Category Archives: 6/10

Equus – February 2008

6/10

By: Peter Shaffer

Directed by: Thea Sharrock

Venue: Chichester Festival Theatre

Date: Thursday 7th February 2008

It’s strange that I found the previous performance of Equus in London more enjoyable than this one, yet I prefer this performance space – I felt it suited this production more – and the performances were as good, if not better. I think this is an example of the surprise factor. I had a greater sense of wonder and awe the first time round as I hadn’t seen the horse designs before. This time, they were still good, but not such a lift to my system. Some of the magic had gone. Ah well.

Simon Callow played the psychiatrist this time, and Alfie Allen the young man. Simon Callow’s portrayal was much more uptight, and I got a greater sense of someone wrestling with their own demons, never mind someone else’s. He seemed on the verge of a breakdown, and although I didn’t entirely relate to the imagery of the horse’s head, I got the sense of something powerful which he had to come to terms with. Alfie Allen’s performance was very good, and this time I felt that even if the sex had happened in a less stressful place, he might not have got over his obsession. With the more open performance space, I had a greater sense of all the contributing factors to his fixation.

Apart from the cast changes, the only other change I noticed was that when Alan went to blind the horses, the lights went out together, instead of one by one, as they did in the West End. A very enjoyable reprise for a very good production.

© 2008 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Statement Of Regret – February 2008

6/10

By: Kwame Kwei-Armah

Directed by: Jeremy Herrin

Venue: Cottesloe Theatre

Date: Wednesday 6th February 2008

This was an interesting and stimulating experience. It’s the first play I’ve seen by Kwame Kwei-Armah, and I was impressed by how well he intertwined the personal and the social, how the characters weren’t just mouthpieces for the ideas they’re putting forward. On the other hand, while the performances were excellent, and the play informative, I didn’t feel I could relate to the characters as much as I’d hoped. I’ve had no difficulty with other “black” plays, e.g. Big White Fog, so I’m not sure how much of the distance I felt was down to me (very possible), and how much down to what Steve described as a lack of soul (also possible). Steve has seen other plays by this writer, and found the same deficiency in his other work. I certainly didn’t feel there was anything missing while I was watching the piece, although now that I have a little distance from it, I find there was nothing happening which I really cared about. And from their actions sometimes, it seemed the characters didn’t really care either.

The story is of an older man of West Indian parentage, returning from an enforced leave of absence, who has a breakdown right in front of us. As he runs a policy think tank on black affairs, this is bad news for the whole organisation – five men, two women, and no dog. Actually, given that the two women are this guy’s wife and his mistress, it’s clear the female point of view is going to be pretty limited, and so it proved. But that’s not a problem if the rest of the play can deliver, and most of the time it did.

On the personal level, this chap not only has his mistress, but also his son working for him, while another, illegitimate, son joins them as an intern during the play. Lots of scope for personal issues there. There’s also a gay black guy, and a laid back colourful character who delivers the post and does the opening and closing prayers for meetings, and a partner who is thinking of accepting a candidacy as an MP for the Tories. He’s really covered the ground, but it didn’t seem formulaic at the time, so apologies if my description makes it seem that way.

Don Warrington played the lead character, Kwaku, who is imploding before our eyes. His drinking is obvious, his delusional state less so, but it becomes clearer as the play progresses. His refusal to handle the grief he feels over his father’s death a couple of years ago, plus his guilt and other emotions, drive him crazy. He gradually takes on his father’s persona, eventually making some outrageous racist and anti-Semitic remarks in a TV interview which pretty much wipe out the good he’s done with the organisation over the years. It’s a good performance, and came across pretty powerfully in that small space. I did need a little time to adjust to his use of two different accents, but once I did I found it a useful way of showing what the character was going through, not knowing what path to follow.

The central conflict of ideas was whether black people who are descended from slaves are a distinct group with different needs and therefore should campaign separately, or whether there’s greater strength in all black people working together to further their joint aims. The divisions in the “black community” were very apparent here. Those from Africa who had settled here to find better education, jobs, etc, regarded themselves as different from (and better than) those who had come over from the West Indies. The statistics quoted made it clear that young men with an African origin were doing very well, while West Indian derived young men were at the bottom of the heap. The idea of Post-Traumatic Slave Syndrome was raised and briefly discussed, but didn’t get a full treatment, as the play was covering a wider range than just one issue, albeit a big issue. (Post-Traumatic Slave Syndrome is an idea put forward by Dr Joy De Gruy Leary, and the program notes contain a discussion between her and the author.) The whole conflict was personalised here, because Kwaku’s legitimate son has an African mother, and so is neither one thing nor the other. His father’s rejection of him as not being properly West Indian is deeply hurtful.

