A Hectic Phase In The Life - Theatre Musings

true sword to sword

2011-12-17T03:08:00.000-08:00

So, the BBC 1984 production of Coriolanus is magnificent and Mike Gwilym is making all the right faces at the right moments. Mike Gwilym is my favourite OH-WHEN-ARE-THEY-GONNA-INVENT-A-TIME-MACHINE? shakespearean actor. Loved his Berowne, loved his Pericles, and his Aufidius is infused with a peculiar sense of weight and tragedy (oh, his face) that I had not found in the character before. No wonder Caius Martius has such a homoerotic crush on him. The Royal Shakespeare Company staging from 2007 with William Houston made me discover this play and it has been on my mind on-and-off since then. Now expectant about Ralph Fiennes' take on the subject I obssess once more. But back 1984: for a tv production -directed by Elijah Moshinsky- this has a couple of gorgeous filmic moments, Act 1 Scene 4 specially, an hypnotic matching of Shakespeare's rhythm of war-language with the images. Alan Howard is more clipped and nervous as the protagonist than I expected, more restless, but his scenes with his mother explain away where the anxiety comes from. FEELINGS. Bottom line: Mike Gwilym makes all the right choices with this.

The Painter - Arcola Theatre - 12 Feb 2011

2011-02-13T03:31:00.001-08:00

First of all congratulations to the Arcola for their new home on Ashwin Street after ten years on Arcola Street. The new location is easier to access for those of us coming from other, far boroughs, and the building itself is charming, with a derelict and amateur-ish feeling that's easy to fall in love with. Pity about the technical/enviromental difficulties experienced during the play - as in the noise from the street coming in so loud that sometimes it was hard to hear the actors and it was distracting throughout all the play.

And what a pity, because The Painter is a play that creates a very powerful, intimate mood.

TURNER: They'd never have me in their stable anyway. Constable, maybe. Not me. A rough at the court? No. (reading from a review) `Mr Turner, alas, feels the perpetual need to be extraordinary.´ Why would you want to be anything else?

It is rewarding in itself to see a playwright at the top of her game and that's where Rebecca Lenkiewicz is at the moment. Even though The Painter is far from perfect Lenkiewicz writes with such a confidence that it's just a pleasure to watch. Plus she inquires on the biographical/period piece from a modern perspective, writing historical figures as if they were contemporany plays' characters, which is of course the way to write them. This might of course be a particular bias of mine as I am personally very drawn to plays that examine historical events and settings.

The play concerns itself with romantic painter JMW Turner (played by a powerful and understated Toby Jones) and his relationships mainly with two women: Sarah (Niahm Cusak), neighbour and attracted to Turner as much as he is to her, and the prostitute Jenny (a surprising, gorgeous and incandescent Denise Gough), and with the shadow of the relationship with his mother (afflicted with mental illness) cast over the whole play. We meet Turner in 1799 as he is made member of the Royal Academy and begins to lecture students, while disdaining the "fashionables" - painters concerned with "face-painting", dogs, or flowers.

Constraint is a word that came to me watching the play: in a good way. The Painter is gorgeously sober for a piece of drama that deals with the life of an artist (but perhaps Turner, very private, invokes certain austerity himself). First of all the whole play is set within the studio of the painter - with brief glimpses into Turner's lectures at the Academy, done by light changes - beautifully designed by Ben Stones, minimalistic and monochrome. Then the performance by Jones himself works against the stereotype of the passionate artist; he also portrays Turner's arrogance with a matter-of-factly confidence that's hard to question - and I wish the play would have left more space for Tuner's arrogance and his principles of art. And that, for me, is the only weakness in Lenkiewicz's writing, the thing that stops this very good play from becoming a great play: there are too many themes touched upon but not sufficiently explored. The Painter crams a era of mental illnesses (the scenes with Turner's mother fell particularly flat for me), prostitution, slavery, the role of the artist in society, mother-son relationships, infant's death, patronage, snobberish... I felt the play touched on many subjects without them adding to a whole theme, though I liked the idea of it being somehow vignette-esque in its scenes but it lacked the kind of punch or edge that great plays have.

Nevertheless The Painter leave us with some very powerful theatrical moments: mostly in the scenes between Turner and Jenny, moments full of real human warmth and chemistry between the actors, scenes that made us forget the noise of Dalston outside and connect with the stage completely. Those scenes were remarkable pieces of theatre, if the play as a whole wasn't.

other reviews of The Painter:
There Ought To Be Clowns
musicOMH
The Independent

Clybourne Park - The Royal Court - 27 Aug 2010

2010-08-29T09:37:00.000-07:00

There's a very funny sequence in the second half of Bruce Norris' Clybourne Park where the character start telling very non-PC jokes to each other. The audience is delighted and uncomfortable at the parade of offensive terms. In a play that deals not just with race and real state but also with terror of appearing racist and the pressure we put on ourselves to seem as unprejudiced as possible it is a moment of great release and impact. Clybourne Park is political theatre more preocupied with asking a variety of questions rather than supplying answers (that is fine by me, I prefer this sort).

The play concerns the story of a house - the first house is set in the 1950s, where the house is sold out for a far cheaper price than it should (and the audience will come to find out why) and the idea of a black family moving in upsets the comfortable, conservative, white community. After the intermission we are in the present day, witnessing the efforts of a young couple who have bought the house and plans to remodel it, while the neighbours are concerned with preserving the historical heritage of the building.

Clybourne Park really has it all to please the Royal Court audience, and most of the non-usuals too: the humour, the political bite, a gorgeous art direction, Dominic Cooke working his magic behind scenes, family secrets, a theatrical meshing of different periods, a flawless cast (impressive Martin Freeman and Sarah Goldberg, and how nice to see Sam Spruell on stage again, a revelation to me in Trafalgar's The Caretaker) and some nice writing (mainly in the second half).

But what the play likes is an edge. I found the first part a bit weak - the family drama was predictable and we never got a clear sense of the characters as real people on one hand and on the other it wasn't satiric enough to be a proper satire. The set by Robert Innes Hopkins is very detailed and believable but what goes on inside is a bit stuffy for my taste. The second half flows so much easily and there's a wonderful ghost moment when both periods mix in a very theatrical twist (that's good, theatre is supossed to be theatrical). Plays where different periods are represented on stage to illustrate a subject or to dig up secret histories seem to work very well - while I was seeing Clybourne Park I was constantly reminded of the best of this examples, the magnificent Three Days Of Rain. Here there were bits that felt heavy-handed (the predictable reappearing of the chest) and the general feeling of the play telling us that we are all a bit racist, really, didn't sit well with me but I liked the interesting questions that it posed. And the jokes were funny.

It never got to be the brilliant theatre event that it could have been, for me, but Clybourne Park is a very enjoyable, entertaining and pretty thoughtful play. The cast is lowkey and very sharp and though Sophie Thompson is getting a lot of press for her role(s) - she had the flashiest parts, after all - the whole cast is perfect, specially in the second part.

REVIEW: In An Instant, Theatre503, 23 August 2010

2010-08-26T07:57:00.000-07:00

Live a life less ordinary.

Do you have 12 pounds?

Okay, well, if you have them get yourself south of the river to Theatre503 (upstairs at the Latchmere pub) and buy a ticket for In An Instant. It's an evening of new writing - 8 short plays focused on the idea of an unexpected moment that changes your life forever.

You wait for the house to open, sit on the comfortable and well-worn leather couches, sip on your drink and look at all that trendy and beautiful people around you (Is that Samuel Barnett I spot? Yes, it is). Then you go inside the theatre itself and it's tiny - but that's alright, you should be used to that, you love pub theatres, don't you? They are great, they bring back all the rawness of real theatre. But yes, the room is small, so go sit in the first row; don't be afraid of first rows, if you are used to getting day tickets in West End theatres you know of the rewards of first-row theatre-ing. The set is bare: black, two chairs. There will not be much in the way of props or costume during the night but that's fine, listen to the words, look at the actors' faces, that's all you need.

Then it starts.

It starts with HOW I CAME TO BE, written by Adam Barnard and directed Jules Tipton. It's a boy-meets-girl story of sorts. It's not the most original or exciting idea in the world and it sounds like something you might have seen in some writing workshop or a new writing night or something in the Tristan Bates Theatre. But Adam Barnard writes with such charm and wittiness and Nick Gadd and Katie Hayes ar such convincing players that yes, you are charmed. Things are looking good in the room.

Then comes DEBBIE (Who couldn't catch a cold if she tried) by James Graham, directed by Mel Hillyard. Nothing could have prepared you for the sheer genius of this monologue. Maybe it's a pity that it's so early in the evening because it's the best piece of the play, with the one written by Matthew Dunster. It's hilarious and touching and captures the subtle absurdity of teenage despair without looking down on its protagonist. This is a story about a girl who wants to get hit by lightning. Don't worry, she'll tell you why and you'll understand it all. Rebecca Oldfield is simply astonishing as the titular Debbie. You fall in love a bit. Maybe she reminds you of the first time you saw Jessica Raine in theatre, or Pippa Nixon. She makes Debbie quirky and sympathetic and real. This is what happens when pitch-perfect acting meets great writing, and the way James Graham writes here is... Well, it wasn't such a bad idea, coming down to South London on a Monday evening. This monologue reminds you why you love theatre: because it can be this extraordinary.

You are not expecting much AMBIENT NOISE, written by Kenneth Emson and directed by Mel Hillyard again. Maybe because DEBBIE was so perfect that you are expecting a let down. It starts very funny - in fact Richard Maxted is so hilarious that you wonder why he is not in everything. But then you focus on the language, the rhythm of the lines. And hey, wow, that Kenneth Emson sure can write. It's a Morning After story and it turns from funny and well-observed to weird and then sort of touching. You are not sure you get the point of the story completely. It doesn't matter. Richard Maxted and Antonia Kinlay are gorgeous. You are beginning to suspect that every single actor taking part in this play is nothing but extraordinary. In fact Richard Maxted is not only funny but he can give surprising depth to its performance.

QUIZ NIGHT feels perhaps like the most underwritten of the eight plays you see tonight. Written and directed by John Sheerman. It's entertaining and you are entertained despite some bits where the writing doesn't fly as well as it could, and some cheap humour. Nick Gadd, Martin Allanson and Chris Brandon play a trio of friends going to their regular quiz night at the pub, but then there's a twist. The effort to mix genres here is appreciated. You go to the interval quite happy.

When you come back to the little black room it's turn for Matthew Dunster's piece. Matthew Dunster is possibly the most talented writer in UK right now - didn't you go to You Can See The Hills at the Young Vic? Arguably the most powerful play of the last five or six years. You are a bit anxious about this one; Dunster is so good that of course you have certain expectations. You needn't worry: POP! is as brilliant as anything you might have expected. Directed again by Mel Hillyard and performed by Jonathan McGuinness and Rebecca Oldfield. Of course you know Jonathan McGuinness, you've seen him in rehearsed readings here and there, the Soho Theatre, and at the Actors Centre (in fact, you think you remember him in an evening of new writing in which Matthew Dunster also took part). He is always relieable and impressive. True genius. In the same way people like Justin Salinger are geniuses: as in "actors who don't get as much press attention as their obvious talents deserve". McGuinness is indeed impressive (and magnificently low-key) as Rupert, posh City guy hooked on heroin trying to score a hit after work and the only one who can help him is young Jenny, addict and lowlife. The chemistry between the actors works perfectly and you can hardly believe that Rebecca Oldfield can be Jenny as well as Debbie from the earlier piece. POP! takes on a familiar subject for theatre, and it's gritty and it could have easily been clichéd but Dunster is too good for that. You have the feeling this is the kind of play all those gritty plays about drugs wish they could be.

The next piece SNAP, written by Emma Jowett and directed by Jules Tipton, is a dark tale as well (and maybe putting it together with POP! makes sense). It is also a great piece of storytelling - you watch it unfold on the edge of your seat, tense the whole time. It is engaging theatre and to say anything more would be spoiling it. This needs to be said, though: Antonia Kinlay is amazing in it. You begin to suspect you are overusing the world amazing tonight but these plays really deserve it.

Amy Abrahams captures the give-and-take of male friendship very well in HAPINESS IS A CHOICE, directed by John Sheerman. The piece itself might not be extraordinary but the writing and the performances by Martin Allanson and Richard Maxted make it very easy to connect with the characters. The story of James, who changes his behavious suddenly and it pisses his flatmate Dan. Nicely observed.

The last short of the night is EYES FULL OF PORNOGRAPHY by Michael Ross, again under John Sheerman's direction and featuring Chris Brandon and Cameron Slater. Unfortunately this is the weakest play of the group. You don't go with a bitter taste in your mouth because they whole thing has been so rewarding but this piece isn't for you. It's funny at times and the actors do it well but once it's past the plot twist it doesn't have much to offer. It offers cliché but doesn't dissect it succesfully so the characters feel a bit constrained. You get the feeling someone else could have done great work with the idea but as it is the piece remains a bit underwhelming. Nevermind, you don't care. It's all well.

In An Instant comes to London from good Latitude reviews. As you leave the Latchmere pub and wonder which bus will take you north of the Thames from here you mentally thank Theatre503 and Eyebrow Productions for putting this play together. This is what theatre should be about, at its very core. Something fresh, committed with new language, performed by actors full of talent and passion. Even if it's in a tiny room with no set.

And you almost didn't want to come.

So, once again, I ask you: Can you spare 12 quid?

Deathtrap official trailer.

2010-08-20T12:03:00.000-07:00

Oh, hi, Claire Skinner, you brilliant thing, can't wait to see you.

I swang by the box office yesterday and they told me they were going to do day tickets (first row) for 25 quid.

Check out the official website.

REVIEW: After the Dance, National Theatre, 4 August

2010-08-06T11:24:00.000-07:00

A harsher truth.

Some characters are really hard to empathise with. And Benedict Cumberbatch does a fine, almost surgical job with the lead man of After the Dance. But one suspects that the audience is not meant to care for David but rather watch Terence Rattigan's study of his appalling behaviour as if an insenct under the microscope. The writing is tight but cold and ultimately a bit dull. But one has to admire the dullness as well. Because these people can be very dull in their little tragic lives. (Benedict Cumberbatch is a specialist in repressed douchebags - he can move on now.)

David is appalling, indeed, but not so much out of malice; his shortcoming are, in the end, tragic, and the audience's shortcoming is to expect anything else of the play. David cheats on his wife and we know he didn't resist temptation too much; the girl he falls for is judged cruelly by both characters and audience, who resents the confidence and arrogance of youth (Faye Castelow is perfect in embodying both the spirit of the period and her age). The friend seeing the play besides me really hated her; I didn't, I found easy to forgive her, because she really did what she did for love (or so she thought). David's wife, Joan (brilliant Nancy Carroll, fondly remembered from the underrated Waste at the Almeida) lives all her life in a lie because she is afraid of losing David, but she'd probably have a better chance of keeping him if she had been honest. So much waste, such a tragic missed chance. A play about a lost generation. Adrian Scarborough plays the drunken friend with a keen eye and a big heart, offering commentary to the disastrous relationships, and in the end he achieves some kind of hope of redemption (via moving to grim Manchester).

Rattigan can be brilliant at times but the play lacked dramatic tension and momentum, which okay, I ended up believing it was all on purpose, very modern, or maybe I wanted to like this play so much (Mr.Cumberbatch!) that I liked it against its weaknesses. It was not bland, it was tight, but on the same subject of a lost generation I ended up wishing I was seeing Time and the Conways again (After the Dance was better directed, but then again I really dislike Rupert Goold and everything he does).

Also: Can John Heffernan be my Pip Carter when Pip Carter is not around? (On second thought: Pip Carter, why are you not around? I want you to be on the stage all the time.)

REVIEW: Ingredient X, Royal Court, 9 June 2010

2010-06-12T04:26:00.000-07:00

Anatomy of addiction

There's something about this play that lacks some punch, some theatrical edge that stops it from being a truly good piece. But truth be told in the hands of a lesser dramatist Ingredient X would have turned out an insufferable turkey. The situation is not promising: Three friends (and the boyfriend of one of them) meet up for a fun night in watching the finale of that year's Factor X and of their conversation the general theme of the work comes to light: addiction and how it has left a mark on these women's lives. Katie (Indira Varma) and Rosanna (Lesley Sharp) have suffered from being involved with men addicted to drugs, and even Katie's new partner Frank (James Lance) is a recovering addict himself. The third friend Deanne (Lisa Palfrey) is an alcoholic who refuses to admit she has a problem.

There are some good things going for the play: the very theatrical restraint of it all happening in a night, the car-crash fascination of seeing Deanne control by her addiction, the four perfomances are excellent, and there's some clever dialogue. But there are few surprises, and few memorable moments itself. Indira Varma charms her way through th therapy-babble language of Katie admirably, and James Lance paints a surprisingly understated portrait of a man who is really trying to make his new life work - his last scene, alone, cleaning up after the party, is genuinely touching.

And one can only agree with the point Nick Grosso is trying to make: that alcohol is as much if not more of a curse to Britain as illegal drugs are. He writes flawed, sympathetic human beings and there's much value in that. There's also a lot of value in writing for women of this age - not long ago Lesley Sharp complained in her masterclass at the Haymarket how difficult it is to find lead characters and challenging roles for women of her generation. Grosso has a clever eye for dialogue and offers no easy solution for the characters. Like Frank, they all have to make it day by day, learning from their mistakes. Ingredient X is also a play about mistakes and appalling decisions and how people try to blame those on every one by themselves. It's a nice twist that the character of Indira Varma, who uses all that psycho jargon to explain how addiction is an illness, is also the most resolute of them all to prove that our decisions are always our own, and we have to take responsibility for our issues.

