There Ought To Be Clowns

Review: She Stoops to Conquer, National Theatre

2012-01-26T22:56:00.000-08:00

“Ask me no questions and I'll tell you no fibs"

Oliver Goldsmith’s 18th century comedy She Stoops to Conquer was last seen at the National Theatre in 2002 in an Out of Joint co-production, but has now been revived by the seemingly tireless Jamie Lloyd with a star-studded ensemble dripping with talent, both established and new, and breathing an entirely fresh energy into the Olivier theatre.

This comedy of manners centres on the Hardcastle clan, a family of means in the country: daughter Kate is due to be married off to young Marlow, the son of a friend of Mr Hardcastle's but she is determined to ensure the match is to her liking; Mrs Hardcastle is determined to have her heiress ward Miss Neville married off to her own son Tony in order to keep her fortune in the family though Miss Neville's attentions are focused on Marlow's friend Hastings. But when Marlow and Hastings get lost on their way from London and end up in a bawdy inn frequented by Tony, he espies an opportunity to make mayhem and sets in chain a series of mischiefs, misunderstandings and mistaken identities as convoluted courtships and class differences collide in the countryside.

In some respects, this is a fairly straight production, there's no overly tricksy central conceit or left-field interpretation foisted upon the action to try and make it a timely state-of-the-nation revival. Rather, Lloyd infuses energy into the show by punctuating scenes with bursts of percussive, wordless singing from the servants - it's warmly silly stuff but serves well to heighten the richly comic mood. Ben and Max Ringham's music fits in perfectly alongside Yvonne Milner's beautifully designed and constructed costumes, dresses and peacoats in glorious colours and sumptuous fabrics, and Mark Thompson's set evoking the echoing, faded grandeur of the Hardcastles’ manor and briefly utilising the revolve to shift locations to an inn and a rather spooky garden. And though we're still in preview territory, there's a great tautness to proceedings and the vast majority of comic beats hit full on. The minor criticism comes with the interval coming a little bit late, especially as there's a point earlier on where the production feels like it is coming to a natural pause and then continues, and there was a slight loss of energy and verve towards the end as each strand resolves itself though this could be the play as much as anything.

There really is an embarrassment of riches in this cast though which lifts the production from being just a funny play into something special. Whether it is Sophie Thompson’s expressions of outrage or slightly too deep curtseys or Steve Pemberton’s blustering indignation as Mrs and Mr Hardcastle whose hospitality is stretched as they each try and steer the course of young love to their advantage; David Fynn’s oafish and delightfully crude Tony Lumpkin repeatedly missing the point; or an ensemble that includes such up-and-coming musical theatre names as Terry Doe, Zoe Rainey and Amy Booth-Steel.

But the attention is mainly on the four leads (at least when Sophie Thompson isn’t stealing it) and rightly so. Katherine Kelly (fresh from leaving Coronation Street and looking very pretty as a brunette) sparkles as the spirited Kate who is more than ready to be saucy when needs be, and is well-matched with Cush Jumbo (whom I’ve loved both times I’ve seen her at the Royal Exchange in Manchester - Pygmalion and a truly revelatory As You Like It) in scintillating form as cousin and ally Constance Neville. Superficially, they may swish coquettishly in their frocks but also present a steely determination to exercise as much power as they can over their destinies, even as society tries to determine it for them – Jumbo particularly excellent at the pained realisation that all her effort may have been for nought.

And then there’s Harry Hadden-Paton and John Heffernan as Marlow and Hastings, the would-be suitors who are led a merry dance from the off and are both, in their different ways, outrageously hilariously brilliant. Played as extraordinary fops, I loved the scene where they were comparing notes on the best outfits in which to make the ideal first impression, the pair bounce off each other with great camaraderie throughout. Hadden-Paton amuses as the tongue-tied buffoon who can’t even look at a woman of his own class but is a scream when presented with the opportunity to rakishly rut with a barmaid, his toff-gone-wild antics terrifyingly realistic (or one would imagine so at least!). And Heffernan, of whom we are great fans here in case you hadn’t noticed (and whose Richard II last year for the Tobacco Factory far outshone Eddie Redmayne’s if truth be told) reveals a hitherto only-hinted-at gift for comedy with the most playful and witty of performances, his facial expressions in particular are a joy to behold and every utterance of the word 'booby' is to be savoured for its deliciousness.

This was the first time I'd seen this show (although I did see the Howard Goodall/Charles Hart musical adaptation The Kissing-Dance last year so had some familarity with the plot) and so you will have to look elsewhere for comparisons with other productions and whether it takes any liberties with the text or plot etc. What I can tell you is that this is a finely drilled production that shines with comedic gold and effervescent energy and marks a significant success for Jamie Lloyd who has married perfectly his own style to the ethos of the National Theatre's to create something both greater than the sum of its considerable parts and which feels like a potential blueprint for how the NT might introduce a more modern aesthetic to update its house style.

Running time: advertised as 2 hours 30 minutes (with interval), ran closer to 2 hours 45 at this preview

Programme cost: £3

Booking until 28th March

Review: Constellations, Royal Court

2012-01-26T16:51:00.000-08:00

"We have all the time we've always had"

When the Royal Court announced their forthcoming season with two hours notice, I was unable to get online in good time to book any of the beloved £10 Monday tickets for the shows upstairs. Generally speaking, any show at the Royal Court is worth taking a punt on, but I have been exercising a little discretion for once when it comes to the upstairs shows and so I was quite reconciled to the notion having tickets for none of them. But then of course the casting news came in and the revelation that Sally Hawkins and Rafe Spall would be starring in Nick Payne's Constellations meant I had to have a ticket. Karma was good to me though and one random day when browsing the website, limited availability showed up instead of the usual sold out and so I was able to snaffle a ticket for a Thursday matinee - just goes to show it is worth keeping an eye on theatres' websites even when shows are reporting as sold out.

Nick Payne's last play, also upstairs at the Royal Court, was Wanderlust and I have to admit to not caring a great deal for it (part of the reason I wasn't too gutted at not getting tickets in the first instance) but the word of mouth for Constellations had been inescapably good and the anticipation in the room before the start was palpable. Tom Scutt's design puts a raised platform, made of tesselated hexagons, in the centre of the auditorium with seating on all four sides, but fills the ceiling with helium-filled balloons which also escape into the passage that leads into the theatre. And on this platform, Hawkins and Spall play Marianne and Roland, a quantum cosmologist and a beekeeper respectively, whose lives intertwine and intersect in a multitude of ways.

And I mean that quite literally. Playing on the ideas of parallel universes and predetermination that Marianne is studying, scenes are played and then quickly replayed, altering subtly each time with small shifts in emphases rippling out and changing something, everything, maybe nothing. Director Michael Longhurst uses the briefest bursts of sound and flashes of light to play these shifts of universe, which makes it sound much more dramatic than it really is. It feels more like watching the same scene over again just from a different angle each time, as we see different emotions come into play, an alternative slice on the action, the endless realm of possibilities or perhaps the inevitable drive towards the same conclusion.

The play is at its best in these quick replays of short scenes: Payne's writing possesses huge wit and pathos in the way it presents diverging accounts of conversations, confrontations and coincidental meetings. And Hawkins and Spall revel in the opportunities presented to them to play and replay: Spall's proposal scenes are amazing, especially in the beautiful final rendition, and Hawkins' huge openness makes her every utterance and gesture thrillingly unmissable and heartbreakingly real. Together they have great chemistry and make this worth the effort (and there will be effort involved as the run is sold out) to get a ticket however you can.

Running time: 65 minutes (without interval)

Playtext cost: £3

Booking until 11th February

Review: Master Class, Vaudeville

2012-01-24T22:26:00.000-08:00

“Never miss an opportunity to theatricalise”

The obvious place to start with this review of Terrence McNally’s play Master Class is to take note of the fact that following Sharon Gless’ turn in A Round-Heeled Woman, it is now Tyne Daly’s turn as she reprises her Broadway performance as Maria Callas here. But even as it now means that I’ve seen both Cagney and Lacey on the stage, I have never actually seen an episode of Cagney and Lacey! A Round-Heeled Woman has now finished but as Master Class starts up its limited run at the Vaudeville Theatre (this was a preview), I have no hesitations in totally recommending booking for this fabulous show.

Initial signs were not encouraging as Daly’s first arrival on stage was met with rapturous applause, a personal bugbear but something more is going on as the fourth wall was immediately dismantled and it becomes apparent that we in the audience are actually playing a part in the show. Based on a series of master classes that renowned opera singer Maria Callas actually held at Juilliard in the 1970s, we see three students present their efforts for deconstruction by the great diva and by golly does she deconstruct. And we are acknowledged as the audience watching the master class, Callas jokes with us, hectors and exhorts us to embrace her every word and generally folds us into proceedings in the most engaging of manners.

