither completely rose-tinted nor sorrowful: its strength lies in the balanced variety of scenes, flashbacks and projections, featuring invisible characters who have distinctive voices in this chapter of the girl’s story. Hannah Dando is the absolute protagonist of the stage, and not just in the literal sense – she plays all the parts on her own, occasionally wearing different hats to have the unseen speakers interacting – but also because of the way she superbly holds the show. Now shedding a tear, now cunningly winking at her mother, she is thunderous. The Heledd Dando gives life to jumps from the page to resonate in the hearts and feelings of the audience.

- Read the article on The Upcoming -

Dates: 29 July - 5 August 2019, as part of Camden Fringe Theatre
Venue: Camden People’s Theatre

Jesus Christ Superstar: a heavenly work soaked in humanity

2019-07-14T10:01:00.000+01:00

This article was commissioned by The Upcoming, where it appeared for the first time.

Photos: Johan Persson

The life and death of Jesus get a real superstar makeover in Timothy Sheader’s production, currently transferring indoors after its 2016’s award-winning debut. And this second London round divinely meets those expectations. The show is a triumph of energy and astonishing vocal performances, unforgettable for its excess and intoxicating vibrancy.

Having gained a substantial following who believe he will finally fight the Roman dominion, Jesus (Robert Tripolino) is raising the suspicion and fears of the high priests as he teaches about love and carries out miracles in Jerusalem. Judas (Ricardo Afonso), let down by the Messiah, who doesn’t match up to his leadership ideals, plots to sell his master to the authorities and help re-establish order.

Tim Rice’s stimulating lyrics take centre stage as the singing is exalted over all the other elements. The main actors literally pick up a mic in their one-to-one numbers. The prop emphasises the concert-like frame into which the script is inserted, but it often feels clumsy in its movements. However, the trick is forgiven and it works in a way because all the voices are breathtaking: from the high-pitched Tripolino to the smooth Afonso, from the soulful Sallay Garnett to the robust Matt Cardle. The performers impressively work as a unique body, a well-oiled machine delivering on the pulsating rhythm with enviable stamina.

Trying to distance itself from the famous movie versions, this Jesus Christ Superstar is not simply modern but quite visionary, taking full advantage of the more personal engagement of the theatre setting – the glittery details teetering on the kitsch; the flashy and hazy backdrop supporting the atmosphere; the riveting dancers superbly creating the exhilarating movements that the rock score demands. The band playing live from the top floor of the scaffolding is pure rhapsody: the opening electric guitar is nothing less than the perfect note to start such a thrilling staging as this. The disciples and Jesus himself also take up this musical instrument as a laid back boyband.

Samuel Buttery’s flamboyant act as Herod, the gold-laden accessories of the Pharisees, the sensual Mary Magdalene, the bright colours present on stage – through both the lights and the costumes – are among the decisions that make this a bold production. It adds flesh to the tale of the Gospel, resulting in an accessible and thought-provoking story for all, for this time: a heavenly work captivatingly soaked in humanity.

- Read the article on The Upcoming -

Dates: 4th July - 24th August 2019
Venue: Barbican

Starry Messenger: wonders in the midst of banality

2019-06-08T08:30:00.000+01:00

This article was commissioned by The Upcoming, where it appeared for the first time.

Photo credit: Marc Brenner

With his melancholically funny style, Kenneth Lonergan presents the story of tedious astronomer Mark as the man’s life is shaken unexpectedly and slowly by the unclear design of the stars. In the monotonous existence of the Starry Messenger’s protagonist, we witness many passers-by defeated whilst waiting for a twist towards the better.

Trying to make ends meet while tending his childhood passion, Mark (Matthew Broderick), married to Anne (Elizabeth McGovern), teaches extra hours on evening courses at the New York Planetarium. The building, soon to be closed, has been the place where many, including the protagonist, discovered their love for the infinite skies. At the end of one of his classes, he meets Angela (Rosalind Eleazar), a young single mother, a catholic nurse-in-training who seems to wake Mark from the slumber he has fallen into.

