Tag Archives: Justine Mitchell

“Dancing at Lughnasa” at the National Theatre

Framed around the childhood of a narrator we take to be the playwright, Brian Friel’s award-winning 1990 play is a powerfully subtle piece about memory. We see the frustrated lives of an unmarried mother and her four spinster sisters in 1930s rural Ireland. Beneath mundane details are suggestions of what these women really felt and glimpses of what they wished for.

Running parallel to events, ruminations on recollection itself are exquisitely delivered by Tom Vauhgan-Lawlor, who plays this all-important narrator. It’s clear that this vision of the past is about emotion rather than action. We shouldn’t trust what we see (although note how tempting it is to do so), not because we are being misled but since so much is unknown. The tone is melancholic, despite many moments of affection and joy. 

Tom-Vaughan-Lawlor-in-Dancing-at-Lughnasa-Photo-Johan-Persson
Tom Vaughan-Lawlor

The pace set by director Josie Rourke is appropriately calm. During almost three hours little happens (and ‘big’ events are always off stage). It is the characters who are enthralling with every detail worthy of attention. What we get are snatches remembered from youth – riddles, toys and jokes or arguments that impress themselves on a child – small moments, but vivid.

There are larger themes in Dancing at Lughnasa – big changes in Irish politics and society, with the theme of emigration regularly infringing on life – and Rourke carefully follows Friel’s lead to handle these, mostly, lightly. An exception is Father Jack, a brother who has returned from missionary work having ‘gone native’. The link to the play’s wider pagan themes is stated rather than explored, an unusual misstep, which leaves Ardal O’Hanlon somewhat wasted in the role.

Siobhan-McSweeney-Ardal-OHanlon-and-Justine-Mitchell-in-Dancing-at-Lughnasa-Photo-Johan-Persson
Siobhan McSweeney Ardal OHanlon and Justine Mitchell

The detail in the writing is captured in a set of strong performances with each actor having to portray frustrations felt as well as a sense of opportunities lost. Our narrator’s mother, played by Alison Oliver, is appropriately to the fore. Her siblings – Justine Mitchell, Louisa Harland, and Bláithín Mac Gabhann – are excellent. These are restrained women, with the weight of the world on their shoulders, which makes any escapism potent. Feel free to pick your favourite although it is hard not to highlight Siobhán McSweeney’s comedy skills as the fifth sister. Her character is described as “light-hearted”, but it is the moments when her smile slips that are most powerful.

There is much unsaid in Dancing at Lughnasa, with plenty of the communication being non-verbal. It turns out that the summer of 1936 was the last time that the family were all together (typically, we don’t see this dramatic split). Is it the time or the memory that comes to be described as “alluring and mesmeric”? Either way, those are responses that the audience comes to share with the narrator. As with time lost and memories themselves, the play lingers in the mind.

Until 27 May 2023

www.nationaltheatre.org.uk

Photos by Johan Persson

“Rutherford and Son” at the National Theatre

While Githa Sowerby’s 1912 play has long been acknowledged as an important text, Polly Findlay’s new production reveals the work to be a true masterpiece. No doubt old-fashioned, being driven by a strong plot featuring excellent characters and dripping with detail, the piece contains bigger concerns that feel remarkably contemporary. The story of a tyrannical patriarch who lives for his factory at the expense of his family, the obsession with legacy and reputation may be removed from our times, but Rutherford’s business model is easily recognisable.

At the centre of the play is Rutherford himself – a mammoth role that Roger Allam takes in his stride. Allam is so good he can allow humour into the part, which is important as the sexism, snobbery and bullying are hard to swallow. And, for all the awful things Rutherford says and does, Allam manages to inject a compelling charm. It’s easy to imagine his workforce and family being devoted to him. Rutherford’s character is revealed slowly – notably he is talked about a great deal before we meet him, which gives us a complex person rather than a caricature. Given his cultivated pretence of reasonableness, you may find yourself agreeing with him more than you’d like, even when he’s at his most outrageous.

Justine Mitchell

Allum is amazing, but it’s Findlay’s triumph that, unlike Rutherford, he isn’t totally in charge. A superb supporting cast moulds the focus of the play from scene to scene. Harry Hepple and Sam Troughton play the hapless sons, a mix of timid piety and privileged bluster that’s increasingly unattractive. There’s a brilliant performance from Justine Mitchell as the daughter, Janet, who provides evidence of the cruelty brought to all the siblings’ upbringings. The outcome of her story, containing a shock and a mystery, is deeply moving. It’s in his daughter-in-law, Anjana Vasan’s Ann, quiet for so much of the play, that Rutherford meets his match, with a finale that makes ruthless bargaining a riveting drama.

Rutherford and Son could so easily be dismissed as all about repression – hence less relevant to our times. But there’s actually plenty of confrontation in the play and presenting both shows Sowerby’s genius. The characters aren’t pushovers – they wouldn’t convince if they were. Rather, quiet moments, in particular the depressing resignation the women often display, create a distinct rhythm for the piece that builds in power. Although bleak, there’s a sense of satisfaction that Rutherford is justly rewarded. Given that he’s a glass manufacturer, a profession Lizzie Clachan’s gorgeous set emphasises, the danger of throwing stones should be clear. Or maybe that’s wish fulfilment on my part? The finale has a Rutherford heir who isn’t quite the son anyone presumed. Questioning what might come next is Sowerby’s aim, highlighting motherhood makes this a play focuses on the future far more than for the past.

