Tag Archives: Rae Smith

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“This House” from NTLive

The scheduling for the National Theatre’s fund-raising lockdown-lifeline was organised a while ago, so a play about arrogant politicians and their mistakes can’t be seen as a current commentary. And anyway, in James Graham’s fantastic play the humanity of our Members of Parliament is to the fore, making it funny and moving as a result. Set between 1974 and Margaret Thatcher’s election five years later, these politicians of a previous age come off rather well. The current lot should be so lucky in their chronicler.

Too young to remember the events he so skilfully recounts (as one MP comments, it’s “anarchy out there”), Graham surely makes them slightly more interesting than they really were. Comprehensively and impeccably researched, this is a modern history lesson brilliantly told. All manner of boring bills and the arcane workings of parliament are made fascinating and funny. You honestly don’t have to be interested in party politics to find This House interesting.

Jeremy Herrin’s direction is a masterclass: what could so easily be confusing is clear, his appreciation of the comedy is perfect while at other times the pace resembles a thriller. Herrin is also careful to allow space for more poignant moments without lapsing into sentimentality – the script benefits as a result. It’s hard not to become attached to several figures, even with smaller appearances (the member for Walsall North and a subplot about mental health, played by Andrew Havill, spring to mind).

Focusing on the “engine room” of the Whips offices is Graham’s key move. On the Labour side, the roles of Walter Harrison and Ann Taylor prove the most interesting, making great roles for Reece Dinsdale and Lauren O’Neil, who play with how ruthless their characters are with appropriate efficiency. The jokes on class, gender, personal foibles and the 1970s range from downright howlers to subtle observation. The “aristotwats” they oppose are led by the brilliantly waspish Humphrey Atkins and the dapper Jack Weatherill, even stronger roles for Julian Wadham and Charles Edwards who are both brilliant.

Phil Daniels and Vincent Franklin in 'The House' at the National Theatre credit Johan Persson
Phil Daniels and Vincent Franklin

This is a recording of the show’s transfer from the Dorfman (then Cottesloe) into the larger Olivier auditorium. The music accompanying the show seems less noticeable and Rae Smith’s design, including the audience seated on a moving stage (what fun) is understandably lost. A bigger problem is that the cast seems to be compensating for the bigger space. Yes, politicians shout a lot, but the lead Labour Whips, played by Phil Daniels and Vincent Franklin, bellow all the time and the roles suffer as a result. Filming exaggerates this further.

Nonetheless, as a “war of attrition” takes its toll on the Labour ranks, Graham’s questioning of cooperation and the constant deals politicians make comes to the fore. Remember that when it was written in 2012 the UK was dealing with its first coalition government since World War II. A long way from Machiavelli, lots of the machinations here are petty, the motivations mostly tribal. Neither detract from the drama and maybe one character becomes something of a hero? Without making excuses for our masters, Graham has shown one lot at least working hard and trying their best.

Available until Wednesday 3 June 2020

To support, visit nationaltheatre.org.uk

Photos by Johan Persson

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“Rosmersholm” at the Duke of York Theatre

Theatre folk love to make revivals of plays relevant to current times. Now and then, the connections made seem forced, but this new adaptation by Duncan Macmillan of Ibsen’s play from 1886 resonates with the present in a way that frequently astounds. Set around an election, with a country polarised and inequality increasing, nationalism and fake news are everywhere. Meanwhile, the play’s central figure of Rosmer recognises that his privilege comes with a “moral debt” – as they say on Twitter, he is ‘woke’. A conscience examined in the finest detail and a brilliant performance by Tom Burke contribute to a superb production that fizzes with topicality.

Rosmersholm is no dry political disquisition. Giles Terera’s stage presence – as the establishment figure of Andreas Kroll – makes sure that the debate is entertaining. Rosmer’s brother-in-law and old friend, Kroll views radicalism as a threat to not just the country but the soul. And there’s more – ghosts for a start – which director Ian Rickson allows to be symbolic as well as pretty creepy. The characters and the damaged house of Rosmer, with its gorgeous set from Rae Smith, are haunted in many ways, with gradual revelations about the family’s history that make this quite the thriller. It’s all balanced expertly by Rickson and, if the evening is overpowering at times, it’s always exciting.

Tom Burke and Giles Terera

Above all, Rosmersholm is a romance – a particularly intense and tragic one. Marking out Rosmer as a “fallen man” involved with an “independent woman” could remind us too forcefully that this is a period piece. But not a jot. While Burke brings out the complexities of his role as a former pastor who has lost his faith and whose family name becomes a political football, his love interest, Rebecca West, is made the star of the show. This is a tremendous vehicle for Hayley Atwell, who gives a performance full of fantastic detail. West even seems as if she might provide a happy ending. You don’t need to have seen too much Ibsen to be suspicious of that, but Atwell and Rickson make subsequent revelations edge-of-the-seat stuff.

