Summerfolk - Review

National Theatre, London

***

Written by Maxim Gorky

in a new version by Nina Raine and Moses Raine

Directed by Robert Hastie

Justine Mitchell and Peter Forbes

Summerfolk at the National is one of those rare examples of art mocking life. Set in pre-Revolutionary Russia at the turn of the 20th century, Gorky’s tale was always one of entitled middle-classes squabbling amidst their privileges. The Summerfolk of the title are the prosperous Muscovites who decamp to their country daschas for the summer, folk who care little for their temporary rural surrounds, and looked on with envy and resentment by the local impoverished peasants.

Swap 1905 daschas for 21st century second homes or AirBnBs in Provence or Cornwall or Southwold - places where the local communities have been societally impoverished - and the echoes couldn’t ring louder. That such privileged folk are likely to include those that can afford London’s theatre ticket prices and the evening’s irony becomes even more acute.

Robert Hastie directs a massive company who for the most part are an entertaining troupe. Standout performances come from Peter Forbes as Semyon Dvoyetochiye, a wealthy old uncle to the story’s sprawling family and also from Justine Mitchell as Maria Lvovna, an elderly doctor who finds herself the complicated object of desire in the eyes of the much younger Vlass (Alex Lawther).

The evening’s acting may well be classy but the script is uninspiring.  Not speaking Russian, this reviewer is unable to comment on the accuracy or otherwise of the adaptation by Nina Raine and Moses Raine, suffice to say that the political pulse of the drama unfolds with very little sophistication. The politics of the piece is hammered out with such crass simplicity that it sounds more akin to a party political broadcast, rather than a sophisticated work of modern literature.  

A fortune, subsidised by Arts Council England, has been invested (squandered?) in Peter McKintosh’s impressive set that recreates the dascha’s Russian forest setting, complete with rivers and ponds. Given the shallow depth of the play's argument, it’s hard to consider that this has been money well spent. 

Summerfolk offers that rare opportunity of watching an audience seeing themselves dissected on stage.  Revolutionary theatre? Only time will tell… 

Runs until 29th April

Photo credit: Johan Persson

Assassins - Review

Festival Theatre, Chichester

*****

Music & lyrics by Stephen Sondheim

Book by John Weidman

Directed by Polly Findlay

Danny Mac

Only on for a ridiculously short two-week run, Stephen Sondheim’s Assassins is a beautifully engineered weapon, which in the hands of Polly Findlay and her company of marksmen delivers a rifle-shot straight to the heart of American culture and politics. An all-American treat, Assassins is as scathing of American hypocrisies as Sondheim’s Sweeney Todd is of the corrupt British elite.

A wickedly satirical look at the individuals who, throughout history, have taken a (sometimes fatal) shot at their President, Sondheim’s depiction of these assassins / would-be assassins is as brutal as their own intentions, with all featuring on the spectrum of social inadequacy. The show’s genius however lies in the bravado of Sondheim’s lyrical wit that,  applied to John Weidman’s book and under Findlay’s direction of a stellar cast, delivers some of the finest performances in musical theatre to be found this year.

The audience in Chichester’s Festival Theatre are pumped before the show even begins. Lizzie Clachan’s designs see the Festival’s thrust stage transformed into a TV studio cum Oval Office, with patriotic American drapes festooning the auditorium. Journey’s Don’t Stop Believin’ plays as the popcorn-bearing (yes, Chichester are selling popcorn for this one) throng take their seats. And in what must surely be another first for this august theatrical venue, mise-en-scene cheerleaders whip the crowd into frenzied Mexican waves anticipating kick-off.  Big screens countdown the seconds before Peter Forbes as The Proprietor takes the stage, getting proceedings underway with Everybody’s Got The Right. 

Forbes is magnificently Trumpian in his style – and while his take on the role is a masterful trompe l’oeil, it shows a partisan interpretation from Findlay that skews Sondheim’s otherwise unbiased critique of the American machine. Trump may well be a great visual in terms of razzamatazz and bombast – but Findlay’s omission of any suggested reference to the current senile and absent-minded White House incumbent, that may have offered some balance, belies her personal politics.

A scene from Assassins

Danny Mac heads the list of the show’s gunmen and women, playing Abraham Lincoln’s killer John Wilkes Booth. Mac’s take on the role is assured and defined, taking Sondheim’s wry interpretation of his character and giving it a fabulously nuanced interpretation. Booth’s interaction with Lee Harvey Oswald (Samuel Thomas) in the Texas School Book Depository, telling the nervous, hesitant and self-doubting Oswald that by shooting JFK his place in history will be assured is a dramatic masterpiece. The exchanges between these two in the number November 22nd 1963 demands flawless performance skills and with fine ensemble work in support, the song lands with pinpoint accuracy.

