Theatre review: The Twentieth Century Way

I’m doing that thing again where I review a show that’s closed. Sorry. But stick with me, there’s good stuff in here.

The Twentieth Century Way is a rather glorious euphemism for gay men in the early twentieth century using the advent of zip flies to access anonymous sex in public places. I love this as a phrase.

It’s also a play, by Tom Jacobson, that tells the story of a couple of actors on the make, Warren and Brown, who offer their services to various local police forces posing as gay men themselves to entrap real gay men in these situations, marking their bits with indelible ink and calling police backup to arrest them.

I say that, but it becomes increasingly obvious in the eighty minute run time that this isn’t what the play is about. Or at least not everything it’s about. And this is where the fun lies.

The play switches between the multiple stories of the characters Warren and Brown are playing and the real gay men they are fooling. But it also incorporates the story of Warren and Brown themselves and, getting more meta, the real life actors playing them. You very quickly start to question what is really happening here. Are the (fictional) actors actually taking part in these entrapment schemes? Is it all just, as the very beginning of the play sets it up, an improvisation game between two bored (fictional) actors in an audition waiting room? And what have the real life actors got to do with all of this? Where does their reality fit into the multiple stories they’re telling and the multiple levels of truth, or otherwise, they reveal?

If that all sounds a bit pretentious and complicated then, in truth, that’s because it is. But it’s also really entertaining, engaging and an interesting way to portray the age old debates about the nature of truth and acting that are explored in so many plays in more conventional ways. And of course Warren and Brown’s scheme is based on a true story so the play is also a fascinating piece of social history as well.

Adding to the confusion and excitement of this piece is the fact that it is entirely played by two actors, James Sindall and Fraser Wall, on stage the whole time, making only the most minor changes in their accents, mannerisms and costumes to demark the myriad different characters they both play. Again it’s a piece of theatrical trickery but, again, it works. It is very, very occasionally overdone - with both of the actors being given ‘party piece’ sequences to show off as many characters as quickly as possible in a slightly irritating way - but the two are both really impressive. The subtleties of the physical changes they make whilst still managing to portray recognisably different characters is incredible, as is the sheer range of emotion and characterisation they’re able to create. It feels wrong to single one person out in a two man show, but Wall in particular is fantastic. Both are names to watch out for in the future I suspect.

Admittedly this show, which was playing at the teeny tiny (and utterly adorable) Jermyn Street Theatre, has now closed. But I’d be amazed if it doesn’t reappear in London in some guise again and I do hope it’s this one so more people get a chance to see it. In any guise, it’s certainly worth seeing; in this one, it’s fantastic.

Theatre Review: This House

If there were some kind of master list of things I love in this world, theatre and slightly obscure political geekery would definitely both be on it.

It may not surprise you to learn, then, that a play that tells the story of the internal machinations of the Labour and Conservative whips offices in the 1970s is 100% up my street. At least 100%. More if that were mathematically possible.

Of course the play in question is This House, because even if you’ve somehow stumbled this far without reading the title of the post what other play could that last paragraph possibly be describing? A speedy, but timely, revival of James Graham's 2012 National Theatre production, involving many of the original creative team, This House tells the story of the hot mess that was British politics in the mid to late 70s through the eyes of the men and woman (not a typo) whose job it was to try and keep their respective parties' shows on the road.

For a political saddo like me, there was no way I wasn't going to find this play fascinating. And I did, but I also absolutely loved it which I don't think was as guaranteed (though admittedly fairly likely). What's arguably more interesting is why I loved it: yes the political stuff is super interesting and done really well, but more than that this play is so innovative, so funny and - most surprisingly - so humane that I fell for it utterly.