This is a relationship based on talking politics (that’s how our couple fell in love). The chemistry is fantastic, but the ideals discussed are also exciting and challenging. West proves an extreme figure who allows no compromise and there’s an immaturity in both her and Rosmer – take your pick blaming stunted upbringings or a narrow society – that leads to catastrophe. Rosmersholm becomes a frightening place – the talk is of sickness and sacrifice, death or change. No middle ground is allowed. It’s surely just the position, with all its dangers, that we face right now.

Until 20 July 2019

www.rosmersholmplay.com

Photos by Johan Persson

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“Nightfall” at the Bridge Theatre

This is only the third show at the South Bank’s newest venue and the stage itself continues to impress. Transformed again – thrusting out into the audience and with glorious backdrops courtesy of Rae Smith – it’s a clever design for Barney Norris’ intimate new play. But, despite the addition of strong work from director Laurie Sansom, there’s a suspicion that this intergenerational family drama would benefit from a smaller home. And while Nightfallis well-crafted and well-performed it is also, unfortunately, a little bit dull.

Norris is a young writer of exciting promise. Credit to the venue for giving him such a break. As a mother and her adult children struggle as farmers, and fight to shape new lives after a bereavement, there is a lot of potential for emotion. There are secrets and lies aplenty and strong dialogue, although both are a touch predictable. The play’s quality feel makes criticism sound harsh, but this is very much a talking heads affair that combines a streak of sentimentality with a studiousness that is uninspired.

A look at rural life makes a welcome change in a London theatre. So it is frustrating that the setting gets lost, with surprisingly little sense of what a working farm is like and what living on one might entail. Brother and sister, Ryan and Lou, along with their best friend and her fiancé Pete, are well-rounded character studies and Ophelia Lovibond, Sion Daniel Young and Ukweli Roach all acquit themselves well. But there seems too little to distinguish them from their urban contemporaries. The play’s focus is really the theme of grief, which Norris tackles movingly. This is where the real meat lies, with Claire Skinner as the matriarch Jenny putting in a fine performance – although, for my money, Lovibond steals the show. And yet, while the characters are developed they aren’t fascinating. And the plot is involving, but too slim. As the stakes are raised to compensate we arrive at a drama of over-powering mother love too quickly, leaving Skinner lost and the play unconvincing.

Until 26 May 2018

www.bridgetheatre.co.uk

Photo by Manuel Harlan

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“Saint George and the Dragon” at the National Theatre

The always excellent John Heffernan takes the title role in Rory Mullarkey’s new play and gives a truly heroic performance. But can he save the day and the play? Almost… yet not quite, although it’s still a pleasure to see him on stage. Looking at our national legend at the nation’s theatre is a neat idea, as is writing the story as a contemporary allegory (in three chapters). Unfortunately, this brave effort delivers too little.

The opening act, set in a parodied mediaeval world, gets the show off to a great start. With Pythonesque touches, Heffernan makes the foppish George a figure to laugh at, while retaining just the right amount of dignity. His damsel in distress in updated effectively by Amaka Okafor, making their courtship a lark. As for the Dragon, Julian Bleach has a great deal of fun playing his earthly form, camping it up terrifically. It’s all staged slickly by director Lyndsey Turner, with Rae Smith’s design looking great. It’s silly but it’s funny, charming even, and very enjoyable.

After a year George returns to his island home, which has undergone an industrialisation that has enslaved its people. The Dragon isn’t a monster, but “every system needs a master” and, suited and booted, he is bureaucracy incarnate. It’s another great turn from Bleach and his now imprisoned former henchman, played by Richard Goulding, does well from the confines of a prison set. But this time the dénouement is thin and unconvincing; the Dragon too easily vanquished. It’s simplistic and too predictable.

To continue with a lack of surprises, after another year, George returns again – this time to a version of the present. Cue skyscrapers descending on to the stage in a This Is Spinal Tap moment that Smith has had enough experience to have avoided. And that’s the least of the problems with this unhappily ever after ending. The Dragon continues incorporeal – his evil inside us all – and there’s no place for saints, nowadays. Heffernan excels as a George out of time and perfectly reflects the play’s questioning of heroes and heroics. But this is slim stuff for a long play, as the repetition indicates, as well as being bleak and naive. Both Mullarkey and Turner lose control with an overblown finale that’s uncomfortably messy. And really just downright silly.

Until 2 December 2017

www.nationaltheatre.org.uk

Photo by Johan Persson

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“The Goat, or Who is Sylvia?” at the Theatre Royal Haymarket

This first London revival of Edward Albee’s 2002 play, with Ian Rickson directing a stellar cast, reveals a piece that is riveting and risqué. A superb companion to Albee’s Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?, playing around the corner, it’s also a marital drama with high stakes. Our hero is having an affair… with a goat.

There’s a lot of shock value, cleverly handled. Albee plays with taboos in a fashion that would make younger writers from the ‘In Yer Face’ school proud. The nervous laughter of the audience would be gratifying to him. The language is colourful and its articulate characters – caught in a nightmarish situation – explore all manner of repercussions to the affair.

The cast are superb. Jason Hughes and Archie Madekwe stand as fully formed characters, best friend and son to Martin and Stevie Gray, the couple whose perfect lives didn’t contain a plan about what would happen in the face of zoophilia. It’s a bizarre twist – that’s the point – Albee even describes it as “ludicrous”.