In what emerges as something of a one-woman show, Tyne Daly is just magnificent: imposingly statuesque, almost regal in her bearing in her black trouser suit and Hermès scarf, yet believably fallible as we come to see the price she has paid for her art and what she demands of her students if they are to become what she considers great artists. Daly is exceptional in the classes themselves as McNally focuses on what it was that made Callas so supremely talented as she created fully rounded characters to accompany the singing and thereby produced great drama as well as dramatic singing. As she tears apart her students’ efforts with witheringly harsh critiques and then putting them back together in her style and with her strident guidance, we’re left in no doubt as to just how important this is to her (having prematurely lost her voice).

Given how revelatory these scenes are, it almost seems a shame that McNally had to insert flashbacks into the play as well as she gets lost in a reverie as her charges sing - she recollects her insecurities, her uneasy relationships with her family, her tumultuous affair with Aristotle Onassis, the competitiveness of her rival singers, all these aspects combining to make the woman she has become. Again Daly is fantastic but in the hands of a lesser actress, one could see these scenes flagging dangerously. However she brims with character throughout, whether dispensing fashion advice to get ‘a look’, swaggering around as the shipping magnate or getting heartbreakingly lost in the music as a singer demonstrates the passion she demands.

The support around Daly’s Callas is well judged. Dianne Pilkington, Garrett Sorenson and Naomi O’Connell make a strong set of students: Pilkington garners enormous empathy, Sorenson sings like a dream and making her acting debut, opera singer O’Connell is in blistering form as Sharon, who seriously locks horns with her teacher as a wilful young singer who is far from beholden to La Divina. Jeremy Cohen’s adoring pianist Manny is as cute as a button and Gerard Carey’s unimpressed stagehand is hilarious.

Talking about the show afterwards, an easy connection to make is with the Judy Garland play/musical End of the Rainbow. But where that harnessed a truly sensational performance from Tracie Bennett to a play of variable merit, Stephen Wadsworth’s production is able to draw out more from McNally’s play to create a more rounded piece of theatrical entertainment. If End of the Rainbow was a three star play with a five star leading performance, Master Class would be a four star play with Tyne Daly undoubtedly getting five stars.

Running time: 2 hours 20 minutes (with interval)

Booking until 28th April

Review: Bette and Joan and Baby Jane

2012-01-23T17:25:00.000-08:00

“We’re just two professional dames doing our jobs”

Last year saw Anton Burge’s play Bette and Joan prove something of a success at the Arts Theatre and it is now heading out on a national tour with Anita Dobson and Greta Scacchi reprising their roles this year. But a radio play which played on Radio 4 back in 2010 covered similar ground first and as it was made available to download from the Audiogo website at a most reasonable price, I purchased a copy of Bette and Joan and Baby Jane. The debut radio play by Tracy-Ann Oberman, the story uses the incident-ridden filming of Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? to hang the tale of the deep-seated enmity between its stars Bette Davis and Joan Crawford, how their rivalry played out on the film set and also revisit some of the history between them.

Oberman takes on the role of Crawford herself and Catherine Tate plays Bette Davis: both give great vocal performances but Davis’ inimitable tones are a gift of a role and Tate rises to the challenge superbly, capturing perfectly the clipped Mid-Atlantic voice, often dripping with condescension. We start at the home of newshound Hedda Hopper who has secured an interview with the two women who were taking a huge risk by taking on such a daring project whilst both in something of a career dip. When Hopper can’t get the dirt she is looking for as the bitter relationship between the two was no secret, she takes more furtive means to get the story.

Oberman uses this device cleverly to allow a great deal of story-telling to happen in the dressing rooms of these two leading ladies. Their views of each other are expressed bluntly, their own careers appraised frankly, the realities of being a woman in the highly male-dominated Hollywood industry exposed candidly. And whilst there’s much humour in the clash between ‘actor’ Davis and ‘movie star’ Crawford and the petty games they play on each other, there’s also an underlying sadness at the lengths they have had to resort to in order to survive in the business

Lorelei King’s creeping journalist Hedda is also well judged, reflecting the more cynical side of scoop-hungry celebrity journalism and perpetuating the (sadly still prevalent) assumption that powerful women can’t work together without fighting. It may be justified here for once but still a little depressing at how long that has evidently been a journalistic stand-by. Matt Addis as the nerdish Billy Miller rounds off the cast with an appealing performance which twists nicely in the end.

Given that Bette and Joan beat it onto the stage and the similarities in the ground covered by both, it is hard to see whether Bette and Joan and Baby Jane will make it into theatres, but as it was written as a radio play I don’t know whether that was ever the intention. There’s much fun to be had in watching the antics of Dobson and Scacchi to be sure but for my money, you’d be well off giving Oberman and Tate a listen.

Review: Ethan Frome, Radio 4

2012-01-22T22:20:00.000-08:00

“He felt like he was in another world”

And so my delving into the world of radio drama continues with this adaptation of Edith Wharton’s novella Ethan Frome. Serialised on Radio 4’s Woman Hour as was Possession, this didn’t appear to get the omnibus treatment so I had to listen to it in 15 minute chunks, but by leaving it until it had finished, I was able to listen to them all in one night. To be honest, I find the idea of listening to a part a day quite odd especially as they’re only 15 minutes long, but then the whole world of listening to the radio is alien to me and it obviously works well for them ;-)

Ethan Frome is perhaps not as well known as Wharton’s other works such as The Age of Innocence and The House of Mirth, but actually contains the most autobiographical detail as it took large inspiration from her own sexless marriage and ensuing passionate affair with a younger man. (The story of which is covered in the accompanying Saturday play The Jinx Element which I’ll be listening to next.) And Lin Coghlan’s dramatisation plays on this by making Edith Wharton, voiced here by the incomparable Fenella Woolgar, the narrator of the story.

Set in rural Massachusetts, Ethan Frome is a poor farmer trapped in a miserable marriage to the highly hypochondriac Zeena. When her cousin Mattie Silver arrives to help around the house though, there’s an instant connection between the two which though never acted upon, becomes a burning passion. Zeena’s bitter acuity sense the connection and she seeks to have Mattie replaced by another girl and so Ethan resolves to leave her and start anew with Mattie. But his deep poverty limits their options and the stifling convention of their community make it difficult to cast off his marriage, however unhappy.

It’s all a bit doom-laden and depressed but gorgeously done in Sally Avens’ production. The device of the narrator works perfectly (my antipathy towards to it is slowly melting as it would seem my initial bad experience was the exception rather than the rule) as Woolgar’s empathetic Wharton is compassion personified. And it is impeccably acted: Dominic Mafham’s ever-frustrated Ethan given a new lease of life with the arrival of Jessica Raine’s kindly Mattie, the two dancing around their feelings in the most delicate ways and then finally bursting into beautiful bloom – her laughter as they go sledding down a hill is one of those things of loveliness that ought to be bottled in place of Prozac. And set against them is Laurel Lefkow’s pinched Zeena, sharp as nails and just as uncomfortable in her manipulations, her obsession with the pickle dish is highly believable in its randomness.

It is perhaps too much to say that it is really quite a bitterly heartbreaking story, Wharton pulls no punches in detailing the misery and lack of options that accompanied the desperate poverty of the time, and Ethan Frome ends up reflecting this severity. But this makes for excellent radio drama and combined with the opportunity to hear two actresses I love, Fenella Woolgar and Jessica Raine (whose forthcoming Changeling I am most excited for) plus revisiting the impressive Dominic Mafham, it made for compelling listening.

Review: Sea Wall, Bush Theatre via t’internet

2012-01-22T17:15:00.000-08:00

“I’ve never worn a wetsuit before”

In the midst of all the opinion, and boy was there a lot of it, about Andrew Scott’s performance as Moriarty in the BBC’s Sherlock which has recently had its second series, a fellow (uppity) blogger made me aware of another opportunity to see Scott acting, this time in a filmed version of the play/monologue Sea Wall. This little gem, which is available to either buy or rent from its own little website, originally played at the Bush Theatre and then at the Edinburgh Festival and was written by Simon Stephens especially for Scott.

