Tag Archives: Mark Gatiss

“The Motive and the Cue” at the Noël Coward Theatre

This blog is about loving theatre. So, Jack Thorne’s play, which goes behind the scenes of Richard Burton and John Gielgud’s 1964 production of Hamlet, is a welcome transfer from the National Theatre. With Sam Mendes directing, it’s sure to thrill theatregoers. It really is a great show.

There’s a trick that’s neat, if not uncommon. Like lots of writers who use Shakespeare’s quotes, the play’s the thing that tells us about the creative process and the people who are performing. The idea structures the play (each scene comes with a quote) and provides a quest – Burton must find “his” Hamlet.

While there’s debate about tradition and youth, with Burton and Gielgud representing different ages, there’s a struggle with the thrill of seeing the two greats depicted. Both are vulnerable – Gielgud’s career is in the dumps and Burton’s drinking on the rise – but we never question their genius. And the fact they are at odds adds a lot of humour. Almost every line is entertaining.

There are problems. I guess you wouldn’t see the play without knowing Hamlet… but that knowledge is essential. And not a passing acquaintance with the play, either. When Thorne does provide background, it rings hollow – there’s too much listing of achievements. It’s frustrating as a solution is present. Burton’s wife, Elizabeth Taylor, is the outsider who could help the audience. Possibly a desire not to patronise Taylor won out. But the character ends up underused. A great shame given Tuppence Middleton’s strong performance in the role.

Which leads to another question. This rehearsal room is full. The production boasts a strong cast that includes Allan Corduner and Sarah Woodward in great form. We all know theatre is a collective effort. But the play is overwhelmed by its central duo. Mirroring Burton’s dilemma – ego takes over. Despite Gielgud’s effort as his director, we don’t see him learning much from anyone. You might argue this is a play about how theatre works… that doesn’t show us how theatre works.

Mark-Gatiss-and-Johnny-Flynn-in-The-Motive-and-the-Cue-credit-Mark-Douet
Mark-Gatiss and Johnny Flynn

It’s hard to know how much such quibbles matter. Mendes brings great style to the show, with the help of designer Es Devlin and lighting from Jon Clark. As well as wringing out big emotion – both Burton and Gielgud’s demons get an airing – the comedy is perfect. And while the lead performances share the danger of unbalancing the production, they are spectacular.

Johnny Flynn plays Burton with breath-taking charisma. It’s a harsh depiction, especially when he is drunk, but you’d still forgive the character almost anything. And you’re convinced his Hamlet was amazing. But since the show contains a battle of egos… Gielgud wins and Mark Gatiss, who takes the role, gives the performance of his career. The impersonation is remarkable – I swear Gatiss starts to look like the man. We see plenty of snobbery but come to understand it as a defence mechanism. Not only is he funnier, in Gatiss’ hands the older man becomes a figure of huge sympathy.

It is with the figure of Gielgud that the transitory nature of theatre, the important role its history plays, the creative struggle and bravery behind putting on a show all become clearer. So…Gielgud is doing a lot of work. And Mendes gets to remind us how important the director is! Burton finds his Hamlet. But nothing happens without Gielgud.

Until 24 March 2024

www.nationaltheatre.org.uk

Photos by Mark Douet

“The Madness of George III” from NTLive

Another trip away from the South Bank this week, to the Nottingham Playhouse, means two places to donate to and reminds us of problems facing theatres nationwide during the Covid-19 lockdown. Alan Bennett’s play started at the National Theatre in 1991 and this revival, directed by Adam Penford towards the end of 2018, shows strong work outside the capital.

Penford approaches the piece with a disciplined hand. Although the title role is unquestionably a star part for Mark Gatiss, who does very well, each member of the cast gets a chance to shine. Gatiss has the King’s avuncular nature down to perfection (what a good gossip), and he makes his illness moving. The stuttering, frustrated efforts to communicate – fantastic writing from Bennett – are great.

George’s love match with Queen Charlotte is well conveyed with the help of Debra Gillett (although the off-and-on German accent could be tighter). Best of all is the appearance of Adrian Scarborough as the King’s physician Willis, who adds a good deal of tension. Many a show picks up when Scarborough walks on stage but, unfortunately, that feels especially true here.