Let's deal with the political stuff first because, at least from the experience of the non-political friend I went with, this seems to be the thing that's making some people nervous about seeing this play. Based on my highly scientific survey of one person, there seems to be a fear that if you don't understand the ins and outs of Parliamentary procedure - who the fuck does? - or the key political events of the 1970s (and let's be honest there are a lot of those) you won't understand or worse won't enjoy This House. That's not at all the case. The play explains the events you need to know about well. It works subtle explanations of the key bits of Parliamentary ridiculousness into the dialogue. It almost never uses the names of any of the real politicians who feature, referring to them instead by their constituency thus making it much easier to keep track of who's doing what for non-geeks in the audience (whilst providing the geeks with a fun game of spot the MP). It makes a play about arguably one of the least accessible democratic institutions in the world into something completely accessible to anyone, and it does it so subtly. That in itself is worthy of love and praise.

It's more than that though, so much more. As interested as This House is in political history, it's also interested in ideas of identity, loyalty, honour, how far you should go to defend your deepest held beliefs and what happens when all of these things interact and conflict. James Graham's writing across all of these 'big ideas' and the political stuff is superb - funny, touching, straightforward and razor sharp. It connects with the audience in a genuinely exciting way that shows off live theatre at its very best; I lost count of the number of audible gasps from the audience I heard on the night I saw it. He is backed up by fantastic design that turns the stage into a miniature House of Commons, variously accommodating the two whips teams' offices and the House of Commons (and indeed real life auditorium) bar on the floor in the middle of the two sets of benches.

It also helps the play that Graham's lead characters, whilst based on real people, are not household names. He focuses his action particularly around the Labour and Tory Deputy Chief Whips, sensibly as they are the ones who are supposed to do the deals with other parties and with their own backbenchers. It's certainly not a hindrance to my love of This House that this production has the excellent Steffan Rhodri and Nathaniel Parker, two of my absolute faves, in these key roles. Rhodri in particular is excellent as Walter Harrison, the hard arse with a heart Labour Deputy whilst Parker is a perfectly patrician foil as Jack Weatherill, his Tory counterpart. The climactic scene where Jack offers to defy his own whip on a vote to bring down the Labour Government to cancel out the vote of a dying Labour MP who Walter is refusing to call down to London to vote for fear the effort would kill him, only for Walter to refuse the offer in the knowledge that Labour will lose the vote, is a beautifully understated study in notions of honour, friendship and humanity. It was the recipient of at least one hugely audible audience gasp, and rightly so. A hardworking ensemble cast plays all the rest of the many characters exceptionally well too. I am jealous of the guy who got to play Norman St John-Stevas, Ken Clarke and Michael Heseltine!

Honestly, I cannot recommend this production enough. Political or otherwise there's so much here to love. A genuine must see in a year when perhaps we all do need a lesson in how to laugh at politics again and a timely reminder that politicians are actually human beings (most of them).

This House plays at the Garrick Theatre until February 25th.

Theatre Review: Hedda Gabler

As ways of starting 2017 go, an egotistical sociopath standing over a woman in a nightgown spitting tomato juice in her face seems strangely appropriate.

I don’t know about you, but I woke up on New Year’s Day still finding the world as scary and disorienting a place as I did in 2016. The escapism of theatre is more necessary for me at the moment than I can ever remember it being. Even when said theatre is some bleak ass Ibsen.

Hedda Gabler, currently playing at the NT (whose building feels like a safe haven for the Liberal Metropolitan Elite such as myself), is classic Ibsen. Newly married Hedda hates her life, her husband and all of the inconsequential or downright nasty men and women around her. But she’s trapped, her only potential escape being the two pistols that belonged to her father. If ever a play was a metaphor for the times then this is it.

One of the main draws of this production for many people is the fact that it’s directed by Ivo van Hove, Belgian avant garde director du jour, making his NT debut. I loved van Hove’s A View from the Bridge a couple of years ago A LOT (his basically non-existent staging and design removed all distractions from the bleak and brilliant text and superb cast, making the production all the more powerful) but, from a directorial point of view, his Hedda Gabler feels visually overcooked, almost like someone doing a van Hove impression. Scenes of Hedda throwing flowers around and then stapling them to the walls are incredibly heavy handed and the aforementioned addition of Brack spitting tomato juice over Hedda in various ways during their final confrontation serves only to take drama and malice out of that key scene (Rafe Spall’s performance as Brack is far too strong to need any help here).

