2019

“The Amber Trap” at Theatre 503

Here’s a strange situation – writing a review you don’t really want anyone to read. Because much of the success of Tabitha Mortiboy’s new play, staged with customary skill by Damsel Productions, comes with the journey it takes and the twist it contains. Do see it for that alone, as surprises in the theatre are memorable treats.

The Amber Trap opens on a gentle romance. Katie and Hope are lovers who work together in a small shop, and Oliva Rose Smith and Fanta Barrie make the young couple a pleasure to watch. Obviously, you know the course of this true love will get bumpy and, when gap-year would-be medic Michael arrives, youthful, keen and cute, it seems we’re in for a coming-of-age story. Here, the questioning of sexuality is nicely written and handled with sensitivity, yet might have a surer grasp of its comic potential.

Things become more serious and thought provoking – but not quickly. Director Hannah Hauer-King respects the text and doesn’t rush, lulling us into a false sense of security. The care Hauer-King takes is clear and convincing. In truth, the play isn’t quite long enough. The role of the shop’s manager, an older, soon-to-be divorcee, becomes a bit of a puzzle and proves a part that Jenny Bolt has to struggle with. But Hauer-King gives the show weight, with judicious pacing that demands pauses for thought.

The thinking that creeps up on us is a serious point – which should occupy us all, but often doesn’t – that shows Mortiboy has her finger on the pulse of debate. The play reveals Michael’s male, heterosexual gaze on the female, gay couple. I’m a little too squeamish to enjoy Mortiboy’s heavy metaphor with an eyeball, but it’s effective (just ask George Bataille). And the point that Michael demands control, with a chilling infantile glee, is important. His view of the women is on a spectrum of cheap thrills and insulting disbelief, while his crush on Hope becomes increasingly menacing.

Misha Butler

Michael’s impact on the couple is scary and all too real, and Katie and Hope’s responses of, respectively, fear and anger are on the nose. Rose Smith’s powerful reaction to a cheeky kiss Michael steals is salutary – this is not an act to dismiss (were you tempted to?). But it’s the role of Michael that is Mortiboy’s key move. His slight physicality, youth and status as the new arrival at work – all of which Misha Butler, who takes the part, carries well – cannot diminish his privileged position among the women. Michael’s sense of entitlement may be exaggerated for dramatic effect – and arguably the action turns nasty too quickly and too close to the end of the play – but, as his instability becomes obvious and his toxicity infectious, the bold structure makes the piece original, disturbing and rather brilliant.

Until 18 May 2019

www.theatre503.com

Photos by The Other Richard

2019

“Miss Julie” at the Jermyn Street Theatre

Howard Brenton’s long engagement with the master playwright August Strindberg has proved thoughtful and fruitful, with results here that are spectacular. No stranger to controversy in his own plays, Brenton is almost contrarian in his respect for his predecessor. And presenting Strindberg’s tale of a mistress who has an affair with her father’s valet so simply, with no burdening concept or take on the text to push, is a mark of confidence in the original that allows it to both shine and shock.

The direction from Tom Littler is masterful. With some boldly slow pacing that enforces naturalism and an impressive attention to detail, the play is gripping from the start. We first see the aristocratic household’s cook, Kristin, about her chores and waiting on that valet, Jean, who is also her fiancé. Establishing character through mundane actions is one of those things they teach you are drama school isn’t it? But I’ve seldom seen it done with more success that Dorothea Myer-Bennett’s efforts here. Based on the smallest gestures, the character fascinates, carefully becoming a complex and ultimately triumphant figure. Myer-Bennett’s close study pays off marvellously.

Along the way, we have the drama of Jean’s one-night stand with Julie. It is to Brenton’s credit that both get equal focus, aiding the theme of class conflict that powers his version and reflects Strindberg’s troubled relationships with women. The performances from Charlotte Hamblin and James Sheldon are excellent as they take us through Strindberg’s “serious game” of seduction with such precision. Sheldon works magic with his mercurial character, hot with anger and coldly rational by turns. And Hamblin is a true star in the title role, building Miss Julie’s mental instability for the first half, then going all out to become frightening and pitiful in equal measure.

Let’s not forget the importance of sexual chemistry – this is an erotic show and, as a mark of how smoothly Littler handles the twisted kinks, little skin is on show. It is also testament to the exactitude of the production that Kristin and Jean are such a believable couple: the shared cigarette or help with a bow tie become captivating touches. Their relationship raises the stakes and makes Julie’s plans for escape all the more fantastical. The mix of misandry and self-loathing from our heroine becomes increasingly uncomfortable in the small, one-room world Littler brings to life. It’s always an effort for a modern audience to appreciate the shame of a ‘fallen’ woman, so Brenton’s skill lies in showing this a play about more than sexual politics. And his triumph comes in making Miss Julie’s actions seem radical and tragic once more.