Surprisingly, given Gatiss’ background in comedy, the play isn’t as funny as you might hope. There are too many lines wasted: telling the Prince Regent that style never immortalised anyone really should get a laugh. Instead, the play’s keen eye for politics seems to interest Penfold more.

Focusing on the power struggles behind the sick monarch is good news for Nicholas Bishop as “cold fish” Prime Minister Pitt and is, undoubtedly, interesting. But the plotting could be clearer and scenes in Parliament are pretty poor, despite some nice design from Robert Jones. Nonetheless, Bennett does well when he engages with history and Penford is smart to pick this up. If the author’s more romping moments are neglected, the play is clearly still in good shape.

Available until Wednesday 17 June 2020

To support, visit nationaltheatre.org.uk

“Coriolanus” from NTLive

It’s a shame not to be able to rave about Josie Rourke’s Donmar Warehouse production of Shakespeare’s Roman epic a little more. The idea of putting the title character’s mother, Volumnia, to the fore is excellent and leads to the performance of a lifetime from Deborah Findlay. But Coriolanus is a tricky play, with an unappealing central character and short crowded scenes that are tough to make convincing. Although Rourke tries hard to inject energy and aid comprehension, the play frequently drags and hard to follow.

Rourke recreates the battle scene (where Caius Marcius wins his honorary surname of Coriolanus) with chairs and ladders – it probably looked better on stage but it is tough to follow. And a hard-working cast doubling up as politicians from different sides is also confusing.

It’s difficult to care about Coriolanus and his obsession with honour – even his arrogance becomes repetitive. How good a politician might he be? Is he truly modest or just another hypocrite? Such questions become unsubtle in a show with lots of shouting and moving around, none of which helps you work out what is going on or makes it exciting.

Thankfully, Deborah Findlay makes the show more than worth watching. Every scene with Volumnia is marvellous; from her introduction as the mother who would rather have a “good report” of her son than have him survive a war, to her creepy adoration of his battle scars. Findlay makes the exaggerations everyone spouts make sense. Rourke’s focus pays off and if the show uneven – aren’t we just waiting for these scenes? – it’s worth it. Here, Rourke has added to our interpretation of the play and brings out the best bits.

It’s not that the rest of the cast is bad – far from it. There are good turns from Elliot Levey and Helen Schlesinger as the tribunes who plot against Coriolanus, and making them lovers is another good idea. Mark Gatiss, as Menenius, gets better as the show goes, with a “cracked heart” from his last meeting with Coriolanus that is effective. 

CORIOLANUS The Donmar Warehouse credit Johan Persson
Tom Hiddleston

As for our leading man, Tom Hiddleston is very good indeed. It might have been interesting to explore the suggestion of “witchcraft” in the role, but Hiddleston is more than a little scary and brings out the character’s urge to be the “author of himself” well. Hiddleston can hold a stage superbly and, with Rourke’s impressive visual sense in this literally bloody show, helps creates some memorable images.

Yet even Coriolanus ends up seeming something of a foil for his mother – Findlay is so good. On her son’s exile, Volumnia refuses to cry, saying “anger’s my meat” in chilling fashion. That she finally begs Coriolanus is all the more moving – no wonder Hiddleston is reduced to tears. Even here there is a manipulative edge (see how she ushers her grandson towards his father) and note that this tragic dilemma is hers. Coriolanus says his mother deserves to have a temple built to her. It’s one of the few sensible things he utters. But, recalling Matthew Dunster’s idea about Cymbeline a few years ago at Shakespeare’s Globe, it might be an idea to change the title of this play, too? From Coriolanus to Volumnia anyone? 

Available until Wednesday 11 June 2020

To support, visit nationaltheatre.org.ukdonmarwarehouse.com

Photos by Johan Persson

“The Boys In The Band” at the Park Theatre

You’d be excused for an arched eyebrow over the revival of Mart Crowley’s inspirational 1968 play. So much has changed since this iconic gay text threw a spotlight on a small section of a marginalised community that the play is bound to feel dated. Thankfully, while some jokes do feel old, a couple inexcusably so, Adam Penford’s pacey revival, with the help of a superb cast, makes this a lively night out that stands up well.