But unfortunately none of this is enough to make the play great. Maybe I'm just burnt out on realism like this: realism itself is not an artistic value and we take at face value that something is good because it's true to life. A play is good because it is good, not because it looks like real life. I can do without all the kitchen-sink, Mike Leigh, social realism stuff the British arts have always been so full of. Ingredient X left me with a big sense of "So what?"; while it wasn't a bad play, and the actors made it worth the money, I didn't feel challenged or illuminated in any way. Real theatre should never leave you untouched.

Chichester Festival: Bingo - 20 May 2010

2010-05-22T02:03:00.000-07:00

Severe. Austere. Strict.

Edward Bond is a good reader of Shakespeare. Nowhere more evident than in the heterodox and brilliant The Sea (seen in an unforgettable production at the Haymarket with Harry Lloyd as the lead). As a biographer, here in Bingo (subtitled Scenes of Money and Death) he is unusual. Here he strips of William Shakespeare of his prominent feature: his love of words. Bond's Shakespeare is curiously inarticulate, silent at crucial times, his voice is low. As if he had grown wearing of always fighting for (and with) words. This is a weary Shakespeare but not a poor-health one; he is not fragile, he retreats by choice. Patrick Stewart's performance is full of restraint and alienness - confirms Stewart as one of the most exciting and risky actors nowadays, nevermind his experience and fame. He was in synch with the (sombre) tone of the production perfectly.

Like Howard Barker, Edward Bond is admirably stubborn. He has no use for the conventional worries of entertaining the audience in a predictable way, or offering an easy way out. It is almost taxing, seeing this Bingo of his. The narrative is barely there: glimpses of the last months of Shakespeare's life, barely a plot at all. The hero is no such thing: he sees injustices but he is too coward to do anything about it, too preocupied with his own status and comfort, when he regrets not helping out, it's too late, redemption is too feeble, his death is mediocre and petty. It is a grim business and you have to work hard through it. Bond is always demanding with his audiences. But there is much of worth to be found here. The sense of alienation, usual in Bond, works. It's not meant to be a period piece but you get the feeling that these are real people of their times, the clothes are worn just like the faces. The production works for the play and its ideas, it's austere but rich, the settling, the lights, everything, as a production is top-notch. The cast is solid for the most part, with the always reliable Jason Watkins, and hey how nice to see Alex Price, the best thing that ever happened to BBC's Merlin - he is one to watch, full of energy and anger and focus.

Chichester is worth a visit: Edward Bond is, Patrick Stewart is, and if not, there's always the Arundel Tomb and the gorgeous breakfasts at The Buttery.

REVIEW: Private Lives, Vaudeville Theatre, 19 March 2010

2010-04-20T04:40:00.000-07:00

Neither with you nor without you.

Of course there are an awful lot of "Oh Dear"s involved. And an awful lot of "Awful"s and "Positively"s and "Precisely"s and all sorts of adverbs that tell us that we are, unmistakenly, in a 1920s-1930s comedy of high society and misunderstandings. There's also quite a repeated use of the word "Cad" (to describe Matthew Macfadyen's character) which makes the audience cringe and feel nostalgic at the same time.

It's a thoroughly predictable affair, the way ex-husband and wife Elyot and Amanda meet each other after years while on their respective honeymoons with their respective, adequately dull and pathetic, new partners. One gets out the theatre with a terrible urge to pop in one's DVD copy of The Philadelphia Story. That's usually the case with Noel Coward, isn't it? - Not that I know, as this was my first Noel Coward production.

But underneath all that wit and charm and misunderstanding and inspired one-liners (my favourite American sitcom, Frasier, owes so much to Coward, after all) one appreciates the touch of darkness, the violence and, above all, the frank depiction of sex and sexual desire the play offers. Richard Eyre's production is incredibly charming and aptly superficial; there are many interesting things about these characters but they are never explored, except by chance and perhaps by the actors accidentally scratching beneath the surface. No matter how much I enjoyed the performance I was a bit underwhelmed by the shallowness of the whole business; and by the audience incapacity to follow theatre etiquette. I wondered: Have this people never been to a play before? There was clapping during the performance, and talking and general rudeness.

(As a side note, yes, I agree with the elderly woman in the first row with us: 49 pounds IS A SCAM for what can only be described as "restricted view" seats. We paid them because we have been waiting to see Matthew Macfadyen for ages, but it is a scandal. For some mysterious reason the Vaudeville's usual policy of having Day Tickets didn't apply to this play, possibly because of the limited run. So yes, we were utterly robbed.)

As for the acting, the ensemble worked very well. It was a strong cast and the performance had no cracks on its armour. Kim Catrall didn't jar but she wasn't impressive either - she had easily the most likeable character of the four and did well with it, even if a couple of times she didn't ring as true as she should: her confusion and conflicted emotions upon finding herself attracted to Elyot again lacked the honesty of Macfadyen's reactions, for one. Her Amanda is charming and sympathetic, but there's the nagging feeling she could have done so much more with the part. Predictably (at least for us, because we rate him so) Matthew Macfadyen delivered the best performance; more aware that he is actually in a tragedy within a comedy, his Elyot is appalling, short-tempered and sexist, but his claims at flippancy are only skin-deep. There was a moment when he declares "I'm depressed" to Amanda's husband and sits on stage like a beaten dog, and what at first drew laughs from the audience in a moment of true theatrical magic turned into a moment of genuine emotion, as Macfadyen allowed Elyot a bit of self-reflection and loneliness. And on top of all that, he is amazingly funny. His perfomance was unusual, his Elyot nervous and exquisitely camp at times - one almost wishes Macfadyen to reprise Colin Firth's role in Relative Values, also by Coward. Simon Paisley Day and Lisa Dillon are both excellent as Amanda's and Elyot's mismatched new partners and as clichéd as their roles might be they never forget to add that touch of subtle humanity to their characters. The four actors have perfect comic timing and the humour of the play relies so much on the physical, refreshing when considered how verbal Coward's wit is.

All in all, the play might not haunt our memory as a life-changing experience, but it sure was a good night out.

Other reviews:
The Guardian.
musicOMH.
There Ought To Be Clowns.
West End Whingers.
Telegraph.

MUSIC: Rufus Wainwright @ Sadler's Wells - 13 April 2010

2010-04-14T08:23:00.000-07:00

Cracking jokes about Wagner and Alistair Crowe and being appropriately arrogant and self-deprecating about his own debut as opera writer Rufus Wainwright presented his new upcoming record - All Days Are Night: Songs For Lulu - in London last night, in a concert as uncompromising and awe-inspiring as ever.

The new album is equally inspired by Shakespeare's sonnets and by Louise Brooks' rendition of Lulu, directed by Pabst. It is a musically-sparse, heartwrenching record, with Wainwright at the piano without any orchestra, unlike his previous, grand album Release The Stars. The new songs took up the first half of his performance at Sadler's Wells, sung in order and without breaks, in costume, surrounded by bits of the set for Prima Donna, all very theatrical. Of the dozen of times I have seen Wainwright in concert (yes, long-time fan here) I don't think I've ever heard his voice sound so well - sharp and healthy and powerful. He gets better and better each year. Despite his frequent false-starts and fuck-ups (more in the second half of the show) he is also a very compelling pianist. Even if the evening lacked his guitar-based classics ("California" or "Gay Messiah" I missed the most) it was a memorable chance to see a piano-only concert from Wainwright.

The new songs are spectacular and highlights included the rendering of Shakespeare's "A Woman's Face" and the ode of an old high school crush, "Zebulon". It's still too new an album to review it properly - by the time I see Wainwright at Oxford next month, or in the Kenwood House concert series in July, I will be more able to go past the "Oh My God! New Rufus Wainwright music!" stage that comes with each new released material. The new stuff is more direct but no less poetic; it shows Wainwright's determination of stepping out his comfort zone every time he seems successful with a formula. After flying as high as he could with the baroque and full of light Release The Stars it seems like Wainwright goes back to the basic, to see if his songs can work at their minimal expression. Only the true artist is so restless.

The second half of the show was more informal: Rufus Wainwright, out of coustume, and speaking to the audience, joking and moaning and laughing (& sharing one genuine moment of emotion as he talked about her late mother, the folk singer Kate McGarrigle). The playlist was compelling, oddly nostalgic in ways (he played "Millbrook", "Foolish Love") and even surprising. The real highlight of the night (apart from Wainwright covering one of his mother's songs) was "Dinner at Eight", chosen by the fans to be performed through the artist's official website.

bits & odds

2010-03-22T11:43:00.000-07:00

- Yes, you all saw it. The Oliviers (see, for example, Webcowgirl's account here) were last night and The Mountaintop is the success story of the year. If anything, it makes for some interesting debate: the Guardian asks if this will be a boost to the black theatre in UK.

- On the other hand, Ruth Wilson looked very pretty. That's almost enough to calm my fury at my favourite plays of the year not being even nominated. At least there was a win for Cock so I'm counting it as an Andrew Scott win.

- National Theatre pictures of their production The White Guard, starring among others our favourite Pip Carter.

- Speaking of the National Theatre and how it continues to love me personally, one of my favourite actors in the whole world, Benedict Cumberbatch, has been cast in the upcoming production of Terence Rattigan's After the Dance, directed by Thea Sharrock. In other Benedict Cumberbatch news, there was a nice article in The Guardian this week about Steven Moffatt's Sherlock that's worth a read. (thanks to the wonderful Sherlocking site for the heads up)

- The Sheffield Telegraph has a new video in its website with a backstage tour of everybody's (well, at least mine) favourite theatre, the Crucible and the improvements made in its £15.3 million redevelopment.

- Article on the Times about the Royal Court's production of Posh, by Laura Wade, starting next April Downstairs, with a cast including the very talented Leo Bill and the promising Tom Mison.

- The Classical Serial at BBC Radio 4 is being extremely brilliant with its adaptation of Samuel Richardson's Clarissa, starring Richard Armitage and Zoe Waites. Not to be missed.

Review: Ghosts, Duchess Theatre, 20 March 2010

2010-03-21T06:02:00.000-07:00

I think Ibsen is an acquired taste: I came upon this revelation during my trip to Sheffield to see An Enemy of the People at the gorgeous new Crucible. I mean, the first time I encountered Ibsen (at college) I didn't like it very much. And even when I saw new versions by authors I like (Lucy Kirkwood's Hedda) or excellent productions (the Donmar's A Doll's House) I remained lukewarm.

Then last year I attended a small rehearsed reading of Ghosts at the Young Vic, version via Frank McGuiness, directed by Ian Glenn and with Lesley Sharp and my favourite Tom Brooke as mother and son. It was a powerful piece of theatre, despite it being a reading (although many of my favourite theatrical experiences have come by the way of readings) and started turning my head around about Ibsen. I guess it will always remain my favourite work from him and even if the scandal that the mentioning of syphillis caused in Ibsen's era might sound alien to modern audience Ghosts is every bit as much a poignant, taxing and moving play as when it was written.

So why is it that the power of that rehearsed reading doesn't translate as well to a finished production? Even though I didn't dislike this play as much, I can understand the sense of bafflement from one of my favourite theatre bloggers about the piece. I still think the early notices are unfair but there is something severly lacking here. It's not the actors - Lesley Sharp is as fabulous and refreshing as ever, she gives an unhindered Mrs.Alving and that performance only is worth the money of the ticket. Glenn's Manders is as spineless in comparsion as he should be, on the verge of pathetic but sympathetic just for that. Harry Treadaway does a comendable job in a hard, vital role - but I'm afraid that I spent most of the play remembering Harry Lloyd's take on the character in the Arcola production last year. Lloyd's Oswald will be hard to forget in years to come, I'm afraid, but still Treadaway seems like a great hope for the future, we must remember his stage debut was only last year, and he did brilliantly, in Mark Ravenhill's Over There. I was also cheered by the presence of Jessica Raine as Regina: I feel as if I had seen this girl grow up, after her great performances in Harper Regan and Gethsemane at the National.

Maybe it was the elaborated set and costumes; although I appreciated the airy and well-lit stage, a change from the usual dark and somber productions. Maybe the play worked better in the reading because of its rawness, with minimal props and some light effects. Maybe it's that I believe this play should be performed without interval. Maybe it was the early notices affecting the whole mood. Whatever the case, I didn't find it as poignant. The audience, icy, might have contributed. I left the theatre (after spotting Dominic Cooke some seats behind me, by the way) oddly unsatisfied.

Other reviews:
The Telegraph.
musicOMH.
There Ought To Be Clowns.
The Londonist.
The Independent.

Review: Six Degrees of Separation, Old Vic, 10 March 2010

2010-03-13T09:10:00.000-08:00

photo by Martin Pope

I rather like how the brilliant Aleks Sierz calls this play "insubstantial" in his review because what I felt when I came out of the Old Vic theatre after this matinee was absolute numbness. I had wasted my time with this - fortunately not my money, as the tickets were free.

The story of con-man Paul and his upper class victims in their hollow lives of money and conventions won the Olivier award in 1993 and as I read this fact in the shiny but pricey programme I wondered if 1992 had been a particularly bad year in the British theatre or if the Oliviers have always as nonesensical as in recent years. Maybe I am being injustifiably cruel: Six Degrees of Separation is not a bad play. It is not, in my opinion, a good play either.

Everything about the play just sounded bland and unsubtle. It had the makings of a great play but ultimately no punch to it. And this was not because of the production - although it is a very forgetteable one - but because of the writing. Neither the plot or the themes seemed to grab my attention and the characters were not engaging, hard as they tried. Only Lesley Manville and her natural brilliance, made me sympatize a bit with her Ouisa but at the same time it made me wonder about what a waste her performance was, wishing I was back at National seeing Her Naked Skin. Everybody else was bland, and the only funny and truthful moments came when the teenage sons and daughters of the lead characters were on stage, hilariously grumpy and clichéd to the point where one can't help but fondness for the kids. Paul had some interest as a character, if only a more charming actor than Obi Abili had played him. One can imagine that in the play's debut at the Royal Court things were a lot different, they had Adrian Lester then. Like Phil from the Whingers I found these people and the play oddly irritating.

In short, a morning wasted but at least I hadn't paid for it so I came out shrugging rather than in a bitter fit.

Other reviews:
The Telegraph.
The Times.
West End Whingers.
The Stage.
The Guardian.
Interval Drinks.
The Independent.

An Enemy Of The People, Sheffield Crucible, 11 Feb 2010

2010-02-13T12:15:00.000-08:00

Where theatre moves you.

Art should move you. Intimately. Violently. Sometimes, even, physically. Like in this case: theatre made me take a train to a city I didn't know to a theatre I had never been to. It's part of the fun. I treasure those journeys - sometimes lonely, hard, miserable journeys - I've made just to see a good piece of theatre. Or a particular actor. Those trips to Straford-upon-Avon because of the RSC. That very memorable journey to the unknown aka Stafford and its castle to see Joseph Millson's Hamlet. Oh yes now that you mention Hamlet... My visit to the newly rebuilt, born-again Sheffield Crucible (now under the guidance of AD Daniel Evans, wonderful actor and great speaker during the latest Royal Court anniversary celebrations) served a double purpose: I went to see Lucy Cohu in the role of Katrine - the wife of the lead Dr.Stockmann, played by Anthony Sher - because last year's Speaking in Tongues still burns in my memory as my favourite piece of theatre and Cohu was an essential factor in that, becoming part of the "Actors I would go anywhere to see perform" list that I have. On the other hand I wanted to familiarize myself with the city and with the theatre because since the annoucement of John Simm future involment taking on the role of Hamlet in a Crucible production next autumn I have been curious (and excited) about this building, this place and its dynamic - and because I suspect, come September, I'll be making a lot of trips to Sheffield, so I'd better start learning train timetables and streets layouts. Theatre moves me. Literally.

On the other hand I have come to the conclusion that Ibsen is an acquired taste, at least in my case. I had always been afraid to admit it but I found Ibsen's plays a bit... well, a bit boring, actually. Maybe it had to do with the fact that my final essays for drama classes at college had to be about Chekov, Beckett and Ibsen and after reading Ibsen's plays I found them completely unexciting compared to the other two authors. "Not for me" I decided. But then slowly, things started to change. Lucy Kirkwood's version of Hedda Gabler wasn't exactly a succees but it made re-examine my prejudices. And then came the rehearsed reading of Ghosts at the Old Vic with Lesley Sharp, Ian Glenn and Tom Brooke that was actually sublime by the end. And the Donmar's A Doll's House in an energetic version by Zinnie Harris and perfect performances from Chris Eccleston, Tara Fitzgerald, Toby Stephens and Anton Lesser. Then Ghosts again at the Arcola with a magnificent Harry Lloyd. I started to think "Well maybe Ibsen is for me".

Maybe I should have started with An Enemy of the People. It tells a very political story about a man doing the right thing even if that costs him everything that is dear to him - I have a soft spot for those stories (specially in film, from Mr.Smith Goes To Washington to Good Night And Good Luck) and here Ibsen delivers a classic one. Dr. Stockmann (Anthony Sher) is a well-known and well-loved citizen of a small town in Norway. Together with his brother Peter, the Mayor of the town, he is helping develop the new baths of the village, expected to bring tourism and prosperity. But just as the dream of this wonderful enterprise seems close to coming true Dr.Stockmann discovers that the local tannery is contaminating the waters of the town and that the new baths could be very dangerous for the health of those using them. He expects that this discovery will have a great impact on the city - the bath will have to close and a long time will be needed until the waters are safe and healthy again. But much to his bafflemente the authorities (including and specially his brother) try to silence his discovery. What's more, the townspeople refuse to believe Stockmann and give up their dream of prosperity. They treat him like a lunatic who's lying to them, they start harassing him and his family, even his friends turn on him, until Stockmann denounces that the individual is wiser than the multitude and the strong man stands alone against a brainless community.

