Accolade Review

Accolade by Emlyn Williams

Finborough Theatre, London SW10

http://www.finboroughtheatre.co.uk/

Dark Knight

Normally TLT and her automotive sidekick would hold fire on publishing an opinion of a first  preview. No qualms though about breaking the usual code to praise this beautifully-judged production of Emlyn Williams’s 1950 drama directed by Blanche McIntyre whose Moliere we previously enjoyed. There is a lot made of the play as a disguised gay text but one certainly doesn’t need to know this to relish a well-crafted, finely acted, directed and ultimately very moving piece. Will Trenting (Aden Gillett), acclaimed yet skating-on-thin-ice novelist,  is on the brink of becoming even more a stalwart of the establishment after accepting a knighthood. However his double life,  the security of which he seems to have taken for granted, suddenly threatens to send him, his wife Rona (Saskia Wickham)  and son Ian (Patrick Osbourne) into the clutches of a blackmailer and scandalous freefall.  TLT  would first of all like to make special mention of the exceptional set design by James Cotterill and lighting of Neill Brinkworth, both of which perform a small miracle on The Finborough’s bijou space creating the spacious sitting room and library of the Trenting’s London home.  This is an intricately-woven play matched by cleverly stylised, visceral acting (as well as costumes) making every twist and turn hit target.  Alan Francis as Albert the butler with undercover talents. Patrick Brennan as Trenting’s publisher.  Emma Jerrold as loyal Marian. Simon Darwen and Olivia Darnley as the disreputable couple from Trenting’s alter ego life. And the wonderfully seedy Graham Seed (couldn't resist that adjective!) as Daker  who threatens all their existence.  All spot-on performances in one of those very English plays which yet can cross frontiers. A green light for a class act from all concerned.

UPDATE Sunday February 6 2011: Tickets are now (deservedly) sold out. TLT regulars may have noticed some strange shenanigans going on with 'first preview' changing to 'second' and now reverting to 'first'. TLT and the engine beneath her wings were in fact at the second preview but thought it was the first.  Having learnt we are more read than we - er - um - also thought and that a tweet link to our page mentioned it as a first preview review, we've now changed it back to the original with this update. Bet the Guardian critic never had this trouble ;)

Becky Shaw Review

Becky Shaw by Gina Gionfriddo
Almeida Theatre N1
http://www.almeida.co.uk/

Male Fraud

Beep, beep! At last, a new(ish) play in preview that zips along almost as fast as TLT's souped-up chariot! And there is something prescient about this 2008 American piece where the tables are turned on money manager Max (David Wilson Barnes) whose descent starts with a blind date with the eponymous heroine. Or is heroine the right word in an ensemble piece directed by Peter DuBois where Daisy Haggard's Becky Shaw (inspired by Vanity Fair's Becky Sharp) only appears half way through the first act? It's clever and sassy and the acting's good too. While there's a dysfunctional family - Mum Susan (Hayden Gwynne), daughter Suzanna (Anna Madeley) and writer-husband Andrew (Vincent Montuel), the play also metamorphosises into a gangster tale and deconstruction of a TV-shaped society. A play where all the characters, rather than attaining full three-dimensionality, continually try to push, nay force, their version of "real life" and its script on to others and in the end - but hell, TLT mustn't publish spoilers. Maybe the repartee and plot sometimes feel a trifle over-egged, but on the whole it satisfies as a darkly funny and contemporary play in a way that Clybourne Park didn't do for us. From hotel bedroom through Rhode Island boho apartment and then via Starbucks cafe to a widow's luxury pad, the set design, lighting and sound are equally smooth and satisfying. A slick zingy script had the audience laughing. The plot speeds along from the moment we find Suzanna lying in bed, watching a true crime TV programme dressed in black to mourn her father (maybe a clue: how many people actually dress in mourning black except in plays or on TV?) A blurred amber/green light for an enjoyable evening.

