Primo - Review

*****

Antony Sher

Adapted by Antony Sher from If This Is A Man by Primo Levi

Directed by Richard Wilson

The film of Primo,  Antony Sher's translation of Primo Levi's  If This Is A Man from page to stage, has recently been released to stream by Digital Theatre. Made in 2005, the movie is directed by Richard Wilson who also helmed the original 2004 Royal National Theatre production.

Levi's work is an opus on the horrendous scale of the horrors of the Holocaust, but viewed from his very singular perspective as a man who was not only subject to the nightmares of the concentration camps, but who ultimately survived Auschwitz. Sher's interpretation of Levi's testimony is a tour de force.

The brutality of the Holocaust so often spelled out in the scale of its slaughter, is reduced by Levi to the minutiae of individual humans, the unimaginable detail of their lives and deaths in the hell of Auschwitz, but described with a harrowing eye for detail. From the glimpses of passing stations and landscapes, momentarily seen through the gaps in his cattle truck's walls, through to recognising the provenance of different camp inmates through the number tattooed on their arm, it is the detailed horrific picture painted by Levi’s, and ultimately Sher’s, words that define this unique narrative.

Hildegard Bechtler has designed a stage that is bare save for a solitary chair, amidst Paul Pyant’s stark but carefully plotted lighting designs. A haunting cello accompaniment from Jonathan Goldstein underlies Sher's eloquent reverence as his spoken narrative transports the audience/viewer from Italy through Austria, Czechoslovakia and ultimately Poland, all under the malevolent control of the Third Reich. 

Levi died in April 1987 and Sher much more recently in December 2021. The recording of this drama is a tribute to them both – it is unmissable.

To access the film click here https://www.digitaltheatre.com/watch/41413292

King Lear - Review

Barbican Theatre, London

*****

Written by William Shakespeare

Directed by Gregory Doran

Antony Sher and David Troughton

Transferring in to London from Stratford, Antony Sher's Lear is a Shakespearean masterclass. With no headline-grabbing casting to this, one of Shakespeare's greatest works, the production is a company-driven gem that is led by the RSC's seasoned bill-topper who's more than earned the right to make the role his own.

Doran plays it just a little bit fast and loose with his time zones. There's a pre-Christian paganism to the whole affair, that's punctuated only by a disconcerting (even if rather wonderful) grindhouse-inspired, fluorescently lit glass box for Gloucester’s glorious blinding scene.

There's also a disappointingly politically correct approach to some of the text. Lear tells us on Cordelia's death that her voice was indeed ever "soft, gentle and low", however the Bard's next line, declaring such qualities "an excellent thing in woman” has been shamefully chopped by Doran. Likewise the Fool (fine work from Graham Turner), who typically bows out with an enigmatic reference to his bedtime, is here imbued with an additional dozen or so lines that wistfully lead the audience into the interval.

That juxtaposition means of course that the second half kicks off with act three's final scene and as mentioned above, it's an absolute blinder. There's nothing quite like arcs of blood and smeared vile jelly to truly make one appreciate that interval G&T or vanilla tub!

But enough of the rip-roaring violence (and Bret Yount’s swordfight direction is excellent too), what makes this Lear one of the greats is the sheer beauty of the actors' craft. Sher is clad in majestic robes of thick animal skin, truly looking every inch the king – making the sight of him reduced to a vest and long johns in the latter scenes of his decline, all the more pitiful.

More than just the visuals though, Sher's mastery of the prose is unsurpassed. For years he has been honing his craft on the greatest works in English literature and there is a palpable sense of a pinnacle being attained in his performance. Rarely does one see Lear's molten act one anger, flow so believably into the heartbroken loving tragedy of the final scenes. And when Sher pleads with his daughters to be allowed his retinue of knights, the speech has rarely been spoken with such moving passion.

Sher's excellence permeates the company. David Troughton’s Gloucester truly stumbles when he saw, with the pathos that develops between him and Oliver Johnstone as Edgar, perfectly nuanced. Not long out of Hamlet's inky cloak Paapa Essiedu's Edmund is a believingly irresistible bastard and in what with this being the panto season 'n all, it’s hard to resist the temptation to boo his delicious devilry. Antony Byrne's Kent is beautifully weighted too.

Continuing her debut RSC season, Natalie Simpson brings a youthful and honest credibility to Cordelia. Lear's youngest daughter has always been a woman ahead of her time with Simpson's interpretation defining the role for the 21st century. Alongside her and continuing the panto analogy, Kelly Williams and Nina Gwynne's Regan and Goneril are wonderfully monstrous sisters (oh yes they are!). Gwynne in particular touching our hearts as she reels at Lear's barbaric curse upon her of sterility.

This being the RSC, no expense is spared and the 6 piece band high above the stage deliver Ilona Sekacz's compositions with a tender elegance that only complements Niki Turners evocative stage design.

Only on for two more weeks and unmissable too. Reason not the need - just get to the Barbican before Christmas. 

