National Theatre Live: Treasure Island

Photography from The National Theatre

In amongst the stellar selection of lockdown entertainment offerings from the National Theatre’s YouTube channel thus far was Bryony Lavery’s adaptation of Treasure Island in a 2014 production from director Polly Findlay.

Robert Louis Stevenson’s *other* hugely influential classic novel is a piratical high adventure, which sees the brave Jim Hawkins caught up in buccaneer hijinks as they face off against the dread pirate Long John Silver in search of buried treasure.

This is a truly spectacular production, full of charm, whimsy and rollicking spirit, which is hardly ever short of breath-taking sights on its two-hour travels. Lizzie Clachan’s outstanding set design alongside Bruno Poet’s lighting, and music and songs from Dan Jones and John Tams manages to conjure up maritime atmosphere in treasure-digging spades. Gorgeously detailed and vivid backdrops abound, with much ingenious mechanical wizardry on display which keeps the production moving along at a pacey and pleasingly fluid clip.

Photography from The National Theatre

Patsy Ferran leads a strong cast as Jim Hawkins, with a refreshingly modern, even prescient, take on this so-called “boys’-own” adventurer, stubbornly refusing to be whittled down to boy or girl, and full of vim and vigour. Alongside her is Doctor Who alumni Arthur Darvill, hugely enjoyable as the dastardly, two-faced Long John Silver, with both performers having a grand old time of it, and sharing good chemistry onstage, along with some surprisingly endearing shared moments. There are no slouches amongst the rest of the principal cast either, with Gillian Hanna convincing as the crotchety Grandma, Alexandra Maher taking a good-natured pop-culture ribbing as The Doctor (complete with swishy, dandy long coat) in her stride, and many highlights present and accounted for on the good ship Hispaniola’s manifest of misfits.

Confidently and skillfully directed by Findlay, this is a lively, hugely enjoyable production perfect for all the family which captures the spirit of high adventure near-perfectly, and looks ship-shape doing it.

"The Nobodies" by Chalk Line Theatre

This is a recollection of a performance on February 20th 2020. Also published in London Theatre Reviews, April 21st 2020: http://www.londontheatrereviews.co.uk/post.cfm?p=2780

Photography by Lidia Crisafulli

Following on from an impressive debut showing with Testament at the Hope Theatre, the Chalk Line Theatre company returns, this time to the VAULTS Festival, with a second offering from writer Amy Guyler in the form of The Nobodies.

Where previous outing Testament dived into the murky depths of male mental health and masculinities, Chalk Line remains keenly socio-political here, telling a new, but no less grimly relevant tale of existential horror through Guyler’s writing, which crackles throughout with all the pacey drama and darkly comic humour, as well as the witticism and insightfulness that has hallmarked Chalk Line’s offerings thus far.

The talented trio of Lucy Simpson, David Angland, and Joseph Reed each thoroughly convince in their parts as radical young socialists Rhea, Aaron, and Curtis respectively, as their group of would-be activists are driven to bribe and blackmail politicians to get their notion of social justice. Before any of them know it, some ill-advised improvisation in a fix starts a radical peoples’ movement which inevitably spirals out of all control, and all manner of ethical horrors ensue in a story which no doubt owes a considerable debt to the stylings of Fight Club and its ilk.

Photography by Lidia Crisafulli

Fortunately, Guyler and the cast manage to bring plenty of distinctly theatrical style, substance, and uniqueness to what might have felt too derivative in less capable hands, and there is much more besides to love about this original production, which pointedly asks searching, discomforting questions about the true moral righteousness of radicals.

Alongside Guyler’s fine writing, and the cast’s great performances, the intimate surroundings of the VAULT stage’s tiny space are put to some very creative and inventive uses by set designer Becca White, whose great sense of place in (quite literally) assembling a scene is ably assisted by atmospheric lighting from Alan Walden, and Mekel Edwards’ evocative sound design. All the while, Vikesh Godhwani and Sam Edmunds’ joint direction makes for a tightly-focused, pacey and very enjoyable evening of drama which certainly proves memorable for its audience. It seems destined for a life well-lived when it transfers to the Edinburgh Festival in the indeterminate future, when (in the words of Beckett) Happy Days will come again.

Photography by Lidia Crisafulli

National Theatre Live: One Man, Two Guv'nors

Photography by Johan Persson

Writer Richard Bean’s accomplished adaptation of 1746 Italian farce The Servant of Two Masters by Carlo Goldoni transports the original’s evergreen comic scenario - a poor, starving fool of a Harlequin blundering into waiting on two masters at deadly odds with one another, in search of an extra meal - to Brighton in 1963, where the modern Truffaldino takes the form of the hapless Francis Henshall, lately fired from his Skiffle band and caught between two sets of hardy East End gangsters intent on killing each other. Commedia dell’arte ensues as Francis recklessly bumbles his way through every desperate effort to stop each finding out about the other, whilst eating literally everything he can get his hands on.

Opening to unanimous critical acclaim during its original 2011 run with the National Theatre, and becoming a global phenomenon, director Nicholas Hytner’s outstanding work is these days rightfully regarded as a modern classic the British stage. Today, in the throes of our prolonged global quarantine, it proves unweathered by the long near-decade since, as fresh, inventive, energetic and full of laughter as ever, and now, a sorely-needed tonic for these lonely days.

The full cast. Photography by Johan Persson

This is a spectacular production, alive with enthusiasm and almost bursting with love for the craft in every aspect. Mark Thompson’s beautifully realised, clever set design transports us effortlessly everywhere around the city of Brighton, from stately homes to the mean streets, to the posh restaurants in-between; Grant Olding seemingly captures the lightning of 60s rockabilly in a bottle and tosses it back to us via the considerable talents of in-house band The Craze, taking us on a musical journey back through time and placing us perfectly in situ in 1963; the Craze themselves treat us to their infectiously energetic, feel-good rockabilly stylings throughout, performing a short albums’ worth of memorable and ridiculously catchy numbers at (literal) intervals throughout; and certainly not least, an impeccably chosen cast make every performance a highlight down to the smallest of bit-parts, with even the ensemble giving some shockingly convincing turns in danger of bamboozling uninitiated or unwary viewers (or indeed, sympathetic reviewers).

To mention any stand-outs would be to list the whole cast, whom all – from lead James Corden’s pitch-perfect Francis Henshall, to Suze Toase’s delightful, doggedly driven Dolly, and Oliver Chris’ side-splitting Stanley Stubbers – display a spectacular talent for making the rigorously rehearsed seem improvisational, and never fail to do justice to the beautifully literary, playful, sparklingly intelligent, and laugh-out-loud hilarious writing of Richard Bean.

Daniel Rigby as Alan Dangle with Oliver Chris as Stanley Stubbers. Photography by Johan Persson

Indeed, it seems easy to see why this was the first choice for our onrush of indoor theatre of a rather different sort. It represents the best possible opening night: a definitive, superlative run of a classic, so practically perfect in every way that it would perhaps be no loss to the art of theatre to put a stop to all future staging efforts on account of the work having already achieved its pinnacle. A five-star tour-de-force of farce.

Suze Toase as Dolly with James Corden as Francis Henshall. Photography by Johan Persson.

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).