Category Archives: 10/10

An Hour And A Half Late – October 2006

Experience: 10/10

By Gerard Sibleyras with Jean Dell, adapted by Mel Smith

Directed by Tamara Harvey

Theatre Royal Bath Productions

Venue: Yvonne Arnaud Theatre

Date: Thursday 19th October 2006

          Adapted by and starring Mel Smith, that’s mouth-watering enough as it is. Also with Belinda Lang, even better. And then add a superb relationship comedy. What more could we have wanted?

Nothing really. There was so much humour in this that I can’t possibly cover it all, so just (some of) the highlights. There was lot of laughter for the wife’s first three entrances. The husband is obviously waiting for her to finish getting ready, and she appears first in one top, then goes back into the bedroom, appearing a few moments later in another top, then goes off to another room, re-enters the bedroom, and comes back out in ….. the first top again! All of this was accompanied by Mel Smith’s wonderful expressions.

The wife wants to talk. She’s feeling old and useless, not helped by her husband’s lack of sympathy. He wants to get to an important celebration dinner being hosted by the man who’s buying him out of his business, thereby making him very rich. He’s also the man the husband’s worked with for twenty years, so it made sense at the time for the husband to tell his colleague about his wife’s unfaithfulness. The unfaithfulness, she now admits, which was a lie, designed to give their flagging marriage a boost. It succeeded, but now the husband is shocked to find out his wife hasn’t slept with another man, and she’s shocked to find out he told his colleague she had! (Apparently it helped the colleague’s sex life in his marriage.)

It’s a lovely comedy that points up the differences in approach and attitude between men and women. At one point she’s disheartened to realise she’s now a granny. His thought is that it’ll be his first time with a granny. When he complains about her obsessive tidiness, she tells him to spill his drink, and, reluctantly, he does. This triggers a mad session of hurling food, objet d’art and pot plants about the place. It’s a very stylish flat they live in, by the way, which makes it even more fun. Afterwards, they consider ways to restore their sex life, and he comes up with the squeaky floorboard idea – they’ll sleep in separate bedrooms, now their last child has flown the nest, and prowl to each other’s rooms, making the floorboards squeak as they go to heighten the anticipation. This is a very funny scene, as they try out all the squeaky floorboards they can find.

Eventually, this all calms down, and the wife is in a much better mood. She disappears off upstairs, and this time she reappears in her little black number, dolled up to the nines, and ready to go to the celebration dinner, an hour and a half late!

I can’t convey all the wonderful humour that was in this production. Much of it is in the performance, of course, but there were many great lines, and the overall construction was great. It’s been well adapted – although the ‘Frenchness’ of the play was still discernible, it worked well in a contemporary London setting. I will definitely see this play again when I get the chance.

© 2006 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Frost/Nixon – October 2006

Experience: 10/10

By Peter Morgan

Directed by Michael Grandage

Venue: Donmar Theatre

Date: Thursday 5th October 2006

This was an excellent play brilliantly performed. There was a remarkable degree of dramatic tension, even though the outcome is already well known. I hadn’t known about the events leading up to the interviews, so there was a lot to learn. This is a dramatised account, of course, so you have to make allowance for artistic licence, but even so this was a great piece of theatre.

The Donmar is so small, there’s rarely much to the sets. A 6×6 bank of TVs on the back wall gave us any documentary footage or close-ups as needed, otherwise it was just chairs, desks, etc being brought on as required. We saw the development of the idea to interview Nixon, and some of the difficulties that had to be overcome, for example Nixon wanted a significant amount of money to do the interview, which David Frost apparently paid out of his own pocket. Nixon’s focus on the money side, obsession almost, was very clearly demonstrated. His abilities as a politician were also evident, and it was clear that the interviews were not going Frost’s way until the final session. Extra information had come to light, or rather been spotted by one of his researchers, which allowed Frost to combat Nixon effectively over Watergate. We could see the former president crumple before our eyes (and on the big screen as well). It was very powerful, and felt as if we were actually watching the real event unfold before us.

The differences of opinion between the Americans and Brits were also news to me, and added to the build-up of tension. There was also plenty of humour to help the two hours along. The two central performances were stunning. Michael Sheen was totally believable as David Frost, and caught his mannerisms to perfection. (He even appeared on Bremner, Bird and Fortune recently doing his David Frost as part of a sketch – pretty impressive.) Frank Langella wasn’t as jowly as Richard Nixon, but he conveyed the powerful presence of the man very well, and his delivery was excellent. All the support cast was good, and I hope this gets the transfer it deserves so more people can see it (and we might even sneak in a repeat performance ourselves).

© 2006 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

The Life Of Galileo – October 2006

Experience: 10/10

By Bertolt Brecht, in a version by David Hare

Directed by Howard Davies

Venue: Olivier Theatre

Date: Wednesday 4th October 2006

This was excellent. It was lovely to see Simon Russell Beale again. I’ve missed many of his performances, for various reasons, and it was good to see he’s still as talented as before. He commands the stage, taking full advantage of the scope this part gives him. Even when he shows us Galileo’s unkindness towards his daughter, we can at least understand some of his reasons. He’s not a monster so much as a man obsessed.

The play covers a range of issues, but the central conflict is between science and dogma. The portrayal of the Catholic Church is refreshingly neutral, with church officials ranging from extreme dogmatists to enlightened thinkers, and it was good to see the niceties of the Church’s concerns put across. It was OK to talk about the Earth going round the Sun as a hypothetical mathematical concept, so long as it was said in Latin so the ordinary folk couldn’t get wind of it. In other words, don’t rock the boat, or we’ll throw you overboard! The overweening concern of those in power to stay in power was clear, although they tried to justify it by pretending their concern was only for those poor people who would lose the will to face such difficult lives without their absolute faith in God, as propounded by the Church. There were some lovely nuances through the play – I particularly liked the subtle innuendo of the Cardinal inquisitor (Oliver Ford Davies – another excellent performance) as he worked on Galileo’s daughter to recruit her as a spy, via her confessor. Although he could just have been warning her that anything they did would get back to him, so watch your step.