Galileo’s titular treatise Sidereus Nuncius put into writing astronomical evidence obtained through actual vision, debunking unfounded theories. Drawing a fine line, the playwright exposes in this piece of theatre how dreams and desires, leaps of imagination, can unexpectedly be opened in the midst of banality. Mark doesn’t believe in anything, and it is in this atheistic and passive position that wonders happen.

The first part of the play, which aims to render the dull routine and ineptitude of the main character to its extreme, drags extremely slowly, unveiling a certain weakness. The efforts of Broderick to portray the insecure Mark are remarkable, but they don’t always coordinate with the rest of the cast. For some members, the characters simply appear too big for them to be efficiently delivered with the right balance of energy.

During the second part, the rhythm partially increases. More humorous lines and situations keep up the pace, and the people around the protagonists take more of the stage. The ones catching most of the attention are Jenny Galloway as the torrential Mrs Psyner, Jim Norton as the droll Norman and Sid Sagar as the very self-conscious Ian.

The dynamism and details of the set design by Chiara Stevenson are extraordinary. The rotating scenography, with a clear distinction between familiar surroundings and the classroom, is an appropriate match to the ever-changing and open spaces of the astronomical theme. The loud violin segments are less fitting, although all the rest of the music finds its place pretty well.

- Read the article on The Upcoming -

Dates: 16th May - 10th August 2019

Venue: Wyndham’s Theatre

The Lehman Trilogy: monumental play on brotherhood and dreams

2019-05-25T12:30:00.000+01:00

This article was commissioned by The Upcoming, where it appeared for the first time.

Photo credit: Mark Douet

If you thought the cold and calculated world of finance was miles away from the generation of good human theatre, The Lehman Trilogy superbly proves the contrary. Three acts cunningly intersected, exquisitely choreographed and impressively performed paint the birth, development and collapse of one of the biggest investment banks in the United States, and possibly the world.

Henry (Simon Russell Beale), Emanuel (Ben Miles) and Mayer (Adam Godley) Lehman are three Jewish brothers who, one after the other, migrate to the land of their dreams: America. Emigrating from their hometown in Bavaria, they establish their cotton business in Montgomery, Alabama. The siblings progress their empire, rebuilding and growing when tragedies occur, flourishing and strengthening thanks to their incredible talent and extreme flexibility within ever-moving times. As the business changes hands from the genius son to the hard-working grandson, onto the Hungarian trader and so on, the firm’s glittering success is tarnished, first fractured by 1929’s crumbling economy and then later crushed under the 2008 stock market crash.

The play is a perfect balance of narration and dialogue. Despite the unusually long running time, the production flows seamlessly and engagingly, with next to no dull moments. The driving engine is obviously the giant actors on stage, who, still wearing the elegant 19th-century suits of the founding brothers throughout, play a lively multitude of parts. To be asked to point out who is the best would be like asking a parent to pick their favourite child. The many funny roles portrayed by Beale may be the ones that best capture the audience’s sympathy. But Godley’s wise characters and sleek intermediaries and Miles’s rigorous and vehement expressions are irreplaceable, making this trio simply outstanding.

There are quite a few moments which risk becoming pretentious, but the script turns the tone swiftly enough to escape every single time. The inclusion of traditions, family relationships and a generous dose of humour make this theatre piece far more than a well-told chronology of the Lehman Brothers company. It brings the colossal bank down to earth from their unreachable glass palace: men among men, united, a family business who identified the winning ticket where others would have been mystified.

The production couldn’t be so impressive without the cubic set design of Es Devlin, which includes black and white landscape video projections in the background by Luke Halls. All the elements combine, threaded together by the dramatic, piano-based music of Nick Powell. The Lehman Brothers is a symphony: powerful, authentic, and fascinating. It is a story about cleverness but also about brotherhood and dreams; a truly American narrative devised through a monumental production.