The set is two offices, with doors off to right and left up some stairs. In the foreground is the open-plan office, with Kwaku’s office above and behind. Obviously, when action was taking place there, the front office had to go quiet, and this led to a strange lull the day after the really bad TV interview, when the characters left in the office would have surely been doing more than sitting at their desks looking glum while the other characters were having their row in the upper office. However, there was no other way to stage it, and it didn’t distract me too much – just a passing thought.

I don’t feel I’ve been able to put down the real experience of this play so far. It was fine watching it, but now I just seem to be left with ideas, and nothing much in my gut. So I’ll leave it there, and hope I can get enough out of these descriptions to recall the feelings, such as they were.

© 2008 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

War Horse – January 2008

6/10

By: Michael Morpurgo (novel) adapted by Nick Stafford

Directed by: Marianne Elliot

Venue: Olivier Theatre

Date: Thursday 24th January 2008

Although I enjoyed this production, I probably found it less good than some of the reports we’d heard, mainly because our expectations were higher than usual. The horse puppets were indeed fantastic, and I certainly cried at the end, but our distance from the stage meant we weren’t as involved as we normally like to be. I had hoped that the size of the production would carry that far back, but I did miss seeing the actor’s expressions clearly. Another reminder that we like to get up close and personal with the action, though preferably not within soaking range.

The set was sparse and effective. At first, I thought the strip of white, torn paper across the centre of the stage was actually in front of a curtain of some sort. As the action progressed, I realised the stage was open to the back, and the way this strip was  lit made it seem to be floating in the air. It also allowed for scenes to be projected onto it, giving us information on the time and place of each scene, and showing some shadow puppeteering for the action that couldn’t be fitted onto the stage. The floor had the revolve painted up as streaks and patches of brown and grey. This very effectively suggested furrows, mud, rutted paths, and probably a few other things as well. A bit of this decoration spilled over to the rest of the stage, which was otherwise plain black floorboards running front to back. I noticed what seemed like a forked tree trunk in the shadows to our left – this turned out to be a plough – and to our right were a couple of boxes. Doors, carts, wagons, and even a tank were brought on as needed.

The key to this whole production has to be the marvellous puppet work. Apart from the horses themselves, there was a goose, running around, pecking at the ground and hissing at people, several birds flying across the sky at different times, a young girl in occupied France who makes friends with the horses, and a rather nasty crow who shows an unpleasant interest in the corpses littering the place. But the horses were spectacular. Full sized puppets, with two men inside them working the legs with hand controls, and another chap at the head, giving them life and movement. They were rarely still, always shifting and nosing at things, as horses do, and even though I could see the person working the head, it was easy to forget that and just see the horses.

I did find it a bit more confusing when Joey, the star of the show, was a foal. He was so small that there were three people working him from the outside, and as they were dressed the same as the actors, I did find it hard to tell sometimes whether they were people holding the horse or non-existent puppeteers. This was especially true at the horse market, with lots of folk milling around. However, we soon got past that, and seeing actors actually riding these magnificent puppets was quite amazing. It was particularly sad when we got to the later stages of the war and some of the horses were bags of bone, dying as they tried to pull the guns from place to place. It was heartbreaking to see them die.

