Category: Uncategorized

L’uomo by Lo-Giudice Dance // 01.06.2019

L’uomo (as part of the ‘Northern Stage is Curious’ event) presents an entanglement of passion, intimacy and prejudice in a captivating and heart-felt dance theatre duet.

The performance, comprised of poetic gestural exchanges, examines and highlights the concerns same-sex couples feel every day when showing intimacy in public, such as a contemptuous gaze from across the street in response to taking the hand of a partner. The duet refused to hide behind long and complex movement phrases, this personal, intimate and heart-felt subject was handled extremely sensitively and intelligently; the most intense and emotive moments were the ones of a touch, a smile, an embrace, a connection. The performers gave a nuanced and captivating performance – I truly felt the audience disappear during the work, I was completely drawn in by the delicacy and rawness of the piece which tangled, separated and fused on the stage before me.

I always struggle writing reviews like these, for performances that truly blew me away, because it feels to be doing a disservice to the art to put it into words. What I felt while watching this duet was something higher than that which can be expressed in words, it is difficult to articulate the invisible. What I can say is that I have not been able to get this piece out of my mind, the images were gentle and yet this gentle, almost fragile quality is what seemed to pack the hardest punch. My (incredibly emotional) response to the work is a credit to the power of images; with no discernible narrative or ‘story’, more an evocation of a sensibility, a feeling, a memory, it is to the images of the work to make me feel something. And feel something I did.

Torus by Humanhood // 28.03.19

Torus, choreographed by Rudi Cole and Julia Robert Pares, employed a hypnotic and meditative choreographic language to delve deep into ideas of physics, energy and spirituality.

Upon entering the theatre I was compelled by the idea of a piece which explores the intersection between science and movement, however on hearing that the performance lasted for 70 minutes (with no interval!) I was slightly apprehensive. Dance is often challenging to watch, you have to decide to pay attention; there is rarely an explicit narrative or rhetoric in the piece to tell you what to think or feel, which is what makes dance such an interesting language, but also what makes it so tough after a long day, when you just want to pull sleep over you like a blanket. This piece, however, flashed by, the movement was almost hypnotic, different phrases in the piece bled into each other and the five performers moved around the stage as one body, with an energy reminiscent of Tai Chi.

The choreography was introspective and not overtly performative, it felt almost ritualistic and deeply spiritual. The choreography’s often improvisational aesthetic was mastered by the performers, their bodies melted across the space and into the ground, it was no doubt physically extremely demanding but the dancers made the movement look effortless, easy, like they were doing it just because it felt good. Connor Scott’s intermittent solos were particularly joyous, his understanding of the movement vocabulary and of his own body was staggering – he moved with a sense of groove and subtle joy.

The soundtrack was minimalist, percussive and worked directly with the dynamics of the movement – at times the movement was too repetitive to hold onto the audience’s attention, this is where the music and engaging lighting design (the choreographers described the lighting as breathing and alive) stepped in to keep us interested. This work may not be ideal for those with a short attention span, it is like a visual meditation and so, in this way, does not enforce attention – it is not very exciting, but this by no means makes the work less valid, Torus is proof that not every performance has to be exciting, or that maybe our common understanding of “exciting” needs to be evaluated. Does exciting have to mean showy and high energy? This performance makes me think not.

The Tragedy of Richard II by William Shakespeare // National Theatre 19/03/19

As I am studying this work for English Literature ‘A’ Level, I jumped on the opportunity to see this re-imagining of the lesser known Shakespeare play about power, morality and the kingdom. I was particularly excited when I saw that this work was being put on by the National Theatre, my expectations of interesting, risky and fresh choices were fulfilled, however, this production was half baked; it felt rushed, pretentious and ill-conceived.

The play (supposedly) centres around the fall of a king who makes rash and dubious decisions. Richard of Bordeaux is still relatively young – the suggestion potentially being that he is too young to be king – therefore, I was at first confused by the choice to cast Simon Russell Beale in the role. I decided, however, to go into the screening of the production with an open mind, hoping that Russell Beale would make me regret my apprehensions. His performance as Richard was energetic and compelling, he captured Richard’s whimsy which drew me in and he left me with a profound sense of loss at the end of the play. Although I didn’t leave the theatre feeling like I had been made to eat humble pie, Beale’s performance was very successful.