- Read the article on The Upcoming -

Dates: 11th May - 31st August 2019

Venue: Piccadilly Theatre

After all: grief reload

2019-04-07T16:02:00.003+01:00

There may be a musical sequence to express any kind of feelings: happiness, sadness, anger, excitement. Being humans all different, if the right tune is not out there already, we are capable of producing it ourselves, and likely to go through a cathartic process in the making. That’s what Alex – protagonist of After All - has experienced after his brother’s death, as he discovered and tried music therapy. The last resource he recurred to in order to cope with grief, it proved not only good for bereavement, but it enabled him to communicate his story more openly.

Raw material in the form of notes and acting: Michael Brazil, the artist behind this one-man show, experiments with diverse storytelling techniques to accompany the audience through Alex’s journey of depression and healing. The 45 minutes performance at the Actors Centre this April is the latest product of a work in progress, aiming at a one-hour long production and possibly a complete musical.

The content comes from a mix of personal experiences, research, and stories of friends and family members, all combined in the life of Alex, who accompanied his brother to a clinic for assisted dying and then had to face the challenging reality of solitude and depression. The protagonist unexpectedly and gradually found solace in musical instruments. Actually, the simple beating of a drum stroke the eureka moment. It is interesting how Michael builds up his theatre piece around this point, like gently taking the theatregoers by hand to rediscover with him how the resounding of just a single note can release that longed feeling of relief.

The route the audience is invited to is not very cheerful, be warned. There is a pause from the melancholy reflection in an uplifting bucket list where a small break of the forth wall allows the people in the room to take part in the act as well. But more humour scattered along the way would be greatly beneficial. However, the authenticity and unprocessed form in which the story is presented reveal the strong desire to share and prompt open discussions about personal difficulties and sad emotions. To make this story more accessible, the method chosen is music, the universal language. On stage, Michael embraces autoharp, zither, ukulele, a drum, producing simple musical patterns to lead the narration.

There is need of more and more voices to speak about mental health and to remind how arts can provide a valuable support and means of communication. A show like After All, which viscerally combines the two, is highly welcomed. With some months ahead to get ready, there is to be looking forward to Brazil’s performance at the PBH’s Edinburgh Free Fringe Festival 2019.

Dates: 5-6 April 2019

Venue: The Actors Centre / John Thaw Studio

Thanks to Michael Brazil and Theatre Bloggers for the invite.

Alys, Always: rocketing social climb

2019-03-07T20:38:00.000+00:00

This article was commissioned by The Upcoming, where it appeared for the first time.

Photo Credit: Helen Maybanks

Watching fame and glamour pass by while real talent and kindness go unnoticed: the story of Frances (Joanne Froggatt) is the same of many, or in fact the great majority of people – basically, all the ordinary crowd. A car crash occurs during a miserable return journey to London, and the unsatisfied sub-editor of The Questionnaire happens to be introduced to the Kytes, a wealthy family whose head, Laurence (Robert Glenister), is a renowned author.

The play follows the rocketing social climb of Frances – in the office, in her relationships, in upgraded heavenly holidays. Is the protagonist a cold, manipulative mind or a woman justly vindicating the positions and benefits she deserves from life?

The audience assists in the seamless transformation of the subject from a hectic and slightly anxious worker to an unwavering fox. In its simplicity, the plot is intriguing. For a thriller, however, the script lacks that extra gripping factor that holds the attention and the breath of theatregoers. The dialogues could have been tightened in some places so as to shorten the running time, but as it is, after the first part the story risks recounting a series of foreseeable sequences.

Photo Credit: Helen Maybanks

What really helps to keep up the pace are the scattered jokes. Mocking, odd references – and essentially, almost all the lines of Sylvestra Le Touzel – add just the right touch of humour.

With her head in the clouds and her childlike behaviour, Leah Gayer is a delight to watch. She makes her Polly a convincing character, spoiled and very naive. Froggatt’s performance is driven, although at times quite restrained by the two-dimensional part, especially when impersonating the narrator of the story within the story. However, She certainly gets the credit for leading the play, which succeeds in its aim to give the impression of a one-woman-show.