Runs until 23rd December
Photo credit: Ellie Kurtz

King Lear - Review

Royal Shakespeare Theatre, Stratford Upon Avon


*****


Written by William Shakespeare
Directed by Gregory Doran

Nia Gwynne, Natalie Simpson, Antony Sher and Kelly Williams

William Shakespeare's tragedy depicting the 17th Century King's descent into madness has been given a pared down, modern retelling by director Gregory Doran in this new production at the RSC. The audience draw is clearly Antony Sher, taking on the eponymous role (the Stratford run is apparently returns only) but this production has much to commend it.

King Lear decides to abdicate & divide his kingdom between his three daughters. He asks each of them to make a public declaration of their love for him. When his youngest daughter, Cordelia, (Natalie Simpson) refuses, she is disinherited, marries the King of France with no dowry & the elder daughters Goneril (Nia Gwynne) & Regan (Kelly Williams) inherit. And so the story of destruction begins. 

From the outset, the seemingly monastic set, looming bare brick walls & a huge rear iron door, invite us to the openness of the Swan stage. Set designer Niki Turner has created a world of angles, cubes & clean simplicity. The costumes would not look out of place on a couture runway; the female gowns are artful, flowing but with bodice structure or faux breastplates, rhinestone embellishment or matte sequin "armour". However exquisite, the costumes never overshadow the actors but seem to empower them.

When Antony Sher enters, carried aloft within a gilt glass box, enveloped in an enormous fur coat and hat, he looks majestically ursine. His Lear appears huge when the audience first encounters him, both in stature and arrogance. Sher proceeds to disintegrate before our eyes, mentally and physically, totally engaging the audience throughout the 3 hour duration. Even within the play's unremitting bleakness, Sher keeps the man behind the monarch the pivotal focus.

An exciting and diverse cast move across the stage seamlessly. Doran's deft direction allows the actors' performances to flourish, unencumbered, allowing Shakespeare's text to sing. This is a version vicious, visceral and venomous.

James Clyde as the Duke Of Cornwall and Kelly William's Regan open Act 2 with a scene of torture, which is bold but quite brilliant in the way the actors convey the utter callousness and casual acceptance of their evil. He takes out a man's eyes as the blood drips through his hands and she stabs a servant who protests as if crushing a spider. In a neon glass torture chamber cube, centre stage, they are delightfully despicable. Tim Mitchell's lighting is akin to an unnamed character here, highlighting the macabre.

David Troughton brings a heartfelt realism to the Earl of Gloucester, a man who disinherits his legitimate son Edgar and believing the lies of his bastard son Edmund, is forced into hiding to save his life. His later scenes were poignant and physically compelling whilst cast-out in the unknown, dealing with blindness. 

Graham Turners' Fool has the commitment of an old Broadway hoofer with an infectious Northern confidence. Both actors have integral scenes with Sher's Lear that are so warm & connected, you completely believe the relationships of these men are endearingly enduring.

As Edgar, Oliver Johnstone is tremendously exciting, using every inch of the stage, blood stained, conveying a manic craziness to his very toenails. Johnstone's physical acting is bold & top notch. Concealing his true identity to his blinded father, you can almost smell the frustration and pain from Johnstone. Head in hands his body expresses as much as his words do.

And then there was Paapa Essiedu. He plays Edmund with such authority and conviction it's startling. His delightful diction makes bullets of choice words; he brings a modern voice to this Shakespeare text as if hearing the speeches anew. When you feel like someone's up on the stage just chatting with you, something good is happening. Mr Essiedu does that. And the audience lapped it up. 

Sher is outstanding in this marvellous rendition but what elevates this production is the cast working together in harmony, telling a well-told tale, in a new and vibrant way. Truly a great night at the theatre.

Runs in Stratford upon Avon until 23rd October, then transferring to the Barbican Theatre London from 10th November to 23rd December

Reviewed by Andy Bee

Photo credit : Ellie Kurttz

King and Country. Shakespeare's Great Cycle of Kings - Review

A complete cycle of Richard II, Henry IV Parts I & II and Henry V

Barbican Centre, London

*****

Written by William Shakespeare

Directed by Greg Doran

The RSC’s opening to Shakespeare's 400th anniversary year could neither have been more extraordinary nor ambitious: the full cycle of the Henriad performed as an entire historical epic. 

The four shows which in their original productions were already examples of English theatre at its finest, achieve new depth and strength when witnessed as a single event. Being able to follow the development of the characters from the very beginning and through each play is an enlightening and immersive experience for the audience and no doubt for the actors too. 

Looking at Richard II, Henry IV and Henry V in temporal continuity, one after the other gives a new perspective to their deeds and emotions: they appear more human, less kings, no longer absolute protagonists of their own single play but parts of a greater scenario. 

The set, ingeniously designed by Stephen Brimson Lewis and thanks to impressive projections on curtains of small metallic chains, becomes the unchanging historical frame. The throne, the crown, the arches of Westminster are always there, unchanging throughout the years, real grandiose witnesses of the fate of King after King who inhabits them.