There are two important themes going on here: first, the individual against the masses. An Enemy of the People was written by Ibsen as a response of the general public's rejection of his previous play, the polemic Ghosts. As such it's a play with a very clear agenda. Amazingly enough this does not hurt the quality of the play, as it happens in many occasions when an author tackles a very particular political subject he feels passional about. An Enemy of the People is not preachy, it's fantastic theatre that makes you feel what Ibsen wanted you to: anger at the sense of injustice, and impotence. Here the good man, the hero, is treated by the people of his own town like a villain, like a theatre. At the same time Ibsen tells the story of the sacrifices Stockmann has to make to defend his beliefs. Not just to his status but the comfort of his family. Stories of martyrs, or those who refuse to be, in the name of what they believe to be the right, just choice have always fascinated me: theatre has seen many great version of this dilemma, from Life of Galileo to The Winslow Boy to Every Good Boy Deserves A Favour. It's easy to believe yourself uncompromising but what's the price you pay?

Great, engaging play, then. Christopher Hampton's version full of energy and a good deal of comedy. And the theatre? Well, to put it simply the Crucible is beautiful. Classy, easy to walk through, and the staff are helpful. I was hoping to buy a proper programme but they didn't have (I wondered, panicked, will they have them for Hamlet?). There was a delightful art exhibition with paintings and drawings by Anthony Sher, very enjoyable. And the stage? The stage was breathtaking. The seats on a semi-circle around it, every seat has amazing view. Designer Ben Stone made used of its possibilities with a simple, open and gorgeous set. Ibsen is usually all dark and confined spaces but this production let the play breathe and it was a clever move. It wasn't afraid of being epic (this play is epic, let's face it). This was a stage made for the epic and the intimate at the same time.

As for the performances, Daniel Evans has reunited a very solid cast - though I'll be straight here and admit I wasn't very impressed by Anthony Sher. This was the first time I ever saw him in theatre and I wasn't starstruck as I guessed I'd be, given his good reputation. He was good but at times a bit tiring, his acting too grand. It added a nice ambiguity to the character (if Stockmann believes himself to be so much bigger-than-life it's easy to imagine how he throws himself so happily at the possibility of being a moral hero, martyrdom and all) but in the end it made it harder to connect with Stockmann. Another kind of actor - perhaps more low-key - would have transformed this great production into something complately unforgettable. What was really unforgettable was Lucy Cohu's performance as Stockmann's wife - it was strange at first, after all those times I saw her in Speaking in Tongues - to see her embody another character. Cohu excells at being quietly powerful here, and she handles the complexity of Katrine (she knows she should fight for the good cause of her husband but at times her earthly desire for a comfortable life gets the better of her, but in the end she comes through) admirably. Against Sher's vitality she might seem subdued but there is a strength to her performance that makes the character completely believable. The rest of the cast - with John Shrapnel as Stockmann's brother - is very reliable if not actually brilliant, and under Daniel Evans' flawless direction they work together and mesh perfectly.

Theatre moves you, if it's worth anything at all. Sometimes it takes you to really great places, like the Sheffield Crucible.

Review: The Priory, Royal Court, 5 January 2010

2010-01-21T11:06:00.000-08:00

It's nice when theatre surprises you like this.

I was regarding my assitance to a performance of The Priory at the Royal Court as something of a chore. On one hand, it was unavoidable, because Joseph Millson was in it and I always make a point of not missing any of his performances (even if that means travelling great lengths). On the other hand if it weren't for Mr.Millson's involvement in it The Priory is the kind of play I would normally avoid on a first glance: it sounded like a silly comedy and it had Rupert Penry-Jones in the cast.

So in the end I decided to get some standing tickets with really REALLY restricted view for the price of 10 pence.

And to my surprise, well, it was a pretty funny play. The setting is familiar (a group of friends decide to spend New Year's together in a country house and a series of complications and misunderstandings follow) and the situations and characters clichéd but it had a solid cast (even mediocre Penry-Jones was quite decent and not as annoying as usual) and it got genuine laughs from me, more to do with the actors' delivery than with the wit of the writing but still. A good way to spend a morning.

And of course amidst all this sitcom-esque, familiar but effective hilariousness it was Joseph Millson who stole the show as he often does (like Andrew Scott he is the kind of actor who should not be allowed to interact with other humans, because he puts the rest to shame) in a role that could have been easily disgraceful: Daniel, the gay friend this kind of farce usually has, would have been a cardboard of a character but Millson gives him unusual depth. Kudos to Charlotte Riley as well, playing energetic and irritating Laura, a stranger come into this circle of friends. And Jessica Hynes, whose character is the heart and spine of the play, she is sympathetic but sharp. It is her onstage chemistry with Millson that results in the best moments of the play, it is when these two characters connect that this entertaining but innocuous comedy achieves moments of actual and honest theatre magic. I was not expecting that.

It was nice to be proven wrong.

Other reviews:
The Guardian.
The Independent.
The Times.
musicOMH.
The Stage.
Sans Taste.
West End Whingers.

Review: The Caretaker, Trafalgar Studios, 15 January 2010

2010-01-16T13:03:00.000-08:00

Despite his horrible career choices (bad movies and questionable musicals) there's no doubt Jonathan Pryce is one of the most talented actors one can ever hope to see. His performance last year in the Donmar's Dimetos was one of the most remarkable theatrical experiences of my life. And this Caretaker might not be as touching as that but it is still an intense pleasure of a night at the theatre.

The marriage between Pinter's always sharp and eternally fresh writing and Pryce's talent is a winning combination. Pryce's Davies, the tramp that finds himself inmersed in a confuse powerplay between two brothers as he just tries to land a place to sleep in, dominates the scene with more energy than one would have imagined. His principal drive is mistrust, almost paranoia but the audience begins to share his suspicions as Peter McDonald's Aston and Sam Spruell's Mick turn out to be more than meets eye in this attractive production, transferred to the Trafalgar after its success.

The production itself is a bit flat at times - I'd like more darkness, a lot more of surrealism - but it is greatly effective and I could tell the audience was having a great time, which often is a tricky thing with Pinter, so wonderfully weird he is. And the actors were superbly directed. In such a tight and tense three-handler it is vital to have everybody working at top game. Peter McDonald had already caught my eye alongside Pryce in the West End revival of Glengarry Glen Ross and here he proves to be a relieable actors with a great stage presence- his Aston is very alien and detached, he feels hollowed out and when the reveal of his past in the mental hospital comes around it all clicks into place. He can seem helpless and edgy at the same time. At first I had my doubts about Spruell and his thuggish Mick but by the end of the play I was won over; his is a complex and clever performance, he gives the character pathos and charisma without losing the sense of threat. Both actors should be very happy of not only keeping their ground against a formidable Pryce but also completing him, and achieving that often elusive animal: a united, coherent cast.

Other reviews:
The Guardian.
musicOMH.
The Independent.
The Telegraph.
The Times.

Harry Lloyd interview + more

2009-12-19T03:34:00.000-08:00

This month's Gay Times features an interview with Harry Lloyd about the upcoming West End play The Little Dog Laughed at the Garrick Theatre: (click on the pics for full scans)

+ Interview with Tom Goodman-Hill in the Angel Magazine. (thanks spiffyjellybean for the heads-up)
+ Interview with Julian Rhind-Tutt in the Evening Standard.
+ How We Met: Alexander Armstrong and Ben Miller.
+ Both Damian-Lewis.com and Momentary Bursts of Enthusiam have scans of last weekend's Sunday Times special about British theatre, featuring (among other favourites of this blog) John Simm.
+ On top of the Hampstead Theatre having their Anton Chekov anniversary celebrations BBC Radio (through Radio 3, Radio 4 and Radio 7) join in the party with a series of radio plays, essays and special programmes about the Russian writer. Read the press release. Ben Whishaw and Simon Russell Beale are to take part.

Review: The Misanthrope, Comedy Theatre, 14 Dec 09

2009-12-16T03:16:00.000-08:00

First a head-up: I do like Keira Knightley. I think in the hands of good directors she can give very good performances. So unlike 90% of the blogosphere I went to the theatre with a positive opinion of her and willing to cut the girl some slack.

We saw a very preview-ish preview of The Misanthrope. They were still trying things out with the lightning and the actors still seemed unsure of their choices about the characters. I can predict that the play will get better and better along the run. Knightley seemed like the new girl, yes, not in terms of her ability but in the sense that it was clear she was the one with the least experience onstage. That should also fix itself within the next weeks of playing.

This particular version of Moliere's play (for many his masterpiece & I have to admit my personal favourite as well) is Martin Crimp's adaptation from 1995, with the necessary tinkering to adapt it to 2009 of course.

It's all a bit childish, really and I must admit I was amused by the pettiness of some of the play's attacks on out Tabloid Society; Crimp delivers some very funny turns of phrase and the verse works perfectly. There's an adolescent delight in his own cleverness that I enjoy, even if it's not proper memorable theatre. Delight, yes, there's a lot of that, and a lot of fun but I think the play loses gravitas and importance through this version and it's hard to fully engage with a story where the characters doesn't seem to have so much at stake in the first place. It doesn't seem like Alceste is a honest hero whose desire for truth at any cost might get him into trouble. You never feel that his convictions are that important to him, just that he lives to annoy and oppose, just because it amuses him. That makes his infatuation with Jennifer - who seems to embody all he detests but not really - lose a lot of his punch.

It's a solid cast but some of the acting choices I wasn't so keen on. In part it might be the writing but Damian Lewis' Alceste is not the champion of honesty we were waiting for. He is childish and rude, not straightforward, and Lewis plays him in a way that's easy to caricaturize him. He is not very sympathetic, specially when he turns jealous boyfriend to Jennifer. We see him as shallow from the beginning so his fall from grace doesn't affect us as it should. Lewis is a very good actor, and very funny, and he could make an extraordinary Alceste - see him in Friends and Crocodiles - if he chose to play him with some more weight to his philosophy. And I could have done with less histrionics.

On the other hand Keira Knightley is not as good an actor as Lewis and yet her choices were, in my opinion, smarter. Through Knightley we see Jennifer as someone that's more like Alceste than not and she has the intelligence to highlight this, giving us reasons why he fell in love with her in the first time. Jennifer is smart, sharp, and sees things as they are, and it's a very conscious choice for her to follow the rules of the game. There's hypocrisy to her, but Knightley makes sure that the audience understands it's a kind of hypocrisy radically different to that of people around her and Alceste. There's a cruel streak to her that's quite ugly but she charms her way out of it. Alceste's demands on her are absurd and many a time the audience finds themselves siding with Jennifer.

Thea Sharrock surrounds her two leads with a strong supporting cast. It's wonderful to see Tara Fitzgerald on stage again, after her impressive performance in the Donmar's A Doll's House; here she plays Marcia, Jennifer's old acting teacher, and her performance is positively larger-than-life. Even if it's no acting challenge, Fitzgerald adds no little technique and charm to her part.

Of all people on stage that night Dominic Rowan was the one to make most of an impression on me and my theatre-going companion, despite his limited stage-time. He seemed most at easy with the verse and gave a calm, seemingly effortless performance. I look forward to seeing more of him in the future. Kelly Price offers a great performance as tabloid journalist and professional traitor Ellen, and seems - with Dominic Rowan - like the most relaxed of them all onstage. The supporting cast is all very efficent but still struggling to really shine, unpolished. It must be hard handling with characters that are more caricatures than actual people.

I loved the set, huge and cold, and some of the direction and design was very clever - specially the ending, with a very adequate mood of a zombie movie. It was less of an "event" that journalists might want to see in it, indeed it was proper theatre, even if some of its elements weren't totally satisfying for me.

There's is something just obvious enough about casting Keira Knightley in a play that deals with and ridicules our obssession with celebrities and shallow fame. The play's delight with its own cleverness steps over the line of being too much but never crosses it, never goes into Rupert Goold Territory of Obvious. So it's still good fun.

Martin Crimp writes about this revival.

Reviews:
The Guardian.
The Times.
The Independent.
Whatsonstage.
Webcowgirl.

Casting News (We Love Those)

2009-12-11T03:30:00.000-08:00

+ The news have been broken a week ago or so but finally it's confirmed. John Simm will play Hamlet in the Sheffield Crucible's production of Shakespeare's play. It's their first Shakespeare too. Directing will be Paul Miller, which is great news, cause he did a great job with Elling and a flawless job with the difficult The Enchantment at the National. He is unintrusive and actors-focused and low key and if you ask me that's exactly what Hamlet needs. Good luck to everyone and see you in Sheffield in the autumn.

+ In other Sheffield Crucible news, Lucy Cohu will join the cast of Ibsen's An Enemy of the People, starring Anthony Sher. Cohu is arguably my favourite actress of the stage 2009 and the true revelation of the season so it's good to see her going on to more theatre, after an absence of years before Speaking in Tongues. Artistic chief Daniel Evans will direct An Enemy of the People and we love Mr.Evans big time. Big time.

+ Now some London news. The upcoming Donmar production of Mark Haddon's Polar Bears will star Richard Coyle and Jodhi May. I'm still suspicious about Haddon's writing skills (never bought the hype over The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time) but I liked Richard Coyle a lot in Pinter's The Lover/The Collection at the Comedy last year. And Jodhi May. Aw, Jodhi May, she is wonderful. It will be quite a thrill to see her in theatre, after her luminous presence in Peter Greenaway's Nightwatching and the BBC's rather uneven mini-series adaptation of Jane Austen's Emma.

+ Earlier this week it was announced that Romola Garai would be returning to the stage for Filter's production of Chekov's Three Sisters at the Lyric Hammersmith. Now, this is an example of absolutely PERFECT casting news. First, Filter already amazed me with their Twelfth Night at the Tricycle last season. And it's Chekov! So Three Sisters is not my favourite Chekov but still it beats almost any other night out, and I normally like Christopher Hampton's versions. Plus Romola Garai. I remember seeing her many years ago playing Lucia Beckett in Michael Hastings' Calico and the impression she left was enduring indeed.

+ Finally a bad news/good news thing. The much expected (at least by me) production of Ibsen's Ghosts at the Duchess Theatre, starring Lesley Sharp and Ian Glen (and directed by Glen), will not have Tom Brooke as Oswald as it did when it was presented in a rehearsed reading at the Young Vic. Brooke was a great Oswald and it's a pity that he can't reprise that role. The good news is that the part of Oswald now goes to Harry Treadaway, who was most impressive in Mark Ravenhill's Over There and I confess to being a big fan. So it almost makes up for the absence of Brooke.

Radio picks for the next days

2009-12-09T04:23:00.000-08:00

Interesting actors and writing lined up for these next days on the Afternoon/Friday/Saturday Play on BBC Radio 4 and Radio 3. Radio dramas are the light of my life, I tell you. Pity that BBC only makes these available for people in the UK. I remember being very frustrated with this when I still lived in Spain.

The Contingency Plan by Steve Waters. (Sunday 13th Dec, 20:00 Radio 3)

A powerful new version of the play originally staged at The Bush Theatre in London, addressing the subject of climate change. As Britain faces unprecedented and catastrophic floods, government and scientists argue over what action to take. A young glaciologist arrives in Whitehall determined to convince the powers that be of the importance of immediate action. But he is also bent on avenging his father, a scientist whose views were discredited a generation ago.

Will Paxton ...... Joseph Kloska
Sarika Chatterjee ...... Vineeta Rishi
Robin Paxton ...... Robin Soans
Jenny Paxton ...... Susan Brown
Christopher Casson ...... David Bark-Jones
Tessa Fortnum ...... Stella Gonet
Colin Jenks ...... Michael Elwyn

Producer/Director: Peter Leslie Wild.

Getting to Four Degress by Sarah Woods. (Thursday 10th Dec, 14:15, Radio 4)

What if we can't limit global warming to two degrees? What if it reaches four degrees - or more? Three real-life climate change experts spin one average family into the future, to look at life on a warmer planet.
With Professor Kevin Anderson, Mark Lynas and Dr Emma Tompkins.

Ian ...... Don Gilet
Sue ...... Kate Ashfield
Chloe ...... Amber Beattie
Jack ...... Ryan Watson
Grandad Bill ...... Bruce Alexander
Louisa ...... Melissa Advani
Narrator ...... Emerald O'Hanrahan

Directed by Jonquil Panting.

Guilty Until Proven Innocent by Deborah Davis. (Wednesday 16th Dec, 14:15, Radio 4)

When Dina and Jake rush their baby daughter to hospital, little do they realise that it is the beginning of a Kafkaesque nightmare from which it seems there is no escape.
Dina ...... Maxine Peake
Jake ...... Dan Stevens

With Kate Layden, David Hargreaves, Melissa Advani, Joseph Cohen-Cole, Tessa Nicholson, Rhys Jennings, Piers Wehner and Nigel Pilkington.

Directed by Tracey Neale.

The Middle by Amelia Bullmore. (Saturday 12th Dec, 14:30, Radio 4)

Clare is the golden middle sister in a family headed by a formidable matriarch, Luca. Clare meets and quickly marries Martin, who falls just as much in love with her fun, sparky family. But Martin makes a mistake and sets in train a series of events which brings the family to its knees.

Clare ...... Emma Cunniffe
Martin ...... Ben Miles
Nicky ...... Anna Madeley
Justine ...... Eve Matheson
Luca ...... Paola Dionisotti
Karl ...... Nigel Pilkington
Owen ...... Baxter Willis
Mick ...... John Biggins
Ed ...... Piers Wehner
Donna ...... Melissa Advani

Directed by Mary Peate.

Cock, Royal Court, 4 Dic 2009

2009-12-08T09:58:00.000-08:00

The most played-with title of the theatre season, Mike Bartlett's Cock had, by the time I saw it (after three failed attempts & much queueing), a bit of a reputation. And yes, jokes still have to be made.

And it had a bit of a reputation rightly so - this is one of the most exciting new plays of the year.

Last year Mike Bartlett turned in a great monologue for the Bush Theatre's Broken Space Season, He Said... played by the wonderful Tom Brooke. It was a significant quality leap from his earlier plays (My Child, Artefacts...) and signalled a new direction for his work. Cock sees that promise fulfilled.