Particular praise is due to the set designer, Bob Crowley, for the moving staging which shifts and overlaps smoothly, both at the front of the space and in the background. The semi-transparent wall – which first divides the scene in two, then hides in the dark behind the action – stands up as the perfect canvas for ambient projections by Luke Halls.

Alys, Always turns out to be a light drama. The story catches some empathetic notes as it puts the spotlight on the ever-unresolved dilemmas of fame, the invisibility of the good, an all-too-common lack of recognition and our lust for success.

- Read the article on The Upcoming -

Dates: 25th February - 30th March 2019
Venue: Bridge Theatre

A Private War: intense portrait of Marie Colvin

2019-02-15T12:06:00.000+00:00

This article was commissioned by The Upcoming, where it appeared for the first time.

It seems like a blessing after a screening of A Private War to be able to walk out and freely breathe fresh air. Thousands of civilians, aid workers and members of the military forces cannot escape so easily from the horrors vividly represented in Matthew Heineman’s movie. This intense portrait of Marie Colvin is conveyed through exceptional visuals, standout performances and is guided towards a touching finale with an original song by Annie Lennox.

Colvin (Rosamund Pike) is a renowned American war correspondent for The Sunday Times. In 2001, she flew to Sri Lanka to cover an untold civil war, as a result of which she lost her left eye. The black bandage used as an eyepatch becomes a symbol of the extreme courage and intrepid stubbornness of its wearer. At the same time, however, internal demons from the death and violence witnessed arise in the journalist, forcing her to reflect more and more on her work, and inciting deeper discussions with the editor (Tom Hollander) as well as a closer friendship with photographer Paul Conroy (Jamie Dornan). Back to the frontline, Marie moves from London to Afghanistan, then onto Libya and finally Syria, where she is among the very few foreign press members denouncing what continues today to be one of the bloodiest civil wars of all time.

The angle adopted to tell the tale of Colvin’s last years follows and mimics the same approach that made the reporter an incredible storyteller: the human interest story. “People connect with people” and “I want to tell your story” sound like statements coming right from the journalist’s manual, and they find correspondence in the poignant close-ups of children’s eyes and the faces of grieving women.

Avoiding the sadly routine coverage of conflicts, the photography by Robert Richardson works instead on the details and medium shots. There are, of course, some gruesome scenes, but they grow with the narrative, building to a climax and becoming a truly compassionate element in Marie’s story.

The change in the surrounding panorama, from the sparkle of the city to the rubble of the warzones, is effective. The clashing closeness of such different lives makes for a subtle moral reproach relatable to all. More forthright is the intent behind the protagonist’s narration, which could have been better integrated into the dialogue.

Some extra time would have been beneficial in further acknowledging the role of post-traumatic stress disorder and the subsequent recovery of the reporter. Though the condition – which has only relatively recently been openly recognised – is clearly labelled and addressed in the movie, it would have been a more effective conclusion had the feature further followed the healing process and the interactions between characters around this central topic.

Pike is fiercely stunning. She plays the tough Colvin – complete with all her tics and perpetually puffing on a cigarette – with decision and the needed emotive charge. Dornan, in the role of friend and colleague Conroy, also stands out for his performance. Together, they compellingly embody a fierce passion for the job and the strong relationships that are forged in difficult times.

A Private War is released nationwide on 15th February 2019.

- Read the article on The Upcoming -

Until the Lions, Akram Khan Company: epic dance of humanity

2019-01-14T23:25:00.000+00:00

This article was commissioned by The Upcoming, where it appeared for the first time.

Photos: Jean-Louis Fernandez

In a perfect circle of birth and return, Until the Lions is back for the end of its tour at the Roundhouse, where it first premiered in January 2016. Akram Khan’s work is a splendid piece of art, conjuring vivid images of love and rage in a vigorous dance of humanity.

