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.