The story is apparently simple: John has a boyfriend but falls in love with a girl. He goes back to his boyfriend but still has feelings for the woman. He wants them both. He can't decide. That indecision will cost him his happiness. Or not.

Although Cock is a sharp examination of sexual orientation, its fluidity and our society's stubborn wish to box and categorize it, it's not the only theme explored in these 80 minutes. These characters are not examples, they are living, breathing people, wonderfully particular, gorgeous drawn by Bartlett; the text is full of poetry and details (the teddy bears discussion).

And it is very funny as well.

This production is exemplarily sparse - but that's a writer's choice rather than a directors, on the playtext Bartlett clearly indicates no set, no props, no warbrode, no mime. Unconventional writing needs to be staged unconventionally and this is the perfect example of a play where writing and production are perfectly in synch. So many theatres should take James McDonald's example in this.

A hard, white lighting job means the audience can see everything, all the other members of the audience - you see the other's face and wonder at their reactions to Mike Bartlett's timely stab at identity politics.

For me the play reaches its peak when it plunges into the dark waters of long-term relationships and their misery. John and M are so finaly observed (& acted) that it actually hurts to look at them, be witness of their games of tenderness and cruelty. That's why, very cleverly structured, the scenes between John and the woman come in as a relief, gentle and poetic, fleeting and wondruous. The comparsion between an old relationship and one that is just starting, with all its hope and self-delusion.

I have to admit that, for me, the play loses a bit of its punch as it becomes a dinner date farce (father of the boyfriend included) the cast and the ordinary tragedy of the unresolved ending makes up for it. A shame, because the first half is just such a perfect piece of writing.

"Some people might think you were scrawny but I think you're like a picture drawn with a pencil. I like it. You haven't been coloured in, you're all

Wire."

Photograph: Tristram Kenton

And then there's the cast. Funnily enough I had just come out of a screening of Jane Campion's film, Bright Star before going to the Royal Court, so I had fresh in my mind the possibility of Ben Whishaw being quite terrible (Bright Star is a stale, mediocre affair). But I had also seen him in theatre twice before so I wasn't anxious. Whishaw is indeed brilliant in the lead role. He gives the character a nervous energy that makes the audience sympathize a lot; John is a tricky part, weak and indecisive and capable of knowingly hurting the people who love him and it's thanks to Whishaw that he doesn't come off as entirely appalling. He is not charming but he is just likeable enough. The scene where he has sex with the woman for the first time (great, great writing) is particularly striking, the delicacy with which Whishaw plays John in it, his fear and exciment.

Katherine Parkinson on the other hand is matter-of-factly and wonderful. It is crucial for the audience to buy John's enchanment with this woman. Mainly known for her comedy roles (specially in the cult hit The IT Crowd, which I confess to adoring as well) Parkinson proves just how well she can do in drama. Still funny (the script is very funny in itself) she treads a fragile ground between instinctive and too-much, she charms her way without effort, into John's heart and bed.

In a supporting role Paul Jesson (after being part of the wonderful Bridge Project at the Old Vic last summer) does a good job of a difficult character: M's father loves his son so he will go to lengths to help him win John back. He comes across as patronizing, forceful and sometimes appalling but the acting never lets you lose sight of why he does this.

But of course it's Andrew Scott as John's boyfriend who makes the evening truly memorable. And I say "of course" because by now I'm not shy of saying that I believe Andrew Scott is the most-gifted actor of the British stage right now. He's in a league of his own. The confidence with which he handles the role of M is a sight in itself. Over-the-top and bullying Scott lends M his natural charm so that the audience can't condemn him wholly. You are always aware of how afraid of losing John he is. How unsatisfied he is. How insecure. In a lesser actor's hands M would be insufferable, but Scott paints a a very human, pathetic portrait of a man too clever to not notice the cracks in his relationship. The staging helps him as well - this is how Andrew Scott should be experienced (because he is, himself, his skills, a theatrical experience), up close, on a bare stage, in the round.

Yes, yes, a wonderful Cock (no, the jokes will never die). This is why new writing is so important, plays like this one. This is what Upstairs does so well. Like Webcowgirl said in her wonderful review, plays like Cock are the reason why we go to the theatre week after week.

Reviews:
The Guardian.
The Telegraph.
The Independent.
musicOMH.
West End Whingers.

news, press, casting news.

2009-12-02T02:12:00.000-08:00

The Bush Theatre launches Bush Green, a new play-sharing site.

+ The Guardian: People of Are Making British Theatre Happen. Quotes from actors, directors and writers about the good health of the British theatre right now. Nice to see the work of people like Josie Rourke and Ian Rickson noticed like this. I would be more inclined to agree with the celebrations of a new British renaissance if new writing was actually into making something new, but there have been few braves ones in the last two years.

+ On the other hand, and in The Guardian as well, Michael Billington argues that British theatre has cause for concerns as well as celebrations. He raises a valid point about neglecting the classics and shying away from new work in musicals.

+ Bush Green goes live. The Bush Theatre's new play-sharing website could, on paper, change the rules of the game in the relationship between writers and theatres. At the very least it should make the process of submitting a play to the Bush easier and swifter (but do we really want that?). I'll try it with my new play (when it's finished) and see what happens.

+ Anne-Marie Duff interview at the Manchester Evening. As dissapointed as Enid (despite Joe Millson's blink-and-you-miss-it presence) and Gracie! were the latest installement of Women We Loved at BBC4, Margot, pretty much made up for it. Not just because of the quality of the script or the acting but because, unlike the other two dramas, it was shot with some originality and sensitivity by Otto Bathurst (who had already impressed us with Criminal Justice).

+ Speaking of telly, Anton Lesser will play a role in BBC's upcoming Five Daughters, written by Stephen Butchard and starring Ian Hart and Sarah Lancashire.

+ A Jubilee for Anton Chekov. The Hampstead Theatre celebrates Chekov, and it is quite exciting too: "From 18 – 23 January 2010, Michael Pennington, one of Britain’s finest actors, and leading Chekhov specialist Rosamund Bartlett will host a series of shows dedicated to the work of this fascinating writer. The event has been organised to raise money to restore the White Dacha – the house in Yalta where Chekhov wrote Three Sisters and The Cherry Orchard, which has now lost its state funding and is in serious disrepair."

+ The Shakespeare's Globe 2010 season of "Kings & Rogues" sounds interesting, despite how dissapointing Howard Brenton's latest efforts are I'm quite pumped to expect great things of his Anne Boylen.

+ The National Theatre Wales launches its (very exciting) first season in this video.

+ Nick Ward is appointed first writer in residence of the Cock Tavern. We love Nick Ward. He wrote "The Present". We love him dearly. Good news.

+ Carl Barat will debut on the London stage at the Riverside Studios' revival of Sam Shepard's "Fool for Love", also starring Sadie Frost. This makes our lives so much more surrealistic than they were. Not that we are not big Libertines fans but...

+ The best piece of casting news lately (except for maybe Pip Carter doing "The White Guard" at the National, but let's leave my theatrical crush on Carter aside for now) involves the Bush Theatre's production "The Whiskey Taster" in January: David Haigh, Rafe Spall and Hattie Morahan. We, for one, will never ever get enough of Miss Morahan in theatre. And now that Andrea Riseborough is leaving us for the US, she is our great girl hope.

+ A bit two weeks ago but this might be my new favourite interview piece in the world. Lucy Cohu and Anna Maxwell Martin talking about what good friends they are. I should probably add a Lucy Cohu tag to my labels now. My love and admiration for her grows and grows with every performance I see of "Speaking in Tongues".

+ Really nice production photos of Cock at the Royal Court, including our favourite, Andrew Scott.

Life is a Dream, Donmar Warehouse, 27 Nov 2009

2009-11-29T04:15:00.000-08:00

Unlike other fellow Spaniards in the audience for last Friday's performance, I wasn't particularly protective of Calderón de la Barca's masterpiece. Sure, like all Spanish people, I had to study it at school, and even during my time with the college school theatre we had a shot or two at Segismundo's inmortal soliloquy. But I was not worried or bothered about what kind of faithfulness Helen Edmunson could show in her translation.

It is a very good translation, too. The actors, I can guess less aware then some in the audience as to who or what was De la Barca, chose to deliver Edmunson's rich and gorgeous dialogue as if they were doing Shakespeare. That proved to be the right choice as well. Like most Shakespeare, Life is a Dream is at times brilliant, absurd, shamelessly uninterested in plot and surprisingly strange. De la Barca's play is very charged, philosophically, and that's one of the reasons of its endurance. His characters are sometimes too thinly-written and the narrative arch is uneven, making for a second half that is much weaker than the first.

With all the inherent flaws of the play, this is a production that makes good use of its virtues and it is also very Donmar-ish, if such thing exists. Sometimes I think the Donmar is overhyped but then it always delivers - at least the Donmar Warehouse does (let us forget the horrendous Donmar West End production of Hamlet, which still brings on nightmares in my house). This one doesn't fly as high as Dimetos but Jonathan Munby's Life is a Dream is handsome, engaging and thoroughly entertaining.

As a fan of minimal set designs I was happy to be met by Angela Davies' dark and damp stage, its bareness in perfect synch with the play's metaphorical nature. The live music by Ansuman Biswas added perfect effect as well. When it comes to production values no one can argue that the Donmar always gets it right (unless we are talking about Hamlet *shivers*) and this is no exception. Once more, at times, I thought I was witnessing some RSC's version of Shakespeare, but with a lot more charm.

As for the acting, Dominic West stroke the perfect balance between princely pride and a kind of rude, savage energy. He was suprisingly funny too. The transformation in the character in the second half and his hurried decisions in the climax didn't ring quite true but that's a problem of the writing rather than Mr.West's. Other than that he was up to the challenge and turned out a really commanding presence on stage. I had always imagined Segismundo to be a lot more fragile but Dominic West brought a caged-animal quality to his acting that, although not my idea of the character, convinced me completely.

The rest of the cast was solid and brilliant. Glad to see Kate Fleetwood on stage again, after how much we liked her in Rupert Goold's Macbeth. She is so fierce, it's a joy to see her act. Great Lloyd Hutchinson as well, getting on another great Donmar production after impressing us with his Antonio in the West End's Twelfth Night. Perhaps the greatest surprise of the evening was Rupert Evans, who hadn't impressed us in film or tv ever and whom we missed at the Bush's Broken Space Season last year; he was particularly flawless, hilarious and grabbing the verse and making it his own to the very last syllable. That should teach us not to judge just from what we see on the telly...

Bottom line: high value entertaiment, worth every penny of its (decently priced) ticket. Helen Edmunson turned in a lively translation & she even did quite alright when approaching what's arguably the best-known and loved monologue in the history of Spanish theatre:

Oh wretched me! Unhappy me!
Dear Lord in Heaven, tell me please,
what harm does my existence mean
that I should be so cruelly used
as this? That I was born I do
confess, and being born is Man's
most henious crime, deserving
of severest judgement, yet and yet
I cannot grasp nor comprehend
what further crime I did commit
that I should be condemned
to such extremes of punishment.
For are not all men born, as I?

Reviews:
The Guardian.
The Independent.
The Stage.
The Telegraph.
musicOMH.

Pains of Youth, National Theatre, 11 Nov 2009

2009-11-15T03:28:00.000-08:00

It says everything about my take on Pains of Youth that the real highlight of the night was seeing Gillian Anderson on my route to the toilet during the interval. And I don't like Gillian Anderson. Not one bit.

It's a shame, too, this production, because I was fairly excited about my second Katie Mitchell after ...some trace of her blew my theatrical mind last year. And I was also excited to see George Streatfeild after so many years - he was the first West End actor that left a lasting impression on me, when I was visiting London with my college friends and caught a revival of Journey's End. And of course Martin Crimp is one of my favourite writers.

So, this production had everything going to for it (including Leo Bill in it, memorable for his rendering of the word "pimp" in arguably the best tv drama ever made, Julian Jarrold's "Crime and Punishment", but I digress). I went into the Cottesloe theatre with hope in my heart - this was a stage that had rarely failed to enchant me so I was confident and trsuting.

Boy was I wrong.

I haven't been so thoroughly bored by a play since... well, since Riflemind, and that's saying something. While I appreciated what Katie Mitchell was trying to do with the direction and set design, the fault was not in the production - or in the underused cast, full of brilliant actors (like Cara Horgan, who needs to go on to better things) none of which were able to make me connect with the characters. Only Streatfeild managed to resonate in any way with the amoral, charming and manipulative Freder, a character who probably deserved a better play, too.

The story concerns a bunch of medical students in Vienna in the 1920s and there's much neurosis and promiscuity. Some of its themes must have been quite shocking when it was first staged (like Desiree's lesbian desire for Marie, or suicide) but sound trite and merely sensationalist now, without any real heart behind the story. I don't know if Martin Crimp's version is mistakingly dull or if that's the best he could do with the original but there was none of the sharpness and poetry we can normally find in the author. The characters are self-indulging and ridiculous and not in a way that's entertaining or provokes debate. You just want them so shut up.

In short, a real waste of money and time, and one of the biggest disappointments of the season.

Reviews:
The Independent.
The Guardian.
The Telegraph.
musicOHM.
Sans Taste.

Royal Court Upstairs celebrations + Andrew Scott alert

2009-11-03T01:59:00.000-08:00

The Royal Court is celebrating 40 years of its more intimate space this week with a series of panels where writers, directors, designers and actors will talk about their experiences Upstairs.

Here's the program:

Tuesday 3 November, 7pm
The Ripple Effect
Five authors of ground-breaking Theatre Upstairs plays discuss their work.

Chair: Mark Ravenhill
Panel includes Bola Agbaje, Winsome Pinnock, Marius von Mayenburg, Snoo Wilson

Wednesday 4 November, 7pm
Is Small Beautiful?
The founder of the Theatre Upstairs, and it’s first Artistic Director discuss programming and directing in the space with more recent Artistic and Associate Directors.

Chair: Jeremy Herrin
Panel includes Max Stafford Clark, William Gaskill, Ramin Gray, Nicholas Wright

Thursday 5 November, 7pm
Infinite Worlds in a Black Box
Designers and other practitioners share how they have explored the potential and approached the limitations of the space over forty years.

Chair Paul Handley
Panel includes Hildegard Bechtler, Jeremy Herbert, Ian Rickson, Ultz
Friday 6 November, 7pm
Close Encounters

Actors discuss the unique experience of defining roles for the first time in the bold, challenging, sometimes notorious work that has originated in the Jerwood Theatre Upstairs.

Chair: Daniel Evans
Panel: Sian Brooke, Kenneth Cranham, Daniel Mays, Sophie Okonedo, Andrew Scott

Notice that Andrew Scott will take part in the last panel, which is very exciting of course. Wonder what he'll have to say about the stage.

My own relationship with the Theatre Upstairs has been more positive than with the space Downstairs (which is always a hit-or-miss). I love its smallness, I have always preferred smaller spaces. I first came up those stairs to see the double bill of plays from Sweden and Ukraine "The Good Family"/"The Khomenko Family Chronicles". It was a momentous occassion not just because it was my first contact with an space I love so (and an space I hope to have my plays on someday) but also because it was the first time I saw Harry Lloyd in theatre and since then he's become one of my favourites.

I wish I had gone more often there (& most of the time it was for readings and discussions) but nevertheless it's one of my favourite theatre spaces in London, if not my favourite.

celebrate Howard Barker

2009-10-22T12:14:00.000-07:00

Yesterday The Wrestling School, Howard Barker's theatre company, turned 21, something to celebrate. It makes Andrew Haydon ask himself if plays are to be enjoyed at the Guardian (I wish he would have written a longer piece about it, as it's a very interesting concept, why do we go to the theatre?).

There are few people in the theatre right now that I admire more than Howard Baker, few who posses such awe-inspiring integrity. I think integrity is not a word many theatremakers take into account when making career decisions. Only Trevor Griffiths, somehow, comes to my mind, when I think about the kind of stubborness with which Barker refuses to comply to either the material goals of commercial theatre and the trends in the art world. Like he says, he doesn't fit.

Howard Baker is a difficult writer and I must admit his Arguments for Theatre went over my head. But in a good way. I know that someday soon I will have to develop my own theoretical take on the medium, other than hurl volumes of Artaud, Brook and Barker at people. All dramatists should shape their own basic beliefs about the form of art they are choosing. Barker is one artist I can look up to and look for guidance in his texts. He is driven by a complete faith and wild trust in theatre, which is something that in our cynical world is almost always met with suspicion.

"Tragedy is the greatest art form of all. It gives us the courage to continue with our life by exposing us to the pain of life. It is unsentimental, it takes us seriously as human beings, it is not condescending. Paradoxically, by seeing pain we are made greater, it becomes a need."

It's not his ideas but his poetry that I keep coming back to Barker. I still remember reading most of Dead Hands standing up in the National Theatre bookshop, rooted to the ground by the power of his words.

I have only dipped my toes in Barker's body of work and though I have a long way to go so far all I've read has left a mark on me, both radio versions of Victory and Scenes from an Execution and the reading of Dead Hands, Gertrud - The Cry and He Stumbled. These are complex plays, full of unforgettable images and magnificent poetry. They leave me trembling. It's a very particular response that I associate with the sublime.

Now, I have to make a confession here: I have never seen a production of a Barker play just yet. Victory came at a hard time for me to see theatre and Found in the Ground well, let's say that the location of the Riverside Studios makes me lazy to get my ass there. But I think there's something more than that. I guess I don't want the feeling I've got when reading Barker plays in the privacy of my own bedroom, or listening to the radio adaptations, to be disturbed by the actual staging of his words. Barker plays live in some sort of abstract reality for me and I am still reluctant to face the materiality of them on stage. This is something I have to get over, of course, because plays are meant to be seen on stage. But maybe I'm not there just yet.

Impossible to overlook the fact that I feel specially close to Barker because he holds Shakespeare in such esteem.

