Tag Archives: Mark Thompson

“Jack Absolute Flies Again” at the National Theatre

Richard Bean and Oliver Chris are back on the South Bank. Eight years after their smash hit show, One Man, Two Guvnors, the writing team have taken on Richard Brinsley Sheridan’s 18th-century comedy The Rivals. It’s the same smart, irreverent humour with blue tones and knowing touches. And it’s very funny.

Setting the action on the eve of the Battle of Britain (Covid delayed the show, which would have been anniversary-appropriate) works well. There’s plenty of commentary on class – which Bean and Chris love. And the relative liberation women experienced during war time is used neatly. Above all, there are many easy jokes about the period that are mined to the max.

James-Corrigan,-Jordan-Metcalfe,-Laurie-Davidson-and-Akshay-Sharan-in-Jack-Absolute-Flies-Again
James Corrigan, Jordan Metcalfe, Laurie Davidson and Akshay Sharan

Instead of setting the play in Bath, the location is Mrs Malaprop’s country home, requisitioned by the RAF. The pilots seem like a pretty useless bunch of men (what fun) – especially when it comes to romance. A clueless toff, a clever Indian and a crass Australian all get jokes, although they are predictable. It’s appealing performances from James Corrigan, Jordan Metcalfe and Akshay Sharan that make these roles work. The titular lead comes across as bland, despite Laurie Davidson’s efforts. It’s Jack’s father who impresses, with Peter Forbes delivering a rousing performance as the bumptious army major who has some great one-liners. He’s short tempered and misogynistic but he’s a great guy!

The women do much better, even if the big joke is them wanting (or not) to be ‘modern’. Natalie Simpson, as the show’s siren Lydia Languish, deals with some very long lines very well. Sheridan had his heroine obsessed with romance – this time it’s the desire for a socialist future. Lydia’s target is a working-class man from Up North and she wants to open a lemon farming commune in Barnsley.

Bean and Chris’ odder moments are my preference. Even if the jokes don’t get as many laughs, they are original and unexpected. A preoccupation with geography is endearing. A riff on war wounds even manages to be sweet (kind of). The set, designed by Mark Thompson, echoes unusual perspectives with childlike appeal thrown in.

The maid, played by Kerry Howard, has a few too many jokes about the theatre (she’s a self-proclaimed dramatic device) but is excellent. The star of the show is Caroline Quentin as Mrs Malaprop. The updated malapropisms are strong (my favourite was Mexican for lexicon) and they are delivered superbly: Quentin saves some of the weaker (usually bluer) ones with delicious confidence.

Director Emily Burns keeps the action moving swiftly but with a (slightly) calmer, more contemplative undercurrent than that previously mentioned big hit. Bean and Chris cleverly ensure our respect for the pilots increases as the play goes on. And they have a brave ending that earns them respect, too. Jack Absolute Flies Again is more of an ensemble piece (James Cordon was ably supported but was very much the focus). If this show doesn’t sell as many tickets as One Man, Two Guvnors, it still might be a better play.

Until 3 September 2022

www.nationaltheatre.org.uk

Photos by Brinkhoff-Moegenburg

“She stoops to conquer’ at the National Theatre

Any production of a comedy at the National Theatre is likely to be compared to the venue’s most recent success, One Man, Two Guvnors. As Richard Bean’s updating of Goldoni’s play moves to Broadway, and opens with a new cast in the West End, the National’s newest attempt to make us merry is a traditional version of another 18th-century classic, Oliver Goldsmith’s She Stoops to Conquer. Remarkably, the National has succeeded again – this is a delightful production with guaranteed belly laughs.

Our hero Marlow is sent to visit his prospective bride Kate, played commendably by Harry Hadden-Paton and Katherine Kelly. But while Marlow can banter with barmaids he is impotent when flirting with women of his own class. A practical joke by Kate’s half-brother Tony Lumpkin (a superb comic creation in the hands of David Fynn) leads Marlow to believe the home of his future father-in-law is the local inn. Exploiting the confusion, Kate joins in the deception, bawdily stooping in class to conquer her diffident suitor.

SHE STOOPS TO CONQUER by Goldsmith
Sophie Thompson as Mrs Hardscastle

Another pair of lovers, Constance (the appealing Cush Jumbo) and Hastings, joins the fun, planning to elope under the nose of the former’s guardian, the pretentious and avaricious Mrs Hardcastle. Sophie Thompson is superb in the role, her deliciously exaggerated performance making her one of the most endearing characters of the piece. But it’s John Heffernan as the foppish Hastings who takes the evening’s comic laurels delivering a master class in buffoonery and raillery.

It’s a relief that director Jamie Lloyd doesn’t try anything tricksy with the play. She stoops to conquer is “old-fashioned trumpery” that doesn’t need a modern take. Lloyd has the confidence to play it straight, knowing he just has to control the action, and the laughs will follow. Mark Thompson’s design provides the doors to slam – the text doesn’t really call for them but they add a reassuringly farcical touch. And the music – all pots and pans and trolololing, provided by Ben & Max Ringham, directed and arranged by David Shrubsole, adds immeasurably to the production. You have to see the ensemble perform it to believe how funny it is – that’s if you can hear it above the laughter.