Damian Lewis takes the part of Martin: great as the tortured victim of his obsession and even better when it comes to trying to defend his actions. Sophie Okonedo plays his unfortunate wife, giving a magnetic performance of subtle comic skill. Together they create a believably perfect marriage – think how difficult that is – that roots the show in a painful reality. And the life we see falling apart needs to be convincing: it is important Martin’s obsession is a bolt from the blue.

When the truth is revealed, the objets in the couple’s stylish apartment suffer during an amusingly respectful fighting match (credit to designer Rae Smith here, but also a busy stage management replacing all those broken pots). Martin the “semanticist” tries to pin down what’s going on – to describe facts and feelings. His odd forgetfulness and obsession with grammar are not just for laughs, and Lewis makes them edgy; showing the “pit” of chaos that’s arisen from a chance encounter in a farmyard! With admirable gusto, Rickson orchestrates a swirling mix of trauma, hilarity and shock – making this an awesome experience.

Until 24 June 2017

www.trh.co.uk

Photo by Johan Persson

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“This House” at the Garrick Theatre

James Graham’s play isn’t your regular political drama. Based on the flailing minority Labour government of the late 1970s, it looks at the mechanics of Parliament – the back-room antics of the whips, who make sure MPs vote. There are few names or issues that people will remember. And, instead of Machiavellian power brokers, the characters are misfit eccentrics, working hard in grubby anterooms. So the play’s transfer from the National Theatre’s Cottesloe, to the larger Olivier, and now, after a long wait, the West End, is a triumph for the young playwright, and his intelligent funny writing, which has warmed the critics’ hearts.

Honours are shared with director Jeremy Herrin, who handles the large cast impeccably. Nearly all the actors play more than one MP, each larger than life, and the sense of a building at work is conveyed with infectious energy. Counting the ‘ayes’ and ‘noes’ becomes nail-biting, while efforts to bribe or cajole coalitions are gripping. Add Rae Smith’s replica House of Commons set, with its onstage seating and bar, and you have a sense of fun that complements Graham’s great jokes.

Steffan Rhodri and Nathaniel Parker
Steffan Rhodri and Nathaniel Parker

This House is a brilliantly ambitious ensemble piece. Phil Daniels and Malcolm Sinclair are the chief whips, giving blissfully effortless performances. I probably don’t need to tell you they represent the Labour and Conservative parties, respectively. Praise, too, for Nathaniel Parker and Steffan Rhodri, playing their deputies, each with their own agenda and sombre moments that add humanity to the comedy. Much is made of the differences between the parties, with Labour louts calling their opponents the “aristotwats’, which seems to have struck Graham as particularly fascinating. If some jokes land heavily, relying on hindsight, they are still funny.

The research undertaken for the play is impressive, informative and conveys Parliament’s peculiar charm. Even better, Graham has a good stab at being impartial. How far he succeeds possibly depends on your own voting habits – but the stance of making a play about politics apolitical is dealt with well. That those in charge act like children is a point itself, although Graham is too good to fall for simplicity, showing passion and conviction from MPs of both parties. But the propensity to treat government like a game is clear and used to make brilliant drama.

Until 25 February 2017

www.thishouseplay.com

Photos by Johan Persson

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“The Veil” at the National Theatre

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As the nights draw in, what could be more apt than a ghost story? Conor McPherson’s new play, The Veil, aims to chill and thrill over the winter months at the National Theatre.

Set in early 19th-century Ireland, the local gentry, living in not so genteel poverty, and their staff are haunted by both the past and current events in their politically divided nation. Lady Lambroke looks to her daughter’s marriage as a way to escape debts and the country. Her brother, a clergyman defrocked for his interest in spiritualism, is to escort the girl to England for marriage, but his interest in his niece has more to do with her ‘gift’ for the supernatural.

Fenella Woolgar and Emily Taaffe make a convincing mother and daughter who, despite their snobbishness, gain our sympathy and admiration. Jim Norton plays the Reverend Berkeley (named for his interest in Idealism) in an appropriately intelligent style that’s passionate enough to convince us he believes his ideas, but leaves room for us to laugh as well.

The staff, including the redoubtable Mrs Goulding (the excellent Bríd Brennan), are a source of further drama. They come together on appropriate windy, candle-lit nights, as the ghost stories and séances get under way. McPherson directs these scenes wonderfully. Unfortunately, there isn’t much sense of time or place in The Veil and Rae Smith’s impressively designed set and costumes start to seem rather pointless – it all looks great but it isn’t put to enough use.

If McPherson wanted to achieve more than an entertaining evening of ghost stories it seems he has fallen short. Extra themes are hinted at yet never materialise. But The Veil is satisfying supernatural and is sure to appeal to his fans. The storytelling is as good as ever, his characters as likeable and well realised, and the language wonderfully lyrical.

Until 11 December 2011

www.nationaltheatre.org

Photo by Helen Warner

Written 5 October 2011 for The London Magazine

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“Season’s Greetings” at the National Theatre

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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