That said there is a lot about van Hove’s contribution to the production that I do love: for example his use of music, particularly the heartbeat-style incidental music that plays as background in key scenes, is great, as is the lighting and the clever set with no doors (actors enter and exit through the auditorium doors). It’s also a fantastically well paced production that absolutely whizzed by in two and a half hours. The second act in particular is super quick, rushing towards its increasingly inevitable denouement without ever feeling either rushed or inevitable.

For me, the best thing about this production though is Patrick Marber’s version of the text. Whilst admittedly this isn’t a play I know anywhere near well enough to judge this version against any others, on its own merits Marber gives us a funny, sparky, dark and extremely entertaining take on Ibsen. It’s not at all what I expected, mostly because I laughed so much.  That’s not to say he makes light of the story of the characters, he just handles them in such a way as to draw out the absurdity and black humour of them and their situation that is already in the text.

The excellent cast also helps to draw this out really effectively. Ruth Wilson is the headline booking in the title role and she is an enjoyably sardonic, relatively sympathetic, Hedda who really excels in the black comedy of Marber’s script. If you like her work in The Affair, you’ll like her work in this. The standout star for me though is Rafe Spall as an exceptionally unpleasant and exceptionally charismatic Judge Brack. This oily, clever, laddish Brack is evidently a nasty piece of work from the first moment he bounds into the auditorium but is so fucking cool (and hot) that you’re willing not to care about that for most of the play. It’s a scene stealing joy of a performance.

Hedda Gabler was a great production to start my 2017 theatregoing with and one I’d definitely recommend, especially if you’re more of an Ivo van Hove devotee than I am. And plenty of people seem to agree with me - tickets are incredibly scarce so your best bet of catching this one is its NT Live outing on 9th March.

Hedda Gabler is in the Lyttelton at the National Theatre until 21st March.

2016 Theatre: Top 10 Performances

Pulling together a list of my favourite performances in 2016 was tougher than usual since so many of my favourite productions were ensemble pieces.

But no effort is too great for my readers, all three of you, and there were some standout performances from both expected and less expected places this year.

So, in rough order...

Harriet Walter
Shakespeare Trilogy, Donmar Warehouse
Utter legend in being legendary non-surprise but still by far the best performance (performances technically) of the year. The range and depth of Walter’s skill in these three plays was astonishing. A force of nature. (Also her book on playing Shakespeare is ace.)

Helen McCrory
The Deep Blue Sea, National Theatre
Another performance I fully expected to be excellent which was in fact excellent, even more excellent than I’d expected. Providing the fragile heart and surprisingly strong soul of this all round fantastic production, McCrory is just one of the best actresses around in any medium. Seeing her on stage is always a joy.

Elizabeth Marsh
Iron, Theatre By The Lake
The extreme wildcard of this list and a revelation in a very unexpected place (the Lake District). A timely reminder that there is theatrical life beyond London - far, far beyond London in this case - and an absolutely killer central performance, pun intended, in a play I’d like to see again. One of the most raw and vulnerable performances I’ve seen and all the more powerful for it.

James McArdle
Platonov, Young Chekhov, Chichester Festival Theatre/National Theatre
If Chekhov isn’t supposed to be funny then no one told James McArdle. A perfectly pitched, tragi-comic romp of a production that anchored Platonov and gave it depth as well as a genuine sense of uncontrollable fun. Cannot wait to see more of this dude in Angels in America next year.