As others have pointed out, it is difficult to review a monologue effectively without revealing too much and so I will limit what I say here. My recommendation is to give it a whirl regardless of how you feel: if you like Andrew Scott, then you won’t be disappointed, if you think you don’t like him (especially because of Sherlock) then this is guaranteed to change your mind. The set-up is a video diary with Scott often delivering right into the camera, his intense gaze rarely letting go as the story gathers force in reaching its harrowingly dramatic conclusion.

Stephens’ script resounds with the complexity of everyday human existence, allowing Scott to really stretch his acting muscle as Alex and draw us right into his world. Even as unsavoury as it may appear at points, nothing is in here for shock value but rather to show Alex, and by extension all of us, as a flawed person, made up of good parts and bad parts and all too easily damaged. I’m not normally one to be so vague when blogging on here but I do think this is one of those things where you’ll really benefit from going in with as little foreknowledge as possible.

You can download Sea Wall from this site here.

Review: King John, Union

2012-01-21T23:57:00.000-08:00

"Whate'er you think, good words, I think, were best"

Given the ubiquity of productions of Shakespeare’s works in so many of our theatres, and in particular of certain works within the canon, one might assume that those that remain neglected remain so for a very good reason. But director Phil Willmott and the Union Theatre clearly do not agree and after the successful run last year of Double Falsehood, its disputed authorship notwithstanding, they have now turned to a play that was definitely by Shakespeare, but remains very rarely produced in the modern day – King John. They say things come in threes and after having seen Prince John in The Lion in Winter and in the RSC's The Heart of Robin Hood, it seems apt to seen him all grown up in this play, even if it might as well have been three different people for all the continuity of character!

The play is focused on questions of legitimacy as John acceded to the throne at the expense of his nephew Arthur to control the Angevin Empire whose borders stretched far into France due to the land originally held by his mother Eleanor of Aquitaine. But he is not a natural-born leader like his father Henry II or brother Richard the Lionheart and his already tenuous hold on his kingdom is further threatened when the King of France throws his support behind young Arthur and demands his abdication. Thus John is driven to increasingly desperate action as battles rage, noblemen’s loyalties waver and to cap it all off, the Pope is displeased and is considering excommunicating him.

Phil Willmott’s uncluttered production makes remarkably clear sense of a plot which is often dangerously close to convoluted and makes a virtue of its simplicity. A chair and four tables are the only set yet they are endlessly reconfigured to create a grand throne, the ramparts of a castle or a banqueting table stretching the width of the stage; costumes are modern(ish) but non-specific, releasing the play from tightly defined context. This in turn allows the actors to fully focus on fleshing out their characters and drawing out the timeless parallels: the usual Shakespearean array of betrayals, revenge, murder, love and avarice are present but are given a fresh spin by the (relative) unfamiliarity of the story.

The play is at its best when focusing on John as a monarch. There’s no particularly defining characteristic about him, like say Richard III’s hunchback, aside from a ruthless hunger for power but it is this relentless, amoral pursuit that actually strikes home in Nicholas Osmond’s portrayal. Affably normal and likeable at first, there’s little of the regal statesman about him as he tries to charm his way through but as power corrupts him, his demeanour stiffens, the moodswings become darker and his wretchedness exposed in his desperate clinging to power, yet there's still a twinkle in the eye - note the hilarious reaction to his mother's death. He bonds well with Philip the Bastard, his closest man in court and the broadest, most entertainingly fully-rounded character in the show. He’s brought to vivid life by Rikki Lawton, a performance which is close to over-emphatic at times in the small space of the Union but whose energy provides a fillip throughout.

The issue that I found with the play though, and the reason I suspect it has collected so much dust, is its frequent excessive verbiosity, a recurring factor in the lesser History plays. Sometimes in certain scenes, it catches fire as in the magnificent face-off between Eleanor and Constance, mother of Arthur, Maggie Daniels and Samantha Lawson both crackling with fury, and assassin Hubert’s melting at Arthur’s innocence is given heartbreaking form by John Last; at others the actors struggle to impose vivid characterisations on the underdeveloped supporting roles, a lack of depth to so many of them meaning their impact is curtailed despite the good work from the cast. This is a particular shame as there’s so much exploration of ambiguity, both moral and political, hinted at which thus never comes to fruition.

King John is unlikely to ever join the group of Shakespeare plays that are put on time and time again, it lacks too much for that, but where possible, this production of the work has been imbued with a liveliness that results in the play feeling like a darkly tragicomic melodrama rather than a dry history lesson. That this is largely achieved is testament to Willmott’s vision and the sterling work of the company and though not all of it will be to everyone’s taste – I wasn’t a fan of the use of music and the stylised directorial flourish that comes near the end – this is a perfect example of how a very well-judged production can illuminate material of any quality.

Running time: 2 hours 40 minutes (with interval)

Programme cost: £2

Booking until 11th February

Originally written for The Public Reviews

Weekend #2 - Helen McCrory

2012-01-21T09:06:00.000-08:00

I would happily talk about Helen McCrory all day long, she is probably my all-time favourite actress - I think I would travel almost anywhere to see her onstage - and certainly one of the strongest we have working across theatre, film and television. Yet despite all this, she remains slightly under the radar, not many people know who she is by name alone but as her projects become increasingly high-profile, such anonymity cannot last long.

Most people will probably know her as Narcissa Malfoy from the Harry Potter films. She was originally cast as Bellatrix but had to withdraw due to pregnancy allowing Helena Bonham-Carter to take over, which I daresay was perhaps a better choice, though it would have been fascinating to see what she would have done with Bellatrix. Obviously still wanted by the Harry Potter franchise, she took the much smaller role of Draco’s mother in the later films and if you pay attention, it is actually her who saves the world at the end with her actions! She is also now filming the new Bond film Skyfall which fills me with endless excitement though if she is anything less than the new Goldfinger, I will be devastated.

Her work, whether on stage or screen, has the kind of lasting memorable quality that crept up on me rather slowly as I came to realise she is probably one of the finest actors we are blessed to have working. I’ve seen her onstage three times now: in As You Like It, Rosmersholm and The Late Middle Classes, but I’ve been a fan for a long time and so I’m blogging the things that made me fall in love with her: TV shows North Square, Charles II: The Power and the Passion and The Jury, as well as revisiting other things she has been in Frankenstein and Charlotte Gray, and watching a couple of films with her in for the first time, Becoming Jane and Casanova. I may well catch up with her work in other things for a later weekend, but I think this will do for now. So, welcome into the world of one of my obsessions!

DVD Review: North Square

2012-01-21T08:58:00.000-08:00

Part of Helen McCrory Weekend

“Do the thing you have to to get your client off”

Helen McCrory first came to my attention as one of the lead characters in legal ensemble show North Square. Broadcast on Channel 4 in 2000, it featured a cracking ensemble that also included Rupert Penry-Jones, Dominic Rowan and Phil Davis, yet it only had the one series which I don’t think you can get on DVD but it is available to watch on Channel 4’s 4 On Demand service.

Written by Peter Moffat, North Square is a drama set in a criminal chambers in Leeds and centres on a group of young, irreverent barristers all determined to make their mark by using unorthodox methods and unconventional approaches to counter the dusty practices of a legal profession they want to lead into the twenty-first century. They are led by their chief clerk, the highly manipulative Peter McLeish played brilliantly by Phil Davis, who is determined to make a success of this enterprise and has no scruples about negotiating with the criminal families that rule Leeds in order to maximise business opportunities even as it poses a moral quandary for some of the lawyers.

It is this that provides the most dramatic tension in the series as the main long-running storyline that accompanies the self-contained cases that make up the episodes. And pleasingly it is Helen McCrory’s character, the fiercely intelligent and ambitious Rose Fitzgerald, that clashes most with McLeish as she is the one with the biggest problem with the ethics of representing criminals and being so damn good at her job, she’s the one most often at the forefront. Their battles are the best scenes in the show as her quiet fury at being manipulated into situations she is not comfortable in leads her to drastic action against her chief clerk who ends up needing her more than he could ever imagine.

At the beginning of the series, McCrory’s Rose is heavily pregnant and the show also touches on the challenges faced by working mothers but in an interesting way. Rose works right up until giving birth and is back just four days later and though her partner Billy – Kevin McKidd – is a barrister in the same chambers, there is no question of her giving up work as it is widely acknowledged that she is the best lawyer in house. Her relationship with her pupil, the gangly gauche Morag, is also well done as the younger woman tries to learn as much as she can from her mentor and Rose fights her corner against a smooth rival.

