Category Archives: 6/10

My Wonderful Day – January 2010

6/10

Written and directed by Alan Ayckbourn

Venue: Yvonne Arnaud Theatre

Date: Friday 29th January 2010

I missed the last half hour of this – making us go an hour and three quarters without an interval was a step too far for me, especially in this cold weather. Still, I got a pretty good idea of the production with what I saw, and while it’s not Ayckbourn’s best, it does have some funny moments and one truly outstanding performance.

The set was basic black, with venetian blinds everywhere instead of walls, and three distinct house areas – lounge in the middle, kitchen to the left and possibly study(?) to the right. The lighting established each one, and a row of diamond lights showed us the corridors. Despite Laverne extolling the loveliness of the house, the cheap plastic coffee table and uncomfortable-looking settee suggested something much more downmarket – I’ve no idea if that was intentional.

The plot is simple, although it took me a while to get the hang of Laverne’s delivery, so I may have missed some salient points. Laverne does for Kevin and Paula, and she’s turned up to do her stint one day with her nine year old daughter Winnie in tow. It just so happens that this is the day when Kevin becomes aware that his marriage has imploded.

Winnie is off school because she’s ill, though many doctors might struggle to diagnose her condition. She tries her best to sit quietly and do her homework – an essay entitled ‘my wonderful day’ – but is constantly being interrupted by various adults. It’s a Tuesday, and on Tuesdays she and her mother speak French, so although her mother has claimed an exemption while she’s working, Winnie’s expected to talk in French, which leads to some predictable fun and games.

Kevin is trying to find out what’s happened to Paula, and in the process utters some language not normally considered suitable for young ears. His secretary/lover Tiffany has turned up, and in an attempt to protect Winnie, takes her off to the study. After some rather tedious revelations about her own loneliness, she decides to show Winnie a short film that Kevin has made, advertising the merits of a retail/business complex. Unfortunately, Paula got there first, and so after a few minutes (mercifully soon), the film changes to an expose by an embittered wife of her husband’s infidelity and shady business practices. At least, I assume the shady business practices would have been exposed – Tiffany stopped the DVD as fast as she could once the revelation about Kevin and her being sexually involved popped out.

The rest of the play concerned Laverne going off to hospital to have her next baby (she was due in ten days, so not that early), and the resulting effect on the remaining adults of having a nine year old kid to look after. From the laughter I could hear, I clearly missed the best bits, so perhaps I can catch this again on its tour.

Steve did tell me the rest of the story when he got out, but I won’t put it here as I’ve not experienced it myself. The performances were all good, of course, but I did think Ayesha Antoine as Winnie simply stole the show. She was totally believable as a nine-year-old kid, and the expressions on her face while Tiffany was absorbed in the DVD were priceless.

© 2010 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Darker Shores – December 2009

6/10

By Michael Punter

Directed by Anthony Clark

Venue: Hampstead Theatre

Date: Saturday 12th December 2009

The set for this piece was wonderfully atmospheric, and completely suited a Victorian Christmas ghost story, with several banisters going across parts of the stage at various angles and many layers of black curtain swags. Very creepy, and all in black. The central space had a bed over to the left, a table which kept fairly central but did get moved a couple of times, a bureau back right and several very creepy statues on plinths which were covered with black cloth. The back left area was concealed by a curtain, and could be either the French windows to an otherwise inaccessible terrace or an open space, used for the golf course or similar. To the right was a big black door, which could open on its own if required. The scene was set for thrills and terror.

This play opens with two men. One, Tom Beauregard, an American of the Southern persuasion, claims to be a medium and a Doctor of Spiritual Science. The other, Gabriel Stokes, is a scientist, a natural history professor at Cambridge and keen to write a book that will, once and for all, completely refute Darwin’s preposterous assertion that man is descended from apes by distilling the evidence against from that authoritative scientific tome, the Bible. Not the brightest chimp at the tea party, then.