Danny Sapani
Les Blancs, National Theatre
I liked Sapani the last time I saw him (Jason to Helen McCrory’s Medea at the NT, funnily enough) and I loved him in this. A performance of great dignity and greater anguish, he elevated an already great production into something really special indeed. More of him please.

Lucian Msamati
Amadeus, National Theatre
One of my favourite actors continuing to prove why he gets that billing. An incredibly demanding role, and one that had it been miscast would have killed the production dead before it reached the rehearsal room, handled with the utmost ease, humour and emotional clout. I genuinely love this man a little bit.

Andy Karl
Groundhog Day, Old Vic
That Karl is headlining the Groundhog Day Broadway transfer will come as no surprise to anyone who saw the London run. A riotous joy of cynicism, humour and unsentimental emotion with a killer singing voice and excellent hair who carried this show with apparently no effort.

Ralph Fiennes
Richard III, Almeida 
You can’t go too far wrong when you combine Shakespeare and Ralph Fiennes. Such was the case with his greasy, charismatic and dangerous Richard III. It was also a thrill to see him in a space as intimate as the Almeida. Close up Ralph Fiennes is the best Ralph Fiennes.

Tamsin Greig
The Intelligent Homosexual’s Guide to Capitalism and Socialism with a Key to the Scriptures, or iHo, Hampstead Theatre
The emotional heart of this production was undoubtedly Greig’s Empty. The scenes between her and her ailing father were incredibly poignant and, perhaps more remarkably, incredibly real.

Paapa Essiedu
Hamlet, RSC
It’s so refreshing to see Hamlet played by someone who’s actually the right age to play him. Essiedu is a superstar in the making and seeing what I hope will be his big break was a thrill. Great production, greater Hamlet.

Theatre Review: Art

As premises for comedies go, an argument over whether or not someone should give house room to a white painting - white lines on a white canvass - must be one of the more leftfield. That it’s author is French should perhaps come as no surprise.

Welcome to the world of Art, the modern classic black comedy which has been performed around the world in approximately eight billion productions. Ok so that may be a slight exaggeration, but it's fair to say it has been done a lot. With the Old Vic's new production introducing a new cast to the original 1996 West End creative team, is it really still worth anyone's time? Pleasingly, yes it is.

Translated by Christopher Hampton from Yasmina Reza's French original, Art tells the story of three friends, one of whom buys a ridiculously expensive white painting. The reactions of the other two leads to the near disintegration of their friendship. It is a comedy but, like many of the best comedies, there is a viciousness, a seriousness and a darkness at its heart.

Though there have been many Art casts down the years, this one is a welcome addition to the list. Paul Ritter is acerbically great as arch frenemy Marc, his dry one liners delivered with the appropriate amount of affection and malice. Rufus Sewell is a joyously unsympathetic Serge, all faux warmth and righteous indignation (and achingly attractive but that’s by the by). Tim Key is the star though as Yvan, the only character who’s not an utter shit. Key laps up the audience’s sympathy through a combination of everyman affability and understandable neuroses. For those who know the play, his wedding invitation breakdown is an absolute joy and the unquestionable highlight of the production.

The original creative team have certainly aged well too. Notably praiseworthy amongst those is the Old Vic’s Artistic Director Matthew Warchus who directs here and does it with considerable aplomb. The pacing of the production, not something I usually immediately notice unless it’s wrong, is immaculate; pacey but not rushed. And the simple design, unchanged as far as I can tell from the mid-90s original, is still deceptively simple and effective.

Yasmina Reza’s writing is great - punchy, relatable and very funny. There are some fantastic, memorable lines; 'life denying woman' is my new favourite insult for example. In the post-Brexit, post-Trump, post-truth age the play’s focus on how people react to being disagreed with feels very relevant and the emotional punches it draws out of this premise are fantastically vivid. My only small criticism is that it does very obviously sound like a translation, which of course it is, in that some of the dialogue and particularly the monologues sound a bit clunky to a native English ear. But that doesn’t detract from the overall effect though and is really just me nitpicking.