There were plenty of characters representing concerned friends, who wanted to support Galileo’s work, but who feared for his safety and that of his daughter, and others who supported him and wanted him to challenge the establishment and damn the consequences. Some of these were very disappointed, even angry, when they realised he had recanted his views, and I realised how much we human beings invest in our images of other people, how much we expect them to be perfect or heroic for us, rather than taking responsibility for our own lives and accepting others’ human frailties. I also saw how much we do this to God as well. So many people in this play saw no alternative to the Earth-centred, God created view of the world that would still allow God to exist as God. If not the still Earth at the centre, then chaos. Weird, given our greater knowledge now. Still, reason did not completely win out. The effects of Galileo’s choices left his daughter without a husband, so the human cost also had to be considered.

At one point I almost shouted out to contradict the Senior Cardinal, one of the pompous opponents of Galileo’s work. His view was that God would not have sent His only son to some little backwater of a planet on the edge of the universe. I felt like pointing out that He allowed His son to be born in a manger, so there! Obviously, this play got to me more than I realised, but I like that.

All the performances were excellent. The carnival scene reminded both of us of Cabaret, and I loved the astronomical images projected onto the back screen. The set was on a revolve, with the grid of an observatory dome at the back, not moving, three sets of French windows in bay formation at the front, or rotated to the back, and various doorways and walls with windows which could be moved around to form all sorts of acting spaces. Costumes were modern dress, and this worked well for me.

Some of the fun moments: Galileo is visited by a Dutch student looking for tuition, who tells him of the telescope people inHollandare using. Galileo grasps the idea immediately, sends out for some lenses, and pinches the idea in order to get a higher salary from the Venetians. The Dutch student’s main complaint is that he’s coloured the tube red. Then the fun begins. When the young Duke of Florence, Cosimo de Medici, comes to check out the telescope with his entourage, we get to see some of the ridiculous objections people had to Galileo’s discoveries. The mathematician objects to looking through the telescope, because logic dictates that if the agreed view of the solar system held that there were no objects orbiting bodies other than the Earth, then the telescope must be doing something wrong if it shows such things. The philosopher objected because he believed Aristotle to be correct, therefore the telescope must be wrong. (I’m getting the impression that far from being an important early scientist, Aristotle was a bit of a road block on the path to discovery.) When challenged to believe the evidence of his own eyes, he retorted that he did believe their evidence, when reading Aristotle! This nonsense was very entertaining, and although it has some echoes today, I found it more interesting as an indication of how far we’ve come since then.

We also get to see the robing of a Pope, Urban VIII. This is a long-winded business. The poor chap has to wear so many layers, presumably all representing something significant to Catholics at that time, that he wouldn’t be able to use a toilet easily. This is also the scene where the Cardinal Inquisitor requests permission to torture Galileo to get him to recant. Given Galileo’s squeamish nature, he reckons he only needs to show him the instruments of torture to do the trick, and the Pope agrees to that. The recantation scene itself was masterfully done. We see Galileo’s supporters waiting outside – his daughter, his housekeeper’s son, Andreas, whom Galileo introduced to science, the monk who ‘converted’ to Galileo’s views, and his lens-grinder. His daughter was praying for him, presumably so that he would recant. The others were bolstering their confidence by assuring each other that he wouldn’t. As the news broke, and the declaration is being read out, they crumble, none more so than Andreas, who rushes to attack Galileo when he appears. We actually see Galileo approaching first, through the windows, and he hesitates, obviously aware how his choice will have upset his friends. My thoughts about imposing expectations of heroism on others are above.

The masked ball was good, too. Again, the modern dress worked fine, and they were just skimpy masks rather than huge ones, but it got the effect across very well.

© 2006 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Cymbeline – September 2006

Experience: 10/10

By William Shakespeare (sort of)

Directed by Emma Rice

Company: Kneehigh

Venue: Swan Theatre

Date: Thursday 28th September 2006

Yee-ha! This was superb theatre, exciting, energetic, entertaining, and even told the story of Cymbeline clearly. I will go a long way to see this company again. (I’ll have to, as they’re based in Cornwall.) Steve had previously seen Kneehigh’s production of Tristan and Yseult, and suggested their style was a cross between Northern Broadsides and Shared Experience. I get his point, but the reality is so much better than that description.

The set was a metal cage, with lots of ways of opening the doors to create different spaces. The musicians were mostly on the upper level, though they came down to help Cloten serenade Imogen. The actors were everywhere – up, down, clambering here and there. Chairs, beds, mattresses, braziers and the like came on and off as needed – God knows where they kept all this stuff. At the top corners of the cage were two birds – an owl and a cockerel. At dawn, the cock crowed, and at sunset, the owl did what owls do. Both were animated, and very funny. There was also a deer puppet, for Pisanio to kill, and I still feel sad about that – it’s amazing how an obvious puppet, being moved by someone I can see, can engage me so much. We’ll come to the box, the ship and the seagulls in a bit.

Costumes were mostly 50s style for the dresses, and up-to-date for the parkas, tracksuit bottoms and t-shirts etc. The music was varied, from heavy rock to Latin American to melancholy flute – anything and everything. Beautiful. The theme of the play was dispossession, and reuniting people with those they have lost, including themselves. The dialogue was mostly invented, but some of the original remains.