Until 28 March 2012

www.nationaltheatre.org.uk

Photo by Johan Persson

Written 1 February 2012 for The London Magazine

“The Children’s Hour” at the Comedy Theatre

At the interval of The Children’s Hour, I happened to overhear a young audience member’s confusion. “What is the scandal?” he asked. “Is it because they are lesbians?” It could be that accusing schoolteachers of being gay, the central plot of the play, is now so outmoded it doesn’t even make sense, or that the child is just expecting something more lurid. Either way the perplexity doesn’t bode well – and yet The Children’s Hour works and proves to be a terrific night out.

It is easy to guess why director Ian Rickson took the risk – The Children’s Hour  has great roles for women. And the stellar cast should all share top billing. Elisabeth Moss makes an assured West End debut playing one of the accused teachers, Martha, with convincing aggression. She looks only slightly less comfortable on stage than her colleague Karen, played by Keira Knightley. After her modest debut in last year’s The Misanthrope, Knightly is impressive, playing an ambitious woman whose life falls apart in the face of malicious gossip. At times, she is a commanding presence on the stage.

The legendary Ellen Burstyn gives a performance of quiet brilliance as the teacher’s self-righteous scourge; it’s her desperation to do ‘good’ that persuades her to believe her granddaughter Mary’s story, cribbed from a book the girls have been passing amongst themselves. Mary has overheard the women visiting each other’s rooms and seen things she can only whisper about, blackmailing others to follow her. It isn’t that the story is convincing – it’s the paranoia of the adults that gives it power. Bryony Hannah plays this “dark child” wonderfully. As an actress she has had plenty of practice playing adolescents, and it’s paid off with an uncannily convincing performance of thrilling intensity.

Hannah’s performance is very much in keeping with Rickson’s strategy for The Children’s Hour. His direction wrenches every bit of tension from the text and he is aided by Mark Thompson’s austere set design and music from Stephen Warbeck. Lancet, New England, is a frigid place – probably close to Salem I’d guess – and Hellman, like her close contemporary Arthur Miller, is very much concerned with witch hunts.

While The Children’s Hour is an unsettling portrayal of how a sexual minority was treated in 1930s America, gay rights are really just a foil for larger concerns about the dangers of righteousness. In opening up her play to this larger issue, Hellman guaranteed its relevance for the future. Rickson and his cast get the benefits of good old-fashioned writing along with a foresight that makes this play carry considerable weight today.

Until 7 May 2011

Photo by Johan Persson

Written 10 February 2011 for The London Magazine

“Rope” at the Almeida Theatre

It is great to see a thriller on the stage – there simply aren’t enough around.  And, despite its philosophical underpinnings, Patrick Hamilton’s Rope is just that – a great thriller.

Director Roger Mitchell maintains suspense by dropping the interval and gets things off to a great start by opening in darkness, the stage occupied by two young men illuminated only by their cigarettes. The murder they have just committed, we learn, is the result of their plan to stage the perfect crime and assert their Nietzschean superiority.

But something is clearly wrong.  Granilo, played by Alex Waldmann, cannot stand to have the lamp switched on.  Throughout the evening that ensues, he can only play at being calm.  His shrill panic breaks through to add to the tension.

The college friend with whom he has concocted the plot, Wyndham Brandon, played by Blake Ritson with sinister appeal, seems to be more in charge.  To add spice to the plan it is decided to hold a party with the corpse still in the room, concealed in a chest.

Invited to this party are the victim’s friends and relations. Henry Lloyd-Hughes and Phoebe Waller-Bridge play a young couple who serve as the antithesis of Granilo and Brandon. They manage their parts with a carefree humour that adds to the pathos of the evening. Michael Elwyn plays the victim’s father and is deeply touching when learns of his son’s disappearance.

Also in attendance is Rupert Cadell, played by Bertie Carvel, a slightly senior college friend known for his intelligence and suspected of sympathising with the murderers’ perverse ideology. And Cadell is going to ruin the evening. Instantly suspicious of the theatrical atmosphere, he sets out to solve the mystery and entrap the killers. Clearly his morals are far stronger than his friends might have supposed.

Carvel carries the psychological depth of the piece, portraying a damaged man who nonetheless contains enormous empathy – for the murder victim of course, but also for the lost souls whose minds entertained the idea of killing in the first place. He also succeeds in the task of putting passion into the play. Mitchell avoids homosexual connotations between the murdering couple, as seen in previous productions and also Tom Kalin’s 1992 film.  This brings his production closer to the famous Hitchcock’s version.  The killers’ motive seems entirely academic, and it is left to Carvel to urgently explain to them the horror of what they have done.

Rope is the first production at The Almeida to be staged in the round – an impressive technical achievement enabling designer Mark Thompson to place the chest containing the murder victim as centrally as possible. However, the chest is clearly not the cassone referred to in the text. This becomes more of a problem as characters speculate that it looks like the kind of chest you would place a body in – it simply doesn’t.

Until 6 February 2009

www.almeida.co.uk

Photo by John Haynes

Written 21 December 2009 for The London Magazine