Category Archives: 6/10

Sleuth – April 2008

6/10

By Anthony Shaffer

Directed by Joe Harmston

Venue: Richmond Theatre

Date: Wednesday 30th April 2008

Steve and I have seen this before, so I was aware of the story, although I didn’t remember all the details. It was entertaining to see a cast of five listed in the program.

The set was the typical old house in the country, all wooden beams and nooks and crannies. The performances were excellent, as I would expect from actors of the calibre of Simon MacCorkindale and Michael Praed. Simon’s Andrew Wyke was suitably theatrical, but with enough menace when needed to create tension, and Michael’s Milo was believably the son of an Italian, well versed in Latin ideas of intrigue and vendetta.

If we had been seeing this first time around, I would probably have given it 8/10 for the standard of production and the performances. As we were no longer virgins, so to speak, it couldn’t grip us in quite the same way, hence the rating of 6/10.

© 2008 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Romeo And Juliet – April 2008

6/10

By William Shakespeare

Directed by Barry Rutter

Company: Northern Broadsides

Venue: Rose Theatre, Kingston

Date: Wednesday 23rd April 2008

It’s good to see Northern Broadsides down here in the south. I very much like their no-nonsense approach and deep faith in the text. Plus, of course, their willingness to give the audience a good time – that’s always welcome.

On the way up, Steve and I were speculating on which part Barry Rutter would have snaffled for himself. We were sure it would be either the Friar or Pops Capulet. Who knew he would opt for Romeo? (Only joking.) Capulet was his role this time, although he also gave us the prologue.

I must admit to nodding off a bit during the first half, between the ball and Mercutio’s fight with Tybalt. I found the production took a while to get going. I don’t know if it was the performance space or, as Steve suspected, the high proportion of school kids in the audience, but I didn’t feel as involved as I would normally expect in a Northern Broadsides production. Fortunately the second half worked better for me – I felt the audience had warmed up more, although Barry Rutter had to cool down some of the youngsters by stopping his opening line and redoing it once they settled down.

The overall style was typical Northern Broadsides. The set consisted of a paved square-ish area with a two-level raised platform on top of it. The first raised level acted as a step, but didn’t run all the way around the top level. This platform was set slightly to the right of centre, allowing space for a large set of stairs leading up to a balcony to the left of the stage. There was plenty of room around all this, and sometimes the actors had to walk quite a long way to get to the “stage”.

Music played an important part in this production, as usual. There were several instruments sitting beside the balcony, including a double bass, and we were treated to some lively stuff for the feast (clog dancing included), a lovely wedding song which counterpointed the dead body of Juliet, a short requiem for the funeral, and probably some other bits which I just don’t remember. We also got the altercation between the servants and the musicians after the discovery of Juliet’s body, which is a very rare scene to see.

The costumes were a mixture; 50s style, I’d guess, with some contemporary clothes thrown in. The only furniture I can remember was the bed, which came on during the interval, and was used later on as kind of shroud to remove Juliet’s body. Sadly this deft piece of stage work caused some titters from the less mature audience members. For the funeral, a pallet was brought on to sit in the hole left by the bed, and Juliet and Tybalt walked on, now dressed in black, to take their places in Capel’s monument. I felt that was very effective, and that continued when, after the requiem, the others went, leaving Paris and his servant in the perfect position to start the next scene.

As the bed was “on” from the start of the second half, we got to see Romeo and Juliet lying together in it, another cause for immaturity in the audience to show itself, but a touching moment for the rest of us. I thought it was well done, and helped to show the characters growing up. I also thought what a big step one’s first sexual experience can be, but how much there still is to learn after that.

I always like the clarity of these productions, and today was no exception. Friar Lawrence can seem a real busybody, interfering in two young lives and screwing them up right royally. Today I could see that he’s doing his best to help, and there’s even a chance it could work. When Romeo is banished, and it all seems to be going horribly wrong, the friar’s plan to get Juliet away from her family and the arranged marriage makes sense. She’d be dead, for all her family knew, so no one would be looking for her. The impact of the undelivered letter is all the greater because, but for that, the plan would have worked. Shame about the audience, but even so, the youngsters did seem to appreciate the performance at the end.

Post-show.

Chaired by Stephen Unwin, this was a talk about language in the theatre, and Barry gave us his views in his usual forthright manner.  He doesn’t go in for all the psychological stuff with Shakespeare – even Stanislavsky reckoned his method was only good for contemporary Russian writers, and recommended ignoring it for the likes of Shakespeare, Ibsen, Shaw, etc. For Barry, the text is the important thing, and Will had written his lines with a particular rhythm, to give the actors the key to their delivery. This is what he, and the company, try to bring out in their productions.