Hamlet Review

Hamlet by William Shakespeare
National Theatre, SE1
http://www.nationaltheatre.org.uk/

The Hamlet Identity

One day you wake up in Denmark and find yourself a Royal operative, a prince, no less. Your mission? To make sure the wicked ruler (who murdered his brother the King, your Dad) and his wife (who turns out to be your Mum!) are brought down, allowing a chap who is looked on favourably by the English government to take over. In the meantime, unfortunately, some collateral damage occurs with the death of a pair of innocent siblings, a tomboy teen and her elder brother. And of course noone is going to admit you are one of their operatives or prevent your death. John Grisham,  Robert Ludlum ...? Er no, Will Shakespeare actually. It’s a ripping yarn in director Nicholas Hytner’s version but less a revenge tale than a modern-dress thriller of Eastern European dictatorship imploding. A thriller about the kind of totalitarian regime where detention warrants are still probably hand-written on carbon copied forms to keep them away from leaky data storage and for easy, untraceable destruction after death. TLT and her sidekick sedan felt more poignancy attached to Dynasty-style-tippler Queen Gertrude (Clare Higgins) and Polonius (David Calder) caught out by their own ambition than Hamlet (Rory Kinnear). Critics have remarked on this Hamlet’s lucidity – yes, a deliberate Jason-Bourne-kind-of lucidity with seemingly no ties and a ruthless forward trajectory. It imposes a logic turning the King’s ghost into a spymaster with vague instructions from beyond the grave. And, strangely for a play renowned for its philosophical soliloquys, Hamlet becomes an action story where they all become part of the spy-like simulation.   So who needs the agonizing of a philosopher prince when you have a stonking thriller with a sleeper agent goaded into action? Well, TLT actually. It’s enjoyable yet it’s a amber light for The Guy Who Came In From The Cold.  

The Country Girl Review

The Country Girl by Clifford Odets
Apollo Theatre W1
http://www.nimaxtheatres.com/

Exit Stage Left

A tormented play by a politically-active writer given an uneven production, thought TLT and her partner-on-wheels, about this 1950 inside out piece on theatre, lies and cowardice directed by Rufus Norris.  Washed-up actor Frank Elgin (Martin Shaw) is offered the chance by young director Bernie Dodd (Mark Letheren) to star in a play albeit on a contract with two-weeks notice.  Frank’s career , so it is alleged, has been hampered by a young wife Georgie (Jenny Seagrove), the eponymous country girl, believed to be a neurotic.  While watching this, TLT began to think this difficult but worthwhile piece may be a unmade brilliant movie. Only to find out later through the good offices of Google that it was an Oscar-winning film when Grace Kelly who played Georgie won out over Judy Garland's performance in A Star Is Born (a movie about a washed-up alcoholic actor and his wife ...) for Best Actress plaudit.  Anyway,  what to say about it? The first act is supremely irritating because the accents of the two main characters Frank Elgin and his wife Georgie are so inpenetrable (I did wonder whether we were listening to Swedish-Americans!). Yet we know something rich, strange and very human is going on which kept me hanging in there. And surely there is, and if there isn’t, there should be, a theatregoing adage: “Always wait for the last act”. The audience was suitably rewarded with a fast-moving dream of a second act and every sassy line as clear as a bell. So round one goes to the clever set design by Scott Pask and Jonathan Lipman and supporting actors alongside Letheren, Nicolas Day, Peter Harding, Thomasin Rind and Luke Shaw. With a knock out punch by everyone in the second-act and just about an amber light from TLT who also recommends reading something about the life of Clifford Odets before seeing the play. 