Playing in repertory with Howard Brenton’s version of Creditors until 1 June 2019

www.jermynstreettheatre.co.uk

2019

“Neck or Nothing” at the Pleasance Theatre

The idea behind Christopher Neels’ and Callum Cameron’s play has potential. Using an inventor to examine men’s mental health is a neat experiment. The agoraphobic oddball Jens makes an amenable hero, easily recognisable as a geek who attempts to deal with childhood trauma by creating an invincible suit and become a real-life superhero. It’s not a bad way to examine what might be thought a peculiarly masculine, yet distinct from macho, effort to escape from real problems and genuine discussion. Getting a laugh out of a serious topic is fine, but the jokes here just aren’t good enough. Ironically, the humour feels like a cop-out so that the play, like Jens, doesn’t engage with the big issues it raises.

Neels and Cameron also direct and are a little too indulgent with their text. This is a short show that drags at times and has too many tentative moments. But they are lucky with their cast, a trio of performers who manage to make the three main roles consistently appealing. James Murfitt takes the lead as Jens, likeable even during his delusions of grandeur, conveying his mania with refreshing subtlety. The support Jens obtains from his brother is credible through the efforts of David North, while his long-suffering partner becomes increasingly interesting in the capable hands of Katy Daghorn.

While the characters aren’t badly written, and are certainly well performed, the play’s structure is messy and there are too many questionable decisions along the way. Things are fine when we’re confined to Jens’ workshop/garage – his world is, by turns, entertaining and moving. But nearly all the other scenes are tacked on, a couple feel like sketches written for something else, and the cast are overwhelmed with extra roles that go nowhere. The action meanders and the conclusion is poor. You can bet that what the super suit should look like was a subject of debate with designer Sophia Pardon and the outcome is funny. But Neck or Nothing would feel much fuller if Jens had just a little more credibility and, as a result, his family more reason to indulge him. Pardon’s video projections, scenes from films and the bears that are the focus of Jens’ fears, are far more effective, but the show relies too heavily on them. It’s admirable that they provide structure and insight, but it’s unfortunate that they also highlight the script’s flaws.

Until 4 May 2019

www.pleasance.co.uk

Photo by Veronika Casarova

2019

“Three Sisters” at the Almeida Theatre

Cordelia Lynn’s new version of Chekhov’s masterpiece is bold and fresh to the point of being revelatory. Lynn enforces the play’s bleakness, with plenty of espousals that life is pointless, yet presents us with a perky trio who are approachable, recognisable and funny. There’s no shying away from the fact that Chekhov’s heroines have an air of the elite; you might ask them to check their privilege. But Lynn makes the struggles of each – in love and work, with the health of all three suffering – relatable, thought-provoking and moving.

Taking the three iconic sisters way past stereotype is not an easy task. Lynn’s muscular dialogue is well served by three performers who are excellent; it’s pleasingly impossible to single out either Pearl Chanda, Patsy Ferran or Ria Zmitrowicz, who all work well together. It’s fantastic to see how funny each can be in each character’s own particular way. Note the difference with the role of their sister-in-law, vividly portrayed Lois Chamimba, which comes into focus wonderfully: she’s a character we laugh at rather than with. Lynn has done justice to the play’s male characters, too. Her version retains some dignity for Elliot Levey’s cuckolded teacher, has sympathy (more than I) for the sister’s brother that Freddie Meredith does well with and uses Alan Williams’ Doctor to further focus themes. The role of Irena’s suitor is the big surprise, though; the character’s optimism comes to the fore as a foil… for a while. It’s a bonanza for Shubham Saraf, who takes the part.

Shubham Saraf and Ria Zmitrowicz

With superb performances and an exciting text, reservations risk sounding trivial, as they become matters of taste rather than criticism. The usually excellent designer Hildegard Bechtler has left the show looking a touch too modish. While not specifically updated or relocated, these three sisters are out of time and place, no matter how often Moscow is mentioned so all the mismatched chairs and Anglepoise lamps, along with the final scene played on bare ground (a big effort for little result), make the aesthetic too contemporary. And might director Rebecca Frecknall’s work also be a touch heavy handed? It’s easy to see the temptation. Several scenes are “all a bit strange”, with moments of staccato delivery and portentousness. Maybe Lynn, like the character Masha, is impatient with the “talk talk talk” in the play – she brings out ideas with sometimes blunt directness. Perhaps Frecknall should have tried to inject more subtlety? Alternatively, she reflects Lynn’s forcefulness and does justice to her vision. It’s a fine line that makes for a pleasing debate.

