The Motive And The Cue - Review

Noel Coward Theatre, London

*****

Written by Jack Thorne

Directed by Sam Mendes

Mark Gatiss and Johnny Flynn

The National Theatre production has just decamped from the South Bank to the West End and on seeing this play for the third time, like a fine wine it has only improved with the passing of time.

Jack Thorne’s writing is beyond flawless. The perceptive sensitivity with which he pinpoints the passionate, complex relationship between Sir John Gielgud and his direction of Richard Burton in Broadway’s 1964 Hamlet is modern writing at its finest. A carefully curated confection of nuance, rage and pathos sees these two giants subject Shakespeare’s finest play to moments of the most intelligent analysis, with just a twist of heartbreaking humanity too.

Thorne’s words are brought to life by Mark Gatiss as Gielgud and Johnny Flynn as Burton, the same actors who created the roles. They were brilliant when the show opened 8 months ago and are even better now, the chemistry between the two men proving electric. Tuppence Middleton as Burton’s wife Elizabeth Taylor has equally grown into her pivotal role.

Es Devlin’s intriguing set design has transferred well from the Lyttleton - however its automation at the Noel Coward is a tad noisy, that at times is a small distraction.

The Motive And The Cue remains essential drama, exquisitely performed. Unmissable.

Click here to read my May 2023 review of the show's opening at the National Theatre

Runs until 23rd March 2024

Photo credit: Mark Douet

The Motive and the Cue - Review

National Theatre, London

*****

Written by Jack Thorne

Directed by Sam Mendes

Mark Gatiss and Johnny Flynn

Jack Thorne’s new play is one of those rare events, fusing the strongest of stories with an exquisite script, delivered by a riveting troupe of actors. The Motive and the Cue takes an ingenious delve into the rehearsals that underscored Richard Burton’s 1964 Hamlet on Broadway, a production that was directed by Sir John Gielgud.

Burton was at the peak of his hell-raising career, while Sir John, arguably the finest Shakespearean performer of his generation was already past his zenith. Johnny Flynn and Mark Gatiss play Burton and Gielgud respectively and their take on both of these giants is nothing short of remarkable. Vocally and physically the actors capture the instantly recognisable characteristics of both men: Gatiss bringing a balding mellifluous wisdom to the theatrical knight, while Flynn wields a louche, perfectly pitched swagger that, with just a hint of Welsh tonality, nails Burton’s distinctive presence.

Johnny Flynn

Thorne’s genius is in crafting the theatrical history of what was to become Broadway’s longest-running Hamlet ever, into a standalone dramatic gem. Tuppence Middleton plays Elizabeth Taylor - 1964 saw the Burton / Taylor marriage at its most passionate, remember that their legendary Cleopatra movie had only opened the year before  - and her take on the actress, describing Burton as “the finest actor she ever went to bed with”, is inspired. Middleton's Taylor understands the Welshman’s complex roots, his impoverished childhood, nurturing and nourishing his talent. In her final scene, clad literally in fur coat and no knickers, Middleton defines the smouldering, beautiful complexity of one of the twentieth century’s most compelling actresses.

With an acute perception Thorne brings to the fore both Burton's and Gielgud's troubled pasts. Gielgud contemplating the waning of his career at the end of act one, in which having coaxed the recalcitrant Burton in Hamlet’s “Speak the speech I pray you” speech to the Players, then, solo, and as a monologue, recites the speech himself, creating a moment that evolves into one of the most heart-rending and tender scenes penned in recent years. Gatiss defines Gielgud’s melancholy with a profound and measured depth, his gauche second-act encounter with a rent boy proving equally tender.

Mark Gatiss

Flynn too offers a glimpse into the alcohol-fuelled complexities that contributed to Burton’s gargantuan stage presence. Thorne’s script and Sam Mendes’ assured direction offer up a fascinating glimpse of both men’s vulnerabilities.

There’s excellence throughout the cast, with Janie Dee as Eileen Herlie (the production’s Gertrude) and Allan Corduner as Hume Cronyn (Polonius) both in sparkling form. Rarely has Hamlet’s closet scene been played with such credible hilarity. Es Devlin works her usual magic in the play’s scenic design, with scenes ingeniously changing behind the opening and closing aperture of the Lyttleton’s curtain. Credit too to Charmian Hoare, the production's dialect coach, for capturing such aural perfection from the leading performers.

The Motive and the Cue is new writing at its finest, built upon the most fascinating of stories. It is an unmissable night of theatre.

Runs until 15th July

Photo credit: Mark Douet

The Lehman Trilogy - Review

Gillian Lynne Theatre, London

**

Written by Stefano Massini

Adapted by Ben Power

Directed by Sam Mendes

l-r Hadley Fraser, Nigel Lindsay, Michael Balogun

As a tour-de-force of theatrical skill, the National Theatre's The Lehman Trilogy, now revived at Covent Garden's Gillian Lynne Theatre has to remain one of London's highlights. The 3hr 20min opus, reflecting the transition of the american dream into a nightmare is a sublime presentation of acting skill and technical genius. Stepping into the roles of the three Lehman brothers are Nigel Lindsay as Henry, Hadley Fraser as Mayer and Michael Balogun as Emanuel.