Absent Friends Review

Absent Friends by Alan Ayckbourn

Union Theatre, SE1

Not Waving But Drowning

Never one to begrudge an acknowledgement, TLT has to admit a four star review in the Evening Standard sent her and ever-loyal automotive companion along to the railway arches to see this 1974  play set in a suburban living room.  Directed by Ben De Wynter with suitably evocative design by Holly Best and lighting by Steve Miller,  the piece revolves around four male pals (one never seen)  who have known each other since their youth. Two of the men, along with three wives (one of the wives is married to he who is not seen) and one baby in tow are about to welcome to tea the only single man left in their coterie, Colin (Giles Fagan) after a long absence. A tragic drowning has robbed him of his fiancée and, by rights, he should be thoroughly miserable with the others, house-proud Di (Gillian McCafferty),  mother-hen Marge (Fiona Gordon), philandering Paul (Chas. Early), hyperactive John (Shaun Stone) and monosyllabic sophisticate Evelyn (Olivia Busby) counting their blessings at their married bliss.  But being Ayckbourn, things are much darker and slyer on this merry-go-round of coupling,  uncoupling,  shattered flying ducks and childhood dreams.  All the actors turn in thoroughly creditable performances and, though the pacing is sometimes awry and  occasional self-consciousness creeps in, it’s a very satisfying retro bitter-sweet entertainment.  An amber light to warm up a cold November evening.

Review Onassis

Onassis by Martin Sherman
Novello Theatre WC2
http://www.onassistheplay.com/

Aristo-crat

As a young chit before driving tests and other real life thingybobbies intervened, TLT used to enjoy those kitsch 1960s' movies based on Greek mythology.  Where whimsical, bickering ringletted and be-toga-ed  Gods and Goddesses on Mount Olympus leaned over a bath tub with their favourite mortals’ miniature ships floating like so many rubber ducks.  Memories returned when the TLT and her own Greek chariot settled down to watch the soap opera that was the later life of Greek shipping magnate and serial womaniser Aristotle Onassis (Our Family’s Robert Lindsay).  This early preview performance was framed by a Homeric narrator cum confidante Costa (Gawn Grainger), with Jackie Kennedy (Lydia Leonard) and Maria Callas (Anna Francolini) also ticking the boxes for a celebrity history play with a few conspiracy theories thrown in for good measure. So it is, in TLT’s opinion, shlock but, TLT also has to admit, enjoyable well-acted shlock .  It may be apt to wonder whether the stunning design, lighting and multimedia from Katrina Lindsay, Ben Ormerod and Lorna Heavey respectively compensates for a bijou play expanded for a larger space,  drowning some narrative irony and humour.  Yet, give Robert Lindsay a pair of wrap around glasses and a penchant for the Zorba shuffle, he becomes a irascible and compelling Aristotle. And the time speeds by. Even if scenes sometimes feel shuffled like a pack of cards. And even if apart from  Ari and his opera diva lover Maria Callas, the characters are cartoonishly as flat as pancakes. So it’s as much an audience emotional rollercoaster ride as a Greek frieze but, directed by Nancy Meckler, none the less entertaining for that and certainly shed new light on a (in)famous name for TLT and her side-car.  A heroic amber light.

EVENING STANDARD UPDATE October 22 2010
http://tinyurl.com/Onassisnewsstory

Apparently representatives of the Onassis Foundation have now weighed in slightly misleadingly because it's never claimed Onassis arranged any assassination, only that he claimed he did.  What a great movie this would make - present day shenanigans with the Foundation, the book writer, the play and playwright framing flashbacks to possible conspiracy scenarios in the past ... ;) 