Carly Mercedes Dyer again shows her excellence as Lynette “Squeaky” Fromme an acolyte of Charles Manson with a plan to shoot Gerald Ford. Everything that Dyer does is outstanding and it can only be a matter of time before she is cast to headline a major musical. Nick Holder chills as Samuel Byck, the wannabe loser who believes his problems will be solved by assassinating Richard Nixon. Byck is offered no solo songs, just monologues, with Holder nailing the complex role. Jack Shalloo is equally strong as John Hinckley, the Jodie Foster-obsessed loser, out to shoot Ronald Reagan.

Sondheim’s score is another beauty. Jo Cichonska conducts her band, all finely decked out in Americana and seated in a circular pit that lines the front of the stage, with a stylish aplomb. Their take on these inspired melodies is unlikely to be bettered.

This glorious production merits a transfer to a London stage. Whether there is a mainstream British appetite for such a deeply cynical view of the USA is, of course, a different matter.

Until then, head to Chichester – for outstanding musical theatre, Assassins is unmissable.

Runs until 24th June

Photo credit: Johan Persson

Follies - Review

National Theatre, London



*****


Music and lyrics by Stephen Sondheim
Book by James Goldman
Directed by Dominic Cooke

Follies

Eighteen months on and with a couple of well placed casting changes Stephen Sondheim’s Follies returns to the National Theatre with the excellence of this devastating musical a breath of fresh air amidst a slew of disappointing recent openings in the capital. What sets Follies apart from so many other current shows is the meticulous detail that Sondheim weaves into his lyrics and melodies. There is an almost Shakespearean genius to the man, such is his ability to pare the essence of love, lovelessness and the human condition down to the barest, bleakest of bones.

Of Follies’ two leading ladies Janie Dee reprises Phyllis, as Joanna Riding takes over as Sally for this revival. Dee has had time to both sharpen Phyllis’ talons and harden her carapace, her every nuance carefully honed by Cooke’s perceptive direction. Dee’s delivery of Sondheim’s words wield a merciless scalpel into the failures of husband Ben. Phyllis’ big solo Could I Leave You? Proving almost bloody in its brutal dissection of her marriage. Dee savours the wit that Sondheim has bestowed upon her character. Acting through song does not get better than this.

Alexander Hanson, Janie Dee and Christine Tucker

Follies was already a five star show back in 2017. With Riding onboard however and with the elegant fragility that she brings to Sally, a level of credible characterisation that was missing on this production’s first outing, the whole piece is lifted to a higher plane. Sally is one of the toughest gigs in the canon, a faded beauty decayed into a desperate housewife, glamorously bewigged and yet ultimately a woman who on the inside, is crumbing as much as the derelict theatre around her. Serving up pathos without a hint of maudlin sentimentality Riding's heartbreaking rendition of In Buddy’s Eyes is a lament to a love that has long since dwindled - while the mental devastation of Losing My Mind scorches in its revelation of her pain. And as she rips the wig from her head during that song’s closing bars, we gasp at the brute ugliness of her depression.

Ian McIntosh, Joanna Riding and Gemma Sutton

Peter Forbes’ Buddy Plummer has grown too. There is a sleazy mania to his performance that is as abhorrent as it is compelling, especially in his Willy Loman-esque take on The Right Girl.  Alexander Hanson’s Ben offers up a brief glance into the rise and, more pronouncedly, the fall of an oleaginous statesman. Hanson performs well, but there is a tad more bedding into the role that is needed to fully convince.

The show’s supporting roles are all individual treats. Tracie Bennett, ‘still here’ from 2017 as Carlotta, remains perhaps the most diminutive of powerhouse voices to be found in the West End. Oozing classy, sassy cynicism Bennett comes close to stopping the show. She is matched though by her colleagues. Claire Moore is every inch, the most believable Broadway Baby; Felicity Lott and Alison Langer enchant with One More Kiss; Dawn Hope leads the most phenomenal tap line (and credit here to Bill Deamer’s immaculately conceived and drilled choreography throughout) in Who’s That Woman - and a further nod to Bennett who, in a display of sheer bloody stamina segues seamlessly from that number into the demands of I’m Still Here. 

Dawn Hope leads the line

The ghost quartet of the leading roles are marvellous with the ever-excellent Gemma Sutton, together with Christine Tucker, Ian McIntosh and Harry Hepple all offering the necessary passion, scorn and incredulity to make their ghost roles take flight.

It is not just Follies’ writing, but also the National’s lavish production values that define this show as a gem. Vicki Mortimer’s designs deftly blend the decay of the Weismann Theatre into the glamour of the ghosted numbers, with the subtle magnificence of the Olivier’s drum revolve taking the show through both the battered Broadway building as well as the decades, almost imperceptibly. Nigel Lilley's 20-piece orchestra is a soaring delight throughout.