It was certainly a sad story, and I fully expected Albert to find Joey just as he was breathing his last – a truly sad ending. I was surprised when this animal actually managed to survive, despite the hard work, the lack of food and all the other hardships, but then the story is aimed at children. The basic plot is that Joey is bought as a foal by a farmer who’s  in competition with his more successful brother-in-law. He spends all the mortgage money on him, and his son, Albert, trains the horse up so they can sell him. Albert and Joey get on really well, and then Albert finds out that his silly father has bet that Joey will plough a strip of land by a particular Sunday – I forget what it was called. As Joey is more suited to riding than ploughing, no one expects him to win, but Albert keeps working with him (he has a whole week, after all!), and sure enough, Joey manages it, just. Thinking Joey’s now safe, and his, Albert lets his guard down, and his father then sells Joey off to the army as a cavalry horse, just in time for him to be shipped off to France for WWI. We then see Joey’s story, as he gets to meet Topthorn, the other horse in the story, and they’re ridden in a cavalry charge, only to have their riders shot off the top of them. The horses then wander round the battlefield, until a German cavalry officer finds them, and recognising their quality does his best to protect them. The opportunity comes when horses are wanted to pull an ambulance cart. At first, it doesn’t look like Topthorn will handle the harness, but Joey remembers it from his ploughing days, and volunteers. Topthorn then joins in, and the cavalry officer takes advantage of this and a later opportunity to take on the identity of a dead ambulance man, to keep the horses safe on a farm over the winter.

By this time, Albert has joined up, thinking he’ll be joining the cavalry regiment and be able to find Joey, only he’s sidetracked into the infantry, and gets caught up in the fighting. Joey and Topthorn are taken back into service pulling the German artillery, and eventually Topthorn dies. Joey survives, and wanders over the battlefield, until he gets caught up in some barbed wire in no-man’s land (OK, I was crying by this time). The German and British soldiers have a temporary truce to try to recover him; the British soldier wins the coin-toss, and takes him back to their lines, but he’s badly injured. Albert has taken a shell-blast and is temporarily blinded, and both he and Joey end up at the same medical station. As the medical staff are declaring that they can’t treat the horse, Albert is talking with his mate, and Joey recognises his voice, and I can’t go on, I can’t see the keys for the tears…..

(Several tissues later…) Well, it all ends happily, as I said before, and if it hadn’t been so sad, I think I would have enjoyed it more. I accept it’s a sad subject, and I don’t expect it to be tarted up, but maybe I just wasn’t in the mood for something so powerful. I’m still glad I saw it, and some of the images will stay with me for a long time.

One other thing to mention was that much of the Germans’ dialogue was in German, without surtitles. A bit confusing, but nicely realistic, especially as one of the German officers was suspicious of his colleagues who spoke in English.

At the end, all the puppeteers came on as themselves to begin with, and after taking the first bows, they dashed off. I was hoping they’d come back on as the horses, and they did, rearing up, and taking their bows beautifully. I still feel like I’ve seen actual horses on stage. This was a masterpiece in many ways, and I hope they can find some other way to use these magnificent puppets again.

© 2008 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Henry IV part 2 – January 2008

6/10

By: William Shakespeare

Directed by: Richard Twyman

Venue: Courtyard Theatre

Date: Friday 18th January 2008

Unlike yesterday, when we saw a play much improved since the summer, tonight we saw a play which improved in some areas, but which seemed determined to focus its energy on the audience directly in front of the stage. As we were to the side, I found I lost quite a bit in various scenes, especially the tavern scene, although most of the rest worked reasonably well for us ‘outcasts’. Still, Hal’s performance had come on from the summer, and there were a lot of interesting echo points within the cycle.

To start, Rumour entered as before with Richard’s cheap coffin. (Well, he’d spent all of the treasury during his reign, so there probably wasn’t enough money to get him a decent one.) I noticed that Rumour (also Bagot, of course), woke Richard by kissing his hand, which I think is new, and for some of the lines, e.g. “The acts commencèd on this ball of earth”, he indicated by gesturing toward the coffin that Richard’s killing is the source of everyone’s problems. As before, he kindly included all the audience in his “household”.

Next we see the results of Rumour’s naughty ways, as Northumberland is beset with conflicting reports of the battle. As usual, the man who’s wrong, Lord Bardolph, is the most cocksure, and the most crestfallen when the real story is accepted. I noticed that Chuk Iwuji was playing the messenger with the bad news, here called Sir John Colville, though in the text it’s a character called Morton. Chuk also played the messenger part assigned to Scroop in Richard II, and brought similar bad news to that king, drawing out the delivery of it so long that the king had time for several speeches and changes of heart before being finally overwhelmed by it all. Here, Northumberland prevents such a long drawn out affair by going straight to the important part, Hotspur’s death, and keeping the focus on that. A tiny reverse echo, but we’re starting to pick these up now. Sir John Colville also ends with the good news here, while Scroop leaves the worst till last.