But the rest of the show is fun to watch as well as the personal lives of the barristers intertwine with their professional lives as case follows case. Kim Vithana’s struggle to make sure she is being successful on her own terms rather than as a token Asian woman, not helped by her affair with a judge; the travails of Rupert Penry-Jones’ Alex who is more than happy to sleep around in order to secure work and judgements in his favour, even if his girlfriend doesn’t agree - Victoria Smurfit’s Helen an under-developed character to be honest, but she connect well with Dominic Rowan’s nerdishness.

I loved watching North Square again and reminding myself of how much I enjoy watching Helen McCrory’s performances. It is well worth the watch, easily accessible via 4OD and YouTube, and not just because they manage to get Rupert Penry-Jones down to his boxers within the first five minutes of the first episode!

DVD Review: The Jury

2012-01-21T08:53:00.000-08:00

Part of Helen McCrory weekend

"I know first hand the cruelty he’s capable of”

Though North Square was probably the first time I really took notice of Helen McCrory, it was in The Jury that she really stole my heart and for ages, it was this show that I fruitlessly referenced when trying to explain who she was. Written by Peter Morgan, the Jury played on ITV in 2002 over 6 episodes blah following a single court case as a Sikh teenager is accused of killing his 15 year old classmate. But rather than focusing on the case, as the title suggests the attention was the men and women that made up the jury and how the experience affected their lives in a multitude of ways.

McCrory played Rose, a rather nervous woman with an overbearing husband (boo, Mark Strong) who unexpectedly finds a sense of freedom in being allowed out into a new world and seizes the opportunity with both hands. Stuck in a room with people she doesn't know, she almost reinvents herself from scratch and find herself increasingly drawn to Johnnie, who is played by a pre-Hollywood Gerard Butler (so who can blame her). He has his own challenges from a troubled recent past though and so whilst the sweet relationship that builds between the two is beautifully essayed as one senses the genuine spark between the pair, the small matter of his demons and her husband remain in the way.

It is close to my favourite of Helen McCrory's roles as it allows her to display her gift to its fullest. Rose is 'just' an ordinary woman, yet McCrory brings her to extraordinary life as she blossoms from someone terrified of their own shadow to a woman who has the confidence to make her voice heard in both the pursuit of justice and in deciding what is right for herself. Butler also offers a sensitive performance, reminding us of the actor behind the abs, connecting well with Rose and it remains a piece of television that I adore for bringing this actress to my attention.

But it is an ensemble show and this is just one of many strands; fortunately there are compelling stories elsewhere to complement Rose's. Nina Sosanya is excellent as spiky single mum Marcia who is forced to address her own relationship with her mother as she comes under intimidatory threat; Sylvia Sims as the kindly Elsie and Nicholas Farrell as a struggling businessman also do interesting work with their characters. Michael Maloney is also good as the unassuming Peter who ends up thrust into the foreman role, much to the delight of his in-laws who seize the opportunity to investigate the crime themselves to hilarious and yet revelatory effect.

Antony Sher and Derek Jacobi lend a heavyweight theatrical credence to their courtroom scenes, actually filmed in the Old Bailey, as opposing counsel, and though not the central focus, the case of the Sikh teenager accused of killing a chav in retaliation for bullying is an engaging one as it twists and turns with the victim's family forcefully pressuring the jurors where they can and the racial element subtly exposing the preconceptions of so many people. It’s incredibly hard to track The Jury down unfortunately, I rented it, but you can watch a set of clips on YouTube which centre on Gerard Butler’s contributions which happily coincide a lot with McCrory’s scenes.

DVD Review: Charles II The Power and the Passion

2012-01-21T08:39:00.000-08:00

Part of Helen McCrory weekend

“It’s amazing what Parliament will do when they feel guilty”

Charles II: The Power and the Passion was a 2003 BBC miniseries the likes of which I doubt we’ll see again in these times of austerity as it was a sprawlingly lavish costume drama, directed by a young Joe Wright. Covering the life and reign of Charles II, it starts just before his restoration to the throne after the death of Oliver Cromwell and runs right through to his death. Thus as 27 years of history are condensed into 4 hours, liberties and dramatic license is freely taken and this isn’t really the place to be too pernickety about this kind of things.

We follow Charles from his libidinous time in exile on the continent to arriving back in London to be crowned King and to lock horns with Parliament. Charles still believed strongly in the absolute power of the monarchy but the politicians of the day were determined not to surrender any of their new-gained influence and so much struggles ensued as members of his court both grew in influence and fell from favour as everyone jockeys for power and to make sure they’re on the winning side. There is also the matter of the succession as Charles has no legitimate heir, though plenty of illegitimate offspring, and wants his brother named but he is a Catholic.

Rufus Sewell is pretty marvellous throughout as the capricious monarch, haunted by visions of his father’s execution and so obstinately determined to maintain his legacy and rule as absolute leader. This throws him into conflict with the key politicians like Lord Shaftesbury, Martin Freeman doing a grand job, and also those to whom he is initially more closely allied, Ian McDiarmid’s Hyde, a voice of paternal moderation that Charles feels he outgrows and Rupert Graves’ Buckingham, whose friendship turns out to be sadly conditional.

Where the show really excels though is in his many relations with women, not least with Helen McCrory’s Barbara Villiers, one of the most successful mistresses of any King who managed to wield such considerable power in court and had all five of her children recognised and ennobled. It is such a pleasure to see McCrory playing such a different type of role: spiky, unpleasant and thoroughly manipulative, but she makes us understand that this woman is simply using the only real power she has at her disposal, having herself made Countess of Castlemaine, even elbowing her way into the court of Charles’ queen, the Portuguese Catherine of Braganza. Catherine is played beautifully by Shirley Henderson, possessing one of the most insane hairdos in all of history, a devout Catholic and old-fashioned to her very core, she initially seems a bad fit for the outlandish King but as time progresses, a genuine fondness and affection grows between them as they survive disease, war and multiple disappointments. Emma Pierson’s sparky Nell Gwynn and Mélanie Thierry’s Louise de Kéroualle also tumble into his bed, the former being particularly good fun, but it is always Catherine that remains constant, McCrory playing the frustrations of Barbara so very well as her influence in court dwindles and she is forced out, albeit with an epic exit scene.

Charles’ reign was packed full of incident, the arrival of the Plague, the Great Fire of London and several major plots which are all dispatched quickly though effectively in Adrian Hodge’s clear script which never feels like it is patronising its audience. Graves and McDiarmid are both excellent, there’s a sensationally vituperative turn from Diana Rigg as the embittered Queen Henrietta Maria and the whole thing is just a triumph. A historical costume drama with real purpose and intent, superbly acted and not just by McCrory!

You can pick up the DVD fairly cheaply but it is also available to watch on YouTube if you’re so inclined.

DVD Review: Frankenstein

2012-01-21T08:34:00.000-08:00

Part of Helen McCrory weekend

Even goddesses sometime make mis-steps and this modern-day rewriting of Frankenstein by Jed Mercurio probably fits closer to that category than anything else I’ve seen her in. A 2007 ITV special, it adapted Mary Shelley’s story into a contemporary world of stem cells and genetic engineering and cast McCrory as the lead, Doctor Victoria Frankenstein if you will. The new take is superficially surprisingly effective as the main thrust of the story is that Victoria is running an organ-growing experiment - the Universal Xenograft project - and is extremely motivated by the fact her young son is suffering from a terminal disease, his only hope being multiple organ transplant… As his condition worsens, so her desperation increases, resulting in her injecting her son William’s blood into the procedure though it is too late to save him. This has unexpected consequences though and in the murky void between bioethics and unscrupulous moneymen, the experiment is allowed to continue though no-one is sure exactly what has been created.

The emotional power of the story is heightened by the simple gender switch, McCrory excels at evoking the earth-shattering grief of a mother nursing her dying child and struggling to come to terms with the reality of his condition. That she channels her energies into her research is unsurprising and it is not by chance that it takes 9 months for the being – the UX - to enter the world. The relationship that then develops between creature and creator is then a most twisted one because of the genetic material contained within, part of her dead son is in the UX and in her grieving state, the lines become blurred. Contrasted against this relationship is the cold calculating mind of Victoria’s boss, Professor Pretorius – a steely turn from Lindsay Duncan – who is alive to the monetary and business potential that has come from this huge scientific breakthough. Victoria’s estranged husband also reappears on the scene though he is not all he seems as he has his own designs on the UX.