He talked a bit about how and why he set up Northern Broadsides. Basically, he wanted work, and decided the best way to do that was to employ himself. He thought the company would only last a short while, and now they’ve been going for years, and tour to even more places. The only place they can’t go to is London, some silliness to do with the Arts Council grant, I think. He’s a good talker is Barry, and there was lots more entertaining stuff, but that’s the main points, and enough for now.

© 2008 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Glaspell Shorts – April 2008

All three plays by Susan Glaspell

Venue: Orange Tree Theatre

Date: Thursday 17th April 2008

 

Trifles    7/10

Directed by Helen Leblique

The first play in this set of three was Trifles, which I would give a 7/10 rating. The set was a poor family’s kitchen – stove, dresser, table, sink with bucket, wooden chairs. Wind whistling. Three men and two women arrive at the house. Two of the men, the authority figures, hog the stove. They ask the other man to tell them what happened the previous day, and we hear how he found the wife acting strangely and the husband dead. Off they go to check for evidence, leaving the women to get some things for the wife, who’s now in jail. As they talk about the wife and sort through her things, with a great deal more kindness than the men, they discover an empty bird cage, then a dead bird, and realise what’s happened. They tacitly agree to hide the evidence, but there’s a tense moment when the county attorney is checking the stuff they intend to take to the wife. As he looks through the pile of quilting material, will he discover the box with the dead bird inside? It’s a play that rejoices in noticing, and showing, small details, and it was done very well.

The Outside     6/10

Directed by Svetlana Dimcovic

The second play was The Outside, a 6/10, though only just. Several shaped boards with straw grasses set the seaside theme. There were also a couple of ropes hanging down; one to the floor, the other halfway. A chair completed the set. There were the sounds of waves, seabirds calling, and then two seamen attempt to bring a dead body on stage. Their captain tries to revive him, but no luck. The first two men chat, and we find out this is an old life-saving station that’s been closed down and is now lived in by a strange woman who spends most of her time staring at the dunes. Her servant is an older woman who hardly says a word. As in the first play, the men set the scene, and then we see the two women talking. This bit is more Ibsen-like in the language and use of symbolism. Both women are dealing with loss, and somehow seeing the dead body has loosened the older woman’s tongue. She tries to persuade the younger woman to see the positive side of the tussle between the dunes and the woods, and possibly succeeds. It’s a strange debate, and I don’t claim to understand what the author is trying to do here. It certainly didn’t feel as complete as Trifles, although a theme of men not understanding what women experience is coming through loud and clear.

[Thinking about it afterwards, the older woman, Allie, is trying to get the younger one, Mrs Patrick, to accept her loss. Mrs Patrick’s husband is missing, having gone on a long sea voyage, so it’s not absolutely definite he’s dead but it is likely, while Allie’s husband has been drowned at sea. Allie doesn’t want Mrs Patrick to waste so much of her life as she did herself, but the debate drifts into symbolic territory which becomes a bit confusing.]

Suppressed Desires      8/10

Directed by Phoebe Barran

The third play, originally scheduled to be the second one performed, is Suppressed Desires, and a definite 8/10 hoot if ever there was one. The set consists of a sitting room with desk, phonograph, a table with breakfast things, and a settle. This was a comic look at the misguided passion some folk had for the new-fangled invention of psychoanalysis. Henrietta is addicted to it. Her husband Stephen is not so much against psychoanalysis as completely against his wife inflicting it on him. His temper is close to breaking point, and when his sister-in-law, Mabel, who’s visiting for a while, tells Henrietta the dream she had the night before, which Henrietta tries to twist into an expression of suppressed desire, he loses it completely. He heads out, but he’s actually going to see Dr X, whom Henrietta worships, to get himself analyzed. Mabel goes to the doctor, too, and the final scene, when both Stephen and Mabel confront Henrietta with the suppressed desires that the doctor has uncovered, is absolutely hilarious. It would be extremely apt to say that Henrietta’s chickens have come home to roost, and with a vengeance. Her only option is to renounce the religion of psychoanalysis, and live happily with her husband. Wonderful stuff.

The performances were all excellent, as is usual at this theatre. The three plays were an interesting introduction to Susan Glaspell’s writing, covering quite a range of styles. The first play was a clever piece of writing, getting across some subtle points very well. The characters were recognizable very quickly, and the situation was presented clearly at the start, giving plenty of time in an admittedly short play for the dialogue between the two women to gradually reveal what we needed to know – why the wife had killed her husband. Given the amount of time devoted to crime drama these days on TV, the description of the wife’s behaviour and the motivation for the murder all seemed spot on. For a character who doesn’t appear, she’s a strong presence in the play, as is her husband, though to a lesser extent. The growing understanding between the two women is also nicely developed, as the sheriff’s wife moves from supporting the strict legal code to actively suppressing relevant evidence.