Her does, however, have an intriguing experience which he wants help with. The story was a bit complicated, and I’m sure I didn’t get all of it, but the gist is this. Stokes, who has lost both his wife and young child, was staying at an old house somewhere on the bleak and desolate Sussex coast. (Bleak and desolate? Sussex?) The house had previously been owned by a chap who was now dead, but who had created a beautiful garden terrace outside his window accessible only through the French windows in his room. A subsequent owner had been involved in dubious practices, despite being a missionary, and had disappeared in Africa, presumed dead. His housekeeper, Mrs Hinchcliffe, still looked after the place and took in paying guests, hence Mr Stokes’s involvement.

Lodged in the very room with the garden terrace outside and dominated by the creepy statues, it’s not long before Stokes is disturbed by lots of banging about in the room above, which had been the missing-in-Africa owner’s workroom. Nobody else hears these banging noises, and then Stokes sees a figure at the windows. He’s pretty scared by all of this, naturally enough (I was holding Steve’s hand a fair bit throughout this play) so he asks Beauregard to come down to Sussex and sort the whole thing out.

Beauregard is keen enough at first, but when Stokes uncovers his trickery during their first séance he decides to leave immediately. A chat with Mrs Hinchcliffe changes his mind, and during an attempt to contact the deceased spirit by the others (Stokes, Mrs H and the maid, Florence) Beauregard returns to witness the denouement.

I must admit the arrival of the ‘ghost’ was very well done, and the choice Stokes makes was pretty much inevitable. While it wasn’t as scary as The Woman In Black, it still had its chills, along with several funny lines and excellent performances from all. The only thing holding it back was the lack of response from the audience who seemed a bit sluggish.

© 2009 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Mother Courage And Her Children – December 2009

6/10

By Bertolt Brecht, translated by Tony Kushner

Directed by Deborah Warner

Venue: Olivier Theatre

Date: Saturday 5th December 2009

Straight off I was worried by the setup, especially the droning music in the background. Actually, it was more like the foreground. It was a really unpleasant sound, and, like the Therese Raquin earlier (Lyttelton, November 2006) I was considering leaving, only this time it would have been before the play began!

The set suggested some kind of protest situation, with an area roped off, cones and tape everywhere, and an industrial feel to the stage. When the play started, with the army recruiters meeting up to discuss business, the music stopped (thankfully), but the stage was the same. It was only at Mother Courage’s entrance that things started to liven up.

The gaping hole in the middle of the stage allowed a platform to be raised up, and on it was the travelling van Mother Courage used to peddle her wares. It was being pulled by two of her children, and once it had reached stage level, it went on a long journey round the place. All the while, Mother Courage (Fiona Shaw) was standing on top of the van, singing her song, wearing a peculiar costume which suggested both modern and old, and demonstrating her star status with a pair of sunglasses. The musicians may also have started to appear on stage around this time, as they frequently did. The band, led by Duke Special, did some excellent numbers throughout, ranging across styles, and making the production much more entertaining.

The sets changed frequently, always using the simplest techniques to create the locations. For an army tent, one canvas sheet would be lowered, with flaps for windows and doors. There were more elaborate pieces for the scene where Courage’s daughter warns the sleeping townsfolk, and often the van was the centre of it all. We were also treated to short readings by Gore Vidal of the bits between the scenes, telling us what was happening in the war, and what life was like for the people (usually dire). Brecht’s dry wit shone through, despite the horrors being related.

Fiona Shaw’s performance was excellent. She gave us a very clear picture of a woman who thought she was taking advantage of the war, but who was completely caught up in it, and eventually almost destroyed by it. Her family certainly was, as all three children died as a result of the war, and she was left alone, trying to keep going.  Her courage and brazen rapaciousness were both attractive and repellent, but it’s her greed for life that stands out most for me. Even after the beating that life gives her, she’s still battling on, perhaps stupidly, and perhaps bringing about her own downfall, but still keeping on. And clearly a punk, as Fiona’s dancing during one of the numbers indicated.

