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I'm not a diehard fan of the Kinks. I know of their work but was bitterly disappointed that this won the bulk of the Oliviers over the fantastic Here Lies Love. Having now seen Sunny Afternoon, my view is unchanged. Joe Penhall's book lacks substance a generic story arch which creates an obvious plot and creates a musical that drags rather than soars (when the reference to 1966 emerged, I had my head in my hands). Miriam Buether's design contains a needless catwalk in an otherwise decent set, there are no standout performances in terms of straight acting, and Edward Hall's direction creates what-would-be a middle of the road ITV drama of the Kinks. However, the musical adaptations from Ray Davies and Elliot Ware turn this musical from the ditch and transforms it into something that is almost amazing. The depth and quality of the Kink's music means that it sounds at home on the stage and, from the a cappela transition songs to the full-on deafening concert renditions, you love every note that emerges from the cast's mouths. There's a real understanding for what makes good music here and the intensity and the richness of it is perhaps the greatest on the West End. If this was just an hour set instead of a 2 hour 45 minute musical, perhaps it could have been the experience of a lifetime yet as it stands it becomes yet another flawed jukebox musical that only has the music to rely on.
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This was the first NT Live screening I have attended and, whilst not a replacement for the live experience, it is a reasonable alternative for sold out shows or ones far away. It can occasionally feel annoying with some weird camera angles and amateur camera changes which disrupt a play's power and a feeling of intimacy, which you especially get in the Donmar, is lost on the silver screen. However, the Barbican cinema is utterly gorgeous and keeps a certain intimacy far more than my local multiplex which is only really suitable for the latest rubbish from Adam Sandler or Michael Bay. It helps that the production shown is such an energetic and powerfully bloody production of what many describe as Shakespeare's hardest play to understand. Josie Rourke's Coriolanus combines scenes of gruelling cruelty of Titus Andronicus levels (see picture above) and scenes of pure emotion to create a moving experience. Tom Hiddleston is a headstrong Caius Martius who doesn't become aware of his faults until it is too late to rectify them. However, it isn't a 'lead' performance in the same vain of Benedict Cumberbatch and Nicole Kidman. He is very much one of a collective of actors. Hadley Fraser is a revelation to me as Aufidius as he never seemed to me like a straight actor but, like Julian Ovendan, he makes the transition well and is a menacing figure who commands the stage well. Mark Gatiss is wonderful as Caius Martius' friend Menenius, possessing the charm and wit that Gatiss brings to every role he takes on. Deborah Findlay is a headstrong mother and plays Volumnia with strength and gusto, which makes the later scenes even more distressing, in particular the final shot that is theatrical genius from Josie Rourke. She and designer Lucy Osborne manage to bring Rome to fit inside the Donmar which is impressive and the clever use of Andrzej Goulding's video designs create a production that I am glad I have caught up with. For all its faults, NT Live does provide a useful service and I will be coming back to it for the occasional production in the future.
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Jessica Swale is a brilliant young talent whose impact on the Globe has been a fresh of fresh air. Blue Stockings was fun and beautiful yet challenging, though-provoking and shocking. Now she has written another play for the space about the infamous Nell Gwynn with a send up of theatre in a charming and lavish production. This is such a self-deprecating play that is like a heightened version of Shakespeare in Love with Restoration theatre. You have Dryden, Charles II, Charles Hart and Gwynn very much as caricatures which could be tedious but ends up being belly-achingly funny because of the self aware nature of Swale's writing and Christopher Luscombe's production. The lavish and decadent design from Hugh Durrant evokes the majesty of the theatre and court whilst there are undercurrents of Gwynn's lowly birth through a fantastic yet short performance from Sarah Woodward as Nell's mother who drank from a man's drink. Gugu Mbatha-Raw is comical, feisty and an independent Nell who helps bring a feminist quality to the piece through the comedy. The rest of the cast are also fantastic, notably David Sturzaker's bewildered and fun king and Greg Hastie as the threatened actor who plays the women parts who has a fantastic sequence in showing the many different uses of a fan. This must be the funniest play produced on the Globe stage.