The second play started off in similar vein, with the three men setting the scene. This time, though, the women were arguing about how to handle their grief. At least, that’s what it was about on the surface. They were talking a lot about “the outside”, and I didn’t quite get what that was meant to represent. Otherwise, the debate was between life-affirming and life-denying, the dunes swallowing the trees and the trees regrowing over the sand. At one point, the servant had her hands together, demonstrating this constantly evolving pattern, and as she countered the other woman’s argument by saying that the trees would grow through again, her lower fingers crept through like new shoots – a lovely detail, and one of the reasons I like such intimate spaces – I’m close enough to spot such things.

The problem I found with this play was that it was too short to really get its point across. In particular, I found the servant’s abrupt rediscovery of her desire to speak, when we’d barely grasped her silence, was difficult to absorb. It seemed a convenient device from someone who evidently understood human nature very well, and who could have given us much more of that character’s silent eloquence before making better use of her transformation. Several people at the post-show discussion voiced similarly views, and a number clearly enjoyed the piece.

The third play was much livelier. From the off, there was plenty of humour, and it was clear that Susan Glaspell knew these type of people very well, enough to poke loving fun at them. The husband’s exasperation was brilliantly done, along with his remarkable calmness and sadness as he tells his wife that he has a suppressed desire to leave her. Personally I thought his desire was more overt than that, but this fitted perfectly with his wife’s obsession. I did wonder, along with at least one other audience member, whether he was simply setting his wife up to show her the consequences of her beliefs, but it became clear that he wasn’t. The complicated unravelling of Mabel’s dream was a comic masterpiece, and I do hope we’ll get to see more of Glaspell’s work again.

Post-show discussion: Sam Walters was here as usual, together with Kate Saxon, who directs Chains of Dew, and two of the three directors of these pieces – I didn’t get the names, though judging by the accents I’d say one of them was Svetlana Dimcovic. There were various questions about Glaspell’s work, and how these pieces fitted into the overall trend. I think Suppressed Desires was an early piece, while The Outside was a later work. Trifles is apparently her best known piece, as it’s included in a number of anthologies of American plays, but still very few students, even American ones, recognise her name. Sam Walters chose these plays to show the range of her work, and to compliment Chains of Dew, although he could have chosen a number of other pieces.

There was some information about her “set”, the group of American artists, writers, etc, who wanted to create home-grown American theatre. Most of the stuff being put on at the end of the 19th century was taken from the European tradition, and they felt it was time for the authentic American voice to be heard. This group supported Eugene O’Neill, and they were certainly influenced by, amongst others, Ibsen. They would head for the coast during the summer, and put on plays; there was some uncertainty about whether these were performed by themselves, as enthusiastic amateurs, or by professional actors as a bit of fun during the summer. Either way, they produced some good stuff, and Susan Glaspell was not the least amongst them, judging by this set of plays.

On the way out, Steve heard an American lady compliment one of the actors on the accents they used. Apparently she found them all totally authentic, and appropriate to each setting.

© 2008 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

The Last Days Of Judas Iscariot – April 2008

6/10

By Stephen Adly Guirgis

Directed by Rupert Goold

Venue: Almeida Theatre

Date: Saturday 12th April 2008

This was a good production. It was pretty loud – I only used the headset briefly in the first half, during Simon’s testimony, but I used it a bit more in the second half.

The overall effect was surreal. The play was set in Hope, a suburb of Purgatory, according to a helpful angel. It concerns an appeal hearing on behalf of Judas Iscariot, to get him out of Hell and into heaven. The story jumps around a lot, so I’ll just throw things in as I remember them. St. Monica, resplendent in a red tracksuit, gave us a good insight into Judas’ suffering, and how she was requested to put in a good word with God about helping him. She visits Judas, and finds him frozen in grief, unable to move, with only one tear trickling down his cheek. She’s very moved by this, and does her best to help.

Corey Johnson played the judge who does his best to refuse to hear the case. We find out later that he’d hanged himself when he was on Earth, which is why he was trying cases in Purgatory. Really he should have recused himself in this trial, but that’s the afterlife for you. There’s a young woman lawyer, Cunningham, who’s determined to get him to change his mind and eventually succeeds, and another chap who’s keen to defend against the appeal. He’s so smarmy he took flattery to the next level. He flirted outrageously with Mother Teresa and constantly praised the judge, but he was brought up short by Satan. Cunningham has her own issues, as we discover later, but she’s mainly feisty and determined, and does her best to get Judas’s sentence repealed.

A jury is sworn in – it includes the angel who gave us the introduction at the start – and they sit in the front row of the auditorium, to one side. Witnesses are called, and it’s an illustrious list. One of the first is Satan, played by Dougie Henshall, all svelte and charming in a classy suit, but he could get nasty at times. He was very candid about his activities, but completely denied that he tempted Judas to betray Christ.