But for all the poignancy that is wrought by McCrory’s performance, there is no hiding how rushed the story around her is. The entire thing is over and done with in 90 minutes in this director’s cut (it was 75 minutes on original broadcast) and so there is often the sense that we’re hurrying from plot point to plot point. Victoria’s colleagues suffer most here, Neil Pearson and Benedict Wong are given far too little to deal with to really convince before they are offed by the UX. And there’s also a slight uncertainty of tone, exactly how much of a horror story is Mercurio trying to tell here (he also directs) as the creature itself looks more like ET’s cousin who’s been around the block and though there is much brutality in its action, it rarely evokes genuine fear or horror. Rather it is pity that emerges, due to the manipulations and punishments it is forced to undergo as people try to discover exactly what it is.

DVD Review: Charlotte Gray

2012-01-21T08:29:00.000-08:00

Part of Helen McCrory weekend

"Is it possible for a person to commit a crime without knowing it"

My abiding memory of seeing Charlotte Gray at the cinema was the much, much belated realisation that I had indeed previously read the book by Sebastian Faulks, it finally clicking about 10 minutes from the end as I realised I knew who she was going to see at the top of the stairs! I did enjoy the film though, even if it didn’t go down particularly well with the rest of the world, for it hits many of my buttons – I love Cate Blanchett, I love wartime stories that focus on women and I love France.

I also love Helen McCrory and she makes a brief, but enormously impactful cameo in this film which was a joy to return to and appreciate, me not being aware of who she was first time round, along with its other various treats. Charlotte Gray is set mainly in Vichy France during World War II where our eponymous heroine, a shy Scottish woman has joined the French Resistance as a covert operative. Her motivations are mixed though as she is determined to find the man for whom she has fallen hard, an RAF pilot, but as the war continues and Charlotte becomes accustomed to life undercover, her priorities begin to change as she learns much more about herself than she ever anticipated, thanks to the attentions of her handsome contact Julien, Billy Crudup, and his father, Michael Gambon in excellent form as Levade and the two Jewish orphans that they are harbouring and to whom she becomes housekeeper.

To the matter in hand though. McCrory shines briefly but brightly as Françoise, a fellow secret agent who has been rumbled as she comes to meet Blanchett’s Gray for the first time. She’s on screen for just a short time and has precious few lines, but her work here is amazing. As the camera stays on her whilst the gendarmes check everyone's papers is heartbreaking, her elegant cigarette smoking not betraying anything but her eyes howling with pain and frustration with what she knows is coming. Heartbreaking, wonderful stuff. And there’s a raft of thesp treats in the supporting cast too: James Fleet as a shadowy Special Ops recruiter, Abigail Cruttenden as Charlotte’s effervescent flatmate Daisy, Anton Lesser’s vile schoolteacher, Ron Cook, Nicholas Farrell, almost every scene has someone recognisable in it. Only Rupert Penry-Jones’ fresh-faced pilot feels a little off, a little mis-cast as he’s not quite the actor he has become here. And on an amusing sidenote, I went to college will Sophie the slutty telephonist, though she was Sally rather than the Rosanna Lavelle credited here.

In the end, the film is a little bit too neat, too cosy, to really convince as serious stuff. But sometimes soft edges work well: the fate of Levade and the orphans could have hit home much harder but would have felt out of place; Blanchett too often looks fashion-model gorgeous, but it is hardly a trial to watch her rock a selection of amazing hats; but as it all combines to a gorgeously sentimental ending, I forgive it all and cheesy as it may be, I simply adore the final line of the film.

DVD Review: Becoming Jane

2012-01-21T08:23:00.001-08:00

Part of Helen McCrory weekend

“Consider, this is likely to be your best offer”

(This was actually written before Helen McCrory Weekend was conceptualised but I felt it fitted in better here than in the post-Christmas splurge.) Another film that was over Christmas that I hadn't seen before was Becoming Jane. Falling neatly into the costume drama niche, I thought I was in for a nice time but it all too easily fell into one of those traps most beloved by playwrights when writing about real people: fictionalised reality. So what we have is a mixture of truth about Jane Austen's life and a fictionalised version of a romance with lawyer Thomas Lefroy, combined with the additional directorial choice of having the events of the film be the direct inspiration for Austen's first novel, Pride and Prejudice.

What this meant was that much of the film was robbed of its spontaneity. Julie Walters as the hectoring mother and James Cromwell as the kindly father were entirely predictable, as was Maggie Smith's Lady Gresham - the Lady Catherine de Bourgh figure. There was hardly any room for the story to breathe of its own accord which was a real shame as this was where it was actually better. The chemistry between Anne Hathaway and James McAvoy as Austen and Lefroy - apparently the bona fide inspiration for the character of Darcy - is palpable and effectively deployed throughout the film, as Austen's certainties crumble in the face of genuine passion. And also in the slightly transgressive romance between Jane's brother and her older widowed cousin, the seductive Comptesse de Feullide played with glee by Lucy Cohu, an actress I love and whose presence I was nicely surprised with in this.

Someone else whose presence I was not aware of was queen of my theatrical heart, Helen McCrory. But sadly, it was a rather bizarre little cameo, as established authoress Mrs Radcliffe, which I didn't enjoy as an odd portrayal of an odd character and thus immediately scored minus points with me for not showing off her potential to anywhere near its best. Leo Bill as a would-be suitor hanging around Austen's petticoats and Anna Maxwell Martin as sister Cassandra upped the thesp stakes for me, but as a whole, I have to say I found the film less than compelling.

DVD Review: Casanova

2012-01-21T08:20:00.000-08:00

Part of Helen McCrory weekend

"Be the flame, not the moth"

Taking in Lasse Hallström’s 2005 film version of Casanova was quite an odd experience in the end, a rather overwhelming sadness at Heath Ledger's passing struck me from the off, in a manner that hadn't hit me before, even whilst watching his final performances in The Dark Knight and The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus much closer to his untimely death in 2008. But I was resolved to watch as many films with Helen McCrory in as possible and so I continued with it.

She plays Casanova's mother and so her appearance was limited to an opening sequence which set the scene for the film, her leaving him with his grandmother as a young boy and then disappearing from his life. [SPOILER ALERT] She then reappears in the finale in the nick of time to save Casanova's bacon and is involved in the swashbuckling, sword-brandishing showdown as all those trying to catch up with the lusty lothario chase him through the streets of Venice. It's a small role, and one that sadly allows little opportunity for McCrory to really make her mark, one would be hard-pressed to really remember her in this particular film, but sometimes that is just the way it goes.

I did however find myself liking the rest of the film quite a lot. It is rather silly, and never takes itself too seriously, Ledger excelling as the charismatic Casanova who is taken by the striking, and strikingly intelligent, Franscesca and resolves to have her, using subterfuge, disguise and many a ruse to find a way to wheedle into her affections as his reputation as a playboy precedes him. Sienna Miller does well as the sparky Francesca, resolutely determined to make her own way in this man's world, using a male nom-de-plume to get published, and pleasingly forthright in her opinions.

There was a fair bit of thesp recognition in here too: Tim McInnerny as a ridiculously attired Doge was very...McInnerny-like (Ken Stott and Omid Djalili also played their parts as they play many others...), Natalie Dormer as a reluctant virgin was good fun and Charlie Cox as her moonstruck admirer who soon grows in confidence and experience reminded me that he is a good actor who I'd like to see onstage again. Jeremy Irons as Papal representative Pucci, determined to eradicate all traces of fornication, sent himself up quite well and I also really enjoyed Lena Olin as Francesca's flirtatious mother - I should go and see if she's ever done any stage work as I'd really like to see her onstage.

So perhaps not the best McCrory experience but an enjoyable watch nonetheless.

Review: The Trial of Ubu, Hampstead

2012-01-19T23:40:00.000-08:00

“Maybe the only thing we're obliged to do...is think the unthinkable"

One always knows that when Katie Mitchell’s name appears in connection with a play, then it is bound to be something just a little bit different as she has proved herself to be one of our most original, and consequently divisive, directors. Her latest foray into the theatre is with Simon Stephens’ satirical new play The Trial of Ubu which is just starting at the Hampstead Theatre. Mitchell has recently collaborated with both: Stephens’ play Wastwater left me more than a little bemused at the Royal Court but her installation piece small hours which played as part of the Hampstead Downstairs season last year was quietly, disturbingly excellent.

The Trial of Ubu is quite something else though. Dark, disconcerting and challenging, it really is unlike anything else in London at the moment. I saw it without knowing anything about it, or indeed about the play itself to be honest, aside from having a vague recollection of having heard a mention of Père Ubu once upon a time. And it is obviously up to you how forewarned you want to be about the show, just be aware that what will follow will necessarily contain a few spoilers.