They started with a rock music background, while hooded figures put pictures, flowers, a teddy bear, etc. on the front of the cage. They also pinned up sheets of cardboard on which they jointly sprayed the word REMEMBER. Then we had a musical interlude in which the main characters acted out the events prior to the play starting – Posthumus and Imogen in love, being discovered, Posthumus being banished, etc. Then Joan Puttock (no, she’s not in the original) arrived, and between her and Pisanio we got the back story. Joan has been out of the country for 20 years, and in between bouts of La Cucaracha, shows us her pictures of Spain, and her new hunk of a husband, who’s sadly run off with another woman. Fortunately for anyone who doesn’t know the plot, she learns from Pisanio that the king’s two sons were kidnapped 20 years ago, and haven’t been seen since, presumed dead. The queen died soon after of a broken heart, and the king remarried, to his nurse. Imogen fell in love with Posthumus, an orphan of unknown parentage brought up by the king in his household, but as the king now wants Imogen to marry Cloten, his new wife’s son, he’s banished Posthumus. Whew. I didn’t realise how complicated all this stuff was, but Joan helped us all out by going over the main points several times.

After this hugely entertaining introduction to the play, we see Imogen and Posthumus take a final leave of one another. The evil step-mother is supposedly helping them, and lets them have five minutes to say goodbye. They swap gifts – Imogen giving Posthumus her ring, and Posthumus gives her ….. his wristwatch, as he doesn’t seem to have anything else about his person. Posthumus tells her he’s going to …. Italy. They get a lot of humour out the choice of locations – he’s got the whole world to choose from, and he chooses …. Italy. (Later on, the choice of Milford Haven gets the same treatment, and bucketloads of laughs.) His ship arrives. It’s a small ship, with a hole in the middle, which two other actors put over his head – the straps then hold it in place. They then put a cap on his head that has seagulls dangling off it, and for the final touch, they flick some wires out of the boat, and there are fishes swimming around it! This was so funny to see. Even funnier was the way he then moved, in a stately fashion, across the stage, while Pisanio reported his going to Imogen, who was locked in an upper room. As Posthumus got to the edge of the stage, his cap was too tall to get under the roof, so he had to bend his knees a bit to get off – also hilarious.

Off to Italy, where the cage doors open to reveal the brothel which Posthumus is heading for. The ‘girls’ have a little frolic first, and the music is VERY LOUD! Their pimp is Iachimo, all Latin smarm, hairy chest and tight trousers. When Posthumus arrives, he refuses to have sex with any of the girls. Or any of the boys. Or any of the goats. He declares he loves a perfect woman. This upsets both the local tarts and Iachimo, who bets him two Ferraris and ten million lira to Imogen’s ring that he will get proof that Imogen is as naughty as the rest of them. I wanted to shout out to Posthumus not to take the bet (yes, I’d descended to that level) but I didn’t, and he did. Thinking the two Ferraris and the dosh were in the bag, he gives Iachimo a letter for Imogen.

At some point around here we see the Queen doping up the king, to a musical interlude. Another time, we also see her stripping down to her undies to serenade him and make it clear he’s her boy now.

Iachimo arrives in England, pushing a large box. It’s so heavy, he asks a member of the audience – a woman, naturally – to help him push it the last few feet. At least he gives her some chocolates for her trouble, plus his card, with the usual leer and ‘call me’. He meets Imogen, tries a quickie seduction, no luck. Seriously rebuffed. Unfortunately, she’s too good-natured to suspect him when he pretends it’s all a test of her virtue. Then he tells her he needs somewhere safe to store his box for the night. Only he doesn’t just tell her. Oh no. This is seduction by another means. With the box smack in the centre of the stage he starts to caress it and stroke it, like it was the most desirable woman in the world. Imogen, Pisanio, me, and at least half the audience were panting with desire after this. (What am I saying, during it, as well) This had the desired effect, and Imogen offered to store such a valuable box in her room overnight, as Iachimo plans to leave early the next day.

That night, as she’s snuggled down to sleep, the box opens, and Iachimo sneaks out. First he checks out her room, shining a flashlight round, so we can see what he’s spotted – the globe in particular. Then he has to get the wristwatch off her wrist. This was one of the funniest wristwatch removal sequences I could ever wish to see. Of course, she keeps moving to make it more difficult, and in the end he’s got her held upright on the bed, and is shaking her arm gently to get the watch to fall off, which it does. Then he lets her down gently, only to find she’s lying on the watch! Eventually he gets it, and finishes up by checking her out for identifying marks he can report back to Posthumus. He spots a mole or some such on her buttock, and is satisfied. So satisfied, he actually lights up a cigarette before disappearing back into the box. Evil bastard.

Next morning, the cock crows, Imogen wakes up, and is distraught to find the watch is missing. Cloten has brought the musicians along to help him serenade her, but she’s not remotely interested – she’s desperately searching her room for the missing watch. Cloten sticks his legs and arms through the grill of the cage, and then his head, only to find he can’t get it back out again once Imogen’s left. As he’s already pissed off the musicians, by telling them they were so lousy he’s not going to pay them (always a mistake, I feel), he’s left dangling there till Mummy comes to get him out (with the help of her ever-ready KY Jelly). She advises him to rape Imogen and presents him with a bottle of Rohypnol to assist. This he will later put in the Amaretto in Imogen’s suitcase, but I’m getting ahead of myself.

