Tag Archives: Nicola Walker

“The Cane” at the Royal Court

Mark Ravenhill’s new play uses education to examine politics between the generations and the sexes. Cultural pressure points, easily recognised, signal an author with his finger on the pulse, while intelligence and care call out hypocrisy on either side of a divide between ages and genders. The simple scenario has a teacher, about to retire, literally under siege by a violent mob of school children who discover that, once upon a time, he executed corporal punishment.

Fairy tales play a part; the language of the play is often comedically plain, reactions to extremes deadpan, and there’s reference to a witch or two. It seems that Edward, a dedicated Deputy Head, and his wife Maureen, are living in a never-never land, full of nonsensical nostalgia that the Daily Mail would be proud to print and everyone else can enjoy mocking. Those millennial snowflakes are a target of course – so far too predictable – with Alun Armstrong and Maggie Stead doing a wonderful job of making outrage believable. Thankfully, Ravenhill knows it’s essential to present another side to the story.

The presence of the couple’s daughter, Anna, estranged as a traitor since she works for an Academy school, shows the play’s strengths. Ravenhill has created a challenging character and Nicola Walker gives a superb performance in the role. She knows what “best practice” consists of,  yet doesn’t believe any of the jargon she is fluent in and her motives prove dark. Anna’s background, her childhood with this odd couple, leads to some extravagances on Ravenhill’s part. Walker juggles the anger her character has inherited with a façade of calm that is captivating.

Vicky Featherstone’s direction suits the play perfectly. But waiting for the headmaster, who has been scared away by scandal, and a trip into the attic, don’t really cut it dramatically. Efforts are made to inject tension, Chloe Lamford’s design tries especially hard, still it’s hard to believe a lot of what little action there is here. Credibility isn’t the point of course, but its lack can prove frustrating; a block to the admirable detail on offer when it comes Edward’s sexism or Anna’s vengefulness. The Cane works better as a set of ideas than it does as a play, but these are clever arguments, well presented and expertly performed.

Until 26 January 2019

www.royalcourttheatre.com

Photo by Johan Persson

“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

“Mrs Klein” at the Almeida Theatre

Nicholas Wright’s play deals knowledgeably with the life of formidable psychoanalyst Melanie Klein and her prestigious contribution to her science.

The period atmosphere of 1930s intellectual émigrés is carefully evoked with touches of tender irony, alongside a playful knowledge of the layman’s prejudices used to great comic effect. There are many moments of laughter in a work that is often disturbingly dark – Klein’s personal tragedy is a heart-rending one.

The story opens with the death of her son, following which Klein presents herself as a capable woman still in control. Through the course of the play, through interaction with the only two other characters we meet, we see this denial deepen and have to encounter the horrid possibility that her son’s death was actually suicide.

These two other players are Klein’s daughter Melitta and impoverished emigrée Paula, both also psychoanalysts. They have a frank and yet fraught relationship with one another but that seems simple in contrast to their relations with Klein.

Zoe Waites plays Melitta. Having been psychoanalysed by her mother (a shocking practice common in the early days of the discipline) a superficial competence only briefly hides her damaged self. Waites shows the character’s frustration with a mother she simply cannot compete against. The cruelty she plots fails to satisfy her, her attempts at sophistication seem pathetic, and she often gesticulates like a child.

Nicola Walker’s Paula is a more complex character whose story unfolds as the play progresses.  Initially a diffident presence, we discover her ambition is to become a patient of the great Mrs Klein. As intimacy deepens, it seems the plan is to take the place of daughter. The final scene shows their first consultation – planned to prevent reconciliation between mother and birth daughter. Keen to show her academic credentials, Paula has some of the clunkiest lines but delivers them with great expression.

Both actresses are shadowed by a wonderful performance from Claire Higgins as Mrs Klein. Her presence on stage is truly commanding, as she moves us from laughter to deep sympathy – an achievement all the greater since her character itself is portrayed as being far from endearing. At turns brittle and domineering, she can also be vulnerable and fragile. Her one violent outburst is electrifying, and her final breakdown likely to bring you to tears.

Higgins should surely be nominated for her fourth Olivier award for making a truly wonderful night at the theatre.

Until 5 December 2009

www.almeida.co.uk

Photo by John Haynes

Written 3 November 2009 for The London Magazine