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Commercial theatre companies like the Michael Grandage Company are never going to produce ground-breaking theatre if they have to balance the books whilst selling seats for £10 in the front row of the stalls. This being said, Nicole Kidman's great return to theatre is rather daring, doing an unknown play about the forgotten woman in the discovery of DNA. Having studied the History of Medicine for History GCSE, I had some knowledge of Crick and Watson's discovery and knew of Rosalind Franklin. This play examines Franklin's role closely and talks about how an individuals role is forgotten. Anna Ziegler's play tells Franklin's story with the use of flashbacks from the five other scientists arguing over Franklin's ability and personality which is expertly executed with great lighting design from Neil Austin that make subtle changes between time periods. Christopher Oram creates a set very much in keeping with his other designs for the company with an archaic flavour juxtaposed with the modern flooring. It isn't instantly relevant but there is a hint of this groundbreaking work going on in the these old, crumbling institutions. The whole production revolves around Kidman, who, unlike her character, is always centre stage and at times feels like a vehicle for the great actress yet the production doesn't suffer because of it. She is moving in her lack of emotion in a way that so few actors can do. It is almost overwhelming and heartbreaking after a difficult first half. She is supported by a great supporting cast who make up for their lack of diversity with solid performances. Stephen Campbell Moore is almost sympathetic as Kidman's appallingly sexist colleague whilst relative newcomer Joshua Silver brings charm and a purely likeable character as Franklin's assistant who is the human voice in the play. Crick and Watson are played as jarring and grating by Edward Bennett and Will Attenborough whilst the American fan played by Patrick Kennedy helps to bring out a more emotional wreck performance from Nicole Kidnan. I can't evaluate the Winters Tale metaphor properly as I rather ignorantly don't know the plot yet the feminist message it portrayed was rather moving in a world that knows John Gielgud as one of the masters yet have forgotten his female counterpart Diana Wynard (a name I had to look up). This production is striking and shows that commercial theatre can be interesting, if not totally radical.
It is pointless for the Young Vic to be transformed into a pros space. For such an immersive and vibrant theatre, you feel slightly disconnected with a traditional staging. Despite this, no Ivo Van Hove production can be dull and here, where a man is naked for 40 minutes of this monologue is guaranteed to engage most audience members for 1 hour 20 minutes. One of the things SImon Stephen's monologue is advertised as being about 'unsettling sex'. What needs to be established is that, just because a playwright describes a man's homosexuality, it doesn't mean that it is an analysis or dissection of sexuality. Sex is very secondary here, with this piece being mainly about the family relationship, with the nudity being a metaphor of this man being stripped of the protective clothing and left exposed to the wounds of his previous life. Jan Versweyveld's design is a bare and lifeless room that represents the loss of feeling Willem has experienced towards his family, including his dead brother. It is a complex and layered production which occasionally can become slow however, a convincing performance from the well toned Eelco Smith as the vulnerable Willem is raw and engaging, with a final scene that is rather emotional. The use of music from Mark Eitzel is interesting even if the actual theme isn't of a high enough quality to be a convincing theme to be catchy. Whilst this is no 'A View from the Bridge' it is still a poignant and quality production from the pair from Toneelgroep to show British creative teams how to do it.
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The Royal Court has somewhat diverted from its radical and experimental pathway with the latest Martin McDonagh play, which feels far more of a traditional piece than usual, with a more or less old-fashioned set from Anna Fleischle (apart from a spectacular scene change after a shocking prologue) and a structure that resembles a 'normal' play . This was my first McDonagh play and, despite the above, I was taken aback at how dark this piece is. Humour is found in the most shocking places with a final scene that was horrifying yet hilarious at the same time. Whilst the play lacks emotion at times, it is expertly crafted . The cast solidly reinforces this with David Morrisey (a hearty 'hello to Jason Isaacs' to him) playing Harry the hangman and publican with a sense of hubris and a menacing façade hiding an all too human man whose heart is shown at the twist before the interval. Reece Sheersmith plays a part that suits his style, reminding me of characters in Phsycoville and the excellent Inside No. 9, and is fantastically comic in his earnest and Machiavellian role. Jonny Flynn's Mooney is also fantastically unhinged and unpredictable. My sole criticism would be the casting of an all white cast which doesn't seem too important but I don't particularly want to rant about that again. A West End run seems inevitable for this remarkably macabre and smoky production and it will be deserved from a play that is wonderfully divisive and manipulative.