From that fresh perspective Richard II, Henry IV and Henry V are merely men: weak, brave, vicious, self-questioning, strong, doubtful, destined to pass, to die – their deaths to be regretted later, even by those who killed or betrayed them. To see the complete tetralogy helps us to read this clearly: the history of the country and the stories of those men. 

For the successful delivery of such a unique venture the director Greg Doran can count on the truly astonishing abilities of a stellar cast led by David Tennant as Richard II, Jasper Britton as Bolingbroke/Henry IV, Alex Hassell as Prince Hal/Henry V and Antony Sher as Sir John Falstaff.

Tennant’s Richard II conveys brilliantly the complex inner struggle of the last medieval king. Successor to Edward III, Richard II and ascending the throne when he was just 10 years old, he firmly believed he was entitled to the power by God. Shakespeare shrewdly sets the action during the last period of his reign when he was more a corrupted and self-obsessed tyrant than a king. The audience knows this, but nonetheless his astonishment and suffering at being deposed by mere mortal men are so engagingly portrayed by Tennant that it proves almost impossible not to sympathise. 

Where Tennant’s Richard is pure nerves and aristocratic snobbery, Jasper Britton’s Bolingbroke (later Henry IV) is a neat and solid presence from his first entrance. If, as I have already said, no-one can avoid feeling Richard’s sorrow, it is at the same time equally impossible to perceive Bolingbroke as a wicked usurper. Seen via the three works, his becoming Henry IV appears just a step on the path of history towards newer, more modern times.

Henry IV's and Henry V’s development through the cycle is reason enough in itself to participate in the whole event. Jasper Britton’s performance is magnificent and flawless: from fighting soldier to strong king to ill monarch he is at every moment utterly convincing. 

But it is with Alex Hassell’s Prince Hal/Henry V that we have the real crescendo. Hassell’s ability to transform from a daredevil Prince of Wales to a warrior King to a clumsy lover is mesmerising, especially as he achieves such results with a more naturalistic, lower-key delivery. We are not in the presence of a self-conscious King, what we have here is a great human monarch who is trying to learn how to build himself and his country.

Obviously the transformation from being Prince Hal to becoming King Henry V would not be so credible without the hulking presence of Antony Sher’s Falstaff. The jovially immoral friend of binges is played with a mix of practical common sense and jolly enthusiasm by Sher. The scene of their last meeting has the power to sound like the end of an era. The childish Prince is dead, long live the King.

On this unmissable occasion the leading men have the support not only of a superb cast but also of virtuoso live musicians in delivering the most sublime theatrical and Shakespearian experience seen in a long while. Twelve hours over three days may not seem right for everyone, but it truly is a unique event and a commitment you won't regret.

Runs until January 24th.

Guest Reviewer Simona Negretto

Alex Hassell In Conversation

As the RSC cycle of Shakespeare's Histories arrives at London’s Barbican Theatre, Alex Hassell appears first as Hal in Henry IV Pts 1 & 2, before maturing into the series' Henry V.  

35 years old and with enviably chiselled features, whilst not yet a household name, Hassell is commanding increasing respect. It was only last month that he achieved a podium finish as a Best Supporting Performance nominee in the 2015 UK Theatre awards for his portrayal of Biff in the RSC's acclaimed revival of Death Of A Salesman.

Shortly before Henry V opened, I interviewed Alex at the RSC’s London rehearsal rooms, to learn a little more about this impressive young performer and to talk about his Hal, Henry and Biff.

Alex Hassell as Hal in Henry IV Pt ii

Jonathan: Tell me about the career journey that has brought you to the RSC

Alex: I grew up in Essex. When I was 12, I went to see a musical called The Rock Nativity and just instantly knew that I wanted to be an actor. 

Near where I lived there was just musicals. There weren't many straight plays, so I grew up just spending every spare moment dancing lessons and singing lessons and all of that. Dozens of musicals and then went to the Junior Guildhall School of Music and Drama on Saturdays and started to get into Shakespeare and was Hamlet at school when I was about seventeen and where I had a brilliant English teacher, Mrs Stroud, who really inspired the whole class.

From there I went to train at the Central School of Speech and Drama and after a while I was lucky enough to end up at the Globe where I played in Mark Rylance’s last season. That was a massive, massive deal for me. It led to Tim Carroll and myself setting up The Factory Theatre Company in 2006 which presents an alternative take on Shakespeare. Our work was well received with a strong following – and that was where I was ultimately noticed by The RSC.

Jonathan: The transition from Prince Hal in the Henry IV plays, to King Henry V is rarely performed by the same actor these days. What are your observations on accomplishing this development?

Alex: Of course it has been done before – though when we get to the Barbican and you can see Richard II, Henry IV i & ii and Henry V in like three or four days. I don't know if they’ve necessarily done that. 

To be honest I would find it really strange, the notion of just playing Henry V because there's so much that is to do with it being the guy that was just Hal in Henry IV i & ii becoming Henry V. That to me seems massively what the play is about, or what his journey is about anyway.