Initially, Satan was complaining that a couple of his souls had been nicked, and he wanted replacements, he wasn’t fussy who. He had an unsettling way of looking at the audience at this point. He also reckoned he didn’t compete with God – people were turning up in Hell all by themselves, while he sat on his sofa watching hour long dramas on HBO. I thought there was more humour in this than the audience responded to, and there were some gaps in the auditorium after the interval. The language wasn’t a problem for us – if you watch The Wire regularly, as we do, this was pretty tame – although I probably didn’t get all the cultural references.

Saint Peter told us of ‘Drew running off to be with Jesus. Matthew was also with Peter, and explained the attitude towards Jewish tax collectors. A nun read out a quote from Thomas Aquinas(?) during Mother Teresa’s testimony. She got a bit stroppy at having to read it out a second time, as the prosecution lawyer didn’t get it first time around. Personally I don’t blame him, it was a tricky piece of language.

Satan was recalled to the stand, and was very unhappy about it. He put both counsellors through Hell before continuing. Pilate was called, and arrived in sandy coloured plus fours with purple socks, carrying a golf club. He clearly enjoys all the facilities at the heavenly country club. Despite her best efforts, Cunningham was unable to pin any responsibility for Jesus’ death on him; that’s how cool Pilate was.

The second half started with Monica introducing us to Mary Magdalene. She was clear that she wasn’t Jesus’ wife, but his best friend. Judas was probably his second best friend, chalk to Jesus’ cheese. Jesus argued with Judas a lot, but always loved him. Then we were back into the court case.

Caiaphas gave testimony, and was fairly unmoved about it all, but he still couldn’t explain the difference between his betrayal of Jesus, and Judas’s. There were lots of different arguments put forward, but at times I felt the writer’s own passion had taken over, and I wasn’t able to connect with what was going on. On the whole, I liked Satan’s evidence best – he seemed to be pointing them in a more useful direction, had they cared to take it.

We saw two jury members, apart from the angel we met near the start. One was a woman still on life support back on Earth, so she was dressed in hospital blue; the other was a young man who didn’t yet know he was dead, and who didn’t ask anyone in case he found out. He ended the play by bringing Judas some beer, and then telling him a long story about how he cheated on his wife. At this point Judas has frozen up again, in the pose that Monica found him in earlier. Jesus is sitting on the far desk, having tried to help Judas get past his guilt. It was a fairly downbeat ending, but there was a lot to like during the rest of the play.

The set had a curved box covering the upper level, with a big slit at which characters could appear. Towards the back there was a fireman’s pole, while the floor underneath was a dangerous looking design of random and shattered tiles. To our left, the judge had a desk, to our right was the lawyers’ table and chairs, and in the centre was a manhole cover. Various lights gave a number of different effects, and on the whole I liked the sparse design and jumping from one scene to another without much explanation or sense of place (place on Earth, that is). One exception was Satan’s description of his meeting with Judas at a bar after the betrayal. Judas brought on two bar stools, and his Hawaiian shirt brightened the place up enormously. Satan pretends to be Clementine from Cappadocia, and Judas is so drunk he thinks Cappadocia is in Egypt. Or else he just didn’t care, which is more likely.

There was lots of humour in this, and lots of excellent performances. The down side was that some speeches went on too long, and the energy flagged in the second half with some of the repetitious questioning. I would have liked to have heard more from Judas himself, but then one of the points was that he was too locked up in his guilt and grief to help himself. I was sad that he couldn’t get past those things to accept the forgiveness that was on offer. To sum up, there was much to like, with some rough patches.

© 2008 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

The Clean House – April 2008

6/10

By Sarah Ruhl

Directed by John Dove

Venue: Yvonne Arnaud Theatre

Date: Wednesday 9th April 2008

On the drive back, Steve and I decided this play was like a cross between Terms of Endearment and Art. There was quite an emphasis on relationships, and the play had several emotional moments, but the whole piece had an abstract, almost surreal air to it, and the emotions were never allowed to get too sentimental. The casting was excellent, and the performances likewise, but I found I never really got into the play as much as I would have liked.

What I did like was the set, the crossover action, the performances and the humour. The set was fairly simple. At the back was a doorway with some classical looking architecture above it which later turned into a balcony overlooking the sea. To our right was a window, and to our left a wall with a moveable table – a cross between a breakfast bar and an ironing board – and various cubby holes. Just off centre was a large white sofa with coffee table, and another chair completed the set. In addition, there were two large TV screens on either side, which gave us important information from time to time.

The plot: a seriously important lady doctor (Lane) has hired a young Brazilian woman to clean her house. She doesn’t have time to do it herself, and probably wouldn’t know how. (She didn’t know where her blankets were kept, for a start.) The young woman, Matilde, pronounced, as far as I could make out, Ma-til-je, is the daughter of the two funniest people in Brazil, or at least in her small home town in Brazil, and since they only died less than a year ago, and she doesn’t actually like cleaning (it makes her sad), she’s depressed. Lane has helped her as much as she could – got her into hospital, made sure she got anti-depressants – but to no avail. The play effectively starts with Lane’s sister, Virginia, offering to spend her free and all too empty afternoons cleaning her sister’s house in Matilde’s place. Apparently cleaning makes her feel good, although from her confidences to the audience, it mainly seems to stave off thoughts of suicide, death and other morbid subjects.