"I am so far as I am aware not at all influenced by dramatists, expect for Shakespeare, who I have to say, it is impossible not to be influenced by if you hold language to be the major element of theatre. "

- Read Whatsonstage brief interview with Howard Baker (9 Oct 2009).

- The Telegraph on the 21x21 celebrations.

- Check out this excellent interview with Barker at the archives of Theatre Voice.

11th May
Howard Barker

At the ceasing of the running:
What terrified us so?
At the fall of the cities:
Why did we inhabit them?

I love the way the grasses one genus
Following the other smother the dead cars
The strict order of their progress

I love the way her neck falls into
Soft lines and the hardening of her hands
The strict order of her decline

I sung the world no longer there
Hardly a dried flower of Apollinaire
Hardly a chair
And we would fail to know it in the market

news: Royal Court Spring Season 2010

2009-10-21T12:31:00.000-07:00

The Royal Court has announced its Spring 2010 Season (details at Whatsonstage):

DOWNSTAIRS:

- Off the Endz, (16 February-13 March 2010) by Bola Agbaje (Gone Too Far).
- Posh, (15 April-22 May 2010) by Laura Wade (Breathing Corpses). Directed by Lyndsey Turner.
- Sucker Punch, (18 June-24 July 2010) by Roy Williams.

UPSTAIRS:

- Disconnect, (22 February-20 March 2010) by Anupama Chandrsekhar.
- The Empire, (8 April-1 May 2010) by DC Moore (Alaska). Directed by Mike Bradwell.
- Ingredient X, (26 May-19 June 2010) by Nick Grosso.
- Spur of the Moment, (20 July-14 August 2010) by Ania Reiss.

Not much to be cheerful about. Roy Williams is a great writers but he is always a hit-or-miss business. It will be interesting to see Nick Grosso come back to the Court - he is a writer in my opinion who has never lived up to the promise of his first pieces. I'm sort of looking forward to Spur of the Moment, which on one hand it seems like the Court trying to find a new Polly Stenham (please no) but it also seems like something right up my alley. We'll see.

News, Interviews, Food for Thought

2009-10-19T07:51:00.000-07:00

- Interview with Lesley Sharp at Whatsonstage. Apart from her current run in Jim Cartwright's Little Voice at the West End Sharp talks about her next project, a version of Ibsen's Ghosts directed by Ian Glen (I saw a rehearsed reading of this a while back at the Young Vic, with Sharp, Glen and my beloved Tom Brooke; and it blew my mind). Don't forget Little Voice opens officially tomorrow at the Vaudeville Theatre. It is really worth it, one of the most enjoyable plays of the season - you can get very cheap first row day seats if you swing by the theatre around 10 in the morning.

- Listen to a new adaptation of Berthold Bretch's and Kurt Weill's The Threepenny Opera for Drama on 3. A collaboration between BBC Drama and the BBC Philharmonic. A quite splendid production of this masterpiece, thanks to the very special talents of Joseph Millson as Macheath and Zubin Varla as Peachum.

- Speaking of this blog's favourite actor, Joseph Millson; news are officially out that he will play Raoul in Love Never Dies, the sequel (or reimagining, or whatever Lloyd Webber said it was) of The Phantom of the Opera. To no one's surprise, since Millson was strongly rumoured for the role as he had already recorded the part in the concept album (you can order it at the official website). News about the cast announcement via Playbill, and the always useful Joseph Millson.com.

- "Sacred" opens tomorrow at Chelsea Theatre. A season of contemporany performance that promises to be something quite different to our usual theatre evenings. Looking forward to it.

- Also opening this week If There Is I Haven't Found It Yet at the Bush Theatre. The always wonderful Josie Rourke directs and the always interesting Rafe Spall is in the cast.

- Simon Anstell will be doing his stand-up routine, Do Nothing at the Royal Court in November. I saw two warm ups and it's a really enjoyable act, charming and well-observed. You won't regret spending money on this, I promise.

- Matt Trueman's article in the Guardian yesterday, "Is the live theatre experience dying?" left us a bit worried. Not because the live theatre experience might be dying (although all this business of Tennant's Hamlet DVDs and live transmisions from the National Theatre is quite annoying) but because some people's implication that the mix-media might by killing it. As the article says indeed the theatrical experience, its liveness, needs to be re-examined, but not from a position of deriding the new shape narrative and performance art takes. One of the examples used, Katie Mitchell's use of video on her productions, feels specially significant for me, because ...some trace of her remains one of the most original, touching and yes theatrical experiences I've had as an audience. So maybe all this genre-bending and media infiltration is not the death of live theatre but rather its evolution in order to survive.

- Also interesting, Michael Billington's little note about the use of the word "Brechtian" and how it tend to send audiences running out of the auditorium. I agree people have a natural reluctance to the adjetive. As for me, I am not Bretch's most fervent fan, far from it, but I was brought up to believe you can do worse than "Brechtian" in your plays.

Speaking in Tongues Q&A at the Duke of York's

2009-10-15T05:18:00.000-07:00

My only complain about the otherwise perfect Speaking in Tongues revival is that the Duke of York's is the wrong place to have it on. So I feel sort of vindicated when I heard Toby Frow insinuating the same concern, and saying that his first options had been off-West End and that it had been the producer's decision to move the play to a different, wider (and in my opinion, wrong) audience. Now we can only dream how wonderful this production would have been in the Almeida.

The highlight of the Q&A Whatsonstage.com event with director and cast (minus John Simm) was of course Ian Hart's repetition of his well-known stand on "hating theatre". Nevermind, cause he does offer a good and coherent argument for it and I, personally, have nothing to protest about his belief. I think it's his right and I think it's admirable that he says so with honesty. But eyebrows were raised upon hearing this:

Ian Hart: That’s what I hate about theatre. What Kerry’s just outlined as a pleasure and a joy to me is an intrusion on what I do for a living. The audience, I can’t stand you. Collectively, not individually, I’m sure you’re all lovely people, but as a collective entity I find you abhorrent. I genuinely don’t understand from your side of that divide what it is that you want. That’s up to you to decide, what it is you come in with, whatever it is you want to get out of this experience. As far as I’m concerned, it ends at the edge of the stage and I work on the stage with my colleagues, tell the story, and obey the writer’s instructions and the director’s intentions. What you get out of it is entirely up to you. I don’t feel it’s my responsibility to respond to your laughter, your crisp packets. It’s not my responsibility to take on board.

You can read/hear the rest of the Q&A at the Whatsonstage.com website.

COMEDY: Ricky Gervais, New Theatre Oxford, 12 October 2009

2009-10-13T09:12:00.000-07:00

Having seen two warm-ups previous to the tour there was little to surprise me in this show. Although slightly less rich and coherent than Fame or Politics, seeing Ricky Gervais is always a treat. His presence onstage is charismatic and likeable.

He doesn't tone down the polemic elements in his stand-up but nor does he exploit them for polemic's sake. He is vital and inventive and though some parts of the show work better than others (his encore is a bit underwhelming after what came before) the fact that we are still laughing after seeing the same material twice before is testimony to his genius.

And in any case it's just exciting to see one of the best writers of any generation in the flesh.

Ricky, we are not worthy.

Little Voice, Vaudeville Theatre, 9 October 2009

2009-10-11T02:42:00.000-07:00

Photograph: PR

There's a line Jeanette Winterson says when referring to Virginia Woolf's Orlando and the enthusiastic reaction it got from readers: "They (people) did not understand it but it charmed them."

The same sentiment could be used to describe "Little Voice" and its singular misguiding nature.

It is a charming play and it's easily misconstructed by the audience as a feel-good, uplifting play. Its structure suggests a simpler play than it really is. Of course it helps that this is a West End revival and the girl playing LV comes from the world of X-factor.

But (like the equally misjudged "Speaking in Tongues" at the Duke of York's right now) this is not a West End play and though it has enough going for it to woo a West End audience I dare say few people sitting around me at one of the preview nights stopped and thought just how extraordinary a play this "Little Voice" is.

This is not your usual West End musical it is a piece of poetry. Jim Cartwright is a poet. His language is extraordinarily experimental but it comes wrapped up in what Marc Warren calls a "northern showbiz fairytale". There are songs and good feelings and a budding, cute romance amidst the tragedy and wasted chances of these characters' lives. The play paints quite a dark picture of these dead-end people, of brash, loud, selfish Mari (Lesley Sharp) and her shy, anti-social daughter (Diana Vickers), and the chancer, has-been disaster that is the charming Ray (Marc Warren).

It's a redeeming and familiar enough story: LV, shy and self-confined to her room and her late fatheer's records gets out in the world through her extraordinary gift, a voice that can mimick those of the great singers: Judy Garland, Edith Piaf, Shirley Bassey. Exploited by her dissatisfied and uncaring mother and a manipulative manager LV ultimately escapes the clutches of her opressive family life and finds love and freedom.

It is at times Disney-like fable and at times grim, tough Jimmy McGovern-ish Northern social drama.

It's curious to see how this revival sells one point but then the actual production doesn't turn its back on the other. It shouldn't blend well but it does. I suspect there's a lot of irony in Cartwright's assumed happy ending but there's a lot of heart, too. It's a complicated ending, too. It offers hope but few answers.

Although I think Lez Brotherston's girating set was a bit distracting at times I appreciated that Mari's house was every bit as ordinary and bleak as her life, and that they didn't prettied-up or clean the set for a more conventional audience than the one Jim Cartwright usually writes to (not for, I don't think he writes for anyone but himself). The production - despite the glittery posters and heavy pr campaign - doesn't shy from the darker themes of the story and, for example, the heartstopping last fight between Mari and LV is a perfect example, wonderfully pathetic and raw.

And the asset of this production is its cast, so that the GORGEOUS prose of Cartwright's get to shine as it deserves:

Mari: "You've always been a little voice and you've never liked much, to speak and such, but this thing you've developed could make us Ray reckons. Don't know where the hell it's come from, such a quiet lonely thing you've always been. I could almost fit you in my two hands as a babe. I don't know if it's the drink but I keep seeing you tonight as our little LV there, little pale chil' in me arms, or in the old pram there, that lemon coloured crocheted blanket around you, tiny good-as-gold face in the wool. I'm sorry for the way I am love at times, it seems to be the way I am. It seems to be something..."

Of course most people turned up at the theatre wondering if X-factor contestant Diana Vickers was up to the challenge. Well, yes and no. I have never seen X-factor so I had no previous reference, and I wasn't particularly concerned where she was coming from, as long as she was able to do a decent job. She is not a very good actress but she is not a very bad one, either. She fits the part of LV in a way that makes her believable. At least I believed her. She is sympathetic and the scenes with LV's love interest (played by the playwright's son, James Cartwright) carry the perfect balance of cuteness and embarrasment. But Vickers is not a great singer so when the times comes for LV to shine the moment is just a little underwhelming. But all in all she doesn't hurt the production irrevocably.

It was interesting to see two of my favourite actors acting together for the first time; although both Marc Warren and Lesley Sharp were pretty much in their comfort zones with this one. That doesn't diminish their merit, of course, but I always enjoy my favourites when they are doing something new (like Warren did with "The Pillowman"). Sharp is a veteran Cartwright-ist, having been in the first production of his seminal (& people use this adjective far too often but here I mean it) play, "Road" and her skills for both lyrical and down-to-earth moments makes her the perfect Mari, as if the role had been written for her. And Warren is used to play charmers so he is at home with Ray, but he also shows his capacity for pathos in the wonderful scene where Ray breaks down at the club.

It is always wonderful to see such gifted actors doing their thing.

"Little Voice" is a rare thing; it's a show that I utterly love but also I show I would recommend to everyone for very different reasons to those why I love it. Whether you are looking for a bit of West End escapism or for a searching, lyrical piece of art, you will leave the theatre satisfied. Cheered up even.

Read Marc Warren's diary of the production.

Reviews:
The Stage.
The Guardian.
The Telegraph.
musicOMH.

Press heads up: Jonathan Pryce Interview

2009-10-07T16:36:00.000-07:00

Excellent (if as always shorter than we'd like) interview with Jonathan Pryce at the Guardian. He talks about coming back to the Liverpool Everyman for a revival of Pinter's The Caretaker, and about his career origins on that very stage.

Pryce is returning to the Everyman for the first time since the early 1970s, in a production of Harold Pinter's The Caretaker, playing Davies, the loquacious tramp. He could have waited until the theatre's refurbishment was complete, but Pryce says he had a nostalgic urge to experience the old venue the way he remembered it, "before they got hot water in the showers".

Liverpool is a long way from London and there are very few people in the world for whom I'll make that trip. But I went to see Marc Warren in Leicester and so at some point of this month I will pack my bags and board one of those uncomfortable National Express coaches heading North to see not only Mr.Pryce but own personal favourite Tom Brooke alongside him.

I really loved Liverpool on my first visit (to see The Coral in concert) and I can't think of a better reason for an impulsive one-day trip than theatre.

ENRON, Royal Court, 2 Oct 2009

2009-10-06T05:27:00.000-07:00

Sometimes a good night out is quite a surprising thing. For I might be only person in the UK whom upon seeing the name "Rupert Goold" in the credits I am immediately less likely to go see that play. I think he is overrated, I can appreciate why he is a critical darling but I believe his ideas kill the text more often than they enhace it. He overdoes things, everything he touches becomes infussed with obviousness and self-importance. Six Characters in Search of an Author remains one of the most repulsive theatre experiences of my life.

Yes, I did have prejudices about Enron before seeing it. But I gave it the benefit of the doubt because I had quite liked Time and the Conways (even if Goold destroyed the ending with his heavy-handed direction) and above all else was the matter of Tom Goodman-Hill. As much as I love seeing Samuel West on stage and how he is always worth the money of the ticket, it was my admiration for Goodman-Hill and his acting skills what decided me to brave the queues and take my chances with a return ticket of this sold-out production.

Two hours of queue later I was in (with quite appalling seats but the Royal Court is small enough for them to be decent) and enjoying it.

It's a fun play to watch. Most of it comes from Lucy Prebble's confidence as a writer, which translates into this indescribable energy that pushes the play even through its less compelling moments (these are very few, indeed, but still there are some glitches). I call it "cocky writing" and it's always a good thing. It was a highly entertaining piece of writing, and clever and never didactic though I admit I learned a few things. The old woman by my side was confused by the economics of it but I think the play does a superb job of explaining the important details of the convoluted finantial affair while never talk down the audience. It's a fine balance and Prebble succeeds.

Sam West always makes for a compelling lead, one of the few actors in UK who can carry the weight of such a huge enterprise as this on his shoulders. He goes from nerdy, socially awkward genius to self-assured, cool guy and the tranformation is quite something to witness. West navigates through the character of Jeffrey Skilling flawless.

Tom Goodman-Hill is a revelation himself. I was quite unsure how much stage time he was going to get and if the price of my ticket would be worth it just to see him, but he was quite pivotal in the plot, had loads of scenes and he excelled in all of that. He was at turns sympathetic and pathetic, ruthless, a villain and a victim. His performance outshone the rest of the cast, for me, the real highlight of the night. The rest of the cast was competent but not exciting (although it's always good to see Ashley Rolfe). And the production in general was very good, with a couple of moments when Goold overdoes it but in a play like this his natural tendencies do less harm than to other works. It is a flashy play. In the best sense. It has great ideas (the raptors, for a start; the newscasters) but sometimes it feels a bit too much, with the lights and the video and the plastic chairs racing like bikes. But I guess it's part of the point the play is trying to make, the abundance and collapse of it all.

In short, the writing was so solid that not even Rupert Goold could do it much harm, and Sam West and Tom Goodman-Hill alone are each worth the price of the ticket. If you can get one, that is.

There's always the West End transfer.

Read other reviews:
The Guardian.
Another article in The Guardian about theatre and banking.
This is London.
Times Online.
Aleks Sierz writes about it.

The Bush Library opens

2009-10-05T04:57:00.000-07:00

The Bush Theatre Library opens today, welcoming back Simon Stephens' monologue "Sea Wall", easily my favourite piece of theatre of 2008, performed by the most excellent Andrew Scott, easily the most talented actor on the stage nowadays. If you missed it last year you have until Sat 17th of October to catch it. You won't regret it.

Read more.

the fear of rejection

2009-10-02T03:54:00.000-07:00

I've submitted a (very) short play to Hampstead Theatre's Start Night. I wrote it in about two hours so I'm not trusting my chances. Specially since they already rejected some of my stuff this year. But I think it's good to get things out there. And Start Night is a great idea, very encouraging.

have you met my new hero?

2009-09-25T04:39:00.000-07:00

OUR CLASS, National Theatre, 24 Sep 2009

2009-09-25T03:59:00.000-07:00

It's always very, very exciting to go see a play with Justin Salinger in it. I have mentioned many times in this blog, but he is one of the most exciting actors on stage in Britain, only rivalled in talent by the likes of Andrew Scott or Joe Millson. The experience seemed even more auspicious by the presence in the cast of Lee Ingleby, of whom I've been a fan for years (even putting up with the whole run of George Gently in all its glorious boredom).

But the subject matter of the play put me off a bit and like the Tyro Theatre Critic (formerly the Teenage Theatre Critic) I arrived at the National full of doubts and

In the summer of 1941 1600 Jews were burned to death in a barn in Jedwabne, a small town in Poland. The culprits of this massacre were not the invading Nazi forces but the very own residents of Jedwabne, neighbours and friends (and classmates) to the dead. This is the raw material Tadeusz Slobodzianek uses to construct his Our Class.

It's tricky to start with real events and real people. If those events are framed within the Holocaust the risk is even higher. And I don't mean the risk of offending, playwrights shouldn't be weighted down by that, by any kind of moral opinion on their material. For me the risk is going the other way. The kind of respect, awe, solemnity, carefulness this kind of even inspires can seriously handicap a story and the storyteller. It often results in a thin, washed down product.