Having never seen another production of Art I can’t say where this sits in the league table. However, judged on its own merits this production is great: very funny, brutal, pacey and a fab night out.

Art plays at the Old Vic until 18th February.

2016 Theatre: My Top 10 Shows

Never has a year needed theatre more than the clusterfuck that has been 2016.

I mean Jesus Christ what a shower. Where do you even start, or indeed finish, on the list of terrible things that have happened? The election of the world’s most unpresidented man as the most powerful man in the world is surely the highlight but the rest of the list is far too long to even embark on. So let’s not. Let’s go for a happier list.

Perhaps it’s a reaction to 2016, but there are an unusually high number of upbeat musicals in my top 10 this year. There’s also a pleasing amount of heavyweight drama, enough to make me feel culturally superior in a deeply snobbish way.

Here’s the list, in rough order...

Into the Woods
Fiasco/Menier Chocolate Factory
Genuinely unlike anything I’ve ever seen before, and quite possibly unlike anything I’ll see again, there is no end to the love I have for this production. And indeed this company. Probably the thing I loved most, quite apart from the extraordinary talent of the cast and their beautiful interpretation of one of Sondheim’s lushest scores, was the joy that oozed from every cast member and every moment of the show. The perfect antidote to 2016.

Shakespeare Trilogy
Donmar Warehouse
Staying with the theme of uniqueness, I have never seen clearer or more revelatory productions of Shakespeare. The setting of the three chosen plays in a women’s prison, framing the stories within the semi-fictional life stories of the prisoners was a masterstroke that clarified the text and key themes so well. One of those productions that can genuinely be described as an experience, and a privilege to have seen.

Show Boat
Sheffield Crucible/West End
No particular prizes for uniqueness here, other than the sheer quality of this utter babe of a production. Looked stunning, sounded stunning, a superlative cast and a knockout score played perfectly. Joyous.

Guys and Dolls
Chichester Festival Theatre/West End
This was the first thing I saw this year and, evidently, has hardly been bettered. Again, a tremendous production of a killer show with a fantastic cast. The choreography gets a special mention too, the presence of Carlos Acosta as a choreographer was certainly not wasted. And Sit Down You’re Rocking the Boat was perfect.

The Deep Blue Sea
National Theatre
At the less happy clappy end of the scale but no less enjoyable for that. A dream cast delivering an acting masterclass on a set that could’ve walked straight off a film and a play that I loved a lot. Such a powerful, sad but ultimately affirming production. The pick of a reasonably strong year at the NT too.

Groundhog Day
Old Vic
Fair to say I was sceptical about this one but my goodness what a lovely surprise. The genius of Tim Minchin’s music and another knockout cast won me over totally, along with innovative staging and a general air of irreverent fun. Will surely blow everyone away when it transfers to Broadway next year.

Young Chekhov
Chichester Festival Theatre/National Theatre
Another trilogy, another triumph. Superbly acted across the board with an extra star in the incredible, beautiful set. Who knew the Olivier stage could be a lake? As a non-Chekhovian I really went to see these productions because I felt I should, not because I wanted to. It was an exceptionally nice surprise to enjoy them so much.

Amadeus
National Theatre
An absolute joy of a production, and a fitting love letter to the power and joy of music. Whoever decided to do the whole thing with a live orchestra, the exceptional Southbank Sinfonia, should also get some kind of small award.

The Intelligent Homosexual’s Guide to Capitalism and Socialism with a Key to the Scriptures, or iHo
Hampstead Theatre
Included not only because I love the title, this was a funny, touching, real production that was deeply affecting and fantastically staged. I never expected to enjoy a play where so many people spent so much time speaking over each other could work so well.

Les Blancs
National Theatre
Yael Farber’s NT directorial debut was a stunner. A depressing stunner, but a stunner nonetheless. Perhaps depressing is the wrong word. Moving is probably what I mean. Another great example of what can be achieved by an innovative design on the Olivier stage too.