The other performances were also good, and I’m glad I stayed to watch it, but even so, it’s still Brecht, and there were lots of tedious patches which simply had to be endured. I also find it difficult to relate to these characters, which reduces my enjoyment, but for those who like this sort of thing, I suspect this was a very good production. It certainly got an enthusiastic response from the audience, and I’m glad to report that there were plenty of youngsters around us today.

© 2009 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Uncle Vanya – November 2009

6/10

By Anton Chekov, translated by Stephen Mulrine

Directed by Andrew Hilton

Company: SATTF & Bristol Old Vic

Venue: Bristol Old Vic

Date: Friday 13th November 2009

I was a bit disappointed with this production. I liked the thrust stage, and the minimalist set design was fine as were the costumes, but I just couldn’t relate to the characters and their plight. It seemed to fall between two stools, the comic approach and the serious one and never quite got off the ground as a result. I will also say that the seats we were in, although they gave us a good view, were dreadfully cramped – I hope the refurbishment makes it a more comfortable place to sit. But it is a lovely little theatre, and I wish them every success in giving it the TLC it so clearly needs.

The post-show was an added bonus; they don’t usually announce these until long after we’ve bought our tickets, so it was a lovely surprise to find we’d booked exactly the right performance. The cast and director were there, of course, and the audience were suitably enthusiastic, with a good mix of ages. There was one chap on stage who’s involved in the revamp, and he told us some interesting things about the process, and either he or Andrew Hilton explained that thrust stages had disappeared because of health and safety concerns. Back in the days of wooden buildings a theatre had caught fire and killed lots of people so they brought in a law that introduced the safety curtain to every theatre. All naked flames had to be behind the curtain so that if there was a fire the audience could get out OK (shame about the actors, but that’s life). Since the only available lighting was limelight it meant the footlights at the front of the stage had to be moved back, which meant that actors who came in front of the proscenium arch could no longer be seen clearly and the front part of the stage was therefore redundant and disappeared. Now that we have the magic of electrical lights we can have the actors doing all sorts, swinging from the roof, leaping across the seats, strutting their stuff down aisles and round the back; you name it, an actor has probably performed from that very place. Fascinating stuff.

So a good night out in that we ‘discovered’ a lovely new theatre, learned some interesting things in the post-show, and semi-enjoyed the performance itself.

© 2009 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Adolf Hitler: My Part In His Downfall – October 2009

6/10

Based on the war memoirs of Spike Milligan, adapted for the stage by Ben Power and Tim Carroll

Directed by Tim Carroll

Venue: Chichester Festival Theatre

Date: Saturday 24th October 2009

This was a wonderful music-and-humour-fest of Spike Milligan’s writings, at least the part relating to his war experiences. The singing and dancing were superb, the humour was patchy, but still very good, and the anarchic style fitted very well with the style of the writing. My biggest problem was that I simply couldn’t make out a lot of the lines, as some of them were spoken, or even shouted while the band was playing, and this either drowned out the words or made them hard to distinguish. It seemed to be easier during the second half – don’t know if this was because they changed the balance or because we were more adjusted to it.

There was one bit of audience participation during the second half – trepidation amongst those of us (like me!) foolish enough to sit on the centre aisle – but a lovely young lady called Genevieve was tonight’s lucky participant. She correctly guessed, by looking at a playing card, which card it was! Much applause.

All the cast were hugely talented, of course, but the central role of Spike was played by a newcomer, Sholto Morgan, and if this is anything to go by, he’s got a great career ahead of him. Sadly, talent alone is not enough, so I just hope he gets the breaks he deserves. He conveyed Spike’s gangliness and wide-eyed innocent mischievousness brilliantly, as well as playing a mean trumpet.

I suspect the wide open spaces of the Festival Theatre may have been a bit too much for this production – perhaps the Minerva would have suited it better? – but at least it got a good audience, who were very appreciative of both the fun and the talent on display. Good luck for the rest of the run.