Now Falstaff and the Lord Chief Justice (LCJ) have their first sparring match. This came across clearly, and at the end, when Sir John says “I will turn diseases to commodity”, he added a cough, very appropriate at this time. I did feel that Falstaff was lacking the joie de vivre that really has to be part of his character. I felt there was a lack of smugness in the line “I am not only witty in myself, but the cause that wit is in other men.” On one level, Falstaff actually believes the lies he tells, and that bolsters his already large ego to a point of insufferability, but it also makes him partly innocent of wrongdoing (at least in his eyes), and allows us to like him even as he’s being loathsome. I didn’t get that from tonight’s performance, nor an alternative reading that satisfied me, but the verbal sparring with the LCJ worked well enough, and Falstaff’s relationship with the prince was established sufficiently for Hal’s changes towards Falstaff to show up clearly.

The plotting by the rebels wasn’t so clear this time, and here I felt the reason was that the actors were simply talking too fast for me to make out what they were saying. This happened a few times tonight, and I would rather they hadn’t trimmed ten minutes off the running time (it’s not a competition, lads) and given us more time to savour the dialogue. Mistress Quickly is next up, bringing the officers to arrest Sir John. Again I missed some of this, but I found Maureen Beattie’s performance as the flirtatious but “respectable” widow just as funny as before. Between coming on to the LCJ, and then casting her eyes down in an attempt to look like a virtuous wronged woman, she kept us well entertained.

Now Hal is wheeled on, on the bed, in repose, as it were, and we get a reprise of his first scene with Falstaff. This time, it’s Poins who gets the bottle and soaks the prince’s head. Apart from that, there seemed to be more activity than I remember, but again it didn’t come across so clearly as before. From checking the text, I see that Poins is supposed to take the letter from Hal and read out the bulk of it; in this version, Hal continues to read to the end.

The discussion among Northumberland, his wife and Hotspur’s widow, is a confusing scene at the best of times. The ex-Mrs Percy has a good speech, about Northumberland honouring his son’s memory by not dashing off to help others when he refused to help his own son, and I can hear the sarcasm and bitterness of it on the page, never mind in performance. Here it seemed more like an intellectual argument, and Northumberland’s change of mind was inexplicable. Other than letting us know he’s not going to turn up for the battle again, I can’t see the point of this.

The tavern scene was largely lost on me, although I did pick up on some minor details in Falstaff’s performance, especially the way he interacts with Pistol, exchanging looks with him as he lies back in his chair, Pistol above him. One change was that instead of Peto bringing in the news that the King is at Westminster, it’s good old Rumour/Bagot who does that job. It’s also Rumour/Bagot who takes the letters from the King to the Earls of Surrey and Warwick at the start of the next scene.

The King wasn’t looking well in that scene, and he didn’t get any better by the end of it. After the insomniac speech, pretty well done I thought, the Earls arrive, and Warwick begins to show his reasonableness, advising the King not to get things out of proportion. He refers to Rumour during this speech, and it just so happens Rumour has reappeared to underline this reference – he is a busy boy. Now we get some additional lines stolen from Act 4 scene 3. After Warwick and Surrey have calmed the King, Rumour arrives to inform him that Northumberland and several of the king’s other enemies are dead. To prove it, he carries a bloody head in a sack, and throws it at the king’s feet, just as happened at the end of Richard II. The king then takes a funny turn, not too surprisingly, given his guilt at Richard’s death, and possibly even at his deposing. I wasn’t aware that this was a tweak to the text at the time. It just seemed to flow naturally, and made sense of the King’s condition. Following this, Richard II himself appeared on the upper story of the metal drum, and after the lords left, Henry stood, looking at Richard, as the ashes/dust/sand fell from above on his head. Blackout. I liked this ending to the first half, which I’m confident is new since the summer.

I was getting a bit worried in the interval, as I’d told a number of people that there was something worth watching on stage before the second half started, and it seemed to take a long time to get going. But eventually we were treated to Davey (Matt Costain) giving us his silent comedy version of putting up the bunting. Just as good as before, and this time there was a strapping young man in the vicinity to help him get back on his ladder.