Until 3 August 2019

www.nationaltheatre.org.uk  

Photos by Johan Persson

“The Plough And The Stars” at the National Theatre

There are no surprises here. Howard Davies’ new production, co-directed with Jeremy Herrin, is the quality affair you would expect from the veteran director. Utilising the National Theatre’s expert stage management, and with a typical respect for a classic text, this show drips class.

It’s a forgivable irony that Sean O’Casey’s play about the Irish Easter rising of 1916, which focuses so much on the lives of the poor, should receive such a luxurious treatment. Vicki Mortimer’s set appears impressively expensive – it takes a lot of money to look that cheap – while detail and care run through the whole show.

Stephen Kennedy
Stephen Kennedy

With a steely confidence, Davies and Herrin take us deep into the lives of those living in a Dublin tenement house. Flynn and Covey (Lloyd Hutchinson and Tom Vaughan-Lawlor) argue over politics while an agnostic drunk, made loveable by Stephen Kennedy, looks on. A good deal of humour is injected (I’m not quite sure O’Casey expected so many laughs at socialism) with the drama coming from the more serious Jack Clitheroe, portrayed convincingly by Fionn Walton, the one man willing to fight, despite his wife’s protestations.

Justine Mitchell and Josie Walker
Justine Mitchell and Josie Walker

The action doesn’t get going until the second half but when fighting starts the trauma of the battle is intense. Suffering focuses on the women and it’s the actresses who steal this show. Two great renditions of battle-axe neighbours come from Justine Mitchell and Josie Walker. On opposing sides of the struggle, their sniping is full of wit, but when care for one another creeps out it’s genuine and moving. As Clitheroe’s pregnant wife, Nora, Judith Roddy has a traumatic role; driven “mad with terror”, her whole body becomes rigid in the play’s relentless finale.

Added to these fine performances is a double achievement on the part of this production. The history and its frustrating complexity are clear; O’Casey presents many arguing sides and the directors do this justice. Also understood is the aim of showing the effects of violence on the most vulnerable, making the piece strikingly relevant. With no sense of the contrived – just theatrical power – this is a grade-A show.

Until 22 October 2016

www.nationaltheatre.org.uk

Photos by Johan Persson

“The White Guard” at the National Theatre

Designer Bunny Christie has done such an exemplary job on the sets for The White Guard –  Andrew Upton’s adaptation of Mikhail Bulgakov’s masterpiece depicting the mayhem of the Russian Civil War, now showing at The National Theatre – that it makes sense to tell the story through her work.

Set first in the Turbin family household we’re drawn into the close, communal nature of their life. They are members of the Tsarist White Guard who protect a puppet politician installed by the Germans to control the Ukraine in the winter of 1918. The set gracefully retracts to the back of the Lyttelton stage, becoming distant and threatened as the story moves to the Hetman’s decrepit palace just as he is about to flee, with the vast, cold room depicting the corruption and chaos of the state. Next we’re plunged into to scenes of war; the barracks of the rebelling Nationalists, ready to fight both the Germans and the approaching Bolsheviks, and a school gymnasium commandeered by the White Guard who have come to appreciate that they have become an anachronism in a political vacuum.

This is a family drama set in turbulent times. Daniel Flynn plays elder brother Alexei Turbin with determination. He is a man of great courage but also a thinking soldier.  Flynn manages to show bravery but also fear about the future. Younger brother Nikolai is played by Richard Henders with great charm. In managing to convey ambiguity over whether Nikolai idolises his brother or the military more his fate becomes deeply moving. Justine Mitchell, cast as their sister Elena, is the only female role in the play. She manages this complex role superbly acting not just as sister but mother, friend and lover to her brother’s comrades visiting the home.

If this all sounds very worthy don’t be put off. True, The White Guard is a fascinating investigation into the impact of war and offers insight into politics. Yes, it shows the power of ideas and identity to sculpt our lives and behaviour, but Upton’s new version of the play deals lightly with all this and saves the work from any pomposity. Possibly because Bulgakov’s own adaption was so heavily censored, Upton has a sense of freedom. His writing is delightful, fast-paced, down to earth and comical with plenty of force when it comes to dramatic moments.

Best of all he has given a script that the cast can revel in and director Howard Davies uses his great experience to provide them with room and inspiration enough to result in performances that seem uniformly fresh and natural.

The visitors to the Turbin home all seem to fall in love with Elena. It isn’t just because she is the only woman around – Mitchell’s performance shows a vitally alive, captivating woman. Paul Higgins and Nick Fletcher as Captains in The Guard both convince as soldiers under pressure and men in love. Pip Carter who plays Larion, a visiting student who provides an alternative to the militarism around him, has some great comic moments. Kevin Doyle as Elena’s husband and deputy war minister serves as an effective foil to the many admirable men in her life with his amusing incompetence and self-obsession. Elena refers to them all as her boys – but the man of the piece is Conleth Hill.

Hill plays Lieutenant Shervinsky. We see him as the perfect charmer wooing Elena.  She and the audience can’t help but laugh with him. As aide-de-camp to the Hetman, he is superior towards the footman, a fantastic little role Barry McCarthy excels in, and deferential to his boss, played by Anthony Calf in great form. As the political turmoil increases we see his character adapt to survive, winning the love of Elena and revealing a deep sincere affection. His character is the man happiest to adapt to the future that the White Guard feared. His portrayal is so charismatic we are happy that he can do so. With him around the Russian Revolution becomes a lot more interesting.

Until July 7 2010

www.nationaltheatre.org.uk

Photo by Catherine Ashmore

Written 26 March 2010 for The London Magazine