Theatre Review: the Donmar Shakespeare Trilogy

It says a lot about the Donmar Warehouse’s Shakespeare Trilogy that it’s been three weeks (shut up, I’ve been busy) since I spent my Saturday huddled in their temporary, chilly, Kings Cross home and yet I can still remember the productions well enough to write a blog post about them.

The main thing that it says of course is that these productions are exceptional and I loved them to bits. Spoiler alert.

But then is it really a spoiler given the first third of this trilogy, Phyllida Lloyd’s prison-set all female Julius Caesar, is now four years old? And the second third, Phyllida Lloyd’s prison-set all female Henry IV, is two years old. In a shocking development, the new final third of the trilogy is Phyllida Lloyd’s prison-set all female The Tempest. All three utilise the same cast, anchored by the mighty Harriet Walter, and the same technique of framing the plays within the stories of the women prisoners who populate the prison setting. Or to put it another way, the actors are playing prisoners playing the Shakespeare characters; the Shakespeare becomes plays within the plays.

This is one of the too-many-to-list things about these productions that make them so powerful. The interplay between the plays, the fictional actresses playing in them and their stories is incredibly effectively executed and used, intruding on the plays at key moments to up the drama and the emotional ante. Particularly in the second two thirds of the Trilogy the prisoners’ stories intermingle with the Shakespeare with incredible power. I don’t want to go into too much detail, because spoilers, but the moments in Henry IV and The Tempest where the prisoners playing Falstaff and Prospero’s respective realities burst through the play are probably the most impactful moments of theatre I’ve seen this year.

Much is understandably made of the fact that the casts for all three plays in the Trilogy are completely female. Certainly some of the ‘I’m just a weak and feeble woman’ nonsense you almost always get in a Shakespeare play is illuminated by having a woman’s mouth speaking it. But the more interesting point the casting makes is how universal the themes in these plays are. Any person can become a Caesarian demagogue and any person can rebel against them. The gender is entirely unimportant. Of course the women’s prison setting also makes the casting a necessity and as such instantly removes any questions from the audience’s mind about the suitability of women playing these parts, if indeed anyone had any. It’s another way that the setting helps to shine a spotlight on plot and character, and clarify the plays. The two hour run times help also in this regard.

The main thing of note about this cast though is that they are without exception mind blowingly good. Harriet Walter is nothing short of a force of nature as Brutus, Henry IV and Prospero respectively. Prospero is probably the highlight, utilising Walter’s incredible capacity for pathos to conjure something uniquely sad and touching (and making the most of some of Shakespeare’s most interesting and beautiful poetry). Her prisoner character is also the most effectively wrought - and the saddest, a political prisoner on a life sentence with no hope of parole. Her meltdown in The Tempest is awful but amazing to witness. Sophie Stanton is a revelation as Falstaff in Henry IV, funny and sad with an excellent line in Donald Trump jokes (I think these may be additions to the original text…) who, again, works equally hard and delivers the scene of the day in the brief appearance of her prisoner character. Jacky Clune (highlight: a dangerous, magnetic Caesar), Jade Anouka (equally good as Marc Antony, Harry Hotspur and Ariel) and Clare Dunne (highlight: a hypnotic Prince Hal) also standout in what is surely the strongest ensemble in London at the moment. Or at almost any moment in fact.

There are many other awesome things about this production that I’m not going to go into - the brutal, discomforting design, the clever use of lighting, video and music, the fact that the venue and the front of house staff are just lovely - because otherwise we’d be here all day.

Suffice it to say that theatre rarely gets any better than this. The Shakespeare Trilogy is a marvel. I wonder if I’ll ever connect as strongly with the big man than I did watching it?

The Shakespeare Trilogy plays at the King’s Cross Theatre until December 17th. It’s day returns only at this point, but 100% worth queuing for if you can.