And of course what makes this production quite such a Herculean effort for its actors is that not only are they playing the three immigrant brothers, setting up in Montgomery Alabama in the 1840s, but they are playing every other supporting role too.

Notwithstanding the actors’ excellence, matched by Es Devlin’s ingenious stage designs that have translated well to the Gillian Lynne Theatre together with Luke Halls' mesmerising video projections, the play is profoundly flawed both in its literary construct and even more so, in this particular iteration.

The Lehman Trilogy opens with scenery being constructed out of dozens of cardboard 'Bankers Boxes', items that are synonymous with the collapse of the Lehman Brothers merchant bank in the 2008 financial crisis, when news broadcasts streamed images of hundreds of the bank's employees pouring out of its offices in Canary Wharf and Wall Street carrying their personal belongings in those boxes, images that came to define the impact of the 2008 meltdown on the world's financial centres. Equally, the play’s opening presents us with the three leads, clearly dressed as observant patrician Jews, one by one getting off the boat and heading for Alabama. The three never leave the stage throughout, nor change their costumes as the years roll by. Likewise, the cardboard boxes are also on stage from start to finish.

The message is clear, an insidious antisemitic conflation permeating the entire play, that visually links Jews with sharp financial practice and corporate collapse. That this trope of an association is even then factually inaccurate, given that the Lehman brothers’ descendants lost their last familial connection with the bank in 1969 and therefore had no connection whatsoever with the Lehman corporation at the time of its collapse, is treated by Stefano Massini as little more than an inconvenient truth.

Where this production compounds racial insensitivity even further is in the casting of Michael Balogun as Emanuel Lehman. Alabama in 1844 was a slave state in the heart of America’s south. A place where, especially in the play's first act, Balogun plays a person of self-made privilege. This of course was an opportunity not afforded to Alabama’s black population at the time and in his casting, the production’s creatives and producers have shown scant acknowledgment of Alabama’s desperately troubling history of racial oppression.

The Lehman Trilogy’s 21st century stagecraft may well be state of the art and its performances, arguably, the best in town. Its ethics however, are mired in the Dark Ages.

Runs until 20th May 

Photo credit: Mark Douet

Spectre In Concert - Review

Royal Albert Hall, London

*****

Composed by Thomas Newman

Conducted by Anthony Gabriele

Directed by Sam Mendes

At the Royal Albert Hall and conducted by the gifted Anthony Gabriele, the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra performed the world premiere of Thomas Newman’s 2015 score for the James Bond film Spectre, played live and synchronised to a screening of the movie.

Composed by Newman alongside filming, the score is both inspired by and honours many of the film’s locations. Memorably, the opening sequence set in full swing at a Day Of The Dead festival alongside local bands in Zócalo Square in central Mexico City, gives the orchestra and in particular the percussion section, full opportunity to embrace the vibe of the occasion.

The titles play to Sam Smith's ballad The Writing's On The Wall, with its dramatic strings content deliciously echoing Monty Norman.  For lovers of the famous franchise, Newman’s work incorporates those familiar, almost expected Bond-sounds and the orchestra deliver magnificently. The powerful accompaniment of the musicians provides added excitement, a supercharged experience in the form of waves of pleasure, aesthetic chills almost, from the musical vibrations generated in the acoustically perfect auditorium. Under Maestro Gabriele’s seasoned baton, the orchestra add another nuanced layer to the viewing experience.

The afternoon closed with the familiar Jazzy big band sound of Norman’s original "James Bond Theme".  One could feel the audience relax into their seats, succumbing to that timeless leitmotif, the applause and standing ovation only defining their appreciation and fondness for this classic music, wonderfully and flawlessly performed.

Reviewed by Lucy Bex

The Lehman Trilogy - Review

Piccadilly Theatre, London


****


Written by Stefano Massini
Adapted by Ben Power
Directed by Sam Mendes

Simon Russell Beale, Ben Miles, Adam Godley

Amidst the financial crash of 2007/08, one of the most memorable images was that of the summarily fired employees of Lehman Brothers investment bank streaming out of their offices in New York and London’s Canary Wharf, their personal possessions unceremoniously borne in those ubiquitous cardboard Bankers Boxes.

Those branded boxes form a scenic mainstay throughout Stefano Massini’s The Lehman Trilogy and in this opus of a play, that spans from the middle of the 19th century through to the early years of the 21st, the writer’s suggestions are clear. Not only were the seeds of the bank’s downfall planted at its very inception, but also that much of the responsibility for this most recent of financial calamities, lies at the feet of the three Lehman brothers who had arrived on the USA’s eastern seaboard as penniless Jewish immigrants some 160 years before.