This sets the scene very well for Shallow’s orchard, the first time we see the Gloucestershire part of the play. I’m often surprised by how late some scenes appear, and how little we see of some characters, and I reflected that my memory of the previous performance had left me thinking that there were more rural scenes, and that they came much earlier. Ah well, so much for my memory. Still, it means I’m constantly surprised, and often delighted, when I watch plays again, so maybe it’s no bad thing.

I found this the best Shallow and Silence I had seen when we attended in the summer, and I wasn’t disappointed this time either. These scenes, plus Hal’s performance, were the best things tonight for me. Shallow was just as lascivious, Silence just as laconic, and I’m grateful that Michael Boyd hasn’t found a way to add pongorama to his theatrical toolkit, otherwise Mouldy would have been assaulting all our nostrils for real. I still hanker to have a bird falling from the sky after Mouldy has discharged his musket, but maybe that’s too ‘cheep’ for Michael Boyd. (Sadly, ‘cheep’ puns are not too cheap for me.) Unfortunately, I find myself preferring Shallow and Silence to Falstaff in this production, therefore it’s not so easy to enjoy his desire to gull them. The suggestion that maybe Falstaff and Shallow have enjoyed a sexually intimate relationship when at St Clements Inn is clearly expressed in Shallow’s leering when talking about a night they spent together, although as they also talk about  a “bona roba” at this point, it may have been a really wild night!

Next we have the betrayal and capture of the remaining rebels (they’re dropping fast), which was less clear, but still got across the rebels’ stupidity in trusting Prince John. More specifically, the Archbishop’s stupidity – some of the others are not happy to send their troops away. This ups the stakes, and shows a greater level of ruthlessness which will only get worse as civil strife reasserts itself a play and bit away.

The next scene, where Falstaff accepts the surrender of Sir John Colville, is straightforward, but relatively uninteresting apart from Falstaff’s paean on the virtues of sherry sack, which is good fun. Now we return to the dying King, and another good scene where we get to see Henry and Hal’s final reconciliation before Hal becomes Henry V. I very much liked the way Geoffrey Streatfeild shows us Hal having to learn to be a king. So often, once his father dies, his heir simply rips off his cloak and becomes Superking in an instant. Here we get to see the process he’s going through, dealing with his father’s death and what that means on a personal level, as well as the massive change it makes in his life by giving him the crown. Steve saw an echo in the way Hal is lying on the bed beside his father as they’re wheeled off, to the original way Hal and Falstaff first arrived on stage, lying side by side on a bed. I noticed that Hal and the king hold the crown on either side, just as Richard and Henry do in the deposition scene in Richard II. I felt Clive Wood is showing more of the King’s vulnerability and how the illness is affecting his mind, while Geoffrey Streatfeild is showing much more of Hal’s emotional state.

After a short trip back to Gloucestershire, we see Hal’s first steps as king. The court, in the persons of Hal’s brothers, Warwick, and the LCJ, are gravely concerned about the new king’s likely attitude. Hal himself has clearly not yet grown into his kingship, and this is emphasised throughout this scene. The most telling example is Hal’s treatment of the LCJ. Initially, the new king is angry about his earlier treatment at the LCJ’s hands, even clenching his fists in anger, but the LCJ’s arguments win him over, and the new king realises not only that he still has a lot to learn, but that he needs the help and guidance the LCJ can provide. It’s an interesting demonstration of his character’s growth, but more is to come.

The last scene in Gloucestershire gives us a chance to laugh before the emotional finale. Silence has obviously had too much to drink, and is no longer silent, breaking into song every few minutes. Davey is cooking apples on a fire pit, and the rest are busy trying to join Silence in drunkenness, despite Davey’s procrastination in dishing out refills, when Pistol arrives with news of the King’s death and Hal’s succession. Off they all trot, full of the expectation of plenty. Shakespeare cunningly undercuts this immediately, by showing us Doll Tearsheet and Mistress Quickly being dragged off to prison, despite Doll being pregnant by a sofa.