In the course of cleaning her sister’s house, Virginia and Matilde discover signs that Charles, Lane’s husband, is cheating on his wife. Flamboyant underpants are not Lane’s style, and when various pairs of sexy knickers turn up in the wash, it’s pretty clear what’s going on. Shortly afterwards, Lane discovers Virginia’s contribution to the clean house, and Charles announces he’s found his soul mate. (He used a Jewish term which I have no idea how to spell, always assuming I could remember it.) Apparently, in Jewish custom, this means he’s compelled to leave his wife for the other woman, who in this case is Ana, someone Charles has been treating for breast cancer (he’s a surgeon). Lane isn’t impressed by this decision, Virginia is happy for the new couple, and Matilde gets to split her time between the two households, on condition she tells Ana a joke every day. (Matilde is trying to think up the perfect joke – it’s a family thing.) Ana gets ill again, Charles heads off to Alaska to find a specific type of yew tree to bring back and plant in their garden to help cure her, but Ana dies from laughing at Matilde’s perfect joke before he can get back. Weird, or what?

What saved us all from maudlin sentimentality was the humour. Some of this came through the crossovers between the two locations. When the balcony comes forward during the second half, the characters on it throw various items over the rail, where they not only land on the stage below, they also land on the characters who are still in the sitting room, and who definitely notice them. First it’s apples, then it’s clothes. Also, just as we learn of Ana’s recurrence of her cancer, we see Charles on his quest for the special yew, all kitted out in winter gear, walking across the back of the stage as snow descends from the flies. Hilarious. He walks across a few times, and each time the snow pours down. Finally, we see him carrying this enormous tree that he’s cut down, and there’s a message about how he can’t get it on the plane, so he’s coming back some other way.

Another trick was to show us Matilde’s parents during her conversations with the audience. Oliver Cotton and Eleanor Bron doubled these parts with Charles and Ana. They would be trundled across the back of the stage on some seat or platform, doing whatever Matilde recalled them doing. Later, when Lane is imagining what Charles and Ana are up to, these two appear again, and when Matilde arrives on stage she’s horrified to find her parents in someone else’s imagination. It was a nice touch, and went along well with these overlapping realities.

I should also explain that some of the characters each have several goes at talking to the audience. In fact, the play opens that way. The TV screens showed various headings – character’s names, dates and places, and one time a translation of the Portuguese that Ana and Matilde are communicating in. Meantime, the characters Matilde, Lane and Virginia get to talk to us directly, setting the scene for what’s to come. Matilde probably did this the most. Her first “soliloquy” was done standing centre stage and telling jokes in Portuguese, to the accompaniment of rapturous canned laughter. Apparently, she’s very good at jokes. In Portuguese.

Apart from all this, there’s a lovely moment when Virginia loses it completely and wrecks Lane’s sitting room, even pulling the curtain rail and curtains off the window. It made for a messy end to the play, as there was no time to tidy anything up, but it was fun to see her let rip.

As I’ve said, the performances were excellent. Matilde was played by Natalia Tena, whom we’ve seen in the Shared Experience Bronte. Lane was played by Patricia Hodge, and Virginia by Joanna McCallum, so it was a pretty high-powered production all round. Probably not a play we’d choose to see again, but still good fun on the night.

© 2008 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

The Man Who Had All The Luck – March 2008

6/10

By Arthur Miller

Directed by Sean Holmes

Venue: Donmar Theatre

Date: Saturday 29th March 2008

As is typical with Steve and me, we hadn’t a clue about this play as we headed for London. Who wrote it, who was in it, what it was about, etc. All gone. That’s what happens when we book tickets months ahead and then get on with our lives. So it’s often a great pleasure when we do turn up to see the production and find it’s by one of our favourite playwrights, and the cast is dripping with talent, as it was today. I like my life.

This is an early Miller play, almost the first thing he wrote, and the first performed on Broadway, although for a mere four performances (program notes are wonderful things). The plot concerns a father and two brothers – typical Miller. The elder brother David seems to be blessed with unbelievable luck. He doesn’t just land on his feet, he lands smack bang in the middle of a red carpet, and finds riches and everything he could ever want thrust upon him apparently without the slightest effort on his part. His brother Amos has been indoctrinated by their father to become a top class baseball pitcher, and as he doesn’t seem to have much else going for him, that skill looks to be his ticket to a good life. Sadly, though, things don’t work out, because the father’s fixation has actually contributed to weaknesses in the son’s game that prevent him making the big time.