Things start off rather randomly with a puppet show, think Punch and Judy crossed with Spitting Image, which presents as grotesque farce, the nefarious violent doings of King Ubu during his bloody rise to power and torrid reign which is actually a new version of Alfred Jarry’s absurdist work Ubu Roi by Stephens. A section of the stage wall then opens up and two interpreters take their seat at the ringside of the International Criminal Tribune in The Hague at the trial of a brutal dictator who stands accused of crimes against humanity and multiple violations of international humanitarian law. That dictator is Ubu, Stephens having taken the fictional character and placed him in a modern-day context to draw strong, if non-specific parallels with the likes of Slobodan Milošević and Charles Taylor who both faced trial for genocide.

In a bold stroke, we don’t witness Ubu’s trial directly, but rather experience it through these two interpreters who are stretched to the limit as the court is in the Netherlands, the defendent speaks Russian, defence counsel speaks French and the prosecutor is German. And by removing ‘character’ from the equation as these two women translate all the dialogue from their poky little room, the unflinching emphasis is placed on the effectiveness of international law and questions the legitimacy that it actually possesses, especially outwith the cultural specificity where the crime was committed. We also get to see the increasingly traumatic impact of the trial and its subject matter on the interpreters – played skilfully by Kate Duchêne and Nikki Amuka-Bird (a late replacement for Hattie Morahan) – as the case drags on and how their mutually dependent relationship develops whilst they continue to capture neutrally every nuance from every language. They’re both extremely good, dealing well with the huge challenge of verbosity, but Duchêne is genuinely outstanding – her wordless breakdown near the end, almost hidden from view, is just heartbreaking

These scenes are alleviated by brief interludes in which we see opposing counsel debate the merits of their legal battling, and also Ubu and his jailer in snippets of conversation. The latter of these is the most disturbing as Paul McLeary’s dictator, for so long unseen, is most disconcerting to look at, the most obvious visual cue being Heath Ledger’s Joker. This effectively calls back to the puppet show of the beginning but also heightens the comic tragedy of self-aggrandising rulers, so often tolerated by the international community until it is too late. And overall, there’s actually little of the overtly ‘Mitchell’ touch that seems to rub people up the wrong way, myself included on occasion, the fluid passage of time – the trial lasts for over 430 days - is well suggested by flashes of fast-forward movement, but it cannot be denied that Mitchell’s approach here is a devastatingly effective way of portraying a trial.

Normally when I write reviews, I try to steer clear of reading anything else about the play so that I can capture my own response, free from the unwitting plagiarism that always seems to happen. With The Trial of Ubu though, I ended up doing a lot of reading, about Jarry and interviews with both Stephens and Mitchell, and I’m glad that I did because it definitely enriched my understanding, and thus the experience of the play. It isn’t necessarily the easiest watch, but it is genuinely unique – Mitchell may still struggle to get the respect she deserves in this country - and utterly thought-provoking – Stephens posing questions that get to the very heart of what our morality is based upon.

Running time: 90 minutes (without interval)

Programme cost: £3, playtext also available for £5

Booking until 25th February

Review: Swallows and Amazons, Chichester Festival Theatre

2012-01-18T22:59:00.000-08:00

"Better drowned than duffers"

Originally a big success for the Bristol Old Vic last Christmas, Swallows and Amazons was revived for this festive season and has just spent a month in the West End at the Vaudeville Theatre ahead of an extensive UK tour. Starting off here in Chichester, Arthur Ransome's 1930 novel has been adapted by Helen Edmunson, sprinkled with songs from The Divine Comedy's Neil Hannon and directed by Tom Morris, it emerges as a delightfully inventive and highly imaginative production.

It works so well because it captures a long-lost spirit of play so very genuinely. From beginning to end, the show exudes a joyous playful spirit that almost immediately makes us forget we're watching adults pretending to be kids. As the four Walker children set off to set up camp on an uninhabited island near their holiday home, they are whisked into a thrilling adventure beyond their wildest imagination and we are there with them for every beautifully-realised step.

Whether its the larks of the ensemble playing the scenes that the children see through their telescope, the hilarity of Roger's attempts to swim, the bounding fun of the cast stalking each other through the aisles of the theatre, the breathtaking magic of walking the plank or the sheer exuberance that explodes with the delightful audience-involving final skirmish, the warmth with which it all executed means a smile is never far from the face. And there's something so refreshing about being ensconced in a world where being called a liar is the worst thing imaginable, the combination of innocence and playfulness carefully calibrated to never cloy yet always endear.

Stewart Wright as Roger gains most of the laughs, how could he not as the biggest cast member playing the youngest, but he pulls off the innocent child's simplicity perfectly; Richard Holt and Katie Moore imbue the older John and Susan (are all Susans in children's literature destined to be sensible?!) with a deft maturity that never loses sight of the fact they are still kids too; and Akiya Henry is just marvellous as Titty - adorable, goofy witty and wise.

There's excellent support across the actor-musician ensemble too, especially from Celia Adams and Sophie Waller as the strident, fine-voiced Amazons and from the incredibly hard-working and energetic Neal Craig who is responsible for some of the funniest moments of the first half. Sound effects and incidental music come from the cast too from a range of sources that evokes Propeller in its inventiveness and consequently the soundscape as a whole is wondrous. The music is folk-inflected and gentle rather than being forthright - this is a play with songs after all - but it fits into the aesthetic extremely well, under Jon Trenchard's staff musical direction.

This is the perfect show to take a child too, even if it is just your inner child. A warm and generous piece of escapist entertainment that is extremely accomplished and well worth it, so go along and bask in the retro glow of a time gone by when everything was just much less complicated.

Running time: 2 hours 30 minutes (with interval)

Booking until 21st January, then touring to Edinburgh, Nottingham, Coventry, Wycombe, Malvern, Darlington, Norwich, West Yorkshire Playhouse, Liverpool, Canterbury, Sheffield, Cambridge, Wolverhampton, Plymouth, Blackpool and Cardiff.

Originally written for The Public Reviews

Review: And No More Shall We Part, Hampstead Downstairs

2012-01-17T22:33:00.000-08:00

"I still love you like in the beginning"

If you're suffering from the January blues, then the theatre can often provide a convenient respite. But be careful about the show you pick, as following on from the tear-jerking Lovesong at the Lyric Hammersmith is another piece that seems determined to make you reach for the tissues - Tom Holloway's And No More Shall We Part. A play about assisted suicide is rarely going to be easy viewing and in the intimate space downstairs at the Hampstead Theatre (I unwisely chose to sit on the front row), this two-hander is gently uncompromising stuff.

Pam is suffering from some unspecified terminal disease and has decided that she wants to take matters into her own hands and end her life whilst she still has her faculties and her dignity. But when the time comes, the tablets take much longer than anticipated to take hold and over several hours, horrified husband Don is forced to watch as the end comes, agonisingly slowly. The wait for release is interpersed with scenes from the recent past as we see Pam informing Don of what she has decided and his struggle to accept her wishes.

Stirring stuff but rather than go down the emotional manipulative route that Frantic Assembly took with Lovesong, James Macdonald's production has a certain emotional distance about it with his two stagehands sat either side of the stage, passing up props to the actors and cueing light and sound in clear view. With the play taking place on a shiny (and ugly) black revolve, the effect is a little disconcerting and in some ways feels at odds with the naturalistic acting. But where the revolve does work is in allowing the action to flow easily from past to present, from the dining room discussions to the tormented bedside wait.

And it is most compellingly acted: Dearbhla Molloy plays the peaceful calm of a woman fully resolved to her course of action perfectly, a tower of unwavering single-minded strength softly explaining her reasoning and seeking support from a disbelieving partner. As Don, Bill Paterson has the tougher job, clearly a lot less keen on the idea of euthanasia and certainly not ready to say goodbye to his wife despite her determination. The play's most affecting moments come from his face as he battles his doubts to come to some sort of acceptance and to embrace the fact that this is what she wants. This struggle continues even at, especially at, the bedside when the end seems so close and yet so far away and is delicately but urgently portrayed by Paterson.

Holloway's writing is certainly thought-provoking, pushing us to think about the responsibilities of the decisions we would make and I think this is the only area where I felt he left Pam get away too easily perhaps. The way in which the couple's children are excused from making an appearance at the final dinner is neatly done, but throws up one of the biggest dilemmas about the whole issue. How does one balance the wishes of the dying against the wishes of the living, Pam's 'selfishness' in her determination to do everything her way can be seen as harsh - I don't think I could have accepted having the last time I would be with my whole family taken away from me with the same equaniminity that is apparent here - but also as highly protective, this is an illegal activity after all.