It's very, fascinating, because the idea, I believe, that Hal was a wayward youth is Shakespeare's invention. Also, the speech at the beginning of Henry IV pt i about, "I know you all, and will awhile uphold The unyoked humour of your idleness ... " About the idea that he's biding his time or whatever, or he's undercover, or something like that and that he's then going to amaze everyone at a later date when he turns it all around. That where that is paying off in the course of the three plays and where that becomes true, if it wasn't true in the first place, I think is very interesting. 

I think if you don't do both parts of Henry IV then Hal's relationship to God is different, Hal's relationship with going to France would be is different, because there are different motives suggested for going to France and for me it seems very useful to remember that as Henry V, my father's dying wishes were that I go to France and that I galvanize the kingdom behind me through that action.

Having Hal be the same person shows his change. He develops and grows as a person, but it's not like it's a different person. It's the same person, so his vulnerability and frailty and self-doubt and at times, I think, self-loathing, fear and dissatisfaction and not wanting to be there, not wanting to be in that role is all still in there somewhere, but he cannot allow it to overwhelm him.

Hassell as Henry V

Jonathan: How do you see that Henry V speaks to Britain today from the perspectives of royalty, monarchy and conflict?

Alex: I think that we've discovered looking through it that it's a play about the cost of war. I don't think it's pro-war. I think in some areas the characters are pro-war and in some areas the characters are anti-war and the same characters can be both.

I don't think the play comes down either way, but I think it's exploring the complexities of war and that what it takes to lead people to war. What it costs you and costs them and why people might go to war. The differing reasons that people might go to war and how maybe God and things like that can be appropriated into those missions. I think it asks more questions than it answers, so I don't think it speaks to us these days in terms of saying, "This is what we are saying. This is what the play is saying about war."

Or take the Governor of Harfleur, for example and what would you do if a king was saying this to you and was threatening to kill and rape your women? What would you do? Would you give up or not? I think that's what the play is asking of us and I think that is an incredibly universal and a timeless set of questions really. I'm really pleased that we're not setting it in a particular time really, or not applying it to a certain war. In fact, we're unusual as a production of Henry V that there's not a war that we are currently fighting that this would be a mirror to, which I think is good. 

Jonathan: You've performed with Sir Antony Sher a great deal now. Can you describe working with him? 

Alex: He's an amazing actor, obviously. Incredibly detailed and his work, his dedication and the sort of hours he puts in and the focus he has on every tiny little detail is really very impressive. He sort of carves out a kind of astonishing statue. He essentially starts with a big block and carves out these tiny, tiny little details so by the end you see this full picture. I think he wants to breathe life into that picture every time, but not deviate too much from it because it's a full, fully realized and extremely well put together and well crafted portrait of a person, whereas I am much more chaotic! It was very exciting for me to be riffing with someone of Tony's ability and quality obviously, but I think it was exciting for him too, to every now and then go, "Oh, I'm out of my comfort zone. I don't know what happens if we do this. I don't know where we end up." It's exciting to throw one another at each other's mercy, especially in Death of a Salesman, which is immensely emotionally fraught and connected.

Antony Sher as Willy Loman (l) w Hassell as Biff

Jonathan: And a complete change of tack for you with your portrayal of Biff in Death of a Salesman, again opposite Sher as Willy Loman. Tell me about taking that 1940’s character into 2015 and what do you think he’s saying? 

Alex: I guess, I don't know about my take on Biff, but I guess the play's take on Biff is, which for an actor is a very useful thing to think about, is to just attempt to be okay with who you are. To do the old AA thing, or whatever. “Change what you think you can change and be okay with the things that you can't change.” If only Willie had learned to do that. Biff I think is trying to do that. I think that is Biff's desire in the play, really, is to find out who he is and try and be okay with who he is. It becomes so moving. It is truly one of the best plays ever written.

Why I want to be an actor is to be given the privilege to get up in front of people and attempt to express and embody the things that they are embarrassed about themselves to have known to other people.

There were a number of times when I would come out of the stage door and young people would want me to hold them because they had felt Biff had represented them and would be crying and would ask me to talk to them about it, which was astonishing really.

Some young people feel and I completely understand, feel lost and feel that they can't live up to the pressure that the world, or their parents, or themselves are putting onto them. I feel that myself as an actor. I put myself under an enormous pressure as an actor and I can fail my own idea of what I think I should be very frequently. It was interesting. I can understand what they're saying.

And then there would be times when we would come out and there would be older men that might have wanted to say something but couldn’t speak because they were so moved. Sometimes they might just say something like, "He was just like someone I know." That was all they'd say.

Lots of people have lots of ways into that play. If you are someone struggling to live up to an idea of yourself. If you are a maligned younger sibling, or an older sibling, or whatever. If you're a partner who's trying to keep the family together despite it spiraling out of control.If you're a next door neighbor or a friend who knows people you don't know how to help, but you can see that something ... If you began to unpick them they would crumble, so what do you do? You just stand by in horror and see it happen. Yes, I feel very moved by being given the opportunity to attempt to live up to that play and embody that play for audiences because it has such power.

