Alan Bennett's "Talking Heads" by Brigid Larmour

Also published in London Theatre Reviews, March 12th 2020: http://www.londontheatrereviews.co.uk/post.cfm?p=2547

Staging a select trio of Alan Bennett’s famous series of BBC monologues – namely “A Lady of Letters”, “Bed Among The Lentils”, and “Soldiering On” - director Brigid Larmour revives the work together with her leading ladies, “Casualty” star Julia Watson and Jan Ravens of “Dead Ringers” fame.

This is a superbly-realised production in every respect. As Artistic Director of the Watford Palace, Larmour knows her beautiful, well-appointed surroundings intimately, and keenly demonstrates their best use by way of the sparse, portrait-like set design (courtesy of Designer Basia Bińkowska and Scenic Artist Aimee Bunyard), helping to draw all attention towards her wonderfully talented lead performers, and the beautifully detailed, evocative writing of Alan Bennett. Tom Desmond’s Sound Design and Bethany Gupwell’s Lighting Design also jointly assist in giving proceedings a light, delightfully whimsical flourish of detail that greatly enhances whilst never distracting, and appears effortless precisely because of great effort.

Much the same is true of both leads in this production, each one giving excellent, artful performances which are full of huge presence, shining personality, and infinite, sympathetic humanity. Jan Ravens is absolutely superb in her joint roles as Muriel and Miss Ruddock, each their own distinct breed of heart-rendingly tragic figure, and full of their own unique, fully-realised and full-rounded humanity. Julia Watson is outstanding as well, cutting a complex and sympathetic figure as the deeply troubled Susan; and each has been skilfully directed with purposeful confidence by Larmour, who never forgets the need for some physicality and movement to lend some visual action to a work heavy on its dialogue.

Meanwhile, Bennett’s writing is full of its hallmarked, often horrendously dark humour, perfectly timed and delivered, and yet still barely able to disguise a razor-keen edge of the macabre. Creeping dread and mounting tension seep through every precisely-chosen word of the trio of monologues, pushing inevitably onwards towards the emotional devastation, tragedy and horror at their respective cores, all the while dealing unabashedly with the urgent, topical issues of loneliness, isolation, mental illness, substance abuse, and plain abuse itself. It is some of Beckett’s finest, with the beauty of his prose never disguising, but only lifting the veil from perfectly realised human imperfection and ugliness – all of which is more-than-capably performed by the best women for the job, who bring everything to vividly-illustrated life, and allow this superb writing to ascend to its full heartbreaking and hilarious heights in their masterful performances.

Magnificent, beautiful work, showing all the evidence of art.

Safe Sex - Network Theatre, VAULTS Festival

Also published in London Theatre Reviews, March 12th 2020: http://www.londontheatrereviews.co.uk/post.cfm?p=2539

Actor and playwright Harvey Fierstein’s own creative efforts to come to terms with the AIDS crisis in 1980s New York is revived by director Jacob Trenerry at the Network Theatre for the VAULTS Festival.

The short, dialogue-driven piece sees two gay men, Ghee (Sam Neal) and Mead (George White) try desperately to negotiate and navigate their own fraught love life in the wake of the AIDS epidemic, and the ensuing widespread gay panic. Trenerry, along with Assistant Director Joanna Coulton, insists upon an intense, unapologetically queer experience, much to the work’s benefit. There is undeniable power and atmosphere here, ably assisted by the lighting and sound team of Paul Evans and Chris Olsen, together with the clever set design – resembling a see-saw, and reflecting, as it does, the precarious social balancing act required of gay people situated in that place and time in the movement’s history.

Photography by Paul Hajisavvi

With Kathryn Stevens’ voice coaching, both leads put on passable, if somewhat uneven, Brooklyn accents, and perform in their roles very well. Sam Neal in particular bears the brunt of the writing, and carries it off expertly, proving lively, funny, and emotive, as well as capable of rousing genuine shock and awe in dramatic moments. There is enjoyable and clever visual playfulness from the directors, too, with both men clearly coming from vastly different socio-economic backgrounds; the interplay of sex and vice – one dirtily smoking, the other classily drinking – visually intertwining and equating gay sex with vice unto itself, reinforcing that socio-political urgency in the text and evoking sympathy with an audience made to realise that these prejudices are being socially manufactured for political expediency in much the same way as any play is staged.

Fierstein’s writing itself is also a highlight of the production. Full of wit, honesty, and truthfulness, with a keen edge of political radicalism and deeply-felt human sympathy to it, one initially might be reminded of the nihilism and despair of a signature Beckett play, if only this play had not forgotten its warmth and levity, so that, despite everything, there remain reasons to smile, and to hope. Surely something to take no small amount of gay pride in.