Having cried buckets at Lovesong, I was surprised to remain dry-eyed throughout this. That's not to say that I wasn't moved, but rather that it studiously shirks such overt emotionality and not always to its credit. Tonally it remains too flat even when shifting between time periods, and the pace doesn't really vary enough, meaning that moments of dullness crept in. When the flashpoints come, they are gratefully received as they jolt the attention but again, it's not always for the best - at one point the sweet reminiscences from the past are shoved aside for a dramatic revelation from each which ultimately leads nowhere.

And No More Shall We Part fits the brief of the Hampstead Downstairs policy extremely well in creation of a space in which to experiment and do something a little different. Personally, I'm not sure that James Macdonald's production works that well in its decision to go a little off-piste, and I wish that Tom Holloway's writing had been a little braver in creating a little more conflict or debate into what is such a contentious subject. But it's all done with in 90 minutes and the opportunity of seeing such classy actors giving such beautifully understated performances in an intimate setting means that it is probably money well spent.

Running time: 90 minutes (without interval)

Programme cost: free castsheet available

Booking until 11th February

Review: Our New Girl, Bush

2012-01-16T23:45:00.000-08:00

“Sometimes we have to take care of things we’re frightened of”

After winning London Theatre of the Year in The Stage’s awards and the considerable success of The Kitchen Sink before Christmas, expectations are certainly riding high at the Bush Theatre as Josie Rourke’s final season as Artistic Director continues. Our New Girl is a play by Nancy Harris, who’s also playing at the Gate with her Kreutzer Sonata, which on first glance bears similarities to Tom Wells’ play as it is set largely in a kitchen, though we soon come to see we’re in a whole other universe (with better plumbing).

Hazel has given up her high-flying career as a top lawyer to run an olive oil importing business from home to allow her to spend more time at home with son Daniel and an imminent new arrival; her plastic surgeon husband Richard is away in Haiti on a charitable mission and has engaged Annie, an Irish nanny to help out around the house. But the picture-perfect suburban lifestyle is showing severe cracks: no-one is buying olive oil, Daniel is something of a problem child to say the least and Richard neglected to tell Hazel about the fact that he was getting professional help for her. That the nanny is seemingly perfect at her job only raises Hazel’s hackles further and as things begin to take a more sinister turn, it seems her suspicions may not be entirely baseless.

Our New Girl actually emerges as quite a disturbing play, unafraid to attack what it sees as the vast hypocrisy of the liberal upper middle classes and their shocking approach to parenthood. On the face of it, this family seem to have everything but from the off we see just how disquieted young Daniel is – an assured turn from Jonathan Teale, who shares the role with Jude Willoughby – and how sterile the showroom-fresh kitchen is. Kate Fleetwood’s Hazel is clearly stressed, something beyond the fact she’s heavily pregnant, and her reluctance to allow another woman – even one ostensibly there to help out – into her domestic sphere, even unsuited as she is to it, speaks volumes as to the pressures she feels. These are cruelly, and cleverly exposed by Harris as Annie works her way through a list of questions about Daniel in order to ‘get to know him’ and sees how problematic his behaviour is.

But it is when intrepid Richard returns from Haiti that we begin to see how twisted the family dynamic is. He seems more interested in the press attention his good work is generating, especially as he is being venerated as a kind of handsome daredevil explorer – Mark Bazeley exuding an ideal laconic charm - and releasing him from his humdrum everyday work. And as Annie reveals herself as the cuckoo in this nest, horrendous selfishness rises to the fore and vicious, earth-shattering, lies are told. This shift in tone is well-executed as Richard’s faintly patronising tone gains a sharper edge and Denise Gough’s Annie reveals how rough she is willing is play. And at the heart of it, Fleetwood is excellent – wryly amusing even when at her most frazzled and drawing us into the heart of her dilemma, as unpalatable as it may seem.

Morgan Large’s set design is placed on a wide, shallow thrust which presents its own interesting challenges with the seating, and I’d try to avoid sitting at a diagonal to the corners of the stage as Gwinner quite frequently places her actors in these corners with their backs to the audience, thus the blocking meant a couple of scenes were completely lost to someone’s back. Gwinner could have done with introducing a bit more movement in general to the whole piece as some scenes did feel a little static, but overall this is highly competent work.

There are moments when the play doesn’t seem entirely original in its premise, or the attitudes of its characters, but these are short-lived as Harris subverts and twists expectations into bravely unlikeable places – you may covet their kitchen, but you wouldn’t want to know any of these people. Consequently it lacks the heart that made The Kitchen Sink so unmissable but this is its own strange beast and sure to be another success for the Bush.

Running time: 2 hours 30 minutes (with interval)

Playtext cost: £3.50, free castsheet also available

Booking until 11th February

Radio Review: Possession, Radio 4

2012-01-15T22:41:00.000-08:00

“It’s as if we’re waiting to be driven by their plot”

I’ve been something of a reluctant convert to radio drama, for every production I’ve enjoyed, there’s been one that has disappointed me, but if there is another that is as good as this version of Possession, then I will be a happy boy. Over the past three weekends, I have listened to the omnibus editions of this Radio 4 adaptation of AS Byatt’s novel by Timberlake Wertenbaker and have been utterly seduced by it. It was simply gorgeous, stunningly beautiful to listen to and deeply moving. I shall be investigating whether one can buy it as it really was that good.

Wertenbaker’s adaptation sees research assistant Roland Michell and literary scholar Maud Bailey recounting their quest to discover the secrets uncovered by two letters between Victorian poet Randolph Henry Ash and a woman named Christabel Lamotte which threaten to upturn literary history with their revelations. They are pursued by other more nefarious sorts who also want the correspondence and so the race is on to be the first to discover the truth. This story is enhanced by the reciting of letters between Ash and Lamotte as we follow their story of an illicit yet all-consumingly passionate affair which is revealed at the same time.

It is one of those things that it is basically impossible to do justice to, and now it is too late for me to be able to recommend you give it a listen as it is no longer on the iPlayer. But the combination of achingly wistful narration, simply perfect casting and beautiful music was a match made in heaven in Celia de Wolff’s production. Harry Hadden-Paton and Jemma Redgrave as the slightly socially inept Roland and Maud, academics to their core, were ideally matched as the central couple, Hadden-Paton’s voice in particular seems really well suited to creating character on radio, but the masterstroke was in getting Rachael Stirling to play Christabel, her unmistakeably rich tones almost too painful to bear detailing the tortured romance with James D’arcy’s Ash. Oh, it was just gorgeous stuff.

With a supporting cast that included the likes of Stella Gonet, Bill Paterson, Matthew Marsh and Jonjo O’Neill, it feels like it was almost made for me, but it does have to be probably the best thing I have heard on the radio ever since I started listening late last year. If I find out that it is being released anywhere, I will let you know as I urge you to track it down if possible.

Review: The Art of Concealment, Jermyn Street

2012-01-15T18:22:00.000-08:00

“One has to be careful about the things one reveals”

The Jermyn Street Theatre seem to be a little bit off with their timing here with The Art of Concealment. They were first off the mark in the capital last year in Terence Rattigan’s centenary year with their production of Less Than Kind, so importing a biographical piece like this one by Giles Cole now feels a little redundant, given how much of his work, and work inspired by his life, we were able to gorge ourselves upon. But still, he’s a figure I find fascinating and so I was more than willing to give this play a try.

The Art of Concealment plays for the most part like a simple biography of the English playwright. The older version, nearing death, recounts tales of his youth as he escaped the shadow of his father’s expectations to pursue a career writing in the theatre. As we see, he became quite the professional success with a string of successes on the West End stage, but this was countered by the secrecy of his private life as he remained desperate to keep his homosexuality a secret from his public, and more importantly from his mother, much to the chagrin of his lovers.

Cole’s writing too often falls into idle biography, often feeling like the simple recounting of a Wikipedia entry in the first half, as little that is new is revealed and little that is entertaining is explored. The interactions between Rattigans old and new were too few and far between to have any real merit, which was a shame as Alistair Findlay and Propeller alumnus Dominic Tighe respectively both did good work; and the one moment of flair – the personification of his audience in the form of Aunt Edna – fell a little bit flat, not really striking home.

The performances from the cast meant that this was never a boring experience: Graham Pountney and Judy Buxton made appealingly stiff parental figures, the types of which can be spotted in many of his plays, and Pountney also delighted as one of a pair of stalwart hangers-on, Christopher Morgan’s Cuthbert Worsley the other, their queening about often highly amusing. But aside from the recounting of fact, and the withering put-downs of exploitative friends and lovers, there’s little real insight into Rattigan which was the most disappointing aspect – we could have seen so much more about his play-writing, ultimately of which we see so very little.