It would be very tempting for someone, when watching the Globe's Oresteia, to compare Aeschylus' play to the revolutionary Almeida production. Rory Mullarky's adaptation was never going to be as good as Icke's but it certainly is a very different production. This production keeps closer to the original in terms of plot, with a prominent chorus and lots of blood. There are many, many flaws. The views expressed in the final segment need updating and a new approach whereas Mullarky does not resolve some of the more problematic views on gender (when the line 'The mother's just a vessel' is played straight', you start to question this adaptation), Clytemnestra's character isn't developed enough and feels one-dimensional at times, and the dry chorus parts miss out the real 'action' that could feel potentially interesting. Despite this, the rhythms and eloquence of the language suits the majesty and vast space of the Globe. Adele Thomas directs a militaristic and at times surreal production with an off-putting atonal score from Mira Calix and a giant penis being paraded out for no apparent reason in bizarre conclusion to events. Hannah Clark's design mixes Greek tradition with a bloody dystopian future rather well and creates a sense of atmosphere that is similar to Titus Andronicus last year, even if it isn't quite as strong. The cast are solid and convincing in their roles. Katy Stephen's makes the most of her part as Clytemnestra whilst Trevor Fox's Aegisthus is a crazy counterpoint to George Irving's aloof Agamemnon. The Chorus, however, are the most impressive here who are at times divided and are one of the most effective Greek choruses I have seen. I feel sorry for the Globe for the clash of Oresteia's this season however, even without the competition, it is a deeply flawed production that struggles to keep it's audience interested for the long running time.
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Seeing Lela & Co being compared to the infamous Blasted by Sarah Kane in a review scared me. Comparing anything to a play in which eating dead babies wasn't the most horrible thing there is slightly off-putting. Whilst there is no baby eating here, it is still a horrifying depiction of an abused and neglected woman. You enter through a dark corridor with defiled newspaper cuttings and sexist posters before coming out into a space, designed by Ana Inés Jabares Pita, that has a garish stage that is in the corner whilst Katie West sits in an egg-shaped chair and a nervous looking David Mumeni welcomes audience members in. From the outset, you can see the controlling nature of Mumeni's character and the controlled nature of West's Lela. This carries on once the play begins. The play text describes it as a monologue but from the outset Mumeni's male character's interject and undermine whatever Lela says. As the play carries on, it starts to be confused as to whether it is a monologue or actual conversations and scenes, which starts to detract from the plays power. The start has an absurd over-theatricality to it, with every gesture from the men exaggerated and aware. However, the façade fades very quickly and, as the darkness falls, the language and situation becomes more and more grotesque. West's storytelling is vivid and charismatic whilst Mumeni has a scary and slimy nature to him. The darkness allows certain images to infiltrate your brain and create a far more frightening picture than by depicting the acts on stage. Jude Christian's direction occasionally feels confused with an odd aside comparing the hell of Lela's situation to a modern day business which feels disconnected to the aesthetic of the production. However, despite this and Cordelia Lynn's confusion over the play's form, it makes for a powerful and deeply upsetting 90 minutes.
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Thanks to the unique staging of this opera, the Royal Opera House has offered a unique opportunity to students to stand in the orchestra pit to witness Hofesh Shechter and John Fulljames' radical staging of Gluck's interpretation of the story of Orpheus. As this was the final dress rehearsal, some aspects may have been change by opening night, not least the faulty surtitle machine that did not work in the first half and flickered on and off throughout the considerably shorter second half. Not being aware of the myth of Orpheus, I was slightly confused at the interval, considering it is sung in French in a production whose main purpose isn't to provide a precise and clear narrative. Despite this, the sheer talent on stage kept me engaged for the first 75 minutes before the interval, where I reached for the synopsis. On the dancing side, the Hofesh Schechter company have an animalistic and aggressive sensibility which work well in their part as furies and helps to show the funeral rituals at the beginning of the opera. Juan Diego Florez sings Orpheus but he doesn't quite reach the heart like Lucy Crowe, Amanda Forsythe , and the Montiverdi choir do. Lucy Crowe in particular is convincing and rather touching. Conor Murphy's design is grand yet simple with the exception of the hydraulic system that moves the English Baroque Soloists up and down. I love a baroque opera and of the three I've seen it slots neatly in the middle of Glyndebourne's magnificent offering and the ENO's chaotic one with this different offering for a positive start to a new Royal Opera House season.