A birthday party is hosted by the initially charming Michael, whose demons get the better of him as he concocts a painful game – forcing people to telephone their one true love – with the seeming aim of making his guests as miserable as he is. Ian Hallard makes the most of this meaty role, showing a vicious edge that is riveting while never alienating the audience.

Ian Hallard and John Hopkins
Ian Hallard and John Hopkins

Hallard’s chemistry with his old roommate Alan, who makes a surprise appearance with predictable comedy results, is well studied. When this closeted character, ably handled by John Hopkins, breaks down it’s still a shock. All the more credit as the conservative fiction Alan hides behind seems especially weak. Both Hopkins and Hallard do well to preserve the drama here.

Daniel Boys and Mark Gatiss
Daniel Boys and Mark Gatiss

The unhappy birthday celebrations are for Harold, played by Mark Gatiss, who makes an appearance as the first act closes. Too clever for anybody’s good, especially Michael’s, Harold’s waspish remarks cut deep and Gatiss makes each one go a long way, balancing humour and emotional perception no matter how short each line. It’s a cumbersome role, with touches of a narrator, that’s cleverly made light work of.

James Holmes and Greg Lockett
James Holmes and Greg Lockett

As for the rest of the guests, the ensemble is one you would invite to any production. They include a top-notch comedy turn from James Holmes as the effeminate Emory, ably abetted by Bernard (Greg Lockett) and the excellent Daniel Boys as the studious Donald, who superbly anchors the play. A troubled couple, whose affection for one another is sincere, are made convincing by Ben Mansfield and Nathan Nolan. Even Jack Derges as a hustler hired as a present for the night gets laughs out of a slim part.

With the exception of Hallard’s role, all the parts are pretty thin. Crowley’s desire to express a spectrum of characters and opinions gets the better of him and never quite works. More credit to the cast. The plot could be generously described as functional. The production, though, makes the play more than the sum of is parts – full of memorable touches and great laughs – and it’s an achievement worth celebrating.

Until 30 October 2016

www.parktheatre.co.uk

Photos by Darren Bell

“Season’s Greetings” at the National Theatre

Season’s Greetings is the National Theatre’s festive offering to its audience. It has a cast of shiny stars (Mark Gatiss, Katherine Parkinson and Catherine Tate) and might be thought of as well wrapped – designer Rae Smith’s set is impressive. Unfortunately, Alan Ayckbourn’s comedy of Christmas misery isn’t really the kind of gift you want to unwrap.

As a dysfunctional family come together for the festive holiday you can prepare yourself for laughs of recognition. Marianne Elliott’s direction gets the most out of Ayckbourn’s multi-vocal dexterity, but it is a touch laboured. The finale of Scene 3 may be hilarious, but it just takes too long to get there. Ayckbourn’s eye for detail delights some, and this piece has an additional nostalgic charm, but there’s a danger of having too many trimmings – just think about your Christmas dinner.

The cast of nine all get their moments in the spotlight and these are justly deserved but, as each marginally indulgent performance unfolds, the cumulative effect is forced. Nicola Walker is great at crying, Jenna Russell makes a tremendous stage drunk and Oliver Chris is superbly natural as the guest who sets the pulses of the families’ frustrated women racing. It is only Tate’s comic timing that is really spot-on. While Gatiss has great control, his character is so endearing that when the humour gets darker you feel a little guilty about laughing at him.

And the humour does get dark. Ayckbourn plays with the despair of the middle classes in a manner that can’t be described as fun – farce is often close to tragedy and the dark undertones here can take the smile off your face pretty sharpish. You will probably laugh – but it isn’t guaranteed. Nor will it leave you satisfied. It’s a Christmas present you don’t know what to do with afterwards.

Until 13 March 2011

www.nationaltheatre.org.uk

Photo by Catherine Ashmore

Written 13 December 2010 for The London Magazine