The narrative comes from the book Until the Lions: Echoes from the Mahabharata, where poet Karthika Naïr envisions the stories of minor characters in the Mahabharata, one of the major epics of ancient India. Among them, there is princess Amba (Ching-Ying Chien), daughter of the King of Kashi, abducted on the day of her wedding by Bheeshma (Akram Khan), a warrior who has made a vow of celibacy and who takes the woman for his half-brother. But she is refused by this latest suitor as she is already in love with someone else, who, in turn, refuses her as well because won by another man. Amba is unmarriable and alone. A woman in search of justice, not heard, she now seeks revenge in another reincarnation.

Although sounding rather a convoluted plot, the beauty of this production lies in its smooth movements and dramatic energy. Mixing together kathak and contemporary dance, with influences from martial arts, Khan creates impressive sequences. The actions are evocative of undefeated spirits, in fervent attempts of love and in a vehement preparation for battle. There is intense fury but also extreme elegance in the perfect interpretation and coordination of the performers.

Photos: Jean-Louis Fernandez

Ching-Ying Chien is a sublime blend of grace and fierce resistance. She is power, despite her current outcast position in society. Her counterpart Joy Alpuerto Ritter is the androgynous-looking equivalent of Amba, gifted with a pinch of extra male savagery and more measured steps.

In the increasing tension of the story, one of the best sections is towards the end, when all three dancers carry out wide movements in parallel, perfectly intersecting one with the other.

Devised for a 360-degree stage, the production liberates both sound and movement, completely opening up this ancient world to the audience. The performance is immersive in its emotionally charged material and the multiple artistic elements involved. Halfway through, when the show seems to be all about the visual figures created by the dancers, the four musicians along the perimeter of the stage catch the attention with an incredible set of vocals and rousing percussions, terrifically mixed with electro sounds. The setting and the all-encompassing lights from above contribute to creating a suggestive atmosphere – somewhere in between a wood, a desert and a royal palace.

Until the Lions is an enrapturing and expertly crafted dance, stirring up primordial emotions and, as such, able to talk to contemporary generations as powerfully as it must have at the time of its composition – as only great epics can.

- Read the article on The Upcoming -

Dates: 11-17 January 2019
Venue: Roundhouse

Drowned or Saved?: tormented memory of the past

2018-11-10T20:51:00.000+00:00

This article was commissioned by The Upcoming, where it appeared for the first time.

Photo Credit: Ewa Ferdynus

When does the researching of explanations becomes an unforgiving hunting of the past? Moving from the the reflections and life of its protagonist, Drowned or Saved?, the new play by Geoffrey Williams, depicts the depth and pain of Primo Levi’s last days.

A survivor of the Auschwitz concentration camp, Levi, a writer and chemist, is intent on finishing his last book, transcribing the stories and his thoughts of his experience in Poland. The call of the suffering characters gives him sleepless nights and he retreats ever further into his gloomy studio. His worried wife, Lucia, and the housekeeper, Mrs Giordanino, are the only sporadic, real human presences in the house. Levi receives, instead, many visits from Elijah and other ever-vivid memories.

The play aims to open to the audience the tormented yet lucid mind of the writer. Despite the sunny days of Turin and the proximity of his loved ones, what happened during the years of the Second World War has left permanent scars that the scientist tries to face and to rationalise through his writing.

Photo Credit: Ewa Ferdynus

The composition of the drama is achieved through few devices, some more successful than others. First of all, the lighting, which plays with shadows and different colourful beams and creates and dismantles the various mental and actual spaces Levi goes to. The music, although present only at certain points, adds a redundant emphasis. The mix of languages used, with English as the main one, alternating from time to time with lines in Italian and German, is a pleasant blending that highlights the warmth of a familiar environment versus the doom of death and tortures from the past, represented by the different speeches.

With the wooden shelves in the background and the calm lighting of the desk lamp in the foreground, the homey setting is filled with the screams and gasping of the prisoners as different events are recollected. These scenes between truth and memory flow one into the other, and out again.

The posed expressions and the soft tone of Marco Gambino perfectly communicate the heavy emotional load of Levi. Alex Marchi, who wears different hats as Elijah, Rabbi, Alex and more, is outstanding. He brings energy to the piece as he swiftly changes into different characters. He is a truly driving force.