I feel very profoundly proud to have been part of something seemed to have the capacity to move people in the way that it did.

Jonathan: And the future. ?

Alex: Ah… of course I would love to play Hamlet in a production with stuff!

It's interesting. I'm a lot older now, and actually my dad has died since I last did it at The Factory, and not that I have a desire to use that or anything like that, but it would be very interesting to have that in my life experience now if that were ever to come up again.

I can be in the bath and suddenly realize that I'm going over the lines of, just sort of exploring them. Hamlet is a play that constantly comes back. You can't ever get it all. You can't ever work it out and pin it all down, and that's what's so amazing about it.

Jonathan: What was your take as someone who today is leading an RSC company in one of Shakespeare's major plays, on the recent publicity that surrounded the Cumberbatch Hamlet?

Alex: I think any hype about theatre is probably a good thing though I do think the critics shouldn't have gone in before they were supposed to.

I would love to be in Benedict Cumberbatch's position and I hope to be one day, and I'm still striving to do so, but there's something I find pleasurable in no one knowing who I am…

Jonathan: Not exactly no one….

Alex: What it feels like at the moment is that I'll go and play Henry V and I know that there are a certain number of the audience that will have seen the other things that I’ve done and are there, hopefully, because they're excited of the notion of me playing Henry V, and that's great. But I know that I've got to this position because Greg Doran thinks I'm good enough to be there.

And that’s good enough for me.

Death Of A Salesman - Review

Noel Coward Theatre, London

*****

Written by Arthur Miller

Directed by Greg Doran

Antony Sher and Alex Hassell

Plaudits have already been heaped on Antony Sher’s performance as Willy Loman in Greg Doran’s scorching production of Death Of A Salesman for the RSC.  Arthur Miller’s keynote play, long held up as a searching critique of the 20th century American psyche, pitches Sher into a role that sees him suicidally depressed, hurled onto the scrap heap and casually catapulted between imaginary decades at the playwright's whim. Often referred to as the Hamlet of American literature, Sher's immersion in the role is total as he nails Loman’s doomed fragility.

And yet the Hamlet “handle” serves the play well, for as with Shakespeare's classic, so too does the (last) day in this salesman's life encapsulate so much of the human condition, as Willy's mind disintegrates and we witness snapshots of years gone by.

Central to Loman's life is his family and as I have written here, Harriet Walter's interpretation of loyal, even if wise and wrung-out wife Linda, is heartbreaking in its intensity.

In one of the most challenging supporting roles in the canon, Alex Hassell's Biff, their eldest son undertakes a complex journey. Hassell convinces magnificently, be it as a gorgeously chiselled footballing jock, or as a devastated young man confronted with the gut-wrenching evidence of his father's failings.

Less enigmatic, but still troubled is Sam Marks’ Happy, Biff’s younger brother. Whilst at times little more than a skirt-chasing wastrel, Happy shows not only the expected selfish traits, but also a deep and recognisable filial love for his parents.

Harriet Walter, Sam Marks and Alex Hassell

And then there are the other oh-so brilliantly familiar vignettes, epic yet everyman. Emotional hand grenades that Miller tosses into Loman's path. Struggling to meet the final payment on the family refrigerator, Willy asks to meet with Howard Wagner (fine work from Tobias Beer), his young and ruthless boss and a man who thinks nothing of blowing $100 dollars on the latest new-fangled tape recorder, unthinkingly boasting about it to Loman who is can't even meet thr finance payments on his refrigerator.

As the old man begs for a salary, an office based job and his dignity, he is up against Wagner who cares only for his business’ bottom line. As Wagner summarily fires him on the spot, with no regard for the salesman's lifetime of service to the company, Loman reminds him: "You can’t eat the orange and throw the peel away — a man is not a piece of fruit". Rarely is the brutality of corporate USA thrown into such sharp relief.

Meanwhile (and consider yet another Hamlet association) Guy Paul's ghostly Uncle Ben appears to Loman's enviously fractured mind. A self-made millionaire, Ben should epitomise the American Dream. It is a stroke of genius that Miller makes him a nightmarish phantom.

But the Land Of The Free is not all bad. Willy's long-time friend and neighbour is Charley. As Joshua Richards plays this goodly, decent man, who as son Bernard (another perfectly weighted performance from Brodie Ross) grows up to be a Supreme Court lawyer, we are reminded that success, built on merit with compassion, is also a part of what made America great.

Completing the landscape of post-war New York / New England Sarah Parks’ Woman, and Ross Green’s wry Waiter, both of whom “have seen it all before” add further lustre to Miller’s palette.

Stephen Brimson Lewis’ set, constructed according to Miller’s notes and with signature tenement fire escapes, is nicely zoomed in from its Stratford origins which only enhances the cramped confines of the Loman home. Paul Englishby’s quartet of musicians seals both time and place.