After the coronation, the procession of the king and his court comes down the spiral staircase from the top level. As King Henry reaches the balcony, Falstaff calls out to him, and receives his rebuke and rejection. This costs Henry dearly. It’s clear he’s torn. Although he knows he has to reject Falstaff to fully claim his new life, he doesn’t want to hurt him as such, and the emotional cost is clear on his face. After the rabble have been imprisoned in the big wire cage, Henry reappears at the front of the stage, looking directly at Falstaff, and they stare at each other for a long moment, as the LCJ and Prince John, on the balcony, prepare us for the next play. Finally, Henry turns away, and stands alone at the front of the stage as the lights go out. It’s a very good visual and emotional image to end on.

One point I missed going through – at the start of these plays, members of the cast have been coming on to ask the audience to switch off mobiles, etc. Tonight it was the turn of Hal himself, and Geoffrey Streatfeild did a lovely bit of hesitation before announcing which play was on tonight, as if he couldn’t quite remember. Also, immediately after his father’s death, Hal appears dressed in black to talk to his brothers and the LCJ. This is the only time he wears this colour in this production, and for me it signals his change of allegiance, as well as simply being his mourning clothes. For the coronation, however, he’s back to his splendid white, so it won’t just be business as usual with this king. Roll on tomorrow and Henry V.

© 2008 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

The Seagull – December 2007

6/10

By: Anton Chekov

Directed by: Trevor Nunn

Company: RSC

Venue: New London Theatre

Date: Saturday 22nd December 2007

I had hoped to see some improvement from the previous performance of this production that we saw in Stratford, but apart from one or two details, it was pretty much the same, still lacking that warmth and empathy that would help me enjoy it more.

Like the King Lear, the different acting space helped a bit, as it all seemed much closer than before, and our seats gave us a good view of the stage. The detail in the servants’ comings and goings was more noticeable this time, but I didn’t catch anything extra in the main performances; they were just as good as before. The main difference was that this time William Gaunt was playing Sorin, and his portrayal was less doddery. As a result, the lines came across better, although he had to fade pretty fast by the end.

Frances Barber wasn’t limping this time, but she wasn’t throwing herself about quite so much either, as I recall. I still enjoyed her performance, and still felt very distanced from the events and characters. It’s a shame, perhaps, but maybe the next production will show me something different.

© 2007 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Fantastic Mr Fox – December 2007

6/10

Adapted by Sarah Woods from the story by Roald Dahl

Directed by: Steve Tiplady

Company: Little Angel Theatre

Venue: Stratford Civic Hall

Date: Thursday 20th December 2007

This was one of those shows where adults like us can feel a bit out of place, turning up without any kids in tow. Who cares! We’re always keen to enjoy ourselves, and as we’d liked the Venus and Adonis that Little Angle Theatre did as part of the Complete Works, we decided to give this a go as well.

It was great fun. We were in the minority – most of the audience were significantly under ten – but that didn’t matter a bit, although we might choose less conspicuous seats next time. Right in the middle of the front row was a bit obvious. It led to me being the strange ‘thing’ Mr Fox warned his cub not to go near, as he didn’t know where I’d been!

The Civic Hall had been transformed from when we’d seen Noughts and Crosses. The only seating was what had been the central block before, and the puppet theatre took up the front of the acting space. There was a jumble of screens, boxes, sheets, and walkways, which I can’t possibly describe in detail. The set also came to pieces – flaps opened up to show us the foxes tunnelling underground, and as the nasty farmers dug down to try and catch them, that part of the set was gradually taken away to show how far down they’d dug. A section on the left became the food store in the third farmer’s cellar. There were lots of cider bottles, and a mouse which was obviously very happy as it could drink itself silly whenever it liked.

The story is all about how Mr Fox (the fantastic Mr Fox) saves his family and steals loads of food from the three farmers who are so mean they want to kill Mr Fox and his family to stop them eating any more of their livestock. He’s a great tunneller, so he can dig himself and the family out of pretty much any difficulty. His kids follow him and have a great time seeing their daddy at work, but there are a few close shaves. Will Mr Fox save his family? And will they have enough to eat? Of course they do. It all ends happily with the farmers trounced, the foxes and their friends happy and safe, and lots and lots of delicious food to eat. Given that the rabbits have also been invited to the feast, I was a bit concerned that some of the guests might not make it back home, but this one’s for the kids, so let’s not go there.