Fortunately for most of its duration (it's not perfect, this is a flawed play) Our Class seems to just fly over the weight of those precautions. There is plenty of powerful writing (and powerful translation, thanks to Ryan Craig) in here. For a start it is a very theatrical experience. It's probably my favourite set design of the season so far (kudos to Bunny Christie and to the lighting job from Jon Clark) because it is sparse as it is evocative: played in the round, over dark wooden boards with a low step of aluminium at each side. The lack of detail design makes the experience even more vivid, and one laments that so many plays nowadays take a stubbornly realistic view on set and design, understimating theatre's capacity for the metaphorical. In Our Class the characters speak directly to the audience in many occassions and the scenes change from location to location without needing to stop for set changes, and one can have many locations and actions developing at the same time. The austerity of the production, in this case, is its strongest asset. It lets the writing show and the very excellent (and large, ten main characters) shine.

(on a shallower note I have to say that I had very lousy seats, up in the second circle of the Cottesloe, result of me being a cheap shot and snatching the 10 pound tickets at the last minute; I intend to see this production again at some point so I'll try to get better seats in the stalls and check how the set works from closer to the actors)

I was worried about the duration of the thing as well, but the three hours went swiftly by. The play is dynamic and engaging, even if the last scenes drag on a bit; the final fate of the characters (and their families) are ultimately less interesting than the build-up to the massacre and the inmediate consequences of it. My favourite part was still when the tensions between the Catholic and Jews in the class start to show in subtle, unexpected way. From childhood friendship the characters get together and separate and clash. Political and historical pressures break up this group that wasn't so solid to begin with, with tragic consequences.

The play shows a wonderful touch of detachment through it all. One of the main dangers with this kind of story is to fall into the trap of cheap sentimentality. But despite the horrible events if depicts Our Class remains refreshingly unsentimental most of the time. That was a relief.

There's always a degree of scepticsm when confronted with a large lead cast, because it's impossible that everbody can mesure up and there's nothing worse than an unbalanced cast. But in this case everybody is surprisingly adequate - all performances are equally sensitive and low key and skillful. Some of the acting I took longer to warm up to than the others. Paul Hickey, as Menachem, I had reservations about during the first third of the play but it grew on me big time and ended up being one of my favourites. Edward Hogg and Jason Watkins were expectedly brilliant. Amanda Hale (whom I had seen and liked in Crimp's The City and who was part of the soon to be released Bright Star, with Ben Whishaw) makes a wonderful turn as Rachelka, who marries a Catholic classmate to save her life and changes even her name to escape the atrocities.

Justin Salinger was the constant (and unknowing) commentary as the schoolboy who goes to America and writes (and recieves) letters, all optimism and naivete, a clever theatrical aside as a character ignorant of what his former friends are going through, their crimes and their sufferings. Of course Mister Salinger is as flawless and challenging as ever, though his part was not as lengthy as I might have wished.

One might have wished, as well, that Lee Ingleby, who was absolutely perfect as the cruel and unforgivable Zygmunt, would be given a part outside his comfort zone - we have seen him play one too many degenerate and mean bastards (The Street, Life on Mars, Borstal Boy). Hopefully next time we'll see him do a likable hero in a comedy, like he did, charmingly so, in BBC's Rapunzel.

Bottom line, Our Class is a very good and enjoyable piece of theatre played by a group of terribly talented actors. It tackles very big issues without being sentimental or patronizing, and it casts a suspicious light on our very notion of history, our certainties about it.

Thoroughly recommended to any kind of audience.

As a curious aside, I spotted Harry Lloyd in the audience, whom weeks ago I had seen triumph at the Arcola in Ghosts. There was some chatting about his performance in The Sea last year and he told me he was going to be in The Little Dog Laughed next year. That's excellent news as we love us some Harry Lloyd in theatre any time. He is one of our favourites.

Reviews:
The Guardian.
The Telegraph.
The Evening Standard.
The Independent.
musicOMH.

who's afraid of new writing?

2009-09-15T02:56:00.000-07:00

Interesting entry about new writing over at Karl Miller's blog.

Though I do share most of the concerns about the tropes and cliches pointed at there (some of them I'm afraid I have committed myself) and while I do agree to a certain extent with the affirmation "most new plays suck" I think that's even a stronger case to help out and nurture the new writers.

Because once in a while, among all those sucky plays, you get something like "You Can See The Hills" or "The Pride".

COMEDY: Simon Amstell, Soho Theatre, 6 Agust 2009

2009-08-07T11:56:00.000-07:00

Work in progress. Fascinating piece of confessional comedy. Not as linguistically inventive as Dylan Moran or well-observed as Ricky Gervais but candid and sympathetic (& sometimes just pathetic). One to keep our eyes on.

All's Well That Ends Well, National Theatre, June 2009

2009-07-06T03:32:00.000-07:00

If earlier this year I thought that RSC's Taming of The Shrew as seen in the Novello Theatre was at fault of trying to hard to offer a radical version of the play and in the process losing its soul and coming up with a repulsive, hard-to-watch reading of the story, I think Marianne Elliot's version of All's Well That Ends Well goes too much the other way and comes across as too bland.

It feels as if much of the effort went into the over-cute set design and little into the actual exploration of the text. It's not an easy play, sure enough. It's uneven and at parts weak and complex. But it can be done. Years ago I saw a perfectly decent version of it, directed by Greg Doran with Judi Dench and Guy Henry. I did appreciate the beauty of the decoration and animations and I liked the fairytale high concept of the NT production but this theme was not in any way reflected in the acting.

Michelle Terry, who was so brilliant in the Bush's 50 Ways to Leave Your Lover seemed unenergetic as Helena. We try to sympathize with her but her blandness makes it hard. She is a charismatic actress so Helena's weakness is all the more dissapointing, at least for me. She would be likeable enough if the rest of the cast could have been a little bit stronger as well. But George Rainsford was an insipid Bertram - it's hard enough to feel any pity for this character as it is in the text but add it a half-heartedly performance and the result is disastrous. But the worst dissapointment of all was Parolles, a role I love dearly and I remember Guy Henry being absolutely excellent in, but in this case I felt Conleth Hill was absolutely destroying the part. Mostly because he was not charming. Parolles is a sleazy, selfish ass but as with many of this type of characters in Shakespeare, he is terribly charming, appealing. None of his appeal was present in the National Theatre's version.

The National Theatre is always a hit and miss business, with more miss than hits, to be honest, at least in the Oliver and Lyttleton stages (the Cottesloe usually offers more interesting productions) but All's Well That Ends Well is possibly my least liked play of all those I've seen in this venue.

You can check what other people have thought about it:

The Guardian Review.
The Times Review.
The Independent Review.

Dimetos, Donmar, 28 March 2009

2009-03-28T04:08:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I don't understand critics.

Well, I normally understand them even if I don't agree with them, but I would have thought that somebody out there would feel the same I did seeing Athol Fugard's Dimetos at the Donmar Warehouse. I've been quite baffled by audiences' and critics' responses lately, after the lukewarm response to Three Days of Rain and I know Dimetos is a difficult play but I had guessed it would be a love-it/hate-it kind of deal. The Telegraph review has cheered me up, at least, but I'd had love to see more people sharing the wild love I have for this play.

I came out of the theatre totally transformed by the experience - by the writing and the acting. I had seen Jonathan Pryce in theatre before but it was in Dimetos when I was blown away by his talent. He is miles from almost everyone in this business. I can only remember being this impressed with a performance in theatre on only two other occasions: Elling and Statfford Castle's Hamlet.

This play is something I find difficult to talk about and will find difficult for some time. I had only heard of Athol Fugard and knew of his reputation, but had not seen or read any of his plays. But I came out of the play wanting to know more, to read more. Sadly, even if yes, Fugard is a brilliant writer and I enjoyed reading Boesman and Lena and Siswe Bansi is Dead I found there none of the poetry and pain that made Dimetos such a remarkable experience at the Donmar.

Dimetos seems to be something different altogether, even for the author. Its lack of succesful must have been painful. Specially because it feels profoundly personal, I don't know if in the themes but at least in style. On paper, it shouldn't work. You take the play by its elements, its language and theatrical techniques and you would expect a dense, heavy, pedantic play. And maybe it is dense, but the potry within it gives it such wings. It is suspended, like Lydia at the beginning of the play, in a moment of grace. It is full of darkness and yet you come out of it oddly exilarated. It is not pedantic it celebrates theatre and language. We do not care about the allegory it might hold, we care about what's on stage. Flesh and blood.

The cast is not only flawless but more than that, they are inspiring and challenging in every way. Jonathan Pryce takes the stage and makes it his own in a way I have seldom seen before. He manages to be powerful and subtle at the same time. The young Holliday Grainger was also a huge, pleasing surprise.

My very deep review of the whole thing would be: Wow.

The Independent review.
The Guardian review.
The Telegraph review.

READING: The Uncertainty Of The Situation, Royal Court, 11 March 2009

2009-03-12T03:15:00.000-07:00

The leaflet says:

Dumped by his girlfriend and abandoned by his friends, Jan finds himself on the streets, a witness to the extraordinary, terrible events unfolding in the city around him - events for which he starts to consider himself responsible.

Another rehearsed reading for the German season that would deserve a full production, if only for its wide appeal - I have no trouble imagining it a hit with young and non-theatrical audiences; it is a confident play, funny and fast and defying, if a bit hollow, and a bit too reminescent of Fight Club hipter cynism.

Directed by Lindsay Turner and with a cast that could hardly be paid if this were a proper production, this play by Philipp Loehle was a most entertaining occassion. Nothing life-changing in the writing, though, although it's always a special occassion to see Andrew Scott on stage, of whom one cannot say enough good things. It was his peculiar charm and energy (he is an amazing lead) that drove the play forward swiftly. Sam West and Katherine Parkinson were also delightful in the supporting cast.

READING: The Bankrupt Man, Soho Theatre, 06 March 2009

2009-03-08T17:49:00.000-07:00

I don't go nearly often enough to the Soho Theatre - for a place I love so dearly: it gave me Andrea Riseborough in a wonderful black comedy and it gave me White Boy and I will always remember how enjoyable and useful their writing workshop was.

So it's always a nice time when I go. More so if it's to see Andrew Scott, Gina McKee and Nicholas Tennant acting. Such cast would be difficult to gather in a proper production so it's a treat to see them in a rehearsed reading of David Lescot's play (translated by Christopher Cambell). The reading is part of a season of collaboration between the National Theatre Studio and the French Embassy.

The Bankrupt Man deals with the spiralling down life of a common man, portrayed with sympathy and warmth by Tennant, haunted by debt and a failed marriage. Gina McKee was wonderfully impervious as the ex-wife and Andrew Scott showed his seemingly limitless range with the sinister and hilarious character of a debt collector. While the play wasn't perfect (it was a bit prosaic and dragged on in parts) it was engaging and one could see how it would be a hit with audiences of almost any kind. The best of it, for me, was the slightly surreal turn it took at times (regarding Andrew Scott's character, specially), I left yearning for more.

In short another chance to check out UK's most promising stage actor, Andrew Scott, and enjoy an entertaining play very much of its time.

Wrecks, Bush Theatre, 9 Feb 2009

2009-02-10T12:12:00.000-08:00

You know? Robert Glenister is one of my favourite actors and yet he keeps on appearing in things that are not entirely satisfying to me. After the gruelling business of Never So Good comes my second chance of seeing him now in Neil LaBute's Wrecks. Now, LaBute is someone to be admired and some of his pieces are among my favourite theatre or film experiences but Wrecks feels half-cooked, to be honest. There are good moments and ideas but it relies on a plot twist that's entirely predictable and there are truly ridiculous moments. Pity, because I really wanted to like it but I came out feeling it needed a couple of rewrites. Mister Glenister did his best and lends a lot of sympathy and charm to the role. On the good side for a long monologue it was entertaining enough that I didn't feel it dragged too much even on a second performance.

One thing has to be said: set designs at the Bush are always something to look forward to, even in less-than-good plays.

Katie Mitchell interview at Theatre Voice

2009-01-26T07:50:00.000-08:00

The wonderful site Theatre Voice has uploaded an interview with director Katie Mitchell about the release of her book The Director's Craft: A Handbook for the Theatre.

I read bits of the book on the bookshop of the National Theatre and found it very interesting. After enjoying ...some trace of her intensely I have been converted to the Katie Mitchell cause. I know her directing is not everybody's cup of tea but I at least found the play refreshing and inquisitive, one of the best book adaptations I have seen onstage.

The interview itself is highly interesting, with Mitchell saying that she wrote the book for her "younger self" as she wished there had been such a book when she run into difficulties at the beginning of her career.

Our critical hero Aleks Sierz conducts the interview.

The Family Reunion, Donmar Warehouse, 8 Jan 2009

2009-01-08T08:03:00.000-08:00

Mesmerizing production of TS Eliot's "The Family Reunion" with two of my favourite actors (Morahan and West). Most critics find Eliot's dramatic work "flawed" or "imperfect". I say they are full of it.

It was an evening (not really, I went to a matinee) full of emotion, as opossed to the typical assumption that Eliot is somehow a cerebral, chilly writer. The sets were gorgeous and the chorus of children worked perfectly, halfway creepy and wistful. Sam West, of course, is a force of nature as always but Hattie Morahan held her own against him admirably and their peculiar chemistry is what brings on the sublime moments in this productions.

Gripping, lovely, challenging.

Reviews:
Telegraph.
Independent.
Times.
West End Whingers.

Voiceless (Reading), The Royal Court, 11 Nov 2008

2008-11-17T02:06:00.000-08:00

It's sell-out season for the Arab plays readings in the Royal Court Upstairs, which meant I could only get into one of the performances. A bit dissapointing, because I really liked the first one and would have loved to see more.

Voiceless works essentially because of its charismatic lead character read with charismatic detatchment by Justin Salinger, who had already impressed us in the reading of "Owners". Salinger is that rare breed of actor (like Steven Mackintosh or John Simm) that never gives the impression of being "acting" but rather convinces us that we are in the presence of a whole different human being each time, a complete person and not an actor playing a character. Salinger carried the weight of the story and he did it flawlessly, in a low-key, quiet manner. We have decided to add him to the "actors we love" category.

The young writer from Jordan, Amani Zawawi, surely knows how to put on an enjoyable play. There are minor problems with some of her material - at bits it felt too clichéd, at times too naive - and we are not sure how the Mystery Man figure would work, had we seen it in a proper production. But the friendship between the lead Felix and the curious little girl she has for neighbour and the almost fable-like tone of the whole thing is very nicely drawn and we are convinced this would be a cult hit were it produced here in UK. One leaves the experience strangely uplifted despite the sombre overtones of the ending.

After the Caryl Churchill readings, the LATER season at Trafalgar, IGNITION at the Actors Centre and these arab theatre readings we have fallen in love with the whole concept of going to see a reading. One wishes many were actual productions but on the bright side you get to see fantastic actors for only a few quid.

Play is dead! Long live the reading!

SIX CHARACTERS IN SEARCH OF AN AUTHOR, Gielgud Theatre, Oct 2008

2008-10-25T02:53:00.000-07:00

I wasn't specially impressed with Rupert Goold's production of Macbeth but it was a nice enough night out, but this re-imagining of Pirandello's superb piece puts the last nail on the coffin of my relationship with this director.

Both for me and the people I went to see it with this was the most excruciating theatre experience of our lives. I'm not saying Goold doesn't have good ideas, he does, but he overworks them and puts them in your face and everything in the production turns out to be so obvious and over-stretched. He should have cut at least one hour off the production. The ending was a good idea but he overdid it so much it felt banal instead. The whole direction went against the spirit of the play. Where Pirandello succeeds in being interesting and rising questions through humour and light touches and subtlety Goold and Ben Power come in heavy and patronizing and too much "serious business". We spent the whole time screaming "WE GOT IT ALREADY! MOVE ON!" inside our heads.

A shame, because a lot of money and talent (fantastic sound design, by the way) was put into the enterprise.

The only shining light of hope in this dark evening was Dyfan Dwyfor, whom we had already liked in that underdog, cute British indie film The Baker, and who continues to be a delight even amidst this horrendous "adaptation".

Reviews:
Independent.
Telegraph.
Guardian.
musicOMH.
West End Whingers.

RIFLEMIND, Trafalgar Studios, Sept 08

2008-09-28T04:23:00.000-07:00

Trafalgar Studios failed to make the hat-trick for us. After the great experiences of Elling and Dealer's Choice we went in to see Riflemind with hope in our hearts (more so since we really love John Hannah), only to have it crushed by reality.

The reality is, this is a bad play, there's no way around it. This story (?) about the strangled reunion of a rock band with their one-time lead musician (now living a normal life far from the glitter of rock glamour) is weak, unfocused and unexciting. None of the characters is particularly well-drawn or particularly interesting and it all looks like a washed-up version of a play (or movie) we've seen a thousand times before. It was predictable, and worse, it was utterly boring.

Poor John Hannah did what he could, with the script he had been given. It's a shame cause he would be amazing in a more worthy enterprise - his skills and charisma made the night almost bearable for the audience. He took the scantilly-written character of John, burned out Scottish singer and songwriter, and he tried to steered him far from the clichés he had been written into. Hannah was a courageous performer but he was ultimately foiled by the low quality of Andrew Upton's writing.

We can also save from the disaster Susan Prior, playing wife to John Hannah's has-been rocker. She wasn't spectacular but she was decent enough, which is more than I can say of the rest of the cast.

For more than 40 pounds the seat I (writer, unemployed) came out of the theatre feeling completely cheated.

Reviews:
Guardian.
Independent.
Telegraph.
The British Theatre Guide.

CARYL CHURCHILL READINGS: Ice Cream, The Royal Court, 16 Sep 2008

2008-09-23T12:34:00.000-07:00

Caryl Churchill and her gorgeous writing was far from my mind when I came to see the reading of her "Ice Cream".

