All My Sons - Review

Wyndham's Theatre, London

*****

Written by Arthur Miller

Directed by Ivo Van Hove

Tom Glynn-Carney and Bryan Cranston

Arthur Miller’s All My Sons is given an astonishing and devastating reworking at the Wyndham’s Theatre under Ivo Van Hove’s direction. Written in 1946, with the USA still under the shadow of the Second World War, the play is a forensic critique of greed and amorality in the American war machine. More than that however, it is an equally brilliant analysis of grief, denial, love and betrayal with Miller using but the slightest of phrases and descriptions to paint a richly detailed canvas of one tiny slice of the country’s Midwest.

In a story that was inspired by real events, Van Hove casts Bryan Cranston as Joe Keller whose engineering company supplied a batch of fatally flawed engines to the US Air Force that resulted in the deaths of 21 pilots. Cranston is colossal in his portrayal of a man prepared to sacrifice friendship and, unwittingly, family on the altar of the American Dream in his corrupt pursuit of personal fortune. His Keller is credible and deeply, darkly human, holding a mirror to us all.

Miller’s genius extends beyond his flawed protagonist. The story’s supporting characters offer a complex web of relationships and interactions, delivered in this production by a stunning company. Marianne Jean-Baptiste is Keller’s knowing yet grieving wife Kate, who breaks our hearts as she faces the challenges that Miller throws at her. Jean-Baptiste’s performance matches Cranston for its nuanced sensitivity and downright brilliance. Paapa Essiedu as Keller’s son Chris together with Tom Glynn-Carney and Hayley Squires as troubled siblings George and Ann pick up the lion’s share of the younger generation’s roles, with all three actors delivering excellence as the hellish tale unfolds.

Van Hove’s direction is precise. The play’s action unfolds in the Kellers’ yard where a tree has portentously fallen over in a storm the night before. As a chainsaw is taken to the fallen timber and the sawdust flies, the smell of the petrol engine’s exhaust filling the auditorium adds a curious and unexpected sensation of authenticity to the on-stage action.

Written in three acts, Van Hove chooses to dispense with any interval break at all, leading to a 2hr10 marathon of intense drama – that actually works incredibly well. The perfectly aligned combination of Miller’s prose delivered by a gifted company leads to an evening of tragically blistering perfection.

Runs until 7th March 2026

Photo credit: Jan Versweyveld

The Effect - Review

National Theatre, London

*****

Written by Lucy Prebble

Directed by Jamie Lloyd

Paapa Essiedu and Taylor Russell

After a gap of some 11 years, the National Theatre’s revival of Lucy Prebble’s The Effect is as timely as it is brilliant.

In this ingenious four-hander Paapa Essiedu and Taylor Russell are Tristan and Connie, two volunteers trialling an anti-depressant over a 4 week period in a secure residential facility. Michele Austin and Kobna Holdbrook-Smith are the clinicians Lorna and Toby, overseeing the trial, with Lorna being responsible for the trial’s execution, while Toby is from the drug company who have developed the medicine that’s being tested. In a tight single act that lasts 100 minutes, Prebble immerses us into the intensity of an improbable love that evolves between Tristan and Connie, while also exploring the doctors’ dynamics too.

Director Jamie Lloyd delivers electrifying theatre. Essiedu kicks off as the opportunistic chancer - eager to make a sexual conquest out of Connie, his swagger and machismo almost predatory in the play’s opening scenes. Russell’s Connie is an equally stunning performance as she explores her own responses to Tristan - and as the play unfolds, with one of them on the trialled medication and one on a placebo, the drama deepens to a level of human pain and passion that is at times unbearable to watch such is it’s intensity. In their own predatory sub-plot, the two medics are equally compelling.

As ever, designer Soutra Gilmour provides the staging for Lloyd’s vision, in this instance boldly transforming the Lyttleton’s proscenium stage into a traverse space with racks of seating upstage with the action playing out centrally. The colour scheme is a harsh black and white that Jon Clark’s brutal lighting plots enhance magnificently.

There’s so much to chew over in The Effect - not just the grief and humanity that is played out on stage, but also a wider contemplation of the manipulative powers of Big Pharma. In this post-pandemic world that Prebble could barely have contemplated when she penned her script, the world’s physiological reactions to both Covid and its panoply of speedily rolled-out vaccines, offer up some unexpectedly troubling analogies too.

The Effect is modern writing at its best and again, spectacularly, our National Theatre at its very best too. In Jamie Lloyd’s hands this makes for a night of outstanding, unforgettable theatre.

Runs until 7th October

Photo credit: Marc Brenner

Hamlet - Review

Hackney Empire, London

****

Written by William Shakespeare

Directed by Simon Godwin

Paapa Essiedu

Life is imitating art with the RSC having sent their company of travelling players on the road to tour Hamlet around England, a journey that ends at north London’s Hackney Empire where the show runs through March. Thereafter, this bold and innovative production crosses the Atlantic to be staged in the Kennedy Centre in Washington DC.

Godwin ensures that the play is set up clearly, opening unusually at the university in Mecklenburg to witness Hamlet’s graduation before shifting location to reconnect with the traditional narrative – albeit African styled. Not only does this offer a swift start to the tale, but it also allows for that continent’s  distinctive themes to take centre stage. A cacophony of colour, costume and music fills the stage allowing Paul Wills’ design together with Sola Akingbola's rhythmic pulsating score to define this extraordinary take on arguably one of the canon’s most famous plays.