© 2009 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Murder On Air – October 2009

6/10

By Agatha Christie

Directed by Joe Harmston

Company: The Agatha Christie Theatre Company

Venue: Connaught Theatre

Date: Friday 16th October 2009

In similar fashion to the Round The Horne homage currently touring, this ‘play’ was basically a reconstruction of three Agatha Christie radio plays from the 50s, performed with the cast in full evening regalia, and with a wonderful sound effects man to one side. The three radio plays were Personal Call, The Yellow Iris, and after the interval, Butter In A Lordly Dish (it helps to know your Bible for that one).

This version of the production had Susan Penhaligon and Nicky Henson as the guest stars, and Nicky took the part of Poirot in The Yellow Iris (which later morphed into Sparkling Cyanide). The rest of the cast did a great job with their parts, including sound effects (train), background rhubarb, and shocked gasps. There was a piece of attempted humour with the music, as one of the men appeared to lose his instrument and his place, but it fell a bit flat tonight as nobody seemed to notice it and nobody laughed. The house was less than half full, so I think the lack of atmosphere had a lot to do with it.

The stories were fairly predictable. Let’s face it, a soon as you know a chap’s first wife has died in a tragic accident, and he and his second wife are making wills leaving all their dosh to each other, it’s pretty clear what’s happening. Even so, I enjoyed the way the stories were told, especially when two of the actors were talking in cockney accents while they were all dolled up in their finery. For the end of the final story, when the sound effects chap was hitting a nail into a cabbage, he kept doing it, harder and harder, as he made the closing announcement. The cabbage practically disintegrated – Steve even found a bit of cabbage on his coat at the end, and we were back in row H! I also realised why I don’t care to listen to plays on the radio. The voices, despite the actors’ different accents, are too similar. It’s easier for me to keep track of the characters and the scene changes when I can see them.

© 2009 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

The Signalman – September 2009

6/10

By John Goodrum, based on the short story by Charles Dickens

Directed by John Goodrum

Venue: Connaught Theatre

Date: Tuesday 15th September 2009

I vaguely remember reading a ghost story involving a signalman many years ago, but I was basically ignorant of what would happen tonight. As it was I found myself drawn in to the stories told by the two characters, the signalman and his visitor, and the denouement gave both of us a shiver.

The staging was very good, I thought. The arch of a railway tunnel was centre back, with a red light high beside it on the left. High rocky walls enclosed the cutting on either side, while the signalman’s hut was front right. The lighting emphasised each location as the action shifted between outside and inside. The signalman’s hut had few furnishings, but the telegraph signal machine was prominent.

I very much liked the way they showed a train coming through the tunnel. A white light shining from within the tunnel indicated the train, and there was be some smoke and steam coming out as well. Then the lighting flickered over the set like the light from passing carriage windows as the train rushed past, together with the appropriate sound effects. It was an impressive way to deal with it, and certainly got my imagination fully engaged. I realised after a few of these that the signalman was looking up at the train because he was at ground level, not on a platform.

The opening scene was well done, creating just the right sense of chill, as only the visitor was talking. The signalman’s reaction, apparently frozen with fear, got my nerves tingling and the spooky sound of the visitor’s calls from on high at the start also contributed to this. I gather this tour had only started about a week ago which explains why the signalman was having difficulty remembering his lines, and didn’t always deliver the ones he could remember as clearly as I would have liked, but we got the gist and given that the signalman was meant to be a man in the grip of a strong emotional quandary the mixing up of a few words was entirely in keeping. The visitor was perfectly clear, and with the excellent staging this made for an enjoyable and slightly scary evening.

© 2009 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Crooked Wood – September 2009

6/10

By Gillian Plowman, based on the BBC TV film “Number 27” by Michael Palin

Directed by Anthony Falkingham

Company: Jill Freud Company

Venue: Yvonne Arnaud Theatre

Date: Friday 11th September 2009

This was a good, fun evening. Again, a play which had originally been written around twenty years ago proved remarkably accurate for today. An old lady, Miss Barwick (Jill Freud), resists the pressures of unscrupulous property developers to sell the only house she’s ever lived in, and along the way we get some laughs and even some cheering (when the villain of the piece fell through the stairs). And a couple who were headed down the wrong path get a chance to change their lives, and that of their soon-to-be child, for the better.