The show takes its time to really allow a full immersion into the story, but once it reaches its peak, this emotionally challenging theatre piece awakens our common duty not to forget.

- Read the article on The Upcoming -

Dates: 6-24th November 2018
Venue: Tristan Bates Theatre

It tastes like home, Divergent Theatre Collective: foodie attractions

2018-10-26T23:45:00.000+01:00

There is love for food and food that multiplies the love. When these mix with different world cultures, home, and upbeat music, It tastes like home is born.

The musical - written by Lorna Wells, directed by Roman Berry and with music by Eudora Yutong Qiao -, brings to the stage questions and feelings of the new generation of migrants. With London as the promising land of dream-come-true in the background, the young protagonists still struggle with daily criticism and rebukes from the community where they live and their own families.

Yi (Jarrod Lee) helps his parents at the Chen’s restaurant in Soho, serving delicious Chinese food. Thought by his mother to be a temporary occupation, being in the kitchen is actually the most enjoyable activity for the boy, who even runs a successful cooking vlog. Camilla (Melissa Parke), of Jamaican descendant, is a frequent customer. A training teacher, she would like to keep her career in the classroom as a part time job, together with cooking workshops. The two fall in love with each other, but, even in our modern progressive society, relationships that cross the borders and aim to realise their passions can have tough times at home.

The play draws from both the cultures represented: Chinese and Jamaican. From the predominant red and green colours of the two households, to the stressed accents and more or less loose interactions.

It is a battle between traditions, all set in the gentrified and multiracial British society, which, in truth, has also its contradictions. The topic of Brexit couldn’t be avoided, and the belief of different somatic traits undeniably indicating a foreigner is discussed. The prejudices and acceptance difficulties faced by migrants and their children are critical in the parents’ judgements.

Trying to visually represent the distance and points of contact of the characters, the stage design clearly differentiates the two families and the restaurant becomes the middle ground. In between platforms and table, movements of the actors seem at times a bit constraint, but it is easily forgiven as the focus of the play goes to the songs.

The music mimics as much as possible tunes from the two continents. The male voices definitely steal the show. Jarrod Lee proves to be wonderfully able to reach a good range of tones. Capturing the attention mostly for his jokes, Daniel Grant has the right aplomb for the situation, although his singing skills feel they needed more space.

This tasty celebration of diversity plays on the joyful combination of our differences, still reminding the audience the hurdles misconceptions can create towards each other.

Dates: 16-27th October 2018

Venue: The Bread & Roses Theatre

Thanks to Roman Berry for the invite.

Marathon, Alan Fielden with JAMS: disrupted storytelling

2018-09-23T18:30:00.000+01:00

This article was commissioned by The Upcoming, where it appeared for the first time.

Photo Credit: Camilla Greenwell

It has been proved that the now common use and abuse of technology and the modern fragmented reading habits the online infinite world is getting us accustomed to, in the long-term, lead to short-memory and lack of lasting focus.

And that is exactly what the protagonists of Marathon are experiencing in this new experimental theatre piece.

Alan, Sophie, Malachy and Jemima are trying to re-enact the Greek myth of the man who ran across two countries to deliver to the King the message of the army’s defeat. Near the frontline, the people seem not to be aware of the conflict, and the communication is a real struggle. The rehearsals for the play are harder than what is foreseen, as the memories of parts of the group’s past performance of their show emerge randomly and, even in a collective attempt to remember, the sequences appear inconsistent and confused.

A characteristic technique used by the company, winner of the Oxford Samuel Beckett Theatre Trust Award, is the creation of the production through jamming, thus the narrative is intrinsically threaded with sounds.

The music element is a great feature of this work, from the clapping to the mimicking noises made by mouth to the live music. Though there is a melodious flow to the work, having a lot of pauses and silences cutting through the play risks plunging proceedings into an excessively slow rhythm.