The puppetry was fabulous again. We could see the puppeteers clearly, as they were in the light the whole time, and wearing ordinary but plain clothes. They also did the voices, and had to be pretty dextrous to manage all the various puppets that were moving around at the same time. Once again, I could have sworn the expressions on the puppets’ faces changed, but of course they didn’t. Different sizes of puppets were used at different times, to give a sense of perspective, and yes, I did get Steve to buy one of the cuddly Mr Fox’s on offer in the shop afterwards (he’s so cute!). (That’s the fox, by the way, although Steve’s pretty attractive too.)

I can’t comment on individual performers here, as I wasn’t really paying attention to them at all – how on earth do we do this thing in our brains where we can see people moving the puppets and completely ignore them like they’re not there? But it was very good fun, and entirely suitable for adults as well as kids. So there.

© 2007 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

The Unexpected Guest – November 2007

6/10

By: Agatha Christie

Directed by: Joe Harmston

Venue: Connaught Theatre

Date: Tuesday 20th November 2007

We’d seen this play before, but again we couldn’t remember all the details. We remembered enough for the denouement not to be unexpected, but we still enjoyed the evening.

The set was a massive sweep of white curtains, covering enough windows to keep a double glazing salesman happy for years, and some furniture. The setting was clearly 1950s. Above the windows were three large panels with African scenes – the victim was previously a big game hunter out there – and during scene changes we were treated to some African drumming and chanting. All a giant red herring, of course.

The plot was straightforward enough – no need to give anything away here – and the parts were well enough played. Sergeant Cadwallader, the Welsh policeman, had apparently done a stint in the Met, but otherwise the performances fitted well. Richard Blackwood was particularly entertaining as the victim’s personal servant; he reminded me of Paterson Joseph, and he got plenty of humour out of the part.

The start was a surprise – the lights went out suddenly, and there were several loud shots, which sent the audience into paroxysms of twittering; a little too much, if you ask me, although it was a good effect. This was definitely a cut above the average Christie production, and a good evening at the theatre.

© 2007 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Romantic Comedy – November 2007

6/10

By: Bernard Slade

Directed by: Tom Conti

Venue: Yvonne Arnaud Theatre

Date: Monday 12th November 2007

We enjoyed revisiting this play, which we first saw years ago, also with Tom Conti. I don’t remember a lot of details – the set seemed more spread out, and less obviously an apartment with a view, as it was tonight, but I found the story coming back to me as we watched.

The story is of a comedy writer (Conti) who enters into two partnerships on the same day – the first with a new writing collaborator, a young woman who’s got a huge crush on him, and the second to a wife, who ends up leaving him as he’s not really the marrying sort. The play is all about the writers’ relationship, and their failure to turn it into a romantic attachment as well as a professional one.

There are still a lot of funny lines, and the cast did very well with them. I liked Kate Atkinson as Phoebe Craddock. She got across all her character’s innocence and awkwardness, as well as showing her development through the play. She was a very focused presence throughout. I also adore Eleanor David (the agent) as an actress – she’s so smooth and elegant, and delivers her lines effortlessly while looking rapturously beautiful.

There was a presentation at the end of the performance. The local paper had run a competition, and Tom Conti presented the lucky winner with a bouquet of flowers, lucky lady, and after a few piccies and some more applause, we were off. Good fun, though it’s showing its age a bit.

© 2007 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

The Emperor Jones – October 2007

6/10

By: Eugene O’Neill

Directed by: Thea Sharrock

Venue: Olivier Theatre

Date: Tuesday 30th October 2007

This was a pretty unusual O’Neill play, one we may not see again for a long time. It was experimental for its time, which makes it seem quite modern. The play looks at racism, oppression, and the effect this sort of abuse has on the human psyche. We see the Emperor at the point where his subjects have deserted him, and are about to boot him out. He flees, and his journey through a forest takes him, and us, through a montage of experiences, some from his own past, some even earlier. We see his escape from a chain gang after killing a guard, a slave auction, and what I think must have been part of a journey across the Atlantic on a slave ship. As all these ghosts appear, he fires off his bullets, until only the silver one is left, the one he’s keeping for himself. Finally, the madness drives him to kill himself, and the natives of his former realm achieve their goal without appearing to have done anything.