However, I couldn’t fully engage with the journey of the characters through the play because of the frankly irritating choices made by the director and the design team. Buckets of soil and blood were used brilliantly by the cast to create visceral and striking images, but these buckets were stuffily labelled “soil” and “blood” respectively, which served no purpose but to score points in the haughty theatre scene and to make the play ‘abstract’ – whatever that means. I tried to engage with these labels: maybe the director wants the piece to be more conceptual? Maybe it just adds to the aesthetic of the piece? However, as much as I tried to appreciate the choice I felt my eyes roll back into my head each time I looked to those buckets. To be fair, there were many parts of the production’s design which felt pretentious and jarring, not just the buckets! (I, unfortunately, do not mean jarring in the way the director intended – it just felt incongruous, but not so incongruous to have suggested that the director wanted to draw on this lack of order. If this was the intention then it did not go far enough – I felt the piece inhabited a grey area between grounded tradition and the absurd, which is a respectable choice, some of the best theatre comes from grey areas! But, in this case it felt like the production was still in development stages – maybe halfway through the rehearsal process with final performance still being far off – there was a profound lack of identity for the production.)

The action unfolded in a glorified metal box, this created some beautifully haunting images of blood splattered walls and waterlogged ground, however the distinct lack of setting inhibited the tragedy from reaching its full force; the audience were unable to follow Richard’s fall from a whole kingdom to a small jail cell. Although the stage was in disarray towards the end of the performance, Richard started in an empty metal box – so is there really a visual fall from grace? The aim of the metal stage was also to communicate the claustrophobia and chaos of the kingdom, however, the only claustrophobia I felt came from the realisation I had to sit through the rest of the play before I could get out of the theatre.

Bolingbroke, a character who is usually understood to be righteous, chivalrous and a competent political figure was played quite manically by Leo Bill, he was almost portrayed as child-like next to the magnificent and self-assured Richard. This choice is brave, and respectable, it was interesting to watch a different representation of a character who is otherwise weighed down by historical expectations of masculinity. However, again, this choice felt contrived and didn’t make sense with the events of the play, if Bolingbroke was so unsure of himself why did he return to pursue the crown? This question was left unanswered.

There were gorgeous images and ideas throughout, the gardeners physically burying Richard in soil and water was poetic and rich with symbolism. There were indeed moments of heartfelt tragedy, too, like in Richard’s final soliloquy and in Gaunt’s early death. The ensemble cast played their role competently, managing to switch between various roles through the production somewhat convincingly.

I hugely appreciate the effort to make Shakespeare more accessible and more appropriate for a modern audience by shortening the long play to a shortened experience of about one and a half hours. However, the abridged version of the script felt rather clumsy; perhaps this is because I know the full version of the play, but for me the omissions left missing a big part of what makes this tragedy so tear-jerking. Richard’s tragic arc was cut short and I couldn’t fully engage with the characters’ lives. There are only three female characters in the play, and this version saw two of these characters erased. I appreciated the somewhat gender neutral casting of the production, however the main roles, Richard, Bolingbroke, Gaunt, York, Aumerle and Northumberland were all played by men, so I felt that the female voice which is already grossly underrepresented in Shakespeare’s works was further underrepresented: to cut two of three female perspectives (especially given the hyper-masculine events of the play) was a detractor from this play, situated as it is within a canon which so distinctly lacks the female voice.

Velvet Petal by Scottish Dance Theatre // 16/03/19

Punk, youthful, joyous: Fleur Darkin’s investigation into the photographic works of Robert Mapplethorpe, identity and the bedroom is euphoric.

With deliciously grungy lighting and set design, a fresh and interesting movement vocabulary executed brilliantly by SDT’s cast of dancers and a punky soundtrack, Darkin’s work is captivating, and speaks directly to the youth of today. The piece seemed joyous to dance and was equally joyous to watch, the images created (often taking direct inspiration from Mapplethorpe’s Polaroid works) and feelings evoked between performers were visceral, emotive and human. There were moments of intense sexuality between performers and yet the audience were included throughout, the choice to have all performers on stage at all times functioned to normalise our presence in the scene; we were an extension of the stage, the bedroom.