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There are few shows at the Churchill that, for me, feel like professional shows.The years of pantomimes and other poor productions (and even good ones) in this eerily empty-feeling building often makes me depressed on the walk up Bromley High Street. Avenue Q is the first production in this building that has felt like the same standard as a West End production. It is a pastiche on Sesame Street, with some very funny sequences on television screens, but this is not for the Sesame Street audience. This musical contains rude language, innuendo and full on puppet sex scenes. To some extent, I agree with the film critic Robbie Collin when he says that Seth Macfarlane films (but is also applicable to this musical) are just white men laughing at ethnic minorities and this is true to some extent with Avenue Q. However, it is done with the right intentions from Robert Lopez and so the jokes about black people, the Japanese and homosexuals are contextualised in the song 'Everyone's a little bit racist. The set design from Richard Evans looks like every other Avenue Q set design but is professionally done. The puppeteers and actors are truly astonishing, switching between characters at the drop of a hat often speaking whilst another puppeteer moves the puppet they are portraying. The actors disappear and the puppets become the characters, which is a brilliant feat for a show like this. They make the characters their own however they often resort to the voices that have always been used in those characters and it can occasionally seem shackled by the previous long-running productions there have been of this. Saying this, it is a riotous night out at the theatre and is ultimately uplifting.
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This is finally the National Theatre at full strength again. It's collaboration with Headlong has created a masterpiece in theatrical spectacle thanks to one person. People, Places and Things will be the play that will catapult Denise Gough into the public eye in her indescribable performance as a drug addict trying to get clean. Her curtain call reminded me of Gillian Anderson at the end of Streetcar; with a face of pure exhaustion and appreciation for the standing ovation that she more than deserved. She is on stage at every moment in the play in a role that uses tiny changes in accent to huge ranges in emotion. Her part requires her to have the audience on her side whilst she is being the most awful human being and perform on a traverse space whilst also moving to Bunny Chrisite's intricate designs and Jeremy Herrin's precise direction. There is one particular moment where I felt so connected with her that I was muttering 'don't do it' under my breath in perhaps the simplest yet most tense moment of theatre possible. A mixture of the clinical design and the clever direction adds yet more life to Duncan Macmillan's text. The post-modern attitude on theatre almost became pretentious but Gough's real portrayal of her character kept me from feeling annoyed at the jokes about Hedda Gabler, The Seagull and Titus Andronicus. The ensemble cast supports Gough wonderfully, especially Barbara Marten, Nathaniel Martello-White and Kevin McMonagie who help maintain a sense of realism. I don't think the National should be worried about another award free year this time around with this genius piece of inventive theatre.
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It is 1928 and Berlin is in full swing with jazz and wealth at it's peak. We are transported here in the Southwark Playhouse to a hotel full of life. Having listened back to the original soundtrack to this musical, it isn't a brilliant score from Maury Yeston. The luxurious music often jars with the sudden and odd change of pace on the soundtrack yet Michael Bradley and his band makes the transition sound natural and clever. The jazz is delightful with wonderful choreography from Lee Proud that captures the decadence of the age. The young cast are supremely talented whilst the more experienced actors inject a sense of realism and add the context of a society out of a World War with the cynicism they supply that doesn't make this seem vacuous. This is down to the brilliant direction from Thom Sutherland that turns this largely inconsequential musical that only vaguely touches on racism and domestic abuse with no real consequence into a deep and interesting piece on class divisions, with a final scene that acknowledges the effect of the Wall Street Crash the year after the time it is set in and the inevitable reality of Nazism. The overall experience of this show was far better than half of the big shows on the West End and you get more than just decadent style but a clever and talented interpretation into this more intimate space.
