Waiting For Godot - Review

Theatre Royal Haymarket, London

****

Written by Samuel Beckett

Directed by James Macdonald

Ben Whishaw, Lucian Msamati, Tom Edden, Jonathan Slinger

With a luxurious cast, Samuel Beckett’s opus drama returns to London’s West End.

Lucian Msamati and Ben Whishaw are Estragon and Vladimir, the hapless duo prescribed to await Godot’s arrival on Rae Smith’s set that is as bleak as the narrative. A barren setting, save for a tree, captures the pair’s desolation in a story that is hard to define. 

Beckett’s tragicomedy plays with aspects of loneliness, co-dependency, base humanity, cruelty and abuse - there is also a theme of faith and divinity that underpins the whole piece. Premiering some 71 years ago, in Vladimir and Estragon we can see some of the comedic duos that were to follow in the 1960s and 70s. Think of Albert and Harold Steptoe, Rigsby and his tenants in Rising Damp, Basil and Sybil Fawlty to name but three examples - all relationships doomed to an eternity of complex mediocrity from which no protagonist can ever escape. But unlike a 30minute sitcom episode, Waiting  For Godot is a challenging 2 1/2 hours (including interval) that at times makes huge demands on its audience to keep up with its dry genius.

Msamati and Whishaw are superb in their interpretations. They are brilliantly assisted by Jonathan Slinger as the cruel yet ultimately vulnerable Pozzo and Tom Edden as his unfortunately named slave, Lucky. Edden’s first-act monologue is a masterclass in spoken and physical drama. On the evening of this review Luca Fone played the (Christ-like?) boy, perpetually sent to herald the next-day’s arrival of Godot.

A rare treat to find this work on a major London stage and for those with an appetite for Absurdist Theatre, the show is unmissable.

Runs until 14th December

Photo credit: Marc Brenner

Boys from the Blackstuff - Review

National Theatre, London

*

Written by Alan Bleasdale

Play written by James Graham

Directed by Kate Wasserberg

Barry Sloane

Recent weeks have seen the stage translations of two television classics from the late 20th century open in London. John Cleese’s adaptation of Fawlty Towers has been a delight - taking his claustrophobic Torquay hotel and literally transporting its set, characters and storylines across both miles and decades to create theatrical magic. James Graham’s attempt at transitioning Alan Bleasdale’s bleakly brilliant Boys from the Blackstuff however marks a departure from Graham’s typically trademark genius and proves a depressing disappointment.

In the 1980’s Bleasdale’s six teleplays, each exquisitely photographed and acted around Liverpool, spoke with wit, tenderness and tragedy as they told of the challenges faced by the city in those times. The desperation and desolation of a group of men who’d previously earned their living laying tarmac (the titular blackstuff) won the nation’s hearts. Back in the day when there were only (just) four UK TV channels, Boys from the Blackstuff, with the late Bernard Hill’s remarkable interpretation of the defiantly damaged Yosser Hughes made for sensational viewing.

Indeed, the 1980s were fertile years in which the performing arts captured Liverpool’s pain with Willy Russell’s musical Blood Brothers emerging to be a timeless gem, still packing out theatres to this day. With hindsight, James Graham should have left the era well alone. Bleasdale’s original, skilfully directed by Philip Saville, took an hour-long episode to graphically flesh out each of the series’ characters. Today’s iteration sees Graham snatch vignettes from each of those original storylines and attempt to mould them into a two-hour blob of drama. The result is shallow, crass and un-engaging, with the tragic pathos of Bleasdale’s original, sacrificed on an altar of pseudo-relevant scenery, projections and a distracting (and on this press-night, technically disastrous) soundscape. 

The play has moments of a fine portrayal of human suffering from Barry Sloane’s Yosser, but otherwise - and this is a disgrace for a show that stems from such an outstanding pedigree - the evening is a bore.

Music from the 1980s is piped into the auditorium before and after the show. The Special’s Ghost Town, playing before curtain-up, could have been foretelling the post-interval gaps that were to emerge in the audience. And indeed when the somewhat depleted throng did return to their seats after half-time, it was Paul Weller coming through the Olivier’s sound system with The Jam’s song That’s Entertainment. If only.

Runs at the National Theatre until 8th June

Then at the Garrick Theatre from 13th June - 3rd August

Photo credit: Andrew AB Photography

Fawlty Towers - The Play - Review

Apollo Theatre, London

*****

Written by John Cleese

Based on the TV series Fawlty Towers written by John Cleese & Connie Booth

Directed by Caroline Jay Ranger

The cast of Fawlty Towers - The Play

Written for television some 50 years ago and almost immediately entering the pantheon of comedy, Fawlty Towers was a work of scriptwriting genius by John Cleese and his (then) wife Connie Booth. 

Cleese himself has now adapted three of the (only 12) original TV episodes into a tightly paced show that runs for two hours including interval. The adaptation itself is a work of art, Cleese fusing those famous plotlines and gags into an ingenious confection designed to appeal to both fans and newcomers alike.

Of course the writing credentials of Fawlty Towers The Play were never in doubt. The challenge was always going to lie in the effectiveness of the on-stage resurrections of the beleaguered hotel’s iconically comic characters.

Anna-Jane Casey and Adam Jackson-Smith

Simply put, director Caroline Jay Ranger’s cast are sensational. Adam Jackson-Smith is the lugubrious hotelier Basil Fawlty, a role that many may have considered unplayable. In an immaculate combination of voice, nuance and sublime physical comedy, Jackson-Smith nails the performance with far greater skill than he manages to fix a moose’s head to a hotel wall. 

Alongside him, Anna-Jane Casey takes on the mantle of Sybil Fawlty, the other half of one of comedy’s most celebrated loveless marriages. Casey’s tone is magnificent and as the evening plays out, her portrayal of a woman who is as equally monstrous as her husband, only becomes more acid. Hemi Yeroham takes up the role of the much put-upon Manuel, the hotel’s Spanish waiter with Victoria Fox playing the maid Polly. Both recreate their characters to a tee.

But aside from those big four rocks of the Fawlty Towers series, what pushes this stage show into the stratosphere of excellence is the inspired casting of the supporting roles. It’s a breath of fresh air in these politically-correct times that Paul Nicholas’s interpretation of The Major, clearly suffering with the onset of dementia, is given such a beautifully weighted and perfectly pitched performance. Equally, Rachel Izen’s hard of hearing and cantankerous Mrs Richards (“What?”) is another comedy gem.

Paul Nicholas

Creative credits are due to Liz Ascroft’s set that cleverly captures the essence of the Torquay original, along with Kate Waters’ fight direction that has the physical slapstick honed to perfection. And Campbell Young Associates’ wig design for Sybil deserves its own Olivier Award just for looking so bloody brilliant!

This critic sat down with scepticism and left the theatre with eyes and cheeks wet from laughter. Quality comedy demands a holy trinity of first-class writing, acting genius and pinpoint timing. Fawlty Towers has all three - it’s the funniest show in town.

Runs until September 28th

Photo credit: Hugo Glendinning