Meantime David has gone from good to better. His girlfriend’s father, implacably opposed to David having anything to do with his daughter, has been killed in a freak accident, leaving David and Hester free to marry. A friend brings along a relative to get his car fixed at the garage David works at – he’s got a reputation for being a genius at fixing cars – and when David hasn’t a clue what’s wrong with the thing, never having had any training, along comes an immigrant mechanic who can tell just by listening to the engine noise what the problem is. He not only identifies the problem, he even does the whole repair (replacing the crankshaft), to allow David to get some much-needed sleep. This mechanic starts up his own repair business just along from where David works, but despite the better location, ends up running out of money and working for David, who by now has a farm, courtesy of Hester’s late father, also the garage, a petrol station (which just happens to be on a new main road that’s being built) and probably some other assets that I couldn’t quite keep track of.

David is so convinced that he’s living in a Greek tragedy, that’s he’s expecting some major problems to happen to balance all the good things in his life. As time goes on, and the successes accumulate, the pressure builds, and he starts to go a bit crazy. He’s convinced that he and Hester won’t be able to have children – that that’s the way “fate” will nobble his happiness. He’s a real miseryguts when he puts his mind to it. Anyway, Hester does get pregnant, but that doesn’t help, as David can’t believe it’ll be born OK. Hester had a fall during the pregnancy, which might have damaged the baby, and there’s a lot of tension during the birth, as all the men wait downstairs to hear the news. A scatty aunt is fetching and carrying to help the doctor and midwife, and would no doubt have passed on some news to them all if she’d had anything to tell. The doctor, wise man, refuses to tell her anything, so her lack of information just makes things worse. Eventually, there’s a great cry, presumably the birth pains, and the men assume the worst. The aunt appears, crying, and very emotional, and it looks like David’s luck has finally run out. Of course not! It’s a boy, and a healthy one at that. David is in despair – he thought losing the baby would prevent his mink from dying off (it’s complicated, but he’s also become a mink farmer).

Finally, with David avoiding his own son, the wife strategically fails to pass on a message about some dodgy feed, in the hope that the mink will all die off, and David will somehow become the happy-go-lucky fellow she married (and she thinks David is crazy). Also, the mechanic is leaving, as he can’t take being around a man who’s so sure that he hasn’t earned or deserved all the good things that have come to him. The saving of the mink finally hammers home this point to us, if not entirely to him. He had been told to check the feed before giving it to the animals, so he did. He saw some little black specks on some of the fish, so he threw those away and only used the clean ones. His own carefulness and willingness to be thorough was what saved him. At last, he’s able to let go of his millstone and accept his son, along with his other many blessings. Ah.

It’s a strange story in many ways, more stylised than many of Miller’s plays, but still very interesting. The performances were all excellent, although the accents wandered a bit from the straight and narrow at times. I felt very moved by Amos’s anguish as he acknowledged the judgement of the baseball scout, that he’d never make the grade as a professional because he couldn’t play the bases. His whole life had been built on one thing, and now that was taken away from him. In the penultimate scene, with the father taking his leave, Amos turns up to give David the takings from the petrol station that he’s now working at, and completely ignores his father.

There was also quite a lot of humour, and I did like the old style car that was dropped down on wires for the repairing scenes. Not Miller’s best, but still an enjoyable afternoon.

© 2008 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Uncle Vanya – March 2008

6/10

By Anton Chekov, translated by Stephen Mulrine

Directed by Peter Hall

Company: Peter Hall Company

Venue: Yvonne Arnaud Theatre

Date: Wednesday 12th March 2008

This is one of the few plays where I saw a fantastic production first time out, which makes it difficult for me to be entirely fair to all subsequent productions. This one didn’t do too badly, mind you, and the translation was excellent – suitably up-to-date and flowing without jarring at all.

It was the first production put on in the new Rose Theatre at Kingston, and the set reflects that acting space. The stage is basically an open space, with no flats and minimal dressing. There’s a tree to reflect the countryside, but otherwise it’s just tables, chairs, a piano and an easel, all of which are moved around to create the appropriate rooms. It’s an interesting use of space, giving a very open feel, and acknowledging the theatricality of the piece while still giving us fairly precise locations to frame the action. I liked that awareness of the artificiality. This is the first time I’ve seen a production of a Chekov play where the comedic emphasis really worked. I could see what the writer was trying to achieve – these are comedies after all – and could appreciate the humour he was bringing out by having such over-the-top reactions from such ordinary folk. I still feel there’s more to be got out of the play on the emotional side than I saw tonight, but I have a better understanding of Chekov’s sense of humour now, which I hope will help when I see his other plays.

The performances were good overall. The best for me was Loo Brealy as Sonya. She got across the range of that character’s emotions very well, from her rampant explanation of the doctor’s ideas to her attempt to comfort her uncle at the end of the play. I also liked Ronald Pickup as the professor, as I found I could relate both to his feelings as he goes through his pain and discomfort, and to the effect he’s having on everyone around him, making them dance attendance and disrupting the smooth running of the household. It’s Yelena’s beauty that disrupts the emotional life of the estate, but it’s his presence in the first place that throws the rhythm of their lives out of balance and makes them more vulnerable to the other temptations (I reckon). His grumpiness was mainly down to his ill-health, and once the nanny character gave him some sympathy, he was putty in her hands.