Until 2 June 2019

www.almeida.co.uk

Photo by Marc Brenner

2019

“Twelfth Night” at the Rose Playhouse

The Ovo Company’s version of Shakespeare’s comedy is set in the 1920s. For a further twist, most of the action takes place on a cruise ship. Both are jolly ideas, but it has to be pointed out the production doesn’t always roar and is not all plain sailing. Yet the show as a whole is diverting and, with just enough clever touches, its strengths are memorable.

Shakespeare has been much more vigorously mauled before now and, doubtless, will be again. The search for parallels in different ages pursued here aren’t unreasonable or uninteresting. But they do feel forced. While director Adam Nichols does well with staging in such a small space, the concepts need smoothing out and the edit is reckless: it’s questionable how much sense either plot or production would make if Twelfth Night weren’t so well known. And some of the characters suffer horribly, notably Feste the fool and Antonio, the devoted Captain, not fitting into the scheme at all. Firmer steering is needed with Anna Franklin’s Lady Toby Belch and Orsino, recast as Captain of the SS Illyria and played by Will Forester. Both characterisations contain too many puzzles and, at times, seem to belong to a different piece.

Moving to happier ground, the love story between Olivia, made into a modern material girl by Emma Watson, and the disguised Viola, depicted with charm and a surprising common touch by Lucy Crick, is funny as well as risqué. There’s a very nice turn from James Douglas as Aguecheek, a not very bright young thing, who does wonderfully well with this limited role. Also strong is Faith Turner who, following the National Theatre’s gender-swapping a couple of years ago, appears as Malvolia rather than Malvolio. With a touch of the blue stocking and plenty of repression, Turner ends up stealing the show.

The production really picks up steam with its music, which Nichols prioritises boldly to great effect. Using cover versions of pop songs, from Rihanna to Lady Gaga, is not new, but here it is employed with frequent wit and – thanks to musical director Tom Cagnoni – the versions themselves are, mostly, superb. The idea really comes into its own with Malvolia’s mistreatment at the end of the play. If anything, Nichols makes this distasteful episode more jarring than ever – which is a problem. But the take on what might be the world’s worst joke, here including a Radiohead song, is undoubtedly effective. The excellent Turner deserves the play’s last line. It will be difficult to see the character again without hearing the song Creep from now on – and that is a peculiarly special achievement.

Until 5 May 2019

www.ovotheatre.org.uk

Photo by Lou Morris

2019

“Tumulus”at the Soho Theatre

Theatre can never have enough thrillers for my liking so playwright Christopher Adams’ trip into my favourite genre is welcome. Setting his murder mystery amidst the sleazy ‘chem sex’ scene makes it topical. Touching themes of addiction and ageism make it serious. And movement director Natasha Harrison’s work should please a theatre crowd. But at heart Tumulus is a good thriller; with a solid plot, that unfolds nicely, and satisfying twists and turns, it makes for a hugely entertaining hour.

Let’s not knock the show’s arty touches. Sound effects are mostly provided by the cast – radio drama style – while minimal props are moved around balletically. It all adds atmosphere, by turns appropriately noirish and drug induced, as well as giving the cast a chance to shine. And director Matt Steinberg never allows the powerful sound and lighting design (from Christopher Nairne and Nick Manning respectively) to overwhelm the story. A dead body has been found on Hampstead Heath, dismissed by all as an overdose – part of an epidemic affecting young gay men – but the victim’s kind-of-boyfriend, Anthony, has his suspicions.

Harry Lister Smith

The clever twist lies with our unusual amateur detective who drives the show with his narration. Anthony, played with vigour and intelligence by Ciarán Owens, has demons and flaws as all sleuthing heroes must and they are depicted viscerally here. Addicted to drugs, slowly realizing how much the young man he was occasionally seeing meant to him, hallucinations are the instigation to his investigation. Ghostly visitations add a spooky edge to the show, made effective by the performance from Harry Lister Smith. He plays the ghost of the first victim, another former partner of Antony’s and a further young man in danger, flipping roles with consummate skill. The same technique, and ability, is seen with Ian Hallard’s performance of even more characters as he jumps between being a therapist, different party guests and even a dog walker who found the body. Hallard distinguishes each role carefully and makes the whole thing look effortless thereby aiding Steinberg’s success in keeping the whole show tight and speedy.