The set was remarkable for such a small-scale production. A door with entrance hall on the left, stairs hidden behind the wall next to it, panelling and a door off to our right, and lots of furniture and ornaments representing the clutter of several generations, though in this case a lot of them were valuable antiques.

Jill Freud played the fluffy but shrewd old lady very well. It was a treat to see how she dodged all the awkward questions, and used every tool in the book to get the men visiting her to fix up the house, now falling into a serious state of neglect. Richard Gibson played Andrew Veitch, the ruthless developer who finds it impossible to use his nastiest tactics on the dear old lady, especially when she tells him her father left a lot of money to Barnardo’s when he died, Veitch being an orphan brought up by that institution. (Personally, I’d ask to see a copy of the will, but he drank it in like mother’s milk.)

His wife, Sally (Penelope Rawlins) works for Sotheby’s, and is busy revamping their expensive house, spending all her husband’s hard earned money before it’s actually been earned. She’s particularly touched by Miss Barwick’s generosity, giving her a lot of old books which she knows how to restore and care for. There’s also a public spirited chap called Quentin Gilbey, who used to work with Andrew when they were both young and idealistic. Now he’s qualified as a lawyer, and spends his time helping other ordinary people block the rapacious schemes of property developers. He’s happy to help Miss Barwick when the developers’ man on the council slaps a notice on the house for being unsafe.

Finally, the piece wouldn’t be the same without a nasty piece of work, and in this case it’s a chap called Murray Lester (Simon Snashall). He’s Andrew’s boss, and spends at least half of his time with his mobile clamped to his ear and the other half telling Andrew to get a move on. Swearing is not so much optional as mandatory, and it’s his accident with the stairs, after a pretty vicious attack on the old girl, that gets the cheer. One of the best lines closed the first half, when Miss Barwick answered Andrew’s phone for him, and reports Lester’s message verbatim: “Don’t take all fucking day.”

© 2009 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Strictly Murder – September 2009

6/10

By Brian Clemens

Directed by Ian Dickens

Company: Ian Dickens Productions

Venue: Yvonne Arnaud Theatre

Date: Friday 4th September 2009

A nice twist at the end made this thriller a bit above average. I recognised the set from September Tide back in April 2007; there was a strange raised area at the back, with two steps down to the front of the stage, but only in one central place. Very distinctive. Fortunately, this piece was much better than that one.

Set in Provence in 1939, the play sets up the idea that the young man, Peter Meredith, living in the cottage with a young woman, Suzy Hinchcliffe, is not all he seems to be. There’s mention of some scars on his back which look like wounds caused by barbed wire, there’s speculation that there are German spies operating in France, and he seems to be keen to listen for news on the radio about the possibility of war. There’s an old German guy called Josef who wanders around taking food and leaving flowers and carrying a gun. Is he a German spy, or just an old man still suffering from the effects of his service in the First World War? Then a man called Ross comes calling, having recognised the style of painting that Peter produces, referring to the way his cell had been decorated with them, and Peter is forced to take some drastic steps to stay free.

That was in April 1939, and with the second half we move forward several months. Back in April Suzy had announced that she was pregnant, and Peter had been less than enthusiastic about the prospect. Now a man called Ross turns up again with a woman called Miller, and tells Suzy the story of who Peter really is and why it’s not safe for a young woman to be carrying his baby. He arranges with her to set a trap for Peter but will she be able to carry it out?

The Miller role was being played by Georgina Sutton tonight instead of Sabina Franklyn – a last minute thing, I suspect. All the performances were fine and despite one or two remarkable coincidences it was believable enough, with a bit more depth to the central characters. A good evening out.

