The Pillowman - Review

Duke of York's Theatre, London

****

Written by Martin McDonagh

Directed by Matthew Dunster

Lily Allen and Steve Pemberton

Martin McDonagh’s absurdist play is an exploration of the freedom of speech and the suppression of dissent. 

In a dystopian world where the writer Katurian (played by Lily Allen) and her brother Michal (Matthew Tennyson) have grown up in an abusive family and where Tupolski (Steve Pemberton) and Ariel (Paul Kaye), the two cops investigating a series of murders that appear to have been committed by the siblings are themselves damaged individuals, little is what it seems.

McDonagh messes with our minds as Katurian’s short stories blur in and out of reality, with much of the play’s narrative, both spoken and occasionally physically performed, proving horrifically graphic. 

Technically, the production’s staging is breathtaking. Allen is responsible for delivering a raft of mind-boggling monologues, proving magnificent in the role. Equally Pemberton, and Kaye in particular, are compelling policemen. Anna Fleischle’s designs hitched to Neil Austin’s lighting work and Dick Straker’s videos ingeniously blur our perceptions, contributing to the evening’s sense of profound disquiet and even moments of awkward humour.

McDonagh’s argument ultimately suggests that it is the authoritarian state that stifles ideas. While there is of course some credence to this, it is also important to note that in 2023 books are being burned and voices are being silenced, not by the authorities, but by the pile-on mobs of social media and self-appointed cultural apparatchiks who are determining what ideas are and are not, acceptable. Thus the question has to be posed: Is The Pillowman, a play first performed some twenty years ago, an already out of date cliché?

Not an easy night out by any means - but a striking and memorable piece of theatre.

Runs until 2nd September

Photo credit Johan Persson

Mother Goose - Review

Theatre Royal, Brighton and Duke of York’s Theatre, London

*****

Written by Jonathan Harvey

Directed by Cal McCrystal

Ian McKellen as Mother Goose

Ponder a while and reflect on the image above. It is a picture of Sir Ian McKellen, one of this country’s finest actors and in this photograph by Manuel Harlan is captured the humour, genius and lifetime of experience that defines him. Now read on…

Mother Goose that has played a week at Brighton’s Theatre Royal before transferring to London’s Duke of York's Theatre and then touring into spring next year, is pantomime at its finest.

In one of those rare theatrical events that sees a Knight become a Dame, Ian McKellen leads the company in a spectacular take on the title role. It’s seventeen years since McKellen last did panto and it’s as if he’s never been away. He holds the role flawlessly in a production that has been built for a long haul on the road and thus denies him both Christmas references and moments of localised fast-moving audience interaction. Nonetheless, his majestic dame captures Goose’s stunning faux-glamour alongside some fabulous moments of self-deprecation and immaculately timed repartee. Heck, McKellen even sings, and for just a brief moment, as he lapses into Tomorrow from Annie that’s prefaced by an autobiographical reference to his 8-year old self seeing panto in Bolton, there is just a hint of poignant pathos as we recognise the man’s remarkable longevity and his place in the pantheon of Britain’s greats. But written by Jonathan Harvey this is panto not pathos - and McKellen’s ability to roll through a script that references Mother Goose’s beaver as well as her (his?) haemorrhoids, hallmarks Harvey's carefully crafted text that will tickle all ages. References to Lord Of The Rings abound, and there’s even a splash of Shakespeare on the closing moments, as McKellen’s Dame treats us to Portia’s “Quality of mercy” speech from The Merchant Of Venice.

McKellen’s supporting cast are outstanding. Sharing the celebrity-billing alongside the venerable Dame is standup comedian John Bishop (mocked throughout by McKellen as not being a ‘real’ actor) as Mother Goose’s husband Vic, making a wonderful foil to McKellen’s high-octane campery. Oscar Conlon-Morrey steps up to the comedy role of the Gooses’ son Jack. Conlon-Morrey is a dab hand at panto, heroically handling Jack’s buffoonery and slapstick.