A musical can be judged on narrative, music, song and dance, with Follies scoring top marks across the board. This revival offers an unmissable glimpse into the heaven and hell of humanity.

Runs until 11th May

Photo credit: Johan Persson

Follies - Review

National Theatre, London

*****

Music and lyrics by Stephen Sondheim

Book by James Goldman

Directed by Dominic Cooke

It’s been a while since the National Theatre last revived a great song and dance extravaganza and a Sondheim one at that. But with Dominic Cooke’s production of Follies the NT’s reputation as one of the nation’s finest creators of musical theatre is restored.

Goldman’s book and Sondheims’s songs build a boulevard of broken dreams and flawed humanity that is as harrowing as it is magnificent. The show’s premise is simple: amidst the rubble of Dimitri Weismann’s once grand Broadway stage, the ageing impresario has invited back the stars of his Follies show from some 30 years ago, for one last hurrah before the building is demolished. As the evening unwinds and the champagne flows old loves, desires and the most excruciating of betrayals are re-kindled and confronted.

The show is first and foremost an ensemble piece - there are at least four stories being told here - but it’s the galaxy of stars that Cooke has assembled, that make this Follies such finely crafted theatre. Sally and husband Buddy (Imelda Staunton and Peter Forbes) re-connect with Phyllis and Ben (Janie Dee and Philip Quast) re-igniting friendships and rivalries that have lain dormant for decades. Storytellers however don’t come any finer than Sondheim and Goldman, with the narrative playing out through an exquisitely mirrored time bend that sees the young, pre-married quartet of lovers simultaneously portrayed by a younger foursome of actors. The National have not only skimmed the cream of British musical theatre in casting the 4 senior roles, their ghostly younger personae are also drawn from the nation’s finest, with Alex Young, Zizi Strallen, Fred Haig and Adam Rhys-Charles weaving the story in and out of the years.

Life has dealt both Sally and Phyllis more misery than they may have deserved, but it is the two women’s responses to their empty marriages and duplicitous husbands that drives the bittersweet essence of this show. Staunton’s Sally is literally crumpled as Buddy’s work flies him around the country in perpetual infidelity. Dee’s Phyllis however is a far more sassy character who’s grown an emotional carapace over the years, enabling her to tolerate Ben’s eminent statesman, yet continually philandering, lifestyle - a man who craves money and recognition above all else and with a vacuum for a soul.

Both marriages seethe with frustration and resentment and yet the show’s dissection of the most complex of loves reveals, in its finale, the couples’ ultimate co-dependency. Rarely is a musical so brutally perceptive and so beautifully performed.

The production’s songs are famous and in this outing, flawlessly sung. Tracie Bennett’s Carlotta delivers an I’m Still Here that comes close to stopping the show. Likewise Di Botcher’s Broadway Baby brilliantly captures a song that defines showbusiness. Stunning too is the soprano duet of One More Kiss, hauntingly handled by Dame Josephine Barstow and Alison Langer.

The four leads have the lion’s share of the numbers. Quast is immaculate throughout, singing a powerful take on The Road You Didn't Take. Could I Leave You from Dee defines her mastery of Sondheim’s inflicted irony, while Forbes’ Buddy’s Blues is a jazz-hands analysis of a man in a tailspin. Staunton is tasked with arguably the show’s biggest challenge and one of the finest 11 o’clock numbers ever in Losing My Mind. Rising to the challenge, she makes the song soar in a tragically understated display of pitch perfect poignancy.

Staunton, Dee and Quast have all amassed a fine pedigree of musical theatre work at the National - and for some of us in the audience, there is an added piquancy of seeing Staunton’s magnificent Sally today, yet also recalling her on the same stage as a Hot Box Girl in Richard Eyre’s 1982 production of Guys and Dolls, a show that boldly launched the National as a musical production house of the finest calibre.

That calibre permeates the show. Bill Deamer’s choreography delivers fabulous footwork from across the wide range of ages (and disciplines) of his gifted company. Upstage, Nigel Lilley deftly directs his 21 piece orchestra to deliciously deliver Sondheim’s classic melodies.

Vicki Mortimer’s designs effectively create the crumbling Weismann theatre, making ample use (overuse?) use of the Olivier’s massive revolve. The show's costumes are a similar treat, well cut to the eras in question and enhanced with some outstanding millinery from Sean Barrett.

Like Weismann’s eponymous show, it’s taken 30 years for London to witness the return of a full scale Follies. The National have a fine history of releasing cast recordings of their major musical productions - let's hope that this show too is recorded for posterity. Follies is as beautiful as it is eviscerating - a masterclass in musical theatre.

Booking until 3rd January 2018. Follies will also screen via NT Live at cinemas nationwide on 16th November 2017

Photo credit: Johan Persson