The play is basically a one-man piece, and demands a great deal from the lead actor. There are a few other speaking parts, and a dancing role, but Brutus Jones dominates from early on. Fortunately, Patterson Joseph is well up to the challenge, and gives an excellent performance as the swaggerer brought low by his own fears and fantasies. He’s a charming rogue, and it’s easy to see how he could have hoodwinked the natives on his island, but his lies catch up with him, and he can’t handle being alone in the forest. The other parts mainly serve to pad out his story, as with the white trader who helped him after he escaped from the chain gang.

The set was fantastic, and was another good example of how to use the vast Olivier stage. A central disc was surrounded by a crescent slope. The back wall of the central part had steps leading up to a platform with a gaudy throne, and not much else, apart from a carpet and a couple of doorways. After an initial scene where the white trader meets the last woman to run away from the emperor, there’s a long conversation between the trader and Brutus Jones, during which we learn all we need to know of his past. He’s already laid plans to escape once the natives rumble him, only he didn’t think it would be so soon. Still, he’s confident, and sets off for the forest sure that he’ll make it to a waiting ship.

For the forest scenes, the back walls are lifted away, and another disc, ragged this time, descends to form a sloping roof to the action. It’s a patchwork of corrugated iron, interwoven with wood and other materials, with strategic slits which allow the moonlight to shine through. Along with the lighting, it gave the whole stage an eerie feel. And in the background was the constant beat of the drums, enough to drive anyone mad.

For this part, Patterson Joseph had to be fit, as he spent a lot of it running around the place. I spotted the black men secretively creeping onto the stage a good while before they clambered onto the disc and started to form the chain gang – this all added to the spookiness. The final arrival of the natives looking for him gave us some lively dancing, and then the expected end – there was no way Emperor Jones was getting out of this alive.

While it was interesting to see this style of a play from this period, I wouldn’t say it was a complete success. The performances were great, especially the lead, of course, but that was all there really was to it. The points about slavery and abuse leading to more abuse were well made, but without any real context to give the play greater substance. On the whole, I left feeling glad I’d seen the play, and the performances, but not entirely satisfied with the afternoon.

© 2007 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Woza Albert! – October 2007

6/10

By: Percy Mtwa, Mbongeni Ngema, and Barney Simon

Directed by: Paul Jonathan Savage

Venue: Mill Studio, Guildford

Date: Saturday 27th October 2007

Two black actors sang, danced, spoke and sound-effected their way through this entertaining piece, based on the idea of Jesus Christ coming back and going to South Africa. They had round pink things hanging round their necks (ooh, you are awful), which turned out to be pink noses, so they could “white up” at a moment’s notice and play the non-black characters as well. They started off with a representation of a jazz band – very lively, very good, then we got to meet the characters we’ll be following through the play. Mbongeni, a Zulu with a preference for dancing over work, and Percy, who sings hymns in his sleep and believes Jesus is watching over him and everyone else. They used Jesus’ African name, Morena, throughout the play, but we got who they meant.

These characters, and a host of others, show us how Jesus would be treated if he had returned during South Africa’s apartheid period. Many black folk were seen to be waiting for his return, wanting things like jobs, bricks, and even a lollipop – that one was a young girl. The white folk were smug at first, reckoning his return made them look important, but then they decided his message wasn’t so useful, so first they imprisoned him, and then they tried to bomb him, but only ended up smashing Cape Town to smithereens. They’d forgotten that the Archangels were at His beck and call, so Gabriel kept springing him out of prison, even Robben Island, where they apparently had anti-angel missiles.

Finally, Christ wakes up in a cemetery, where Mbongeni is now working, and to keep his hand in, decides to revive a few corpses. Mbongeni takes him round to all the dead black leaders – Albert Luthuli, Steve Biko, etc – and he wakes them with a call of “Woza Albert” (or whatever). When Jesus spots the grave of Verwoerd, he’s about to woza him as well, but Mbongeni steers him away, understandably.

Apart from the amazing energy and talents of the two actors, what impressed me most was the amount of humour they were getting out of some appalling situations. Even at the time it must have been funny, and I guess it just shows how important it is to keep laughing through even the bleakest times. I didn’t feel uncomfortable about laughing, just surprised. I’ve learned a lot about humour this week (see Parade), and it’s all good.

© 2007 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me