Oscar Conlon-Morrey, Ian McKellen and John Bishop

The production’s musical references are a delight, with frequent references to classic musical theatre shows - none finer than the Act Two opener of One from A Chorus Line (I can’t explain its relevance to the plot either) with a delivery that is as brilliant as it is hilarious, with Dame Ian providing the number’s visual (if not vocal) climax. It is left to Anna-Jane Casey however, playing the goose of the show Cilla Quack to deliver not only the odd wry menopause gag, but to take the roof off the Theatre Royal, firstly with a brief take on All By Myself, before a simply stunning version of Don’t Rain On My Parade. It is often said that pantomime is, for many children, their first experience of live theatre. In this production they’re also being given a taste of some of Broadway’s finest songs. A nod here to musical director James Keay whose arrangements, delivered by his economically sized three-piece band, are spot on. Lizzi Gee’s choreography is a treat, delivering dance routines (just wait until you see Sir Ian tap!) that has been lavishly designed and immaculately rehearsed.

Anna Jane Casey, John Bishop and Ian McKellen

The show heads into the West End next week and it is a far more traditional pantomime than London’s other highly-priced festive offering. McKellen’s Mother Goose is not about million-dollar costumes shoehorned into a formulaic variety show. Far from it. This is a pantomime created in the mould of hundreds of shows that are playing across the country right now. It just happens to have one of our finest actors ever giving one of his finest performances. What’s more, when the show departs London in February to tour England, Wales and Ireland , all its tickets are affordably priced too.

It is not often that one can say that a pantomime is “coming to a town near you soon”, but this one is. And when it does, don’t miss it.

Touring until 1st April 2023

Photo credit: Manuel Harlan

Touching The Void - Review

Duke of York's Theatre, London


**


Based on the book by Joe Simpson
Adapted by David Greig
Directed by Tom Morris

Josh Williams and Angus Yellowlees

The true story behind Touching The Void and the endeavours and trials that befell mountaineer Joe Simpson and his climbing partner Simon Yates on the Siula Grande mountain in the Peruvian Andes has been recognised in both Simpson’s 1985 bestseller and Film Four’s acclaimed docu-drama released some 18 years later. However, in its translation to the stage, the epic arc of humanity underlying this remarkable tale is matched only by the dramatical ineptitude manifest in its ham-staged adaptation now playing in the West End’s proscenium-arched Duke of York’s Theatre.

Perhaps in a modern amphitheatre-style auditorium and with better managed sound, this show might, just might, make for an evening’s entertainment. But for an audience member seated at the end of a mid stalls row, too much of what occurs on stage is simply invisible - even to a reviewer who is 6 foot tall! Anyone shorter sat in these mid-priced seats (face value £55 - £60) will have paid a lot of money for an equal amount of disappointment.

David Greig has adapted Simpson’s heroic passage to survival by translating the action into the climber’s own hallucination of his wake, at which his sister Sarah becomes a fantastic apparition accompanying him through his ordeal. The could have made for an intriguing conceit, with Fiona Hampton as Sarah putting in a well measured performance as a sibling on the verge of grief. Josh Williams’ Joe however, who for much of the evening is restricted to crawling across the stage as he manages his horrifically shattered leg, loses our sympathy - his acting is just not deep enough to convince us of his profound desperation. Likewise, Angus Yellowlees’ Simon lacks credibility.

There’s some automated steelwork in Ti Green’s set that the two men, carabiner-clipped, clamber over for much of the first half’s climbing action - but the accompanying music suggests that composer Jon Nicholls perhaps saw himself scoring a Hollywood action thriller rather than a taut psychological drama. At times not only were the cast invisible, they were also inaudible too.

If only this play were to have suspended our disbelief as effectively as it sometimes suspends its actors. 

Runs until 29th February 2020

Photo credit: Michael Wharley