Photo Credit: Helen Murray

The root of the disjointed stage practice is identified quite late in the piece. The toil of the characters and their difficulties even in interacting among themselves are very well performed, but it would have benefited the show to scatter a couple more references about the origin of their problem across the runtime.

The four actors operate the lights, move the props and set the special effects themselves, as a real work-in-progress is opened up to the audience.

On the stage, there are yellow foils theatregoers may recognise from recent news bulletins as the blankets used to cover the rescued migrants; there are other subtle, effective uses of these technical aspects, like the kitch neon light signalling the presence of corpses, or the smoke hiding and making (in)visible the depicted mental confusion. The curated presence of these objects, without being too overwhelming, is a wonderful communicative extra.

In its broken staging, Marathon provides a scary representation of the development of our super-efficient, multi-tasking habits and is an acute, multi-faceted representation of our fragmented society.

Paradoxical sequences spur laughs from time to time, however, they are always pointing to likely scenarios we may all be subject to one day.

- Read the article on The Upcoming -

Dates: 20—29 September 2018
Venue: Barbican

Tokyo Fugue, tarinainanika: train of thoughts and movements

2018-08-24T01:25:00.001+01:00

Photo Credit: A. Clark

We’ve all been there: rushing down the stairs, elbowing the crowd to get off at the right station, dozing as soon as a seat is available - or even while standing. Big cities cannot escape the problem of modern overflowing of people in the travelling network, neither London, nor Tokyo can.

Through the “art of the thinking body” - as Corporal Mime can be described -, tarinainanika adds to the Camden Fringe programme a performance made of feelings, thoughts, and dreams. Tokyo Fugue, currently at The Cockpit theatre - likely to tour soon around the country and beyond -, aims to deliver an experience with the use of multimedia material and magnetic body movements. It is not a matter of dance or coordinated actions, rather a language that finds its new way through the human figure.

As the lights go down, the background screen and a spotlight turns on. An actor positions himself on the stage, first sitting on one of the three empty white chairs. Then, as confused sounds get mixed with classic music, free movements become jerky. Soon he is joined by two members.

The three chairs and a couple of little black notebooks are all the props and scenography elements used.

Photo Credit: A. Clark

If on one side the lack of plot gives free rein to spontaneous associations, on the other it may leave the audience quite disoriented, especially when not used at all to mime. The packed one hour show is indeed a continuous flow of physical expressions that sway between the dreamlike realm and true tangible reality. The only link connecting them all are the trains, expected, signalled, arriving, and departing.

Dialogues overheard, encounters never happened, phone calls breaking up, rush hour traffic on the escalator: anything that can be thought in the environment of stations is pulled together here, seen through the lens of half-sleeping souls. Thus, all the facts and reactions are slowed down and perceived ampler, with questions keeping on tapping and echoing. The final result is quite hazy, if added to the absence of a narration.

There are very few sequences conveying the cliché hustle and bustle, especially when the three actors cross and line up in rapid turns. The performance is more about all the untold, the undone, and the imagined happening inside the minds and in the few disordered interactions with the other people on the train.

Image: A. Clark

On the backdrop, stylised images of platforms, trains passing by, and rails are projected, generally with the alienating effect given by people’s backs and backwards motions.

The music intertwines mostly with indistinct sounds of the tracks, producing a sort of calming effect in this normally frenzy climate.

It is difficult to imagine how long it must have been taken to Kentaro Suyama, Tania Coke, and Toshihiko Nishimura (the three performers) to become such a perfect organism on the move. Their gestures, their calculated interlocking, and paced steps are fascinating, and looking like the most natural acts. They are precise though smooth and their coordination is incredible.

There are cues, like the advertisements, that prompt the theatregoers to identify with the scenes. They help to make more familiar the otherwise totally unusual events happening, make it easier for the audience to empathise and almost remember with the performers “I have been here before.” We may not be fully conscious, present with all our senses on the way and in the middle of our commutes, but Tokyo Fugue physically renders those chaotic inner impressions and feelings for us.

Dates: 23-26th August 2018
Venue: The Cockpit

Thanks to Theatre Bloggers for the invite.