Back in Italy, Iachimo has won his bet; Posthumus is convinced by the ‘proof’, and in despair. He writes to Pisanio telling her to lure Imogen to Milford Haven and kill her in the woods there. He also writes to Imogen telling her he’s coming to Milford Haven, and asking her to meet him there. But how to get the letter to England? During the performance, there’s been a remote-control toy car whizzing around from time to time, and now it comes to Posthumus’ aid. As it arrives by his feet, he puts the letters in it, and it whizzes (a bit more carefully) round the stage, finally arriving at Pisanio’s feet. She picks up the letters and gives Imogen hers, pretending the other is from her own mother. She’s pretty shocked at being asked to kill Imogen, but goes along with it for now. Imogen is totally thrilled to be seeing Posthumus again. “He’s in Milford Haven”, she cries ecstatically, “Where’s Milford Haven?”, and rushes off to her globe to find it. This gets the biggest laugh of the evening. I’m sorry I can’t convey the way it was said, it was just so funny. She finds out it’s in Wales, and arranges immediately with Pisanio to head off, throwing her clothes over the metal wall for Pisanio to pack. As she heads off to sort out travel arrangements, Cloten pounces on Pisanio, and by threatening violence discovers their plan. This is where he puts the Rohypnol in the Amaretto, without Pisanio’s knowledge. He also decides to put on Posthumus’ clothes to rape Imogen, just to make her suffer even more. Like mother, like son, both evil bastards.

Imogen comes running back to say she’s thumbed a lift from a lorry driver (Gary?) who can take them as far as Birmingham, and off they go. In Italy, Iachimo and Pisanio are heading off to race the two Ferraris. Apparently Iachimo’s garage is located at the end of a long trek through the Swan auditorium (I suppose the RSC has to raise money any way it can), and at the same time Imogen and Pisanio are approaching Milford Haven, also on the outskirts of the Swan stage, meaning they have to trek through the auditorium as well. I may have missed the odd line as I whisked my feet out of the way of oncoming actors, but on the whole this is the kind of audience participation I enjoy. It’s fun being so close to the action. I remember Iachimo was telling Posthumus that you have to handle a Ferrari gently, like a woman, as they were passing us.

On arrival at Milford Haven, Pisanio tries to kill Imogen, but can’t, and confesses all. A beautiful little deer comes along just then, and Pisanio kills that (I still feel very sad), to send the heart to Posthumus. Imogen, needless to say, is distraught that her Posthumus should want her killed, and takes to the wilds of Milford Haven, with her bottle of Amaretto, and dresses like a boy in parka and trousers, calling herself Ian. She finds a squat somewhere and settles down to sleep, only to be disturbed by the folk who already live there – an older man and two younger ones. They take to Imogen and say she can stay with them. When there’s a disturbance, they go to check it out, and she stays behind, so nervous that she drinks some of the Amaretto to steady her nerves. Soon they’re so steady she falls asleep. Meanwhile, the boys have discovered Cloten swaggering about, and quite naturally bump him off, as you would. Finding the disguised Imogen apparently dead, they lay her body next to Cloten’s and surround them both with candles. Very pretty. I don’t remember now how they did Imogen waking up, or if that bit was dropped.

Back in Italy, the head of state has declared war on Britain. The despotic tyrant, who looks remarkably like Marcello Magni, had previously demanded that Cymbeline start sending tribute again, but thanks to the naughty queen, he’d been sent away with a flea in his ear. Now he wants war, and Posthumus and Iachimo sign up. I think Posthumus has received what he thinks is Imogen’s heart by now, so naturally he’s feeling remorse – bit bloody late now!

The appearance of Marcello Magni needs to be explained. They’ve taken some photos of him in various poses, and show them on a screen, while one of the actors stands behind putting their arms through to do the gestures. There’s also a tape of Marcello saying the lines. Very funny, and I suppose it allows for variations from night to night.

Anyway, Posthumus and Iachimo head back to Britain. This time, the boat has crows flying above it. To show the war, they bring out a giant game board, and use it to indicate who’s fighting who. We get a short scene with Posthumus, in prison, and seeing the vision of Jupiter and his parents, and then we’re off for the final reconciliations, as everybody turns out to be …. everybody who’s missing. Strangely enough, although we’ve seen Posthumus’ vision, and Joan Puttock turns up again to produce a key to open the box his (dead) parents give him, we don’t get the full unravelling of the mystery in this version. We just get the two sets of kids snuggling up in bed, Cymbeline’s sons in one, Imogen and Posthumus in the other. Kind of sweet, but a little disappointing.

Not that disappointing, though, as this was still one of the best things I’ve seen this year, and I would happily see it again, given the chance.

© 2006 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Much Ado About Nothing – September 2006

Experience: 10/10

By William Shakespeare

Directed by Marianne Elliot

Venue: Swan Theatre

Date: Friday 8th September 2006

For the first half, I felt this was the best ever production of anything I’d ever seen, anywhere. I was going to revise my star ratings to give this eleven! Then the second half opened with Dogberry, and the soufflé collapsed. To be fair, this was one of the better Dogberry’s I’ve seen, so it didn’t collapse far, and I would still recommend everybody on the planet to see this production at least sixteen times before they die.

To start with, all the dialogue was delivered so clearly, and with such good understanding of what was being said, that I understood the play far better than I ever have before, and I got all of the jokes, which is no mean feat. The setting worked brilliantly. Pre-Castro Cuba, with lots of heat, bars and cigars, the air was steamy long before the lovers got going. We were entertained to some Latin-American music from the band before the start, and there was plenty more during the show as well.

I can’t possibly note up everything that happened, so here’s a jumble of thoughts and memories. Benedick as a moving pot plant – totally over the top and brilliantly done. We laughed so much at this, that the following eavesdropping scene, with Beatrice, felt a bit flatter, but Beatrice managed to go one better than Benedick and actually creep right up to the bench that Ursula was sitting on. Ursula even put her hand, accidentally, on Beatrice’s, and had to pretend not to notice. Before that, we had a slightly predictable joke when Beatrice moved next to the Vespa parked on stage, and naturally set off the horn. Little bit obvious, but still enjoyable. My favourite part was at the beginning of that scene, when Beatrice enters from the side, and runs along the front of row A to hide at the back, hopefully not treading on anyone’s toes.