It bodes well for this brief West End run that as the curtain fell, the packed house saluted Sher and his company with rapturous applause. Garnering a slew of five star reviews at its Stratford opening last month, the acclaim is still deserved. London is unlikely to see a better ensemble drama this year.

To read my interview with Harriet Walter and her analysis of the role of Linda, click here

To read my review of this production at Stratford, click here

Now booking until 18th July 2015

Harriet Walter : In Conversation about Linda in Death Of A Salesman

Harriet Walter

For my review of the current West End production of Death Of A Salesman, click here 

Rarely has a show moved to the West End at the lightning speed with which the RSC have transferred Death Of A Salesman. Opening in Stratford upon Avon only last month, to rave reviews across the board, Greg Doran's interpretation of the Arthur Miller classic features Antony Sher as Willy Loman, the titular doomed salesman.

It is Harriet Walter however, one of our finest performers and arguably the RSC's leading lady of her generation, who plays opposite Sher as Linda, Loman's long suffering spouse.

Having reviewed the Stratford production, I can confirm that both actors deliver virtuoso performances - with Walter in particular giving a finely tuned display of loving loyalty, made all the more excruciating as she witnesses her family disintegrate before her eyes. Few playwrights have offered such a devastating analysis of the complexities of marriage and maternity as Arthur Miller does with Linda.

The RSC company were completing their rehearsals last week, prior to opening at London's Noel Coward Theatre, when I caught up over lunch with Harriet to learn more about her remarkable interpretation of Linda.  

Death Of A Salesman - Review

Royal Shakespeare Theatre, Stratford upon Avon

*****

Written by Arthur Miller

Directed by Greg Doran

Harriet Walter and Antony Sher

To read my interview with Harriet Walter and her analysis of the role of Linda, click here

Death Of A Salesman not only marks the centenary of Arthur Miller’s birth, but in Greg Doran’s production being staged over Shakespeare’s April birthday, is also the RSC’s jewel in its 2015 crown.

Widely acclaimed as the greatest American play, we witness a meticulous dissection of the last 24 hours of Willy Loman’s life. His sales are flagging, buyers won’t see him anymore and he has been reduced to “commission only” by his young and ruthless boss Howard, a man who (in one of many moments of Miller’s cruel perception) Willy has watched grow up from boyhood to inherit his family's business. The mounting finance bills on car (and hellishly, even the refrigerator) remind us of the domestic pressures that Antony Sher's Willy can never escape.

As guilt and failure take their toll on Loman, we see early on how wise his wife (Harriet Walter's Linda) is to his confusion. “Your mind is overactive, and the mind is what counts, dear.” But she is being kind. As act one unfolds, Harriet Walter delivers one of the most devastating female performances, telling sons Biff and Happy that not only is she fully aware of Willy’s suicidal depression, but that she cannot let him know that she knows, for such a revelation would destroy him. Linda’s strength as a wife and mother, desperate to glue her family together is a recognisable pain and as Walter spoke, the sobbing around the auditorium was profound.

Miller is merciless as he twists the knife into Loman’s last desperate hours. As Biff again disappoints him, the true depths of Willy’s guilt and shame are revealed, whilst Happy (Sam Marks convincing as the shallow even if ultimately loving son, too easily led by his trousers) is happy to desert his desolate father in a restaurant, as he heads off in pursuit of women.

Loman’s descent will be recognised by all and quite possibly be familiar to many and yet along the way he encounters everyday kindnesses too. Linda’s love for her husband breaks our hearts, whilst Charley (a beautifully weighted performance from the lugubrious Joshua Richards) provides one of the most touching definitions of friendship ever penned. In the play’s Requiem, Charley’s eulogy echoes Horatio's "now cracks a noble heart" speech from Hamlet, as the old New Yorker says of Willy: 

”He’s a man way out there in the blue, riding on a smile and a shoeshine. And when they start not smiling back — that’s an earthquake. And then you get yourself a couple of spots on your hat, and you’re finished.”

Nowhere else in the canon has the so-called “American dream” been so concisely revealed as the nightmare that it can so easily become.

Besides the faultless text, it is Doran’s company that mark this production as one of the greats. Sat at his kitchen table, the shoe-shining Sher defines Miller’s anti-hero for a new generation and as his mind unravels, Sher’s Loman is as brilliantly desperate as he is pitiful.

In a pairing that has seen Alex Hassell play Hal to Sher’s Falstaff, so is the younger man now Biff. Magnificent throughout, it is late into act two when Hassell, with minimal dialogue and outstanding acting, portrays a young man watching the rock that he had previously believed his father to be, crumble before his eyes. Watching the equal despair of the humiliated father and his devastated son, both now destroyed, is almost unbearable. 

Stephen Brimson Lewis’ powerfully overbearing set depicts a tenemented Brooklyn, the Lomans’ home, where nothing grows anymore – and as Miller has the play’s action flash between the years, so too does the staging mirror Loman’s muddled mind. Credit also to Tim Mitchell’s lighting and Paul Englishby’s music, both perfectly enhancing time and place.