The costume (and design more generally) was effortlessly cool, and captured the coming-of-age searching for an identity and sense of self, it was a joy to see costume design used deliberately to queer the space – the piece felt ungendered and yet made a profound comment on this lack of gender. The design, choreography and writing captures the ever changing identity of a young artist, “It’s about people metamorphosing”, in the words of Fleur Darkin. In this way the piece inhabits a sort of grey area in which the audience could lose themselves.

Velvet Petal was vibrant, expressive and liberating – it was poetry in movement.

Romeo and Juliet by the RSC // Theatre Royal 06.02.19

The RSC presents their most recent venture – a fresh and youthful adaptation of Shakespeare’s most famous love story: Romeo and Juliet. Directed by Erica Whyman.

As I walked into the theatre I was pondering why Shakespeare’s works speak so widely and with such strength, why Shakespeare is taught in every school nationwide, and why, over 400 years after his death, his plays are still being put on. The answer to these questions was made clear through this exciting and dynamic production of Shakespeare’s fateful tale of two star-crossed lovers.

Shakespeare seemed to look into the future when writing this play – (this adaptation of) Romeo and Juliet speaks directly to a contemporary audience, exploring a voiceless youth, knife crime and sexuality (Benvolio’s suggested love for Romeo was brought to the forefront of his character through Josh Finan’s delicate and endearing portrayal of the character) all through the heart-wrenchingly tragic journey of Romeo and Juliet and their rival houses. The gender-fluid casting of this production spoke directly to a modern audience, it was the most stark way in which this production differed from other Shakespeare productions I have seen, and though these casting choices could have felt contrived, they absolutely worked. Thinking of Charlotte Josephine’s portrayal of a rowdy and laddish Mercutio brings a grin to my face, her performance was dynamic and joyful, equally as brilliant, Beth Cordingly’s characterisation of Escalus was strong and authoritative, these choices to queer the stage absolutely paid off. Mercutio and Escalus as women added another layer of identity for the characters, Josephine spoke in the post-show discussion of relating with Mercutio’s feelings of being up against life, she spoke of how these roles were not made for a) women and b) people of her class, and how this played into her realisation of the character. Whyman also talked of disregarding gender in the casting, saying that it is important to note she did not decide to cast a woman: she decided to cast Charlotte, and this decision payed off handsomely.

The costume felt modern, real and fresh, which continued to hammer home Whyman’s aim to speak to a modern audience. The set design by Tom Piper was minimalist and served its purpose to facilitate the vigorous action taking place across the stage, it was almost industrial, the contrast of the heavy metal set and the buoyant exchanges between Romeo and Juliet emphasised how unlikely this romance was, which stemmed from such toxicity and violence.

Some exchanges in the performance fell flat, particularly the brawl scenes which attempted, rightfully so, to speak of a realistic, pressing, dangerous idea of knife crime but instead came across rehearsed, sanitised and distinctly lacking in a sense of risk and emergency. If the brawl scenes lacked excitement and force, Juliet’s suicide scene lacked in tear-jerking tragedy. I wanted to be broken when I left the theatre, but again the scene lacked passion, I didn’t feel her unyielding desire to be with Romeo eternally and I didn’t feel the heartbreak Juliet (was meant to have) felt. However, though they were slightly disappointing, I wasn’t thinking of these moments when I left the theatre, I was thinking of how immediate and palpable this interpretation of Shakespeare’s masterpiece was, and how the RSC entirely won me over with such a modern take on a such a classic tragedy.

And so my questions were answered: if directed in the right way, Shakespeare’s plays speak universally of humantiy, love, violence, loss, pain, desire, family and politics. Shakespeare’s works are not concerned with the hero or the villain, but with the complexity of human nature. This gender-fluid tragedy spoke to a modern audience, and spoke resolutely.

Kindertransport by Diane Samuels // People’s Theatre 28/01/19

“What I want is irrelevant. This is your life.”

Kindertransport’s delicate tragedy seems tailor-made for this year’s Holocaust Memorial theme: ‘Torn From Home’. Motherhood, identity, memory and home, Kindertransport by Diane Samuels sensitively explores the journey of Eva, who at the beginning of the play is just 10 years old, from Germany to Britain before the start of World War 2. Eva would have been one of ten thousand, mainly Jewish, children who fled Germany to escape the threat of the Nazis. The play posed many questions dealing with issues of humanity, “Where is home?” “How do mothers make decisions?” “Who is family?”, rather than force a political rhetoric, which was refreshing to see amongst polarising politics beyond the stage door.