Design For Living Review

Design For Living by Noel Coward

The Old Vic SE1

http://www.oldvictheatre.com/

Survival of the Wittiest

What an unexpectedly dark (but very funny) writer Noel Coward turns out to be. And quite a deconstructionist as well.  TLT was amazed to hear her own thoughts about Design For Living’s first act echoed in some second act lines as one character describes how to construct a play! Written in 1932, this has the “can’t live with her, can’t live without her” theme TLT noted in Private Lives written two years earlier. Except this time instead of a couple, there is a risqué trio and the play ends in complete freefall. Otto (Andrew Scott), Leo (Tom Burke), and Gilda (Lisa Dillon, last seen in Private Lives), an artist, a playwright and an interior designer respectively are the eventual ménage a trois. TLT doesn’t think it is imagination (especially when another deconstructionist line backs up this interpretation) that Noel Coward is actually an intensely political writer with razor-sharp hilarious shifting alliances and incremental slapstick becoming prescient murmurs of foreboding about the world’s rocky situation. Design For Living is not as  tidy as Private Lives. The audience's gasps during the visceral third act confirmed for TLT it is more like a ship zig-zagging on increasingly unstable nasty seas before an impending iceberg beyond the final curtain. All kudos to director Anthony Page, the lead actors, gangly Angus Wright, as Gilda’s cut-adrift-without-a-lifebelt spouse Ernest Friedman, and the rest of the cast for getting under the skin of this capricious play in a preview performance around three hours long.  Alongside great sets from Lez Brotherston, a very modern surprising shift of sympathies and sheer spite elevate a comedy of manners and farce into something much, much more. TLT gives another green light to The Master.

Clybourne Park and All My Sons Review

Clybourne Park
by Bruce Norris
The Royal Court SW1
http://www.royalcourttheatre.com/

All My Sons

by Arthur Miller

Apollo Theatre W1

http://www.nimaxtheatres.com/nimax/apollo-theatre

 

Love Thy Neighbour

 

Two plays here - one a  masterpiece from a time when young men were reaping the benefits of the GI Bill  in the US and there was some aspiration to a Brave New World. The other (a preview performance), set in the 1950s and 2009, has, well, interesting moments  and might make a good movie, given some thinning down.  Guess which is which ;)

 

Firstly Clybourne Park in preview.

 

The first act takes place in a house in a 1950s’ white Chicago neighbourhood soon to be sold to its first black couple. The second act is in the derelict house nearer the present day.

 

Two of the male roles in Clybourne Park almost have a powerful resonance but the rest lacks the coherence and intriguing detective story feel of The Pain and The Itch, Bruce Norris’s last play for The Royal Court which did have two men firmly at the centre of the action.

 

Maybe Clybourne Park, directed by Dominic Cooke, was meant to be a first act of 1950s sitcom writ dark with the second buying into the harsher world of stand-up with supposedly beyond-the-pale material on race but, if so, this didn’t work for TLT.  There just wasn’t enough of a story.

 

There were glimpses of a more mature play with Russ (Steffan Rhodri), a father enduring after his soldier son’s apparent suicide, and Albert (Lucien Msmati), the husband of the family’s black maid servant (Lorna Brown). But the women’s dialogue is weak and the second-act self-conscious bickering of all the characters felt interchangeable, despite the racial references.

 

The American (or Canadian?)  lady next to me told me she was bored and TLT found it difficult to care about any of the characters or their opinions. The attempt to telescope the past  back into the present with mother /Bev (Sophie Thompson) and son Kenneth (Michael Goldsmith) in a final scene seemed a clumsy, last-ditch attempt to manipulate the play into the pathos and irony it lacked.

 

Ghosts of the past also haunt All My Sons, written in 1947, a  family drama but fault lines of money, family, community,  politics, state responsibility and war are also implicit.

 

An airplane manufacturer is blamed and jailed for shipping out, during the Second World War, “defectives” (that is defective mechanical parts not people but ambiguity of dialogue gives the play a deeper resonance). Consequence: the death of pilots in an industry as self-regulating as any pre-war Wall Street Crash financial sector.

 

Meanwhile the man’s business partner and neighbour Joe Keller  (David Suchet) escapes scot free. His family, albeit minus a dead war hero son, lives on in the same house ostensibly respected even after the very dubious court case. A pillar of the community, he joshes, with bankrupt morality, with a local kid (Ted Allpress) about setting up the latter up as an informal  policeman to oversee the local community (1947 was also the year Joe McCarthy was elected to the Senate).

 

And behind everything lies two properties, the surviving business partner’s family home and the unseen house next door where the local doctor (Steven Elder), whilst bemoaning not getting work in lucrative medical research,  and his nurse wife (Claire Hackett) have moved in smoothly filling the void left by the shamed family of the jailed manufacturer.