In 1979 Miller described Warren Mitchell in Mitchel Rudman’s National Theatre production, as “definitive”. I saw the NT show more than once and Greg Doran’s version shares that pantheon. 

A tragedy that is timeless and epic and yet also everyman, Death Of A Salesman plays at Stratford, before an immediate transfer to London. The production is unmissable. Drama does not come better than this.

Plays at Stratford until 2nd May 2015. Then plays at the Noel Coward Theatre from 9th May until 18th July 2015

King Henry IV Part II

Royal Shakespeare Theatre, Stratford upon Avon

*****

Written by William Shakespeare

Directed by Greg Doran

Antony Sher

Greg Doran’s Henry IV Part 2 is a world class interpretation of a play that is at once a historical comment upon England, a bittersweet study on the frailities of age and a beautiful exposition of the human condition. Picking up from Part 1 with Hotspur’s death at Shrewsbury, the play dwells upon the waning of Henry IV’s reign, the revolutions that are continually afoot and the (now separate) paths of young Hal and Falstaff.

In the only obvious nod to the modern era, Doran opens the play with Antony Byrne's Rumour, in jeans, imploring us to open our ears. It is the only overtly stylistic nod to modern times, though such is the wit of Shakespeare's verse that many dramatic creations of our times clearly draw their inspiration from the Bard.

King Henry’s appearances in Part 2 are less frequent, he is an old man now, but Jasper Britton’s interpretation of the King is all the sweeter for being so much more condensed. His “uneasy lies the head that wears the Crown” speech being a beautifully focussed insight into the burdens of statesmanship. Britton is amongst excellent company on stage. Alex Hassell’s Hal is every inch the King to be, well weighted in addressing his father’s demise and steeled with the cold aloofness of absolute power as heartbreakingly he ultimately scorns Falstaff, his former friend. 

It is in his depiction of England and its natives though that Shakespeare gives us an endearing social comment. The elderly Justices Shallow and Silent, exquisitely defined by Oliver Ford Davies and Jim Hooper, seeing out their days in idyllic Gloucestershire, could so easily be the inspiration for television's Last Of The Summer Wine with just a hint of old Mr Grace thrown in for good measure. Ever considered what classical sources may have led to the creation of Albert Square's Angie Watts and Dot Cotton? Well get yourself to Stratford where Paola Dionisotti's marvellous Mistress Quickly presides over her brothel/tavern in a style that as much suggests EastEnders as Eastcheap.

And presiding over this carnival of characters is Antony Sher's Falstaff. The glory of his Part 1 excellence is only polished in this sequel. Sher extracts painful pathos as he acknowledges he is too old to sate the flame of his desire that burns for Nia Gwynne’s young whore Doll Tearsheet. He frequently owns the stage with his oratory, the soliloquy in praise of sherry being one of the evening's many delights. At the play's close Falstaff, full of bombast, is snubbed by the King in front of his old friends the Justices to whom he had promised access to the Court. The pain of this humiliation, so brilliantly penned by Shakespeare, in Sher’s hands is tragi-comedy defined. As he attempts to shrug off his own shrugging off by the King, one can sense more than a hint of Del Boy telling Rodney not to worry, "next year, we'll be millionaires". The relevance of the prose is timeless

Again the RSC surpass themselves. Dominic Dromgoole recently commented that some countries "do Shakespeare" better than us and occasionally he may be right. But this production cannot be bettered. The stagecraft on display, from both cast and creatives is perfection. Rarely is a classic work performed with such wit, freshness and vitality.

Runs until 6th September 2014, then tours.

King Henry IV Part I

Royal Shakespeare Theatre, Stratford upon Avon

****

Written by William Shakespeare

Directed by Greg Doran

Antony Sher and Alex Hassell

It has often been mooted that Henry IV Pt 1 should arguably have been re-named Sir John Falstaff, such is the impact of the legendary bon-viveur upon the history play and Greg Doran’s production at the Royal Shakespeare Theatre only endorses the argument.

Commencing with the spirit of Richard II gazing down from the gods (a robed and long-haired David Tennant lookalike) we find Jasper Britton has assumed the mantle of Bolingbroke, opening the play as the newly crowned king. Britton’s performance is assured and he convincingly presents first, as a father initially struggling with his son’s errant Eastcheap ways and later as a monarch grappling with the destructive forces at work amidst his realm.

Alex Hassell is Hal, giving a performance of the Henry V (to be) that defines the young royal’s energy, vivacity and nobility far better than any recent stage portrayal of the warrior king. The robbery at Gadhill and Hal’s banter with Sir John is royal japery at its finest, yet Hassell also defines both mettle and honour in the play's later scenes, defending and loyally supporting his father. The young actor displays astonishing talent and of his generation he is unquestionably “one to watch”. Matched against him is Trevor White’s Hotspur. Envious of Hal’s preferment and bearing a chip on his shoulder, Hotspur is one of Shakespeare's more unforgiving roles. White’s energetic effort is hampered by an overplayed chip, trying just a little bit “too hard”.