The production was in the intimate foyer space of the People’s Theatre which made the play even more harrowing. Seeing the breakdown of the family home, severed by the Nazi regime, at touching-distance made the story feel even more immediate and pressing. The design was simple, with everyday wear for those in the modern-day scenes, and convincing period costume for those in the scenes depicting the war years: it clearly communicated the timeline of the play, whilst still adding an extra layer of identity for each of the characters. The set was beautifully simple, with distressed boxes and crates which transported the audience to a cluttered, dusty attic. There were two sides of the stage, the left side for the war years and the right side for modern day. Although this was a sound idea, it seemed to limit the actors; the space was small as it was, so when halved again I felt the actors didn’t have ample space to really feel the scene with their full bodies.

The direction was extremely orthodox, it did not risk delving into the abstract and remained extremely natural throughout. I found the direction to be quite monotonous and at times the naturalism wasn’t quite achieved, with moments of powerful and nuanced emotion being glossed over with learned clichés. I felt sometimes as if I could see the annotations made on the director’s copy of the script through the acting: “move here on this line”, “lift this arm on this line”, the difficult task of taking a script and making it appear unscripted wasn’t quite achieved. The intimate set and layout of the seating which so effectively created a feeling of really being in this world with the characters was, at times, diminished by acting and directing choices that I just didn’t believe and therefore couldn’t fully engage in. Though gorgeous writing and design, the play’s execution by the cast did leave more to be desired.

However, one gorgeous moment which was particularly tear-jerking was Eva’s biological mother attempting to convince her daughter to come and live with her and her biological family in New York. It would have been the easy, obvious choice for the character of Helga (played by Caroline Boobis) to break down and cry over her daughter’s new English identity as Evelyn, however she just looked at her daughter, with her eyes glazed over, and it is moments like these which make me love theatre; something invisible, higher than what I can articulate in a blog post happened in that moment, in her eyes I saw the pain, the betrayal, the regret, the guilt, the grief, the anger, the exhaustion. Seated only three ft away from this incredibly personal, heart-wrenching scene I felt both intrusive and involved, the energy was both stifling and cathartic.

Overall, watching this brilliantly crafted piece of writing on Holocaust Memorial day was extremely important and enjoyable. The acting absolutely left something to be desired, with some lines being fluffed (one even having to be prompted by a member of the crew in the audience), and many moments being executed, well, just plain badly. However, it would be a shame to focus on this on a night which was about more than the acting, the lines, the set. This night at People’s Theatre was what theatre should be about, it was a night of geniously crafted storytelling, and the importance of the story told cannot be overstated.

 

The Comedy About a Bank Robbery by Mischief Theatre // 23.01.19

Mischief Theatre presents their third major work since the birth of their collective, first “Peter Pan Goes Wrong” and “The Play That Goes Wrong”, now the company brings us “The Comedy About a Bank Robbery” and their newest production does not disappoint!

The script was intelligently written in their signature farcical style, employing witty word play and hilarious pun (though it sometimes became dangerously dad joke-esque, which seemed to entertain the older members of the audience but perhaps didn’t work so well for me and my peers) to deliver the journey of the ‘crooks’ of Minneapolis from pick-pocketing to grand theft. The production was brought to life by the design team incredibly, too; the vision of this ridiculous production was taken from page to stage seamlessly, with a deliciously malleable set which had my eyes popping out of my head. This play had everything one could possibly crave from a farce: incredible set and props, intelligent writing and, most importantly, hilarious acting.

The play began with a comical scene inside a prison cell and in the first few minutes I got an impression of what the 2 hour production would feel like: generally very funny, but with some moments which felt laboured and repetitious. This sentiment is similar to the one I felt after “The Play That Goes Wrong” – a brilliant idea and well executed, but sometimes tiresome and somewhat predictable. That being said, I was certainly more impressed by this production than “The Play That Goes Wrong”; I was lured in by the great design and characterisation, I then stayed for the genius writing and engaging story.

The most interesting moments of the performance weren’t the obvious moments of comedy and belly-laughing, but were the moments where strong design and skilful acting worked together, with a backbone of comedy running through the partnership. From cars made of laundry bags on wheels to seagulls on sticks to guitars which are also phone stands, the design characterised the production as gloriously ridiculous (something we all, at these times of political turbulence need a bit more of!). The production was like a child’s whimsical mind and imagination, facilitated by a huge budget, executed by a razor-sharp cast. Essentially a dream to watch!