While occasionally finding comedy where it may not have been needed Paapa Essiedu delivers a modern, raw take on the title role, catching Hamlet’s innocence while also making fine work of the soliloquies. All too often, Hamlet can be played by slightly older actors – it is refreshing here to see a truly young actor playing the role as a passionate, over excitable and at times confused young man.

Mimi Ndiweni's Ophelia initial calmness proves deceptive, as her descent into despair during Act Four leaves the Empire’s audience stunned.  Memorable elsewhere, Joseph Mydell as Polonius delivers a wonderful performance as the king's loyal advisor, causing much hilarity with his proverbial pomposity. 

The culture that goes with African heritage is not only vibrant, but is rhythmic, raw and honest and this intriguing context of the tale take allows the RSC a prism to deliver a Hamlet that is a bold reflection of the modern world.

The onstage percussion from Akingbola alongside Sidiki Dembele defines the continent, while the collaboration between between Godwin and Wills presents Hamlet as a painter. With spray cans at hand both to liberally graffiti family portraits as well as to literally taint the fair Ophelia, the visuals serve well as a guide through the text.

In a bold and daring interpretation, Essiedu's Hamlet is likely to be remembered and talked about in years to come. To more seasoned Shakespearian audiences the production is occasionally frustrating, with moments of Shakespeare’s finely crafted subtlety being flagged and highlighted. Godwin’s Hamlet however is neither performed by, nor targeted at, society’s elite. It’s a beautifully accessible performance of a perfect play.

Reviewed by Josh Adams

Runs until 31st March, then at the Kennedy Centre, Washington DC, 2nd - 6th May

Photo credit: Manuel Harlan © RSC

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

Hamlet - Review

Royal Shakespeare Theatre, Stratford Upon Avon


****


Written by William Shakespeare
Directed by Simon Godwin

Paapa Essiedu

As the lights come up on Simon Godwin’s Hamlet with Marcellus and Barnardo keeping watch on Elsinore’s perimeter, there are crickets chirping. For whilst Denmark has always been fixed in a traditionally chilly Scandinavia this show shifts it to Africa, a continent infamous for corrupt and despotic regimes. Claudius’ murderous reign is well suited to the territory – and as the production plays out against Paul Wills’ stunning drapes and beautifully sourced Africana, one senses that where some 22 years ago Disney’s Lion King famously and ingeniously shifted this timeless plot to the Dark Continent, so, in Shakespeare’s 400th anniversary, does the RSC proudly endorse the location. 

The little known Paapa Essiedu plays the Prince, rising magnificently to the role. Essiedu’s take on the prose is beautifully nuanced, handling some of the most famous lines in the canon with a youthful confidence that is revelatory. Rarely have I been so moved by the “nunnery” exchange with Ophelia, whilst his “Alas, poor Yorick” flowed with the natural rhythm that Shakespeare imbued into the iambic, long before the text became a cliché.

Godwin has his actor splattered with paint throughout most of the first half’s “madness” and the exaggerated visual depiction of Hamlet’s antic disposition works well. After the interval as Essiedu, bare-chested, confronts Gertrude in the closet, there were gasps from the audience at the actor’s impressive physique.

For the most part Essiedu is blessed with playing off an excellent company. Clarence Smith’s Claudius skilfully avoids melodrama as the extent of his fratricidal wickedness is gradually revealed, whilst Tanya Moodie’s Gertrude (glamorous and in sunglasses at Ophelia’s funeral) offers up the classiest African Queen since John Huston’s Oscar winner. 

Natalie Simpson’s Ophelia breaks our hearts with her mental decline, alongside Ewart James Walters who in the traditional double-casting of Ghost/Gravedigger, is superb. To many there will be more than a hint of Mufasa in his murdered King, whilst Walters’ patois-inflected Gravedigger is comedy gold.

Cyril Nri captures Polonius' pontificating pomposity perfectly as Marcus Griffiths’ Laertes, whose return to Elsinore is via a helicopter-dropped abseil captures the righteous indignation of vengeful son and brother. The play's final fight, between Laertes and Hamlet, is staged in this production with a breathtaking use of staves in place of swords. A mention here for Kevin McCurdy’s perfectly choreographed fight direction and even more so for Mbulelo Ndabeni’s movement work, across the company, that so adds to the African setting sealed by Sola Akingbola’s deliciously drum-heavy musical accompaniment.   

This being Africa, the cast is black with the exception of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern. These most celebrated of Shakespeare’s inept and inadequates (James Cooney and Bethan Cullinane respectively) are here played as white English. The message is clear – that England’s imperial bunglings into Africa have been naïve and crass. The argument may not be to everyone’s taste, but it sweetly suits the tone of this production. 

Unencumbered with the overblown expectations of a stunt-cast star in the title role, this is the best Hamlet in years having been given such a finely worked interpretation. This is an inspired and memorable production that plays in repertory until the summer. Broadcast to cinemas in June – don’t miss it!

Runs until 13th August - And in cinemas from 8th June