The fact that my favourite actress on the world was going to be in it dominated my mood of the evening. I had already booked tickets for Ivanov so I knew I was going to see her at some point. Having already seen her both at the National Theatre (a magnificent season of Connections) and the Soho Theatre (in the fantastic A Couple of Poor, Polish-Speaking Romanians) one might think this nothing special but my admiration for Miss Riseborough have only grown since I first saw her in Chatroom/Citizenship. Since then she has been in my cult tv favourites Party Animals and Margaret Thatcher: The Long Walk To Finchley.

So nervous we entered the theatre but after an exciting real-life meeting with the lovely Miss Riseborough at the Royal Court Bar (a place of fateful meetings indeed) one could go into the auditorium a little more relaxed.

And of course it's always an special occassion, seeing Andre Riseborough do what she does, which is basically being the most talented actress of her generation and many other generations. "Ice cream" gave her plenty of chances to show off her skills as the story, after a more choral first half, centers on her character, Jaq. She manages to seem quirky and enigmatic yet strangely ordinary. Riseborough navigates through Jaq's rough edges with charm but refusing to sell the character to the audience. Jaq might be a bit lost, but she is not fighting your approval.

This is a strange coming-of-age story and yet it is one indeed, starting out as a culture clash between an American well-to-do couple and their British relatives, the young and down-and-out siblings Jaq and Phil. Another delight of the night was seeing Ben Whishaw take on the role of Phil. We finally understand what all the fuss about this actor was about. He was unexpectedly hilarious and had great acting chemistry with Riseborough, and had a sort of confidence to his manner that is just lovely to see on stage. I, for one, am sold and promise to see everything this man acts in (starting with the National Theatre's ...some trace of her).

Shawn Wallace as Lance, from the American part of the play, was impressive in this reading as well, with Miranda Richardson convincing as his unsatisfied wife.

Like with other Churchill readings I've been to this week I was left astounded at how fresh the writing feels, how well it sounds. I particularly enjoyed how the story tramples the expectations about itself and when we thought it is an American-British relationship statement it turns into a somehow cheap crime mystery and then it changes again into something quiet as we follow Jaq's steps into American. It becomes a road-play of sorts, introspective and surprising.

Caryl Churchill is so hardcore.

CARYL CHURCHILL READINGS: Three More Sleepless Nights, The Royal Court, 19 Sep 2008

2008-09-20T03:18:00.000-07:00

It's funny how a couple of months ago, when I had not open a Caryl Churchill script, I still wondered what all the fuss about her was about, and if she was really worth the hype. And now, the more I read and the more I see of her work, the more I come to understand why she's been so pivotal to British theatre in the last decades.

I wish I had seen the reading of Top Girls as well, one of her best known plays, but money is scarce and I had to choose between that one and this almost-short piece. In case of doubt I'll always pick the one with Lesley Sharp in it. Not only is she my favourite actress but I sincerely believe she is the best British actress nowadays so I knew I was in for a treat. Also, having been absolutely mesmerized by Tom Brooke in Light Shining in Buckinghamshire, I wanted to see more of him.

Three More Sleepless Nights follows three scenes between four characters that make up three different couples. The theme of communication, or in this case lack of it, is at the heart of the play. Which was written years before incommunication became the main subject of about 90% of modern theatre plays. But I am beginning to comprehend to what extent Caryl Churchill was and still is ahead of her time.

Churchill wrote Three More Sleepless Nights in 1980 but it is astounding how modern it sounds nowadays. The sound of it. What Churchill does with words very few authors can achieve. There's a very peculiar poetry to it. The first scene, between Sharp and Ron Cook, with overlapping dialogue which had to be timed to the fraction-of-a-second (and it was, despite this being a rehearsed reading), leaves the audience with the mouth open. But it's not just technical trick of it, it's the observation, the details, how well-drawn the characters are in just a few lines.

The reading was directed by debbie tucker green, which is another treat in itself, she is a great writer.

The cast was flawless. It's always an excercise in amazement, watching Lesley Sharp work. She is just one of those actors who are just a pleasure to watch, whatever she is doing, because she is so skillful and at the same time she makes it looks effortless. Ron Cook admirably stood his ground against her, he was pretty incredible too. And no, my first impression of Tom Brooke wasn't an illusion. This is one to look for. I loved the quietness and quirkiness he embedded into the character, and the very peculiar delivery he has, that voice. I am completely converted. He is the theatre discovery of the year so far.

As an aside note I should say I was very happy to take home with me Lesley Sharp's script of the play. She kindly gave it to this faithful fan. Aw. She also introduce me to Dominic Cooke and I shooke hands with the man I dream of working for someday. Amazing theatre experience.

CARYL CHURCHILL READINGS: Owners, The Royal Court, 16 Sep 2008

2008-09-17T09:50:00.000-07:00

The Caryl Chruchill readings at the Royal Court might just be our favourite theatre happening of the year. Such an admired author and our knowledge of her was so limited: we had, of course, read "Light Shining In Buckinghamshire" as part of our accelerated Course On The Figure Of Edward Sexby to prepare for this fall Channel 4's The Devil's Whore. We thought "Light Shining In Buckinghamshire" a masterpiece but decided to wait for the reading to get a broader taste of Churchill.

The readings kicked off with "Owners" and if the West End Whingers often value productions by the "Cranford-factor" we have decided to do the same but with a "Life On Mars-factor" -wait for the upcoming review of "Ivanov" on that subject- and thus were excited by the prospect of seeing Ian Puleston Davies on stage: not only did he contribute to the Life On Mars-factor (and from one of our favourite episodes!) but he also penned the very nice tv-movie Dirty Filthy Love with the adorable Shirley Henderson, and he was part of the cast of Conviction, a cult show for us*.

What in the end comes through in these readings -apart from the magnificence, courage and modernity of Churchill's writing- is what a great ensemble the Court has attracted to do them. Money couldn't pay these actors in a normal production.

Crisis in the UK! Rehearsed readings is the answer!

Fine by us. The decision of putting these readings on the Downstairs Stage is a compliment to the author but we think the mood would have been more fitting if these had been done Upstairs. Or maybe we just favour Upstairs every time (it's one of the unwritten rules of Going To The Court: the plays Downstairs are usually shite and the plays Upstairs are amazing, and so far in our experience we concur). It's not like it was packed all nights.

But anyway, "Owners". As the first one Churchill wrote it is also the one we rated the least: we enjoyed it the whole time and it has great moments of brilliance -specially in the character of Alec- but it is also a bit uneven at parts. We are not that fascinated by the house market as a whole, or the baby plot. In general we dislike plots with babies in them, or female characters with motherly instincts. Clegg's character and the whole butcher set up reminded us a lot of The Bush's "Tinkerbox" and we wondered if Churchill is of any influence on Lucy Kirkwood. Maybe we should stop obssessing over Lucy Kirkwood.

The cast was in top form, even if this was just a reading, but it really looked like they had rehearsed quite a bit, so kudos to April De Angelis for the directing. Justin Salinger, in particular, made an impression.

* The inclusion of the Conviction pic on top serves a double purpose as it turns out, what with William Ash going to visit us with the production of You Can See The Hills at the Young Vic, October 14-18. Yes, yes, to visit us particularly, shut up, as we are his biggest fans. This is clearly going to be the theatrical event of the fall, given our weakness for Mancunian accents.

Romeo And Juliet GALA PERFORMANCE, Middle Temple Hall, 12 Sep 2008

2008-09-14T02:43:00.000-07:00

They had FREE CHAMPAGNE AND SUSHI. If that doesn't contitute a top theatre experience I don't know what does. Sushi! We were beyond us with glee. We drank and ate and approached Max Bennett in pure fangirl fashion. We also caught glimpse of OUR HEROINE Tamara Harvey in the champagne reception. Ah, high life.

The readings were also a treat, with Corin Redgrave approaching the sonnets, and Fione Shaw indulging us with our favourite twentieth century poet.

But
O O O O that Shakespeherian Rag—
It's so elegant
So intelligent
'What shall I do now? What shall I do?'
'I shall rush out as I am, and walk the street
'With my hair down, so. What shall we do to-morrow?
'What shall we ever do?'
The hot water at ten.
And if it rains, a closed car at four.
And we shall play a game of chess,
Pressing lidless eyes and waiting for a knock upon the door.

We cannot understimate the power of such a voice as Fiona Shaw's has when reading "The Wasteland". It felt somehow appropriate that in this place where Shakespeare once set foot on we should hear words from Eliot, a kindred spirit. Once more the Middle Temple Hall worked its magic on us, and we should hope to see more productions in this stage.

Now that we knew where the production's strong point were we could pay them proper attention, namely: Will Kemp, the swordfighting, Max Bennett's silence, the costumes, the sad fate of Paris, the scenes with Juliet and her parents... And we pondered and pondered and ended up deciding that Nicolas Tennant is possibly THE genius of the production, with his understated and gorgeous friar. This sudden love of ours for Nicolas Tennant, whom we had never seen on stage before, has nothing to do with our discovery that he took part in the National Theatre Studio's workshop on Simon Bent's "The Trouble With Girls" under the direction of our favourite director Paul Miller back in 1997. Or maybe it has to do a bit with that. Theatre is not for the rational.

This time around we were a bit more convinced by Juliet Rylance's performance than the first time. Despite other reservations we might have about her Juliet (the age thing, the slight lack of warmth and teenage doubts in her character) one thing we do love about her: she speaks the Shakespearean verse with wit and precision, and it's just a joy to hear her go on through the poetry of the piece.

After the performance (and some more successful fangirling of Will Kemp and Max Bennett) the whole company and audience walked the Temple streets up to the Temple Church, the way lit by cute oil lamps. It was quite magical and once inside the church Mark Rylance read some Temple prays. Very neat. Worth our money, the whole evening.

In-i, National Theatre, 11 Sep 2008

2008-09-12T16:28:00.001-07:00

We have to start by saying we know nothing at all about dance. We know nothing about ballet and much less about modern dance. So this play might be pure crap and totally unimaginative and we wouldn't have a clue.

Ignorant as we are we pretty much loved this.

Or we just were extremely happy to get first row seat at 10 pounds.

Either way it was a great show: low key and intimate, despite the size of the stage. The bare bones of theatre there, two people and shadows and light and darkness. And their bodies as a way of communicatting. Akram Khan turned out to be an excellent actor on top of a great dancer. As for Juliette Binoche, we all know what her acting skills can do, but we didn't know she could be so expressive dancing as well.

A delightful night out.

The Factory's Hamlet, The Globe, 6 Sep 2008

2008-09-09T03:27:00.000-07:00

(Note: This was the first time I had seen a play in the Globe after the "As You Like It" production of more than a decade ago -yes, the one with David Tennant, funnily enough- when I was a wee teenage who couldn't speak two words of English but fell in love with Mister Shake-scene anyway. So coming back here to see "Hamlet" was bound to be an emotional experience)

Or not so emotional. Thank God for the Factory and its will to put the silliness back in Will. Posters and t-shirts were bought, cruel jokes about Josh Harnett were made, night buses from St. Paul's were chased at four in the morning, and there was a stuffed deer on stage. In short: a blast of a night out.

Such a mirth-inducing anniversary for The Factory!

Having the performance start at midnight set the tone for the night: there was a very healthy and childish air of mischief from the start. Sometimes we get too caught up in the medium's complications and we forget what theatre is about: a bunch of guys putting on a play and a bunch of people who go see them and have a good time. And a good time we did have. Even if it sounds blasphemous to behold "Hamlet" as a comedy, we welcomed all the silliness and cheap laughs of the long night.

The actors of the Factory always manage to remind us that yes, acting Shakespeare is hard but it's also a lot of fun. Their exercises do not only refresh the text but also the audience's preconceptions about how it should be played. The obstructions are there not because of a whim, they are there to remind both the actors and the audience that the text should always be a living thing, and in the case of "Hamlet" -the most complex, gorgeous, infuriating, rich, confusing text in western literature- the text welcomes all these variations, for its so flexible that it survives radical interpretation stronger than before.

Love the summary of the night's obstructions in the Factory's Wiki thread by one of the actors:

Well walking out in front of a baying crowd at the Globe was An Event in itself – Obstruction No 1 of the week was All That Love.

I Love
II One person on the stage level at a time (including that bloody extension)
III Voices on the balcony and bodies (those who won the toss) on the stage.
IV Doubling (or tripling or quadrupling) of characters a choix.
V John Boden played music of HIS choice – characters to move but not speak to the music, then freeze and speak when the music stopped.

The first obstruction pervaded the entire show. How lovely. Also dangerous – at times it was raining props. TC asked that the props in Act One come from the balconies not the more accessible yard… so they came – largely unsolicited and without warning.

Of the props thrown to the stage the most celebrated one was the stuffed deer that the actors playing Claudius and Polonius used to hide behind and spy on Hamlet. It made us think what a great prop it would make in a performance of "Love's Labour Lost" when the Prince declares he has been hiding behind "this bush". It prompted our only intellectual moment of the night, thinking how all the Shakespeare plays are somehow connected even via stuffed deers.

All the actors were, needless to say, exceptional. This was our second foray into The Factory adventures (having seen the Riverside Studios "Hamlet" in the spring) and we can see how capable and committed (and okay, brave) these actors are. We were specially enthused by the guy who played Claudius and the one who lost the toss with him but got to play the part in the Voices obstruction and the Doubling obstruction. This very last obstruction seemed like the most fun to us, with different versions of the character interacting with each other, almost Python-esque in spirit.

The party -oh, it was a party- ended very late and the experience of walking through the streets of London at night was in itself, very theatrical, specially crossing the Millenium Bridge in the darkness.

From the Factory "official rulebook":

17. Always offer the most beautiful versions of ourselves.

Some nights it's hard being skeptical with theatre.

Romeo And Juliet, Middle Temple Hall, 3 Sep 2008

2008-09-03T11:53:00.000-07:00

But, let them measure us by what they will,
We'll measure them a measure, and be gone.

We all have these experiences in which an actor illuminates a character we hadn't care much for before. The title of this post could very well be "How I Learned To Relax And Started Loving Benvolio".

Max Bennet's performance puts in focus this one of the most overlooked characters of the play. His Benvolio is youthful but wise, charming but discrete; when Romeo gets banished you really get a sense of tragedy around him, now with his best friend killed and his other best friend banished, Benvolio stands totally and utterly alone. It's all done in the subtle gestures, the way Mister Bennet just stands there after the banishment, defeated, his tight, clipped tones.

First of all, this was our first time at a Theatre of Memory show. If this "Romeo and Juliet" is anything to judge them by, we are pretty sure we will be repeating whenever. The emphasis was on the haunting location, the Middle Temple Hall - haunting because it's one of the few places where one can be sure Will Shakes himself set foot on. We will not pretend we weren't excited by that. The preoduction was heavy on the pretty costumes but the prettiness worked very well. The white and gold of the clothes matched the lyricism of the play perfectly. (We wish they would have managed to get some blood on, though).

Tamara Harvey has quite a reputation and now we come to understand why. It's easy to foresee we'll be trying to attend to all of her shows in the future. The work with the actors obviously shines through, and in a production like this it would be too easy to get caught up in the place and costumes and all kinds of shiny things.

So the production was flawless and inspired, and the cast was very nicely put together. Will Kemp is everything you might want in a Mercution and a bit more: charming to the point of sickness, light-headed and light-limbed. There's something desperated in his Mercutio: the character must have really low self esteem to push himself like that and be a show off and just try to charm everybody. Oh, well, poor bastard.

Santiago Cabrera was more competent than expected. He had a good Shakesperean diction, and was likeable enough for one of the less liakeable characters in Shakespeare. Romeo has always been a kind of whiny moron, but he has poetry enough to pull that off. Meanwhile Juliet Rylance rubbed us the wrong way, even if she was very competent. Her Juliet was not teenage-y at all, and she was fesisty but not vulnerable.

Of the rest of the cast special mention deserved by Nicolas Tennant -surperb- and the wonderful Michael Brown, whose career we are going to follow closely from now on, he makes a perfect Paris, all uptight and clueless and sweet and always the innocent bystander. Paris has always been our favourite character in the play and we can't for the life of us understand why Juliet would want to marry Romeo instead of him.

The swordfighting was very good. We have been seeing a lot of good swordfighting this year, what with the two Hamlets and this. We are nothinbg if not shallow and good swordfighting is the key of any Shakespeare production for us.

We pretty much agree with everything said in the review by Interval Drinks. In particular the part about the show being hardly revelatory but enjoyable.

For us it will always be the show that Max Bennett stole. We'll have to keep an eye on him.

*photo by Alex Guelff

Hedda, The Gate, 2 Sep 2008

2008-09-02T20:49:00.000-07:00

Yes, yes, we definitely like Lucy Kirkwood.

Turf, The Bush, 30 Aug 2008

2008-08-31T17:45:00.000-07:00

`I stood in Shepherds Bush station for an hour on Monday morning. 8 o’clock in the morning, ‘cos I wanted someone to touch me, brush past me, bump into me - I don’t care; just human touch…’

Fitting, actually, that the one of the London "mayor" theatres that seems more interested in the reality of London and its different experiences, a theatre with an ear to the ground most of the time, would give us this very worthy exploration of life and loneliness and paranoia in the city.

The thing starts a bit hesitantly, with your typical mosaic of short scenes to illustrate the "short cuts" topography of London life. Which, sincerely, is getting a bit old, but it also shows the ADD theatre suffers these days, with the plays getting shorter and its words getting smaller. But then "Turf" picks itself up admirably, largely thanks to an exceptional -and exceptionaly young and yes, handsome- cast: Benedict Adeyemi, Doug Crossley, Emily Penn, Esther Shelmerdine, Rachel De-lahay, Rose Romain, Ruth Wanjuco and Shafiq Mirza were all excellent, although I got my eye on Ruth Wanjuco most of the time because, really, she is a jewel.