© 2009 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Troilus And Cressida – September 2009

6/10

By William Shakespeare

Directed by Matthew Dunster

Venue: Shakespeare’s Globe

Date: Wednesday 2nd September 2009

“War and lechery” is what this play’s usually about, and we got plenty of that today. We also got a good reading of the central relationship, and a running time of less than three hours for which my behind was very thankful.

The set projected forward of the stage again, with a curved edge. A narrowing channel ran from the ground level at the far side of the stage up at an angle almost to our side, with the slope allowing additional access to the stage. There was a square platform in front of the regular balcony, draped with cloth above and with curtains at each pillar below. The two main pillars were also concealed behind cloth wraps which made them look like, well, pillars, and the whole floor seemed to be covered with gray tarpaulin which had been painted with the odd bluish streak to resemble marble. It looked odd to begin with, but we were soon caught up in the story and the well wrapped set, with its hidden surprises, soon became an important part of the performance.

The unfolding of fabrics was a key part of this. While there were some armour storage solutions brought on from time to time, the main changes were brought about by drawing curtains, lifting up cloth to make the top of a tent, displaying a map of Greece, and using a long piece of green material to wrap around a pillar for Pandarus’s orchard. There may have been other things I’ve forgotten now, but the best bit was probably near the end. When Troilus comes on shouting about Hector’s death (Hector’s body is lying in the channel, with a decent-sized trickle of blood running down from it) black streamers fell down each pillar in the auditorium, simultaneously, and so abruptly that the audience gasped. It was a good effect, and overall it was one of the most active sets I’ve seen here.

The story was pretty active too, with plenty of sword fighting to keep us amused. Thersites’ initial description of the situation was illustrated with soldiers from both camps – Greeks in blue and Trojans in purple (makes a nice change from red). They didn’t fight, but did some practice manoeuvres (i.e. dances) instead. They didn’t hold back when it came to the actual battles, though.

The love story between Troilus and Cressida developed nicely, with Matthew Kelly as Pandarus giving a tremendous performance. I could hear every word and understood most of it too, even without the occasional lewd gesture to help it along. His own affection for Troilus was pretty clear, and I noticed how much he was concerned for that young man rather than his niece when the news of the exchange arrived. He made the most of every funny line, and was the best thing on the stage.

Cressida seemed a bit too lively at the start, running around all over the stage for no apparent reason, but at least this time we knew what she really felt about Troilus. As the story developed, particularly when she was first brought into the Greek camp, she came into her own and her vivacity and wit fell into place. I felt sorry for her, and I was very aware of a sense of menace in her situation in the Greek camp; she seemed to be looking towards Diomed for protection, and although she regretted being unfaithful to Troilus I couldn’t see what other choices she had.

Troilus was manly enough and not as silly as I’ve sometimes seen before. The Greeks were all fine, with the exception of Thersites, who delivered his lines in such a straightforward way that much of the humour disappeared. However he did add in one or two bits of his own, such as picking up debris from the battle and declaring “Trojan war memorabilia” then trying to sell it to the audience. Ajax was wonderfully full of himself, and it was good to see Jamie Ballard again, this time playing Ulysses, the crafty Greek who manipulates Achilles so well. These machinations were good fun, especially with Ajax strutting his stuff. I found Trystan Gravelle’s Achilles a bit wimpy myself – he clearly needed the benefit of his dip in the river Styx to be able to survive in battle. I also find that the Globe’s policy of letting each actor use their own accent contributes to the lack of clarity in the dialogue, as it not only takes me longer to tune in to a variety of accents, but some accents just don’t work so well in delivering Shakespeare’s lines. However on the whole the lines came across reasonably well this time.

The ending of the play was extended by having Pandarus give us a reprise of many of his lines from the play, as if from his grief and loathing. As he did so, the rest of the cast gradually came on stage with drums; in place of the usual dance we got a drum chorus instead, and very good it was too. Not the best production I’ve seen, but they kept the pace up and gave us a good performance.

© 2009 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me