 

Unlike the talky and losing-the-thread Clybourne Park (which apparently was a hit when it opened in the US), All My Sons, directed here by Howard Davies,  retains its clarity as a family drama but, by the unravelling of the second half, there are hints of the disintegration and suicidal infighting within  the "family" of America’s post-war left as much as a critique of  the American Dream.

 

This is a compelling, many-layered play with wonderful central performances including Zoë Wannamker as wife Kate Keller where the arguments are part of the action, growing out of character, gripping throughout with, importantly, the power to surprise with the logic of its twists and turns.

 

Call me old-fashioned but TLT can only give a scraping-through to amber light to Clybourne Park for an intriguing idea while it's a bright green light to All My Sons.

 

Postscript

 

Apparently Clybourne Park is a response to Raisin in the Sun (1959) by Lorraine Hansberry, the first play by a black woman and with a black director to be produced on Broadway. Incidentally, Ms Hansberry met her husband Robert Nemiroff on a picket line and they spent the night before their wedding protesting against the execution of the Rosenbergs.

 

TLT has never seen and didn't know the plot of Raisin in the Sun before attending Clybourne Park but it was based on the true story of Ms Hansberry's parents fighting a colour bar in a court case involving a house and housing association in Chicago in 1937.

 

The house in question is now apparently (according to Wikipedia) being considered for status as a listed building. Clybourne Park should stand alone as a play, but it strikes TLT knowing the plot of the earlier play may be an essential when seeing this new piece.

Welcome to Thebes Review

Welcome to Thebes by Moira Buffini
National Theatre, SE1
http://www.nationaltheatre.org.uk/

Grecian 2010

Imagine a state split by factions and conflicts supposedly now at peace and a democracy. Unable to pay the salaries and pensions of its military. A woman hoisted up into the presidency with other women in positions of authority. The male head of a neighbouring, seemingly more powerful state, coming to scatter his largesse and increase a sphere of influence. All very promising on paper. It’s a shame what emerges is a mess of a play despite valiant attempts by great actors http://tinyurl.com/wttcast to give their roles some substance. TLT was disappointed since she thoroughly enjoyed Moira Buffini’s Dying For It at the Almeida. A shorter play and fewer characters could have held a small space compellingly. The young boy soldier, the loan fraud conniving widow of a murdered politician and the flashy “prince”. The young woman sent in to prepare the way for the “first citizen” (leader) of the neighbouring country. But this makes the play sound much more interesting than it was. Stretching it across this large space , with superficial references to a jumble of Greek myths, meant a lot of embryo ideas were scattergunned and shouted across the stage. Plus on-the-nose dialogue - either self-consciously “poetic” or vernacular “gagged up" and a self-conscious exhange of gender roles. Ah well, a stage-managed political rally scene had the characters as audience dutifully clapping the politicians but TLT should be honest and say many of the real punters liked it. Lots of clapping and cheering at the end so TLT gives it just about an amber light for the efforts of the actors, director and designer.

The Tempest Review

The Tempest
Old Vic, SE1
http://www.oldvictheatre.com

Virtual Storm

Yes, we're back, as Arnie might have said if he were Trafficlighttheatregoer or a super souped-up scarlet supermini ... On a sultry summer evening TLT and her trusty jalopy made their way once more to the Old Vic to watch the transatlantic Bridge version of The Tempest. And a production at one remove it turned out to be. The raison d'etre fell into place when one character emphasised the name of a virtual reality world which really does crop up in one of the final speeches. Of course Shakespeare was writing blank verse rather than internet product placement but if you want to google Act V, Scene I, TLT will give you a clue - it ain't Facebook. TLT just wishes director Sam Mendes and actor Stephen Dillane had gone the whole hog with Prospero and given him a laptop rather than a book of spells tallying with a characterisation reminding TLT of a worn out chief executive failing to live up to business page hype. And also made it all much pacier. It felt as if the ebb and flow of a magical play had been substituted by a self-conscious imitation lacking the lustre of the original and therefore it's an amber light.