I also noticed how much the characters seemed to be throwing their lines at each other, and not really communicating at all, except sporadically. The soliloquies were also presented clearly, with each soliloquiser coming to the centre front of the stage to speak to the audience. No musing out loud here, which is another way the theatricality of the piece was emphasised.

The doctor, played by Neil Pearson, was sneaking vodka into his tea during the first scene. I was less sure this time that the doctor actually does as much work as he says he does. Like most of the men in this play, he’s good at grumbling, including grumbling about how much other people grumble. Michelle Dockery as Yelena gave me the impression of a fish out of water. She had no idea how to live in the country, and although she was honest enough about her feelings for her husband, that was about the extent of her virtues. She doesn’t want to work, she’s trapped in a loveless marriage, and she doesn’t seem to realise how much of an effect she’s having on the people around her, apart from her husband. I didn’t get the feeling that she’s really interrogating the doctor about Sonya in order to snare him for herself this time.

So overall it was an enjoyable evening, with some interesting variations that have given me a fair bit to think about. The post-show discussion added a few pieces of information, which I’ve incorporated into the notes.

© 2008 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Spies – March 2008

6/10

By Michael Frayn, adapted by Daniel Jamieson

Directed by Nikki Sved

Venue: Connaught Theatre

Date: Thursday 6th March 2008

This was a gentle romp through the memory banks of one elderly man, as he reviewed his childhood experiences during the war. He and his friend Keith began a game of watching Keith’s mother, under the belief that she was a German spy, and as the information comes in we get to see the reality behind the game.

The narrator, the older Stefan, takes us with him as he, and we, watch the young Stephen go through the wartime experiences he’s recalling. The set was interesting. At first I wasn’t sure that it would help us to relate to the story, as there seemed to be more emphasis on corrugated iron than on the privet hedges which were central to Stefan’s initial memories. However, as the story unfolded, the other locations that were needed were brilliantly brought to life by the constant folding and unfolding of panels and doors. Occasionally some furniture had to be brought on, such as the beds, but this was done pretty smoothly and didn’t hold things up much. This is only the second week of the tour, so I expect things will get even smoother as time goes on.

The performances were all excellent, especially Benjamin Warren as young Stephen, and Jordan Whyte as the spied upon Mrs Hayward. I didn’t hear all of the dialogue, and there was one unfortunate line which was lost when Benjamin Warren needed to cough, and the others seemed to move the dialogue along without getting clear what Stephen was trying to say. However, none of this spoiled it for me. The reflective nature of the story, and the humour and gentleness with which it was told, made for an engaging evening. I especially liked the way the two boys find out that Mrs Hayward has been marking some dates in her diary with a “secret” mark. These dates occur once a month, always around the new moon, and they jump to completely the wrong conclusion. They also mention some other dates which have an exclamation mark, about three of them, and one on the Haywards’ wedding anniversary. Very suspicious! And very funny. Stephen’s discovery of “the value of x” was also good fun.

© 2008 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

The Deep Blue Sea – March 2008

6/10

By Terence Rattigan

Directed by Edward Hall

Venue: Yvonne Arnaud Theatre

Date: Monday 3rd March 2008

This is one of my favourite plays, but I have seen productions I prefer to this one. Rattigan is the master of restrained emotions, of showing people who have deep feelings within themselves that rarely, if ever, find expression, and when they do, it’s usually not convenient for themselves or others. Here the emotions were clearly displayed, almost overly so, and that feeling of social restraint was completely lost. I couldn’t see why Hester, the wife, wouldn’t just say, “Sod this for a game of soldiers”, and leave with the husband the first time he came calling, but then we wouldn’t have had a full evening, which would have been a shame.

The set was the usual tatty flat. This one was tattier than most, and the back wall had a see-through cut-away so that we could see the action on the landing and stairs. The performances were fine – no criticism of the actors is intended here – but the direction made the whole play seem flabbier than it is. There’s a lot of power under the surface, but when it’s not held back, it doesn’t come across as strongly. Greta Scacchi was a fairly robust Hester, who looked as if she’d be perfectly capable of seeing off several Freddies. Probably captained her school hockey team, you know the sort. She was more restrained in the final scene with Mr Miller, and that worked better for me. Simon Williams was almost too good as the husband. He came across as more understanding and less straight-laced than I’ve seen before, which was fine in terms of relating to the way his character suffers as he sees the woman he loves going under, but doesn’t help to explain why she doesn’t just pack a bag and scarper back to a reasonably good life with a loving husband. I would have.