This is an unpleasant even if unsurprising conflation, for the last surviving member of the Lehman dynasty to have actually served on the bank’s board was Bobby Lehman, a grandson of the founders and who himself had died in 1969, some 40 years prior to the bank’s collapse and hence well distanced from the decisions that led to its demise. This lapse of time however has not troubled Massini. Much as was sung in Monty Python’s Spamalot: “You won’t succeed on Broadway if you dont have any Jews”, so Massini switches Broadway for Wall Street and, like an East End mural, subtly fuels a troubling trope. 

The stagecraft on display in this 3.5 hours epic is breathtaking. Assuming all roles, genders, and ages, Simon Russell Beale, Adam Godley and Ben Miles are a tour de force of a trio. With accents that are never too laboured and Sam Mendes having focused on the tiniest of nuances in each man’s work, their performances have to be amongst the finest in town. Es Devlin’s staging is ingeniously and suggestively slick - a simple minimally furnished revolve (complete with said boxes) enveloped by Luke Halls’ wraparound video screen - but it is the three actors who convincingly convey time, place and characters as they drive the narrative from the brothers’ humble beginning as Alabama cotton traders through to their dominance of New York’s financial district.

Massini keeps the three brothers clad in European/Victorian tailcoats throughout, reflecting the costume and time of their arrival on the eastern seaboard. But while this simplicity of clothing places a dramatic requirement upon the three men to enact their respective characters through their performances - a challenge that they not only rise to, but emphatically smash - its continual presence throughout the piece only heightens the play’s subliminally uncomfortable associations. 

Taking a step back from the production’s breath-taking technical brilliance - opening now in the West End having only just returned from an acclaimed, brief, New York transfer - the quality of the writing does not match the standards of Mendes’ cast and crew. While the story revolves around (and not entirely incorrectly) the brute avarice of capitalism with the horrors of the 1929 Wall Street crash featuring heavily in the second act, the argument is one-sided and there is little if any respect paid to the positive aspects of capital markets.

For sure the markets are imperfect, often profoundly so, but it was and remains risked capital that often created national as well as private wealth and much mass employment too. But for Massini it seems that these are inconvenient truths. Similarly, the story’s vast timeline is managed well until the third act’s endgame, when the four decades following Bobby Lehman’s demise are telescoped into a barely fleshed-out finale.

Notwithstanding its flawed message, in these times of unparalleled political polarisation The Lehman Trilogy will be lapped up by eager audiences. And for sheer technical theatrical genius, the play is in a class of its own.

Runs until 31st August. To be screened via NTLive on 25 July 

Photo credit: Mark Douet

The Lehman Trilogy - Review

National Theatre, London



*****


Written by Stefano Massini
Adapted by Ben Power
Directed by Sam Mendes

Simon Russell Beale, Ben Miles and Adam Godley

The creation, rise and ultimate fall of one of the largest investment firms in the USA might not seem like the most interesting subject matter to embrace for three and a half hours, but with The Lehman Trilogy at the National Theatre Sam Mendes directs an epic and engrossing tale of three brothers over three centuries, forever foreshadowed by our knowledge of the 2008 financial crash.

The trilogy opens with ‘Part 1: Three Brothers’, with each Lehmann brother arriving on the shores of the newly prosperous USA from Rimpar in Germany and settling among the cotton plantations of Montgomery, Alabama. The impeccable Simon Russell Beale plays Henry Lehman, the oldest of the three and the chief decision maker much to the chagrin of second brother Emanuel Lehman (Ben Miles). Adam Godley completes the trio as Mayer Lehman, affectionately (and less affectionately) referred to as ‘the potato’ and the intermediary between his older brothers. The three narrate the tale and, between them, bring to life the wives, classmates, colleagues and children required to take us through their journey of growth and multiple rebrands thanks to the invention of that ineluctable staple of today’s business world: the middlemen. From cotton to coffee to Wall Street, the three performers are a masterclass in storytelling. Es Devlin’s design, a surprisingly unpretentious square, rotating, glass-laden stage; video backdrop from Luke Halls; and live tinkled ivories played by Candida Caldicot drive the action from light business banter to massive loss.

In ‘Part 2: Fathers & Sons’ the second generation of American Lehmans take the helm, with the scarily strategic Philip (Beale) pushing the business into the industrial age in much the same way he chooses a wife (marks out of 100, obviously, with Godley hilariously embodying each candidate). In this Act, the play really embraces its “The Big Short”- esque style, informing the audience as much as entertaining them, as Philip’s own son (Robert, played suavely by Godley) describes the impending shift of fortune from industry to entertainment at the beginning of the 20th Century. This style is further highlighted with the delicate balance of the ever present but unseen and fictitious tightrope walker Caprinsky as a masterly metaphor, together with the continuous comic candour that Mendes directs so well.

‘Part 3: The Immortal’