Drip Drip Drip by Pipeline Theatre

Also published by London Theatre Reviews, March 7th 2020:
http://www.londontheatrereviews.co.uk/post.cfm?p=2509

The fifth production from Pipeline Theatre, and writer Jon Welch, Drip Drip Drip tells the tale of an NHS pushed to its absolute limits – this time not by Conservative budget cuts, but by testing the fundamental principle of care for absolutely everyone regardless, when a team of immigrant doctors and staff find themselves compelled to make a dying Nazi apologist comfortable.

It’s a play firmly in the urgently political, meta-theatrical tradition of Bertolt Brecht, merged with the visceral social realism of Jim Cartwright, and the resulting explosive combination produces sincere excellence so outstanding that it almost transcends theatre and becomes a witnessed experience of life itself.

Welch’s extraordinary, meticulous writing is full of real life, shining lyricism, inexhaustible dynamism, and an abiding empathy and love for all of humanity so acute that it feels autobiographical – something made even more remarkable by the fact that Welch is a middle-aged white man with a life nothing like the characters he so perfectly imagines in his work.

The first-rate writing is carried by the work’s other greatest strength, a superb professional cast, all of whom perform flawlessly, and bring everything to life so recognisably that all awareness of the artifice of theatre seemingly disappears, with the audience liable to be left feeling less as if they are watching a play, and more as though they are stealing a shameful, perverse look through a window, into real, suffering peoples’ wretched lives. It seems that Welch has not merely written characters, nor are the cast simply playing parts – but that they have brought genuine human beings to full and vivid life, as all great writing and performance should.

One could easily meet any of these wonderfully-realised people on the street, let alone see them in a theatre play. David Keller is superb as the rambling, scatter-brained academic facing death as a disgraced Nazi sympathiser; Alan Munden totally convinces as the hospital porter who could be any oddball full of nasty little prejudices towards every sort of othered person, whether he means to have them or not; Lydia Bakelmun perfectly embodies the horrendous strains of professional and personal life both as a Muslim doctor and as a woman of colour; and at the true heart of the work are Girum Bekele and Michael Workeye as two loving brothers, struggling refugees torn apart by cruel happenstance, who together send the work hurtling towards its utterly heartbreaking finale, in which one struggles not to weep bitter tears of righteous indignation and fury at the sheer damned inhumanity. There are not enough superlatives for it all.

Ably assisting all this brilliance is the set design of Jude and Alan Munden. Visually sparse in a suitably Brechtian way, allowing the focus to fall on the excellent performances and writing, it nevertheless proves versatile for being so compact, and capable of its own visually striking performances. Some clever use of projection also aids the sense of place and character nicely throughout.

In all, a simply superb production. Flawlessly performed, powerful, righteously angry, poetic, and emotionally devastating. A superlative tour-de-force that demands to be seen and heard. Do so.

John Cleese's "Bang-Bang!" at the Yvone Arnaud

Also published by London Theatre Reviews, March 5th 2020:
http://www.londontheatrereviews.co.uk/post.cfm?p=2501

Recently revived from its brief slumber after a 2017 run at the Mercury Theatre in Colchester, Fawlty Towers veteran John Cleese (yes, that one) brings his debut farce to Guilford’s Yvone Arnaud. Cleese’s first scriptwriting foray, bearing all the hallmarks of heavy boyhood influence from French satirist Georges Feydeau, adapts the playwright’s little-known French farce Monsieur Chasse – and does a suitably bang-up job.

Leading lady Leontine (Tessa Peake-Jones) becomes convinced her husband Duchatel (Tony Gardener) is having an affair, and determines to enact revenge by carrying on a torrid tryst herself with her secret lover, the family physician Moricet (Richard Earl). Naturally, hilarious chaos ensues between all the members this dysfunctional 19th-century French noble family as the Monty Python star’s exuberant first-rate writing crackles with characteristic Fawlty-esque wit, ingeniously filtering French farce through all the Cleese classics of British comedy whilst a hugely talented ensemble cast of performers bring it all to endlessly watchable, laugh-out-loud (larger-than) life.

Photography by Paul Blakemore

Under the close eyes of writer John Cleese (yes, that one), and skilled director Daniel Buckroyd, the relentlessly fast pace is pitch-perfect, and comic timing is drilled to near-flawlessness, with nary a dull moment to speak of. This is a suitably lavish and elegant production, too, with designer David Shields outfitting every superb performer in beautiful costumes to tread the boards of his extraordinarily comely and cleverly-designed set, with cast and crew ingeniously conniving to distract our attentions whilst the setting quietly shifts and changes.

So much the better for it that this cast has seemingly boundless energy and enthusiasm for their work, with all of their performances soaring to wonderful heights of comic flamboyance, down to each and every part – from Daniel Burke’s delightfully mischievous Gontran to Vicki Davids’ sly Babette, and all in-between, and beyond - especially the wonderfully entertaining turn from Wendi Peters as Madame Latour, whom proves a woman of many talents.

A spectacular production, limitlessly lively, joyful, and funny, and above all, tremendously entertaining. A French farce Fawlty Towers for everyone fond of theatre, that earns a resounding bravo to Monsieur Cleese (yes, that one).