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I always love a last performance at the Globe. At the end of a run, Dominic Dromgoole stands on stage and gives us a chance to appreciate everyone involved in the time we spend their. From the stewards to the hair and makeup, it all contributes to our experience of theatre and Globe especially should be praised for their high standards and welcoming and inclusive attitude. No production is worthy of praise more than John Dove's sensitive and heart-breaking production of Helen Edmunsdon's Heresy of Love. It tells the story of Sister Juana and her fight for knowledge within the strict Catholic church. The feminist message hits home yet it isn't heavy or clunky as a result. With a similar look to Blue Stockings, Michael Taylor and John Dove create a world of inequality where women are used and exploited within the Catholic church. Saying that, it doesn't attack religion, with a wonderfully uplifting debunking of the Archbishop's sermon that embraces religion and even the odd transubstantiation bits of the Catholic faith aren't dismissed as absurd. Naomi Frederick is a beautiful Juana who is understated yet strong and wonderfully independent. The rest of the cast are unrecognisable from their underwhelming As You Like It, with wonderfully developed secondary characters that you can empathise with being performed with a striking mix of comedy and heart. The tragedy creeps under your skin in the second half, leaving me sobbing as Juana is teared apart. To be honest, this is one of the best things I have seen at the Globe and I am so glad that I was able to catch this poignant and profound production.
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Future Conditional is not a good play. In trying to capture all the elements of the education system, Tamsin Oglesby creates a play that almost takes the form of a sketch show that happens to contain a debate about the state of British education. Unfortunately, the form the drama takes is not suited to the message the playwright wants to get across. However, the biggest problem with the play itself is the lack of children in it. With the exception of Alia, no students are characters in the play until the last scene which is nonsensical for a play about schools. It is admirable for the Vic to recruit a cast of fresh faces, with Nikki Patel making her stage debut. Her Alia is a wonderfully judged part that doesn't exploit her character's background for sympathy but instead is played straight which helps her win hearts through her logic rather than her situation. The rest of the young cast are equally brilliant however, in the mothers in playground scenes, Natalie Klamar's Suzy, who seems to have the view that the playwright wants us to root for, is entirely unsympathetic meaning that I really couldn't care for any of their imaginary children as all of the mothers were the most appalling people other than perhaps Amy Dawson's Kaye who is a victim of society rather than playing an active role in the continuation of the vicious secondary school game. I recognised their stereotypes in life, as I did in Rob Brydon's inspirational teacher yet he is no Hector not is he anything as inspirational as many of the teachers I have at my school. However this play isn't The History Boys and Brydon's performance is still excellent with his dulcet and lyrical tones providing a refreshing change of pace. He needed a prompt once which can be forgiven this early into previews and is great to see on the stage. Joshua McGuire gives the best performance of the evening, managing to make the posh Eton boy at the committee meeting seem almost sensible at sometimes and is one of the finest young talents I have seen. Rob Howell's attempt to evoke the school playground with his design is poor and makes this beautiful space look awful. The cast fail to recover a bad play, leading for Matthew Warchus' reign to make a rocky start.
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I went into this production with next to no expectations. I had no knowledge of the fashion designer Alexander McQueen, of whom this play is based around, and, whilst I was vaguely aware of the mediocre reviews both at St. James' theatre and at the Haymarket, it was only on a whim that I purchased a day seat for this. It is a total surprise, therefore, to have such a mesmerising theatrical experience. This play attempts to get inside the head of this fashion designer in order to capture such a hectic and crazy life into two hours and fifteen minutes of theatre through the device of taking a stalker on a night out in London. It captures an eerie and deep truth of the human brain in a sensory experience that is well considered. The idea of beauty and it's supernatural qualities are conveyed ingeniously through the ensemble dancers whilst the discussion on mental illness does not feel exploitative and is judged well. I feel that a better production of this could be made as the LED screens are off-putting and whilst the discussions of beauty are good, there needs to be more of it on stage. However, Stephen Wight's Lee is impressive in his wit and complexity whilst his supporting cast are great so small production qualms I have can be overlooked for an innovative play that goes beyond the biopic I expected.