The jewel in this production’s crown however is unquestionably Antony Sher’s Falstaff. A corpulent, drunken profiteer, as likely to be found in the arms of the pox-ridden Mistress Quickly (a wonderfully be-scabbed Paola Dionisotti) as to be gaming with the Prince of Wales. Sher relishes Falstaff’s every moment and that his sozzled patrician Falstaff is so at ease with the Eastcheap cutpurses only adds to the color of his character. With a perpetually unpaid bar bill and the quickest of wits, Sir John precurses the latter day comic creations of Arthur Daley or Norman Stanley Fletcher, each a quintessentially lovable rogue. One of our finest actors, Sher’s “What is honesty?” soliloquy is an outstanding delivery, with so many of his lines being pathos-laden comedy gold. A good comic must master timing as well as voice and physical presence, Sher nails the lot and one is unlikely to see a finer Shakespearean performance this year.

Other notables are Joshua Richards with a wonderfully pagan Owen Glendower and Simon Thorp's Rickman-esque Lord Chief Justice.

The RSC is again at its creative best. Terry King elicits breathtaking fightwork (Sean Chapman’s scottish Douglas menaces with the mace) whilst Tim Mitchell’s lighting and Martin Slavin’s sound design effectively suggest both location and time. A finely produced treat, Greg Doran’s interpretation is thoughtful, perceptive and hilarious.

Plays to 6th September 2014, then tours.

Travelling Light - Review

National Theatre, London

February 19 2012

***

Written by: Nicholas Wright
Directed by Nick Hytner
Music by Grant Olding

In some ways, Travelling Light represents what the National Theatre really can do very well. A stunning set design by Bob Crowley that cleverly evokes an Eastern European shtetl at the beginning of the 20^th century, and a use of technology and staging to tell what could be a very imaginative story.

The play charts the development of the exploitation of the motion picture camera developed by the Lumiere brothers into a vehicle for telling fictional stories that can ultimately be projected to paying audiences. In essence, the birth of what Hollywood was to become.

Nicholas Wright opens his tale in 1936 with Maurice Montgomery ( Paul Jesson ) , a Hollywood producer, looking back to his starting out in motion pictures as a young man in the shtetl, inheriting his father's camera.  The young filmmaker is played by Damian Molony,  whose name before emigrating to the USA had been Motel Mendl

Mendl recognises the potential to use the camera to tell stories through film, and a local wealthy timber merchant Jacob Bindel, (Antony Sher) sees the commercial potential in Mendl making films that will tell exciting and fantastic stories that people will want to pay money to see.

The story’s strength lies in its premise that some of the key aspects of film-making were born even in the infancy of the art. The small world of the shtetl sees the movie-makers encounter budgetary constraints, temperamental artists, a meddling (or even visionary) producer, sexual duplicity and even the casting couch. To that extent the story is potentially clever, and at times probably close to being historically accurate in some of the detail it portrays. The National’s use of projection technology to chart the development of Mend’ls black and white silent movies is pleasing – the musical accompaniment written by the talented Grant Olding provides an authentic shtetl sound. It is clear that with his skiffle contribution to One Man , Two Guvnors, and with his work in this production, that there is a very positive creative relationship between Hytner and Olding.

The delivery of the story is however flawed inasmuch as there is an inconsistent use of accent and dialect. In the shtetl, most of the (generally well acted) characters do not have an Eastern European inflection to their voice  with the exception of Bindel, whose distinctive and somewhat contrived accent has already rather mischievously been described as being based around Borat. In a similar observation, the young  Mendl speaks with with no accent whatsoever in the shtetl, yet adopts a broad American-Yiddish brogue as the old man Montgomery by the time he makes it to Hollywood. This dialectic evolution is left unexplained.

The character of Bindel is also just a little too "one-dimensional". The timber merchant describes his journey from poverty to wealth, but we only encounter him as an established person of substance, and see little of his development.  To have Sher play a character who is often little more than a stereotypical cross between Tevye and Zorba ,but without the emotional arc of either of those two cultural legends, seems to me a rare squandering of one of the great acting talents of his generation. The action of the play hops between Hollywood and the flashback shtetl, and the story moves towards a denouement that whilst aiming to be moving and profound is perhaps a little too contrived.

Overall, one is reminded of Tateh , the penniless Jewish immigrant to the USA in Ahrens and Flaherty's musical Ragtime who goes on to make his fortune in the movie industry. Tateh's story is a modest chapter in a much larger canvas, but nonetheless a journey told perhaps a little more succintly than has been portrayed here.

The recent success of the movie The Artist has seen silent film thrust back into contemporary popularity. With that in mind and given the rather distracting vocal inconsistencies in this production, a possible thought to consider is that if this play had perhaps have been devised as a  mimed performance, without dialogue, but with simply more of Olding's music and appropriately projected dialog cards it could possibly have been a more impressive tribute to the era that it sets out to portray.

In repertory and also on tour until June 2