Benedick winking at the Duke to get him to insist on Benedick revealing all about Claudio. Borachio’s interest in Hero, causing his jealousy and hence the assistance he gives to Don John. Borachio actually spends time with Hero, which we don’t see Claudio do till after the Duke’s done the deal.

The tempo eases down in the second half, partly because Dogberry is played at a slow pace, and partly because the story gets a lot darker. I realised that what brings Beatrice and Benedick together in this section is the seriousness of what happens to the people they care about – they’re not able to joke about this stuff, and so they’re able to express their truer feelings about each other as well. Once the problems are resolved, they’re back to sniping at each other again, but too late to deny their feelings.

The crunchy floor isn’t particularly noisy in this production – must be the soles of their shoes. Still sticks to everything, though.

Dogberry was OK, making him better than most I’ve seen. I even found some of his jokes funny. Verges we were already familiar with from a couple of seasons at Chichester, and I enjoyed what there was of the part. The watch were good, hiding out amongst the audience to overhear Borachio and Conrad, but on the whole I preferred the YPS watch – they made much more of them, although it was a shorter version.

The second half was more moving. I always feel for Hero in her suffering after the false accusation. This time, Margaret, realising what she’s been involved in, runs from the church, really upset. They made a lot of some pearls which Claudio gives Hero, and to my mind, Hero was just a bit too interested in them rather than the man. Not sure this is going to be a happy marriage for Claudio (but then, does he deserve one?)

Masks for the first ball – the Prince has a lion mask, Benedick a monkey, and Claudio a clown, all very appropriate.

One quibble about the scene with Benedick in his floral shirt – it’s clear he’s changed, and shaved his beard, so perhaps the Prince could have played it up as a bit more of a joke – there’s no ‘discovery’ of the changes, so no need to play it straight.

Wonderful use of a megaphone to bid Benedick “come in to supper”, especially as Beatrice is standing about a foot in front of him at the time. His reaction to this summons was wonderful too – his conviction that there’s a double meaning in her words was beautifully insane and another one of the many funny moments in this production.

© 2006 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

The French Lieutenant’s Woman – September 2006

Experience: 10/10

Adapted by Mark Healy from the novel by John Fowles

Directed by Kate Saxon

Venue: Yvonne Arnaud Theatre

Date: Friday 1st September 2006

This was an excellent performance of a marvellous production of a brilliant adaptation – there wasn’t a single flaw in the whole thing. Set design, lighting, and costumes were all superb. The whole cast were excellent, the members of the ensemble supported the leading players magnificently. I haven’t read the book, so I don’t know how well it’s been transferred to the stage, but I enjoyed this piece so much, it doesn’t matter.

The set was amazing. Designed by Libby Watson, it seemed very simple, yet had many layers and possibilities. Split between two levels, there were curved platforms, curved steps, and in the middle an office space with typewriter and books, cleverly stacked so they could be used to climb up or down between levels. There were metal pillars, as used for seaside architecture, holding up the platforms, and small areas of grass and rock blending in with the scenery. From the steps and upper level rose tall posts, like tree trunks, but with snatches of rope and net, so they could be masts or trees or part of some beach or harbour construction. All very evocative, and it all worked together, so the action could move from outside to inside in an instant.

The play opens with the author, as a character in the play, asking how does he begin? He talks us through the way various characters come and go in his mind, but he ignores most of them. The other actors, in costume, are roaming the stage at this point, as the characters who are trying to catch his attention, and they’re quite miffed he’s dismissing them so easily. However, one character attracts him – he doesn’t know who she is, and wants to find out more. He introduces the character representing himself – the actor comes on like a robot, smoothly enough but without personality, waiting to be ’activated‘. Then the author has to decide how they will meet, and this leads to the opening scene of the hero seeing the French lieutenant’s woman, Mrs Woodruff, on the end of the mole. From here, the author is quite involved in the action, as he has to decide on the characters’ names, stories, etc. As the hero is talking with his fiancée and her aunt, the aunt has to pause several times, waiting for the author to fill in the relevant name. All very entertaining.

From here the author moves back a bit, and the action develops very nicely, with just some narration. We see the repulsive Mrs Poultney profess to charitable inclinations (as long as they don’t inconvenience her too much), and end up employing Miss Woodruff as a secretary, or dogsbody if you prefer. Mrs Poultney is one of those women who has read too much of the Bible and believed it all, at least all the really nasty bits where people (other people, that is) are damned and punished for their sins. As unpleasant an old lady as you could wish not to meet. Fortunately, our heroine stands up to her, and she even stands up to the author! In the job interview with Mrs Poultney, the author has her make some explanation for leaving her previous job. She rounds on him, and tells him she would never say that. Her choice is to say nothing, and so the scene is replayed with her doing just that. A marvellous device, this; it adds so much to our understanding of her character and I assume it follows the book more closely than the film.

We follow the two main characters through their doomed love affair, with various changes being made on the fly by the author, and at least one more significant change made by Miss Woodruff herself – it’s her choice not to tell the hero about their baby. At one point, the author decides to involve himself more closely with the action, and takes on the role of Doctor Grogan himself. He tries out several accents for his opening line, rejects the first two, and finally settles on a mild Irish brogue. (At least, I think that’s what it was – I was never very good with accents.)

All of this was so well done that I fell in love with it. The dialogue was excellent – so often in a Dickens or Bronte or Austen adaptation, the dialogue seems so stilted. It may represent contemporaneous speech patterns more accurately, but it’s bloody awful to have to listen to for hours. This dialogue carried the sense of period beautifully, but also felt real, the sort of things real people would say in these situations. The hero was over wordy and a bit pompous – typical – and Mrs Woodruff was much more direct and blunt, even when lying. The other characters were well formed – Ernestina’s girlish enthusiasm and outspokenness, her aunt’s good sense and kindness, Mrs Poultney’s bitterness and vitriol, Doctor Grogan’s authority and Sam’s ambition – all of these came across clearly, and drove the action plausibly. The interval came after the hero has left Mrs Woodruff in the cabin, and she asks the author, will he return? The author’s answer – I don’t know, give me some time – leads us nicely into the break.