Ian Hallard

There’s still more to praise as Tumulus is also a funny play. Humour and suspense are a tricky combination and Adams does falter at times with a little too much repetition and a search for lyricism he doesn’t quite master. But with keen observations the laughs focusing on London life, which nicely root the action in time and place, are impressive. Hallard has some lovely comic touches and Owens a wryness around his character’s pretentions that adds depth. This take on the gumshoe anti-hero is compulsive stuff with careful nods to tradition that prove witty as well as aiding tension. Adams has a thorough knowledge of the genre – that includes the necessity for novelty – and he delivers. On all counts Tumulus adds up a great show.

Until 4 May 2019

www.sohotheatre.com

Photos by Darren Bell

2019

“Keep Watching” at the New Diorama Theatre

A company that’s well worth following, Engineer Theatre Collective’s new show is notable for its stylish looks and clever invention. The chosen subject matter is rich – our increasingly surveyed lives – and there’s no lack of ideas about depicting the contemporary condition. The cameras that surround us, the devices that are with us, and a sense of exhaustion are all impressively incorporated into the action. But the story itself is poor. And if you like your theatre with a strong narrative, this becomes a weakness on the part of a strong team. 

What little plot the play has is far too predictable. Arguments for or against technology – based on a balance between invading privacy and providing safety – are thin. The show ends up as a vague jeremiad on modern life in terms of a fear of being “swallowed up”, powerfully conveyed but with little outcome. There are far too many ideas set in motion and left unresolved. Engineer is a collective, remember? Maybe writer and dramaturg Jesse Fox has not been listened to quite enough? Simon Lyshon’s direction is tight from scene to scene, but there’s a lack of detail in favour of a general atmosphere.

Nonetheless, the execution is excellent. There are three strong performers. The action focuses on Luyanda Unati Lewis-Nyawo, who plays a surveillance operative who inveigles herself into the life of Kat, an emotionally fragile nurse played by Beatrice Scirocchi. Wonders are worked with underdeveloped roles by both actors. Meanwhile, George Evans holds his own as a brother in trouble, who also makes a great deal out of little. And this is a real ensemble piece as the performers take over the scene changes and leap into extra roles. More highlights come with excellent sound and lighting design, from Dom Kennedy and Bethany Gupwell, respectively. It’s exciting to see so much creativity, and that much of it is so simple and low-tech impresses all the more. It’s the company rather than this piece that deserves continued observation.

Until 4 May 2019

www.newdiorama.com

Until 4 May 2019

2019

“9 to 5” at the Savoy Theatre

The legendary Dolly Parton’s first musical, based on the 1980 film that she starred in, does everything it can to entertain. The songs are good, of course, not just the back catalogue used but numbers written for the show. And the additional lyrics to that famous title number are frequently smart. Unfortunately, despite a large crew of orchestrators and arrangers, the production does not service Parton’s music well; it all sound tinny and simplistic. The show is feelgood for most of the time, but the fun is forced. Atmosphere is fought for with gritted teeth and forced smiles, which ends up self-defeating.

Many of the flaws come from the book by Patricia Resnick, who adapts her original screenplay – about secretaries taking over from their tyrannical boss – far too faithfully. Not enough attention is paid to the fact that this is a period piece (Tom Rogers’ design could help a bit more) with the uncomfortable result that the sexism the show condemns makes up most of its humour. In what’s supposed to be a comedy, the jokes become an increasing problem. Unfortunately, our trio of career women struggle too much to land the pretty poor material. Again, the shadow of the film – with three talented comedians – overshadows the stage show. 

Louise Redknapp plays Violet (until 29 June, in case you’re interested), the competent businesswoman passed over for men she has trained. Redknapp has stage presence and is a personality you want to like. But seeing how hard she is trying becomes uncomfortable. She can sing and does well with a big glam number that really isn’t much cop, but she is not an actor and her accent is painful. Amber Davies plays the recently divorced Judy (inexplicably recast as a young woman) and doesn’t seem to try with the accent at all. When she’s not sobbing loudly, she sounds shrill. Natalie McQueen takes a different tack with Doralee, the Dolly Parton role, and ends up leading the show (which isn’t quite the idea). Presented as a caricature of the great woman herself, she’s nice and cheeky and at least looks as if she’s having fun. Director Jeff Calhoun seems to have left each performer to their own devices and the result is a mess.