Although these moments were exciting and engaging to watch on stage, there were some dips in pace through the play, particularly towards the end of the first half. The first half felt like a stretched out set up for the action that unravelled in the second half. There were many off-target puns and jokes (like “Freeboys” being misheard as “three boys” which was mildly funny the first time, but very much not after the fifth or sixth recycling of the joke) throughout the play, and a spattering of awkward silences from the audience where a joke did not land. However, as is the nature of live comedy and performance, different audiences on different nights will have found different scenes and lines funny, and not all jokes can be lung-busting. These moments are mere specks on what was an incredibly well conceived night of hilarity, madness and dynamite.

Black Coffee by Agatha Christie // People’s Theatre 19/01/19

As tradition dictates, People’s Theatre once again started off their 2019 season with an Agatha Christie ‘whodunit’, this time, the first of Christie’s works for stage: Black Coffee.

Black Coffee sees the poisoning of Sir Claude, in pursuit of his new (extremely lucrative) scientific discovery, with all the classic Christie suspects in place: A financially troubled young man, a mysterious foreigner, an emotionally troubled young woman and an intelligent assistant. Will this be the opportunity for the young man, Richard, to get out of his debt? Is this the chance for the intelligent assistant to displace her boss? What is the mysterious foreigner, Carelli, doing here? Why is the young woman, Lucia, so troubled? The audience are promised twists and turns as all of these strings are untangled by Poirot’s “little grey cells”.

After seeing a lacklustre production of The Mousetrap in London, the most famous of Christie’s plays, I was reluctant to get tickets for Black Coffee, however, when entering the theatre the buzz of the other audience members filled me with optimism; everyone was quite ready for a night of escapism from Brexit negotiations and melancholy politics. On entering I was met with a beautiful set of (yes, again) a cluedo-esque room of an old manor house, equipped with a burning fireplace and period furniture. The hair and costume design was equally great, especially for the women of the cast – it immediately transported the audience to the inter-war years of Britain. My optimism reinforced by the design and initial moments of performance was quickly dampened by the realisation: this is just another Christie. Change some details of the plot and you will arrive at The Mousetrap or The Murder of Roger Ackroyd.

The audience were teased – or rather, at times, dragged around – by Christie and Poirot alike. In the first quarter of the performance I was watching intently, regarding every little detail as a precious clue, however, as the performance trailed on I found myself saying “I just do not care”. I was kept going by the performance and characterisation from the cast, being particularly impressed with Jake Wilson Craw’s depiction of Poirot, finessed with a quirky, endearing walk and eccentric speech and gesture (I was able to forgive his sometimes dubious French accent in knowledge that the rest of Poirot’s image was captured perfectly). I also enjoyed the peppered moments of humour: Caroline’s nattering, Barbara’s flirtation with Hastings and Poirot’s amusing condescension of all other characters on stage. However, many of these moments did not land, with comedic moments being rushed over and comedic timing at times being more jarring than amusing.

The most interesting moments of the piece were Christie’s (mild) comments on Xenophobia and against the judgement of foreigners, however the claim from the director of this play to be speaking of contemporary issues (Brexit, racism, the rise of the right wing, immigration, attitudes to immigrants etc.) is a reach – this play, unfortunately, was created as entertainment and not much more, for the eyes of a middle class audience. This is, after all, what Christie knew and stuck to.

Generally, the performances from each character were engaging and interesting to watch, despite frequent dips in pace which could’ve been ameliorated through slicker, more pacy transitions, to really immerse us in how immediate this murder was for everyone in the house. Through no fault of the actors or director, the performance dragged on – I felt I was unable to lose myself in this world because of Christie’s superficial and one-dimensional depiction of each character. I didn’t care about who murdered Sir Claude because I didn’t care about Sir Claude, or any of the characters for that matter.

In all, Black Coffee at People’s Theatre was a very well realised performance of Christie’s first play, it was a fun night to the theatre which could be enjoyed with friends and family. However, this play failed to change my opinion on Christie’s work and style being lethargic and overrated. Despite great performances from all of the cast, like a black coffee Agatha Christie’s first play left a slightly bitter taste in my mouth.