Running time: 2 hours 15 minutes (with interval)

Booking until 28th January

Weekend #1 - Shakespeare

2012-01-14T18:18:00.000-08:00

It looks like I will be doing a fair amount of travelling over the next few weekends and I have a lot of DVD boxsets that I got for Christmas to work through, so I will be trying to control the slippery slope of madness that is the theatrical DVD reviewing by trying out a few themed collections of posts. Mainly it will be exploring the work of people I like Terence Rattigan and Helen McCrory, or whose work I want to revisit or know more about, Mike Leigh and Stephen Poliakoff. The possibilities are endless so I'll be trying it out for a few weeks, mainly to work through the presents I got of these four, and see how it goes.

First up though is good old Shakespeare, and I’ll be looking at Julie Taymor’s adaptation of The Tempest featuring Helen Mirren, and two RSC DVDs from the 90s: a filmed version of The Winter’s Tale with Antony Sher and Alexandra Gilbreath and an adaptation of A Midsummer Night’s Dream from 1996.

DVD Review: The Winter’s Tale (RSC at the Barbican, 1998)

2012-01-14T18:11:00.000-08:00

“Verily, I speak it in the freedom of my knowledge”

It is no surprise to anyone who reads this blog that any mention of Alexandra Gilbreath – recent winner of the Best Supporting Actress in a Play fosterIAN to be sure - sends me all a quiver. So when someone told me about this production of The Winter’s Tale which features not only her as Hermione but also has Nancy Carroll lurking in the ensemble, I was most keen to watch it. Plus there’s the small matter of Antony Sher as Leontes, an actor whom I am always intrigued to see more of as I’ve have actually had little experience of him as a performer.

An RSC production from 1998, this was recorded at the Barbican and so as a straight filming of the stage show, it is free from the kind of directorial innovation that blighted (IMHO) the versions of A Midsummer Night’s Dream and The Tempest also covered this weekend. Instead, we get the theatrical experience minus the live thrill but with the added bonus of close up work. And it is a great bonus here. Sher does so much acting with his eyes as a paranoiac Leontes, mentally damaged as suggested by a prologue and incapable of not seeing the dark shadows in the corner of the room. The way his suspicions are aroused by Polixenes’ attentiveness to his wife is brilliantly done as she is actually suffering from pregnancy pain but Leontes misses the crucial moments and all too easily lets the darkness consume him.

There’s a huge physicality to Sher’s performance as well, combined with his muscular voice which makes fearsome sense of this Leontes. It’s almost a little too much though as one is sometimes a little hard-pressed to understand why Hermione is so keen to wait for him (though this is as much a problem with the play as anything) and the pure virtuousness with which Alexandra Gilbreath imbues this queen comes close to making it an understandable choice. The best female part though is Paulina, the noblewoman who possesses the backbone to stand up to the king and is willing to sacrifice her own happiness in order to ensure his punishment remains fitting and Estelle Kohler is fantastic here, possessed of a great steeliness.

The court scenes in Sicilia are the best bit of this production: the dark, almost Victorian aesthetic works well and with the likes of the aforementioned Carroll as a kindly play companion for the young Mamillius, Geoffrey Freshwater’s honest Camillo and Ken Bones’ misunderstood Polixenes filling out the ensemble, this is the show at its most compelling. That’s not to say the pastoral comedy of Bohemia isn’t well done, it is largely effective here but just doesn’t pack the same weight within the play. Emily Bruni and Ryan McCluskey’s young lovers are a little anaemic though Ian Hughes makes a strikingly manipulative Autolycus.

Directed simply but effectively by Robin Lough, the billowing sheet of the design is effectively deployed in many ways including in the infamous bear scene and there’s a nice sense of pace about the whole production which made it highly enjoyable to watch; more so than just for the performances I knew I would like regardless.

DVD Review: A Midsummer Night's Dream (RSC 1996)

2012-01-14T18:08:00.000-08:00

"Thou art translated"

Perhaps at the time, this 1996 RSC adaptation of A Midsummer Night’s Dream by Adrian Noble was revolutionary in the way it reconceives the action of Shakespeare’s play, but to today’s eyes or at least mine in particular, it now feels rather hokey and dated. I suspect as well that something may have been lost in the translation from stage to screen as too often, the abiding vibe of this production was closer to a cheap music video.

It didn’t help that I disliked the opening conceit, and one that was carried through the whole show, of this being a figment of a young boy’s imagination, inspired by a book he’s reading. I could have lived with it had it just been at the beginning but the boy is a constant presence, we’re forever following his movements as we shift from scene to scene, but he has no real role in the show, no interaction with the characters and so it just becomes this clumsy device that continually rears its head.

And the general air of the production feels garishly coloured and awkwardly stagey in its affected movement. The ensemble frequently call to mind Pan’s People gone wrong in their bizarre costumes; the dreamlike limbo space seemed to work against the play for me, I just didn’t like the lack of sense of place that it engendered though the lightbulbs for the forests were well done and there was great comic business with the doors. And that the graphic work – those bubbles... – now looks dated is a simply inescapable problem.

Criticisms aside, I did enjoy the marked doubling between the court and fairyland, not just as expected with Hippolyta / Titania and Theseus / Oberon but also with the Rude Mechanicals also appearing as the fairies that attend to Bottom. Lindsay Duncan and Alex Jennings brought their customary professionalism to bear with solid performances, and the lovers were good though not particularly distinguished – Monica Dolan’s Hermia probably emerging as my favourite, just ahead of Daniel Evans (with hair!) as Lysander. Desmond Barrit’s Bottom is good fun and surprisingly lewd, it is clear that the transformation into an ass affected all parts of his body!, and Finbar Lynch (credited as Barry here...) makes an excellent Puck.

As I said, I imagine this was a production that worked wonders on the stage, hence filming it for posterity, but I can’t believe that this is a good representation of it, as despite the relative strength of some of the lead performances, it still made for quite a patience-testing watch, even with its relatively short running time.

DVD Review: The Tempest (Julie Taymor)

2012-01-14T18:04:00.000-08:00

“Behold the wronged Duchess of Milan, Prospera”

Julie Taymor’s film of The Tempest sank from view rather quickly on its original release, despite having the eye-catching coup of Helen Mirren taking on the lead role – renamed here Prospera. It wasn’t the best of times for Taymor at the beginning of 2011, riding a rather torrid time over the debacle of the much-delayed Spiderman musical, and perhaps people didn’t take this work as seriously as they might have done otherwise. Her previous Shakespeare adaptation – the fierce Titus - was a film I found endlessly intriguing and so I was actually quite keen to see this and thus frustrated when I realised I would have to wait for the DVD to be released.

Was it worth the wait...well, I’m not sure it was to be honest. The casting of Mirren is inspired and the text carries the little tinkering it needs to accommodate the gender switch very well – she’s the Duchess of Milan whose husband is murdered and title usurped by brother Antonio – and there’s an interesting shift in emphasis of the parenting relationship, the testing of Ferdinand feels more rooted in ensuring he’s an ideal suitor for Felicity Jones’ willowy Miranda. And Mirren speaks the verse with an intense passion, a burning fervour of injustice never far away but underscored with a measure of warmth.

It’s the rest of the film that disappointed me. From the clunky visual effects that look horrible, especially with Ben Whishaw’s sprite Ariel seemingly rarely there in person but constantly an image manipulated by CGI (though apparently a necessity as scheduling conflicts meant he couldn’t film for long) and accompanied by pained rock music to the lack of screen charisma from Felicity Jones and Reeve Carney as the young lovers (assumedly cast for his singing ability more than anything) to the plodding laboured ‘comedy’ of Russell Brand and Alfred Molina. It all just feels quite tired and uninspired.

Part of the problem is that I’ve seen what will probably be the definitive production of The Tempest for me in Cheek By Jowl’s Russian take on the tale and all others seem destined to pale by comparison. But I also do feel that something in Taymor’s vision hasn’t quite accompanied the capturing of it on film. There’s a really entertaining documentary on the DVD which I have to say I found more engaging than the film itself: the director, actors and other creatives all talking at length about their experiences and processes, even the practicalities of filming on Hawaiian beaches, and I was left wondering what could have been. There are strong touches in the soundtrack though, Twelfth Night’s O Mistress Mine is borrowed well and Beth Gibbons’ provides haunting vocal support for the finale, Sandy Powell’s costumes are fascinating and above all, Mirren’s performance does make this worth a rent, if not necessarily a purchase.