For the rest of the laughs, Brian Conley plays the infamous boss Franklin Hart Jr and manages to get some pretty moronic jokes literally off the ground. But note, he isn’t in a character at all and murders the songs, not because he can’t sing, but because he’s playing everything so cheaply. Thank heavens for Bonnie Langford who plays office termagant Roz to camp perfection; her lust for Hart is hilarious and Langford hams it up to the heavens while looking as if she’s barely breaking a sweat. Langford gauges the tenor of the show, leaving everyone else behind. She even takes a bow better than the rest of this workaday crew.

Until 31 August 2019

9to5themusical.co.uk

Photo by Simon Turtle

2019

“The Last Will and Testament of Henry Van Dyke” at the Tabard Theatre

This meta-theatrical sketch makes a neat and sweet debut for its writer Karrim Jalali. Along the way you might think it’s about friendship, documenting the bromance between two young men. Or that it concerns creativity, with a debate about art and the sacrifices it requires. But the text itself is adamant: it’s simply two mates talking about making a play and retelling events that have just happened. One guy thinks he’s had a genius idea. The other wants to set him straight. There’s your theatrical conflict and, with the help of two great actors, this clever little notion is handled superbly.

It’s admitted by the performers that there’s no action or plot. And explicit that a story is only being played with. Pointing out potential flaws, along with the suggestion that doing so is a defence for the writer, gets a lot of laughs and brings us closest to Jalali’s aims. The play is full of games, both smart and silly, double bluffs and downright nonsense, that added together with charm make The Last Will and Testament of Henry Van Dyke five-star smart and funny.

There are plenty of plays that reference the theatre and many of them are mentioned here. But what sets Jalali apart is an openness and sincerity that’s especially appealing. It’s nice that he’s done his homework but, more unusually, he’s careful not to show off about it. Much of the affable mood created can be credited to Joy Harrison’s snappy direction – there’s no doubt talk of structure and theory can get dry quickly and she prevents this. But the wonderful intimacy shared between these friends, carefully avoiding any suggestion of a theatrical clique, comes down to the excellent, warm performances of Nathan Wright and Niall Murphy.

That the characters don’t have names is one in joke that annoys – will writers please stop doing this. But this odd couple are completely believable as old friends, their comic timing helps Jalali immeasurably and they become guys you’d want to hang out with. Nathon Wright’s Person 1 is a wonderful mix of enthusiasm and lethargy. Niall Murphy’s Person 2 is full of geeky facts with a healthy suspicion of any urban legend. They are both funny and approachable. Ultimately a lesson is offered, contrasting too narrow a definition of creativity, which Murphy’s character punishes himself over, with Wright’s role showing the way. In art, just trying does count for something; writing any play is an achievement, it’s something brave. There’s an appeal to the audience that’s heartfelt and endearing. Another stab at being critic-proof? Maybe, but I’ll for fall it.

Until 27 April 2019

www.tabardtheatre.co.uk

2019

“Top Girls” at the National Theatre

Lyndsey Turner’s revival of Caryl Churchill’s classic play has a reverential air. With such variety in the writing – starting with a fantasy dinner party, turning into a domestic drama and becoming increasingly political – there’s no doubting the text’s importance. But in this staging, the humour in the writing stumbles, the edge is blunted and the production is luxurious to a fault.

The novel, and expensive, move is not to double up roles as most productions of the play do. So performers playing guests at the opening scene, women from different cultures and times, don’t reappear in other roles. Using actors the calibre of Amanda Lawrence, Siobhán Redmond and Ashley McGuire for just one scene seems positively wasteful and it also isolates the brilliantly bizarre prologue scene.

There can be no quibbles about the cast – or Turner’s massive investment in them. The play is capably driven by Katherine Kingsley as the highflying executive whose success we scrutinise. And there are strong performances from Liv Hill and Lucy Black as her estranged family. It’s possible these roles don’t have to have be portrayed as quite so downtrodden – Churchill’s point is still made if they are just ‘normal’ people – but the play’s themes of inequality and individuality are depressingly pertinent.

Ian MacNeil’s design is bold in its variety of spaces – restaurant, office and home are all very different – and the scene changes are impressive. And dealing so well with characters speaking over one another gets more praise for Turner. In short, the production is without question technically accomplished. But is all this sleek professionalism necessary? Or appropriate? Does a dinner party with the long dead or fictional characters need so stylish a setting? Or the shabby world of corporate recruitment have to look so lush? Turner has too much respect for Churchill’s work not to present it impeccably, but the play is strong enough for productions to take a more inventive approach with it. There’s a disappointing lack of energy, or anger, that seems inappropriate: Churchill’s message is there, but the challenge is not.

Until 20 July 2019

www.nationaltheatre.org.uk

Photo by Johan Persson