The play talks about big issues without being a issue play, which I was gratefult for. It tackles the city's paranoia without having to resort to the usual stabbing themes - seriously, if I see one more play about London and teenagers with knifes I'm going to explode; not that I didn't love "White Boy" or anything but enough is enough. I think that where "Turf" is a triumph is in its radiography of urban solitude from the personal. Each character was complex, ambiguous and believable (except maybe the drug dealer, that seemed underwritten somehow) and you cared for each of them.

In short: and excellent portrayal of the mind-numbing, soul-crushing loneliness of London, spoke from the personal but resonating to each member of the audience.

Masterclass at the Royal Haymarket: David Eldridge & Lisa Dillon, 15 August 2008

2008-08-15T18:34:00.000-07:00

David Eldridge: "You have to care about actors, and you have to be passionate about actors. Otherwise what's the point?"

50 Ways To Leave Your Lover, The Bush, 28 Jul 2008

2008-07-28T19:53:00.000-07:00

Now, now, a bit of gossip: During this, our second time seeing this play, we spotted Hugh Dancy in the audience. And indeed with him was Claire Danes, but that's mostly irrelevant. Mister Dancy is one of our favourite actors and we were inmensely happy to know he goes to the theatre and such theatres as the Bush.

The play? Pretty much as hilarious as the first time, and now we knew the words to the infamous "You Are A Cow, An Actual Cow" song so we could sing along. A cult hit.

Hamlet, The Courtyard, Stratford Upon Avon, 24 Jul 2008

2008-07-25T18:23:00.000-07:00

I'm just happy I have tickets to see this thing four more times, because I can't make my mind up about it. I liked it, only I can't figure it out the extent to which I liked it. Maybe it was the shock of seeing my first Stratford play, or that it had to be this play, with this particular actor.

David Tennant wasn't the best Hamlet I have ever seen, but when he was at his best -and that was often enough to make the night remarkable- he was the one who came closest to the Hamlet I have in my mind whenever I read the play.

The first time a play is performed everything is still hanging by a thread so I will forgive the nerves and indecision of the first ten minutes. It was almost kind of sweet, David Tennant's reverence towards his role, the crushing pressure of just being Hamlet, that had him in the cold for a couple of scenes. Luckily, once he warmed up, he became the Hamlet we were all expecting from him: hilarious, energetic, teenage, raw. Tennant has the ability to be touching and creepy at the same time, so that the audience is put in a real moral dilemma, whether they should cheer for the hero or not. There's always a darkness barely veiled in all of Tennant's performance and that's just what was needed to give depth to this indeed very deep role.

I'm not so enthused about the production's desire to be sold as a thriller, downplaying the philosophical elements in Shakespeare's piece. Pity, because it's when the prince is at his most still and meditative that Tennant shines brighter and the odd intimacy of the stage plus mirrors works best.

Nor am I in agreement with Doran's choice of interval-break for the story. It makes sense with the whole let's-sell-this-as-a-thriller strategy but I think it belittles the whole production, such a cheap cry for suspense. Going for such a shameless cliffhanger effect felt wrong, and left the play unbalanced as the second half lost a lot of coherency.

A By The Way: During the intermission we discovered, to our dismay, to be in presence of Gordon Brown.

Now, it's a universally acknowledge truth (by me at least) that you shouldn't judge a Hamlet until his gravedigger scene. For many reasons the pivotal point in any performance of the role, if not of the play itself. So when I say that Tennant was better in the second half of the play that probably means I think he is a bloody good choice for Hamlet. He is. After his adventures with the pirates (that's my take on Hamlet and his ship journey) the Hamlet that comes back is much older, calmer, hollowed-out in many ways. Gone is the youthful energy, what remains is the cold philosopher. And that's when Tennant makes the role his, eventually. These scene also show how, despite his nowadays role as a media icon, David Tennant is one of the smartest actors working the stage. You can almost literally see the amount of thinking and intelectual musing that goes on in his mind during each acting choice. A good head on his shoulders, this one has.

All the cast is excellent. Patrick Stewart predictably so. He gives us a very sympathetic Claudius, a very no-bullshit head of state. A pleasant surprise was Mariah Gale as Ophelia: fierce by fragile, and with tons of chemistry with both Laertes and Hamlet. The "I'm So Glad You Are In This" award of the night goes to Peter De Jersey, because Horatio is my weak spot in all of Shakespeare's characters and De Jersey simply nails it.

PS: The stage door experience was humanity at its very worst and one had to pity this poor man Tennant and his hords of unconsiderate fans. Such a experience should be enough to put him off theatre for ever. But let's hope it's not the case. Theatre needs practitioners like him, brainy and enthiastic.

We came back the next day and contributed to the RSC's wealth by buying some of the handsome posters and indulging in some overpriced soft drinks from the Courtyard's cafe.

King.
Now, Hamlet, where’s Polonius?
Hamlet.
At supper.
King.
At supper! where?
Hamlet.
Not where he eats, but where he is eaten: a certain convocation of politic worms are e’en at him. Your worm is your only emperor for diet: we fat all creatures else to fat us, and we fat ourselves for maggots: your fat king and your lean beggar is but variable service,–two dishes, but to one table: that’s the end.

I'm sure I'll have more to say about the other four times I'm seeing this.

*pictures from david-tennant.com

Under The Blue Sky, Duke of York's, 23 July 2008

2008-07-25T05:40:00.000-07:00

Most annoying laugh was seated behind us. Ruined the night. People need to develop manners. Or you know, a less annoying laugh.

Catherine Tate was irritating when comic and limited when dramatic. Chris O'Dowd excelled at being an asshole - great change from his usual adorable self in "The IT Crowd".

Nigel Lindsay and Francesca Annis stole the show, thankfully.

Apparently teachers are a f****d-up lot. They are still sexy, though.

David Eldridge is a bloody hero.

50 Ways To Leave Your Lover, The Bush, 22 Jul 2008

2008-07-22T20:03:00.000-07:00

They weren't 50! Foul play!

Apart from that dissapointing math mistake, this was one of the most enjoyable evenings out of this summer. Coming and leaving Shepherd's Bush is nowhere as exciting -or death-defying- as our Stafford journey in search of the perfect Hamlet, but it's always a thrill to go to the Green and enjoy the variety of its sights. Not to mention that the Bush is our preferred space in London.

The hook in this case was Ralf Little. Someone who has rubbed shoulders with John Simm and Paddy Considine in that veritable masterpiece -as much as we detest the label, in this case it's necessary- that is 24 Hour Party People, clearly deserved our visit to the neighbourhood. Or maybe we just like Mancunians in our theatrical evenings.

Mister Little did not dissapoint. In fact, we vowed to follow him wherever his career takes him -which, fortunately, won't be more "Two Pints of Lager and a Packet of Crisps" because we have to draw a line somewhere. The play itself was delighfully entertaining and unbashedly commercial. We laughed until we cried. We cheered. We demanded a West End transfer - the world at large needs to know the wonders of its bestiality-themed musical number. One of many musical numbers. All of them very enjoyable.

The cast was splendid; long-limbed Ralf Little finally has grown into a likeable leading man. And a funny one, too. Claire Keelan was specially touching when one of the break-up stories turned sour via drug addiction.

Yes, yes, all terribly predictable and meainstream. But also, a very good night in the theatre.

Also, Lucy Kirkwood was part of the writing credits of the play, and we are seriously thinking about becoming part of her fanbase, if she has any, ever since we were suitably enthused by her "Tinderbox" a couple of months ago.

And dear me, I need to learn to write with few adverbs.

Behind the Image, Royal Court, 17 Jul 2008

2008-07-21T19:12:00.001-07:00

Went because of Gugu Mbatha-Raw (who is trapped in the appallingly bad "Bonekickers" in BBC1). Didn't know Shelley Conn was in it, too! They were both excellent, heartbreaking and oh, ever so beautiful.

The second half was better than the first (since we had actual interaction between character and not just reports spoken in our faces) but both were interesting and a nice piece of raw theatre.

Fat Pig, Trafalgar Studios, 16 Jul 2008

2008-07-16T21:18:00.000-07:00

Robert Webb was quite better than expected. Not that I didn't expected him to be good. He just was even better than I thought he would.

Nice, clean, effective production. I enjoyed listening to the White Stripes during the scene changes.

I still like the Spanish version (¡Gorda!) with Luis Merlo and Iñaki Miramón much, much better. But maybe because it had Luis Merlo and Iñaki Miramón in it.

Neil LaBute is always a good night out, in any case. And giving more money to the Trafalgar (it will always be my favourite theatre, for there I saw Elling) doesn't hurt quite as much.

Girlcrush Alert.

2008-07-14T21:25:00.000-07:00

Succesfully purchased tickets for the Donmar's version of Ivanov in the fall. Matinee and extremely expensive, but still.

Am I betraying David Hare's delicious version? (I am unimpressed by Tom Stoppard as a whole)

Who cares? I AM GOING TO SEE ANDREA RISEBOROUGH!

Hamlet, Stafford Castle, 11 Jul 2008

2008-07-12T20:34:00.000-07:00

Not really a surprise but Joseph Millson delievered the closest thing to a perfect Hamlet I have seen (I am mildly excited but not really holding my breath for the RSC version on the 24th). Hell, he even walks like Hamlet (yes, from reading the play so many times I have a very clear mental image of how Hamlet should walk).

The man didn't strike a wrong chord, not once. He was disturbingly funny when he had to (my main theory on Hamlet: it needs to be played my someone with great comedy skills, which is why Lawrence Olivier and Kenneth Branagh fail at it and Adrian Lester excels), he was angrier than he was melancholic, he was fit and energetic, disarmingly charming, annoying and annoyed. Yes, the perfect Hamlet.

It was friggin cold that night and I, being a novice to Stafford and the whole open-air theatre experience (and it had been hard enough to actually get to the place to worry about clothes), was terribly underdressed. That I didn't die of hypothermia was nothing short of a miracle. But pain of freezing is nothing when confronted with the perfect delivery Mister Millson offered with every line.

The rest of the cast was competent but average. Louise Jameson (I was shaking with excitement upon seeing her name on the programme, pathetic Doctor Who fan that I am) seemed to try too hard most of the time. Kellie Shirley was a bit weak on the madness part of Ophelia but quite engaging otherwise. Lex Danie started on a bad note with his uncharismatic Claudius but grew on me as the play went. All in all the cast could have been better but it could have been worse. One can only hope what Joseph Millson could have done with supporting actors up to his game - if indeed, there is anyone out there capable of being up to his game.

Now, the circumstances of my trip to the Midlands were almost as dramatic as the Danish Prince's story itself. Only slightly less bloody.

Getting there was the adventure everybody guessed it would be. A mayor failure in the rails delayed or cancelled all trains from Euston that very morning. Predictable. I got there about five in the afternoon, with no map or sense of place. But I succesfully located not only my hotel (The Vine, highly recommended) but a bureau of exchange to take care of my Spanish euros at a very convenient rate. Hotel was seventy quid (but Joseph Millson's talent is priceless) but it had many tv channels. Watched my first ever Avengers episode at two in the morning - damn, Emma Peel is one cool lady.

Castle -and therefore place of performance- was IN THE MIDDLE OF BLOODY NOWHERE, just as one might guess castles should be. Very steep and very pretty, though in the MIDDLE OF BLOODY NOWHERE. Buses didn't reach there. Had to get a taxi (yet more money spent on Mister Millson's awesomeness) to go there. I had no idea how to get back from there; hopefully the girls in the improvised Box Office were very helpful and dug out some taxi phone humbers for me to write down. The taxi back to civilization never seemed to arrive to pick me up - I thought I was going to be chopped to death by some countryside psycho killers from the Midlands.

This is all very irrelevant to the fine theatrical experience that was "Hamlet" but it seemed to add to it all.

So.

I spent 120+ pounds in going to see Joseph Millson in the MIDDLE OF BLOODY NOWHERE and boy, am I glad I did.

New Connections Platform (with Abi Morgan and Mark Ravenhill among others), National Theatre, 8 Jul 2008

2008-07-09T23:00:00.000-07:00

Abi Morgan: "I don't do as much research as people suppose me to."

Aw. I rather think of a masterpiece as Sex Traffic as a piece of invention than merely thurough investigative drama. Fiction will always win reality.

Fugee, National Theatre, 7 Jul 2008

2008-07-08T21:14:00.000-07:00

Abi Morgan has gone meta on us.

Rejoice.

2000 Feet Away, The Bush, 21 Jun 2008

2008-06-26T12:52:00.000-07:00

The morning started omniously as I watched the very lovely ushers at the Bush wrestle a young fainted lady.

Irregular and disjointed, and not in the good way, 2000 Feet Away suffers from underdeveloped characters the most. But with some powerful stuff in it. There's an exceptional scene between the Deputy and a pre-teen nymphet that managed to make me hold my breath.

Ian Hart was predictably excellent. But Joseph Fiennes was somewhat a surprise, at least for me. Never cared too much for him as a film actor but on stage he is an oddly compalling presence. Meticulous, committed and above all with a perfect sense of timing. If the play feels half-cooked at times but Fiennes is a triumph.

Mixed emotions but it's always great to be in the Bush and for ten quids the ticket I don't really complain at all.

Tinderbox, The Bush, 2 May 2008

2008-05-03T22:15:00.000-07:00

The most absurd reasons to go to the theatre often result in a good night out.

I wanted to see "Tinderbox" merely on the basis that Brian Dyck had been in Blackpool, a tv favourite of mine. He is a fine enough actor and quite pleasing to look out. I left the theatre in love with Sheridan Smith. The girl had done well enough in sitcoms and I admired her energy in portraying the new Doctor's companion in the Doctor Who audiobooks, but it's in theatre where I find she is at her best.

The play itself was promising. Irregular and oddly cast (the actors were younger than the characters by far) but fresh at times, and with some quality satire. Lucy Kirkwood also shows a healthy interest in language and relationships between rhythms and words and I, for one, am thankful for that.

Like it quite a bit, with reserves.

Never So Good, National Theatre, 19 Apr 2008

2008-04-21T22:37:00.000-07:00

I am normally a fan of Brenton but...

God did this one drag on.

I'm not saying it's not good -it is good. Just not my thing. Kind of seemed endless to me. Or maybe I just dislike the Lyttleton stage for being so annoyingly big.

Whatever, anything to see Robert Glenister, even in a very supporting role.

Mark Ravenhill Double Bill, Royal Court, 16, 17 & 19 Apr 2008

2008-04-20T21:44:00.000-07:00

Yes, I went to watch the "Fear and Misery/War and Peace" double bill three times.

And it wasn't just because of Joseph Millson. (Though I can't deny his flawless performance had a lot of weight in my decision).

I have no trouble admitting just how much I love Ravenhill's work and I think he is getting better and better at short plays (the New Connections assigments are really joyful to watch on stage). I like "Fear and Misery" slightly better (and then again, maybe it's just Joseph Millson) but both pieces are excellent and putting them together helps them achieve a fuller impact on the audience.

Burn Gorman was a pleasant surprise and he was quite impressive in his role. Will have to follow his next steps closely.

I can't honestly remember a night out at the theatre where I felt this satisfied in months. Well done, Royal Court, well done.

God of Carnage, Gielgud Theatre, 3 Apr 2008

2008-04-04T22:02:00.000-07:00

I somehow had forgotten how hilarious Ralph Fiennes could be.

Great fun of a play, one is thankful for the lack of interval and although I wish Tamsin Grieg's character had a bit more flash, all in all there's little to complain about in Reza's comedy. I am sure it dealt with many great themes but seriously, I couldn't be bothered with a deep analysis of it.

As the big fan of Takin Over the Asylum that I am I enjoyed seeing Ken Stott on stage a great deal, too.

This is probably the kind of play one could recommend to practically everyone, it's a crow-pleaser and for once I don't use that expression with as much disdain as I could.

The Lover/The Collection, Comedy Theatre, 27 Feb 2008

2008-04-01T22:53:00.000-07:00

Charlie Cox was very good in it. Like very VERY good. Colour me surprised. A star is born.

The rest of the thing was excellent as well. One has to love Pinter's playfulness, always. Great set design and with Gina McGee (I was so excited upon seeing her) and Timothy West in the cast very few things can go wrong.

Friggin expensive, though. Worth it, anyway.

Speed-the-plow, Old Vic, 1 Feb 2008

2008-02-02T22:48:00.000-08:00

Okay, that was pretty pointless.

I love Mamet when he is at his best but he does repeat himself a lot.

Kevin Spacey seemed too artificial to me but Jeff Goldblum was quite a treat - the best thing about the production by far.

The Vertical Hour, Royal Court, 25 Jan 2008

2008-01-25T08:25:00.000-08:00

It was Anton Lesser's Brutus at the RSC's production of Julius Caesar that toured to Madrid what made fall in love with theatre as a medium, and the first time I started toying with the idea of becoming a playwright someday myself.

So it's always exciting to see Lesser on stage, the genius that he is.

David Hare's script offers him a chance to shine but only at times; there's indeed a gorgeous, long scene between him and Indira Varma (flawed but heartfelt performance) in which Lesser takes the stage and grabs the audience and you understand why he is possibly the best at what he does. But what surrounds that scene of very good writing is weaker than this central moment. It's not a bad play but it looks unpolished and clichéd at times. I like Hare's work, but I'm not uncritical about it at all. The Verical Hour is shaky and ultimately unsatisfying for the audience as we feel that we have witnessed something that could have been great but isn't.

The production itself was well-observed and classy, a very Royal Court business, with an unintrusive set by Mike Britton that was quite wonderful.

Despite the reservations about the play Anton Lesser is always worth the money, any money. And Indira Varma is a solid presence we hope to see more of. Tom Riley was weak in his part but somehow he looks promising, you can tell he is going to get really good with time.

Reviews:
Guardian.
Telegraph.

2007-12-16T08:35:00.000-08:00

end - beginning

2007-12-08T09:04:00.000-08:00

Meeting Joe Penhall at the whatsonstage awards felt a bit like full circle. Like I should say something about beginnings.