And given this Freddie, I might not have waited till my husband turned up. I couldn’t make out why Dugald Bruce-Lockhart was veering into campness in his portrayal of Freddie. I realised afterwards that they might have been trying to suggest that the problem with the relationship was that Freddie was a closet homosexual, and so couldn’t love Hester as she wanted to be loved. If so, I can see where they’re coming from. Rattigan was gay, and this play was triggered by his own grief at an ex-lover’s suicide. Not being able to put such matters explicitly on the stage (although the first draft was apparently about two gay men), Rattigan changed the characters round to be more acceptable.

It’s a fine idea, and with another play, or another production, it might work, but although Rattigan has plenty going on inside each character, he doesn’t have a lot of ambiguity going on in his plays. Freddie is clearly an ex-RAF pilot who is having trouble adjusting to regular life after the excitement and lack of responsibility of the war years. If he is a closet gay, he’s not out even to himself, and if they were trying to insert this as a possible motivation for his character, then I feel they did the play a disservice. Trust the text. Whatever the cause, I felt this portrayal unbalanced the play, making it more about Freddie than about Hester’s unreasoning and uncontrollable passion. Given all that, Dugald gave a fine performance of a character that Rattigan didn’t write. His borrowing of the shilling to leave for Hester brought a gasp from the audience. It’s certainly a shocking moment, and came across as well as I can remember.

The other supports were fine. Jacqueline Tong was good as the gossipy landlady Mrs Elton, while Geoff Breton and Rebecca O’Mara grated just enough as the unsophisticated young couple determined to help, and gave us a nice insight into other people’s relationships. Jack Tarlton as Jackie Jackson did a good job of showing us just how embarrassing Freddie had become. But the accolades for the evening had to go to Tim McMullan as Mr Miller, the foreign ex-doctor who helps Hester in more ways than just the medical. He conveyed a sense of that character’s hinterland, which I often feel is as big as most people’s countries. I was moved to tears as he did his best to persuade Hester not to have another go at suicide.

For once, Hester’s paintings were actually visible on the stage, including a study of Freddie. Unfortunately, they were of a quality to stretch credulity when Hester’s husband professed to like one of them. The earlier piece over the fireplace was better, but now I see why they’re often left invisible to the audience.

Although it wasn’t entirely to my liking, I still enjoyed the evening, as it’s a very good play, and the production did have its good moments.

© 2008 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Dickens Unplugged – February 2008

6/10

By Adam Long

Directed by Adam Long

Venue: Yvonne Arnaud Theatre

Date: Friday 15th February 2008

This has been a good week for dogs. On Wednesday, there was a lovely (or not-so-lovely) pooch in Brief Encounter, and tonight we had not only another cuddly pooch (Dora’s little fashion accessory), but also a massive bull terrier, courtesy (if that’s the right term) of Bill Sykes. The cute little pooch nearly stole the show, as they have a tendency to do, I find. Perhaps it was the way it waved at its fans in the audience….

This was the Reduced Shakespeare version of Dickens, and done in much the same style as the Shakespeare, but with more music. There were five actors this time, and they were all well used. Despite all of the cast being male, I found the women’s parts particularly impressive, especially as they often told the male characters where to shove it. Something not often found in the original works, true, but I’m sure they were updating the stories with integrity and love. This lot are, after all, the best Charles Dickens tribute group in the world!

After the opening song, Dickens himself arrives, and remonstrates with the band. The set is a cornucopia of Dickensian bric-a-brac, with signs springing forth from either side, above their heads, and across the floor, to tell us which book we’re being treated to for the next five seconds. Condensed storylines are rattled off in song, and we get to see longer passages from David Copperfield, A Tale of Two Cities, and, finally, A Christmas Carol. All of this was interspersed with information about Dickens’s life and death. It was a heady brew.

What did I like most? The guillotine sequence, with Sidney Carton’s head popping up to sing the last line of his song. The way various characters keep interrupting David Copperfield as he’s trying to hear Dora’s last words. Tiny Tim riffing on his electric guitar (I still got the sniffles when Tiny Tim came on). The quick passing of many years, demonstrated by a sign saying “many years” being whisked across the stage. Dickens, ill in bed, being haunted by the “ghosts” of Bill Sykes and Miss Faversham, who’re both annoyed at the way he bumped them off. The early concatenation of songs from Oliver, which annoys Dickens so much he has them act out some correct scenes instead. The over-acting of the bludgeoning scene from Oliver Twist, which was apparently Dickens’ favourite to act out on stage. His ex and Ellen agreed at his graveside that that was what did him in, all that bludgeoning. The three ghosts of Christmas, especially the final one, with his pathetic “woooo”.

It took me a bit of time to get warmed up tonight, so I may have underestimated the performance, but I suspect there’s more to come. There are some more serious bits to this show, but they are brief, and overall it’s lively, entertaining, and fun. I hope they have a good run in London.

© 2008 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me