Apart from mentioning that it was fun to see the respectable aunt transformed into a brothel-keeper in one scene, I’m not sure if I can add anything more to this. I might read the book; it’s a good enough play to at least pique my interest in that. I would certainly see it again, if I get the chance, and I would love to get the play text. I was totally drawn into the lives portrayed, the characters mattered to me, and time flew by. It was a great night out, and I would have clapped for ten, if I could have.

© 2006 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

In Praise Of Love – June 2006

Experience: 10/10

By Terence Rattigan

Directed by Philip Wilson

Venue: Minerva Theatre

Date: Tuesday 27th June 2006

This was a superb production of a masterful play. Rattigan at his best. Four characters, three scenes/acts, one set, tightly scripted and brilliantly performed. A great evening.

It took me a while to get Suzanne Burden’s accent for Lydia – Estonian – but once I’d tuned in I was amazed at how well she carried it through all the emotional ups and downs the character goes through. I lost some other of the lines in the early stages, but not enough to give me any problems. How to relate my impressions of this play in detail without churning through the whole story? I reckon this is one play and performance that will live long in my memory, but no harm in giving it a helping hand.

The key for me was Michael Thomas’s performance as Sebastian. He was willing to play the appearance of a real bastard, and never mind the audience’s sympathy. Initially he seems uncaring towards his wife, Lydia, telling her not to bore people with her refugee stories, being completely absent-minded about what she’s doing, and expecting her to fetch and carry all the time, fixing this and that – a real chauvinist pig. He even forgets to turn up for a very important occasion for his son – the first TV screening of his first play, and has been carrying on an affair with another woman for some time. However, there are one or two clues, especially his response to his wife’s near-collapse at the end of the first act, rushing to support her up the stairs to bed. Turns out they’re both lying to each other, for the best possible reason – to protect the other from the horrible truth. Only a friend, Mark, who’s been in love with and loved by Lydia for over twenty years, can be told the truth, by both of them, although we don’t hear Sebastian’s version till the final act.

Surprisingly, after this description, there was a lot of humour in this play. I don’t know what else to add. Words fail me. Just go and see it again if you can.

© 2006 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

A Midsummer Night’s Dream – June 2006

Experience: 10/10

By William Shakespeare, with translations by the cast and others

Directed by Tim Supple

DASH Arts

Venue: Swan Theatre

Date: Friday 16th June 2006

Like the Othello, I ask “Where do I start?” Unlike the Othello, this was one of the most wonderful productions I have seen in many a year. Not better than my favourite Dream, but spectacular nonetheless.

What impressed me most was how well the play’s emotions came across. The play was performed in seven different languages – English, Gujarati, Bengali, Tamil, Hindi, Malayalam, and Marathi. The actors had been chosen at a massive audition festival in India; players with all sorts of backgrounds, including Indian folk theatre, contemporary acting, acrobatics, juggling, rope work, etc. came together to explore the play. Tim Supple, the director, chose the best actor for each part, and then basically used that actor’s main acting language for that character. Some spoke English, others almost exclusively another language, while some spoke several, and a few had to learn the English for some of their lines so that the story could be understood. In some cases, the most appropriate language was chosen, based on the sound. This helped to create the magical effect – so many rhythms, so much music in the performance. Again, some of the English lines took on a new emphasis with the different speech patterns.

The upshot was that I stopped trying to listen to the words so much – after all, I know this play pretty well, as did most of the audience. Instead, I could concentrate on watching the actors express the characters’ thoughts and emotions. I felt so liberated. Also, these actors seemed to project more emotion than I’m used to seeing on the stage. Maybe it’s the different culture (we Brits tend to be so buttoned up), and maybe it’s because they also had to deal with languages they didn’t understand. And from the post-show talk, I gather that it was a deliberate choice to beef up the violence and sex in the play. Anyway, I enjoyed the emotional ride enormously, and the cast thoroughly deserved their standing ovation at the end.

The stage seemed simple at the start, but evolved as time went on. At the back were sheets of white paper, with a door bottom right, and a platform projecting out from the back wall about eight feet up and about ten feet long, also covered in white paper. The floor was covered in red earth over which lay a silk sheet. At the front of the stage were two pools, on either side of a covered sculpture, and in front of these was a sand pit. The musicians were located in both side balconies.

At the start, Puck/Philostrate enters, grinning broadly, which he does throughout the performance. Taking in the audience, he walks to the front, removes the cover from the sculpture and reveals a stone block, smooth and shining, with parallel slices cut through it. Stepping over it, he squats down in the sandpit and cups water from each pool over the stone. Then he begins to stroke it rhythmically, and almost magically, it starts to sing – a beautiful note. At this, Theseus and Hippolyta enter to start the play proper.

Although Theseus mainly speaks in non-English tongues, the opening lines are in English, and it’s clear Hippolyta isn’t happy. And this is no slightly miffed English ice-Amazon, either – this one could throw things – a spear, perhaps, or at least a few plates. Fortunately, or perhaps not, Egeus arrives with his wayward daughter and two young men in tow. Didn’t understand a word, didn’t need to. A pretty little casket obviously held the trinkets Lysander had been “bribing” Hermia with, and the airs of dejection and defiance clearly delineated the two suitors. One lovely line was retained in the English – “You have her father’s love, Demetrius; Let me have Hermia’s: do you marry him.” Hermia spoke throughout in English, as did all the women, and Theseus explained her predicament in English – Hippolyta was even less happy. For a moment it looked like Hermia and Lysander weren’t going to be left alone at the end of the scene, but Theseus commands Egeus and Demetrius away, leaving them to converse, in English, about their plight. They make the usual arrangements, tell all to Helena (always a mistake, I feel), and then the play really hots up.

As Helena is leaving to blab to Demetrius, she is startled by Philostrate lurking by the door. Once she leaves, he removes the silk sheet to reveal the beaten earth, and with a tremendous ripping sound, the fairies arrive, thrusting and tearing their way through the paper sheets. The sheets were attached to wooden scaffolding, allowing the fairies to climb, swing, and slip away furtively, anything they want to do, in fact. Marvellous. Enter Puck (Philostrate without his robe, therefore pretty much naked except for a bright red loincloth – daring, but he had the figure to carry it off) and several other fairies, led by a young lady who carries much of the scene’s early dialogue. I particularly liked the way the long speeches about who the fairies think Puck is, are shared out amongst the four who turn out to be Titania’s main attendants. That way it wasn’t so boring. And Puck’s reply, equally as long, is spoken in Hindi, with much teasing and mock fighting with his stage audience – another relief from boredom. These fairies are definitely not to be messed with.

Enter Oberon and Titania (doubled with Theseus and Hippolyta), and they really have a go at each other. Rolling around in the dirt, it’s hard to tell if they’re having sex or fighting – very physical and much stronger than the usual distant sniping. These two have history. This scene was helped by the inclusion in the company of a nine-year-old boy from an acrobatic family, used to climbing, rope-work, etc. How they were able to have him on stage for so long I don’t know, but he was present a lot of the time with Titania, and later, Oberon, and made the cause of the quarrel very apparent – the Indian boy. At the end, a mad scramble away through the scaffolding and the fairies have disappeared, leaving Theseus to request the special little herb from his own personal messenger service, Puck. And then the lovers arrive.

For once, Helena and Demetrius look like they’ve been through hell already. Clothes torn, wild-eyed, Demetrius waves a nasty looking blade around while telling Helena to get lost. He really will kill Lysander given half a chance. And this wood is a really scary place. At the post-show, we were told the Indian performances had been conducted in the open air, with the cast having to contend with, amongst other things, jackals and bandits! This gave them and us a real sense of the forest being a very dangerous place.

The flower Puck brings is a lovely one, with several large blooms. In the centre of each one is a small red ball; crushed, it provides Theseus and Puck with red powder, which they smear over the eyes of those they put the spell on. Very effective, and the powder stays on for quite a while, being wiped off when the spell is removed, so it’s a clear reminder of what those naughty fairies have been up to. Anyway, Oberon’s off to punish Titania, and Puck’s off to sort out the “Athenian youth” – what could possibly go wrong?

Believe it or not, we don’t see the mechanicals until now. These are the hard-working men of Athens, gathering to arrange their performance for the marriage. Tom Snout, the tinker, carries a long pole with all the community’s spare cooking pans attached – this man would not sneak up on you unnoticed! When the clattering finally dies down, and the laughter, Quince gets on with it. Bottom was a lovely chap, Joy Fernandes, built like Tony Hancock but with a cheerful disposition. Flute, a tall, gangly youth, is not happy to be lumbered with the lady’s part. The others, older and wiser, are happy to settle for what they can get. A short scene, this, especially with the beards shaved off.

As Titania enters, we have another example of how Puck/Philostrate is orchestrating things. While the mechanicals leave, various ropes and ribbons are lowered to the stage, with Puck, still grinning, releasing them all from their guide ropes. By the time the fairies are ready to sing Titania to sleep, they all have ropes to climb up and dance with. Titania herself makes a cosy nest out of two long red ribbons of cloth, and tucks herself up in it, pulling in the trailing cloth, closing the ribbons up like the bud of a flower. Her nest is then lifted up above the action, and she is beautifully concealed from prying eyes.

Some of the ropes are then removed, but there are more ribbons available for Hermia and Lysander to knot together and rest on. Again, it almost looks like Lysander is going to ignore maidenly modesty, but Hermia’s no pushover, and he backs off. All the rest unfolds as usual, and off everyone goes.

So then Puck and the other company fairies (not the queen’s supporters as such), take away the ropes and bring on the scenery for the mechanicals rehearsal. It was a lovely idea, to have these fairies standing around, holding up various items – banana leaves, wattle screens, etc. – and watching the developing events with amazement and great humour. Worth mentioning was Flute’s totally disenchanted rendition of Thisbe’s lines – no feeling whatsoever, this actor just wanted to be off stage as quickly as possible. Also, no use of “Ninny’s tomb” – possibly doesn’t work so well when there are so many accents and languages being used.

No holds barred in this production so far, so it comes as no surprise that Bottom’s ass’s accoutrements are not only prominent, but completed by a largish gourd hanging from his waist. Nice touch. Exeunt mechanicals, awaken Titania, etc.

The lovers are next up, and with Demetrius’ eyes smeared red as well, both men now pursue Helena. At this point, I found Puck’s interventions a bit distracting. He set up some poles round the outside of the stage, and then started winding elastic rope around and between them, creating a cat’s cradle through which the lovers interacted. This represented very well the difficulties the lovers are dealing with – the dense forest, people holding one another back – but I found it hard to block Puck out of the picture, as this is only a small stage. It might have been OK if there were only a couple of rolls of elastic, but he got through four of them! It took the whole scene to unravel them (and it’s a long scene), and by then I’d lost track of the lovers altogether. A shame, because I’m sure they were performing valiantly through the elastic. With the stage so snarled up, there was nothing else for it but to have the interval here, so Puck leads the lovers into the scaffolding, and leaves them all asleep, removing the red dust from Lysander’s eyes. Ah.

The next scene is the removal of the spell from Titania. This was beautifully done. She and Bottom are sprawled in the ribbon nest, and Oberon, who has been observing from the platform, does some rope work to come down to earth, while the Indian boy follows part way. Oberon cleans Titania up, and she awakens, horrified at what she sees. Bottom is moved to the back of the stage, lying down, and Puck removes his ‘appendages’.

Now at this point, Titania and Oberon leave the stage, and Theseus and Hippolyta enter. Normally, when doubling occurs, Bottom’s awakening gives the poor actors a bit of time to make the changeover. Not here. Both actors stay on stage, and the fairy attendants bring on their outer robes, which are all that distinguish the characters, and dress them there and then. Another beautiful element in the production – to have the faith that the audience can handle it and will go along with it, which of course we did, most happily.

After Bottom’s recovery, and reunion with the rest of his troupe, Philostrate sets up the cushioned areas for the aristocrats to sit and watch the evening’s entertainment. These final scenes are mostly in English; I gather it was difficult to translate, and we would have missed a lot of the jokes.

The Pyramus and Thisbe was very enjoyable. Wall was literally covered in plaster, and carried a pipe across his shoulders, to represent the chink in the wall the lovers talked through. The blood was represented by red cloth, and the whole scene was amusing. It was followed by the bergomask – given the emphasis on movement and dance in this production, this was a lively affair. The drummer was on stage throughout the play and dance.

Finally, the whole cast was on stage for the house blessing, moving slowly and rhythmically, forwards and backwards. Again, beautiful, and hypnotic. With Puck’s prologue rounding it off, still with that mischievous grin, we were completely satisfied, and the ovation was just wonderful. It was an honour to be present there that night, and experience that performance. They deserved all the applause and more.

Post-show: As if the performance wasn’t enough, these amazing people came back a short while later to do a post-show discussion. Tim Supple, the director, was there, too. It was lovely to see how the cast interacted. They developed into two groups, with a few actors acting as translators for the rest. They spoke about the rehearsal process, which challenged them all to explore new areas and built a great sense of trust in the company. There were several translations ready prepared when they arrived, and the dialogue evolved in the course of rehearsals, as languages were tried and changed and refined. The lovely singing when Titania is being serenaded to sleep, started out as “You spotted snakes” etc., and then evolved into a glorious lullaby in whatever language gave it the right rhythm and feel. Puck (Ajay Kumar), still grinning, told us via translation how he had no previous experience of Shakespeare, and was really pleased to find it so enjoyable to do. He had to learn the English for a lot of his part, and also contributed to the translation of the Hindi lines – all the translations were adjusted as they went along. When asked how the cast had worked together with so many different languages, Tim pointed out that we could see the process in action, as two actors translated for the rest of the company – there was a lovely ripple effect as jokes were translated back and forth during the discussion.

More was said that I don’t remember, I just enjoyed so much being there while the happiness generated by the performance permeated everything. A real blessing.

© 2006 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Hamlet – April 2006

10/10

By: William Shakespeare

Directed by: Janet Suzman

Venue: Swan Theatre

Date: Saturday 29th April 2006

This was a brilliant production. All credit to the cast, who had to overcome the recent killing of one of their number on Easter Saturday. They honoured his memory by putting on one of the best performances of Hamlet I have ever seen, and I would willingly see it again.

It took me a little time to get used to some of the accents, but after a while I found it helped my appreciation of the play. Different speech rhythms brought out some aspects of the lines I hadn’t heard before, and although other lines were occasionally lost, overall it led to a richer understanding of the text.

The play was edited in some interesting ways I hadn’t seen before. All the “removing” in the post-ghost scene was itself removed, making for more sensible action. Other cuts were very smooth and I didn’t feel I was missing anything important.

The actors were excellent. Apart from Claudius, who never seemed to get beyond simply saying the lines, there was a wonderful richness and depth to each performance. Gertrude was a suitably doting mother, horrified at what she saw during Hamlet’s diatribe against her second marriage. Ophelia’s mad scenes are often embarrassing to watch; here they tore your heart into little pieces as the poor innocent girl fell apart from all the pressure she was under – we could feel the weight of it all as it carried her to the bottom of the river. Her relationship with Hamlet reminded me more of Romeo and Juliet, and I was never so desperate to see two young lovers overcome the parental obstacles and live happily ever after.

Hamlet himself was possibly the best I’ve seen. He conveyed a sense of youth, grieving, resentment at his lot, intelligence, fluidity, and potential kingliness which was remarkable. His reading of the lines in “to be or not to be”, listing all the difficulties of this world – “the proud man’s contumely”, etc – was the best I have ever heard; each item came across freshly and clearly, and I saw them in my mind’s eye as he spoke. Hamlet’s emotional journey was beautifully evoked, helped in no small measure by the tremendous support from the rest of the cast, especially Ophelia.

The staging was good, with a relatively bare stage most of the time. A ramp led down from the back of the stage to a raised dais, giving plenty of scope for ramparts and other spaces. The trapdoor was also well used. Furniture was brought on and off as required, but without distracting from the play. At the point when Hamlet spotted Claudius, Hamlet was on the upper balcony; he took some time to reach the ground floor, giving Claudius time to settle to his prayers, and Hamlet a chance to have second thoughts. Nicely done.

I also want to praise the players. They performed very well, and there was an unusual touch – the player king actually took on the role of the queen/duchess in the Murder of Gonzago – no doubt because the young lad who had played the female roles had obviously outgrown them! Something else to keep the regular playgoer alert and paying attention.

Not that they needed such tricks. There was a rapturous reception from the audience with three curtain calls required. I left the theatre elated and grateful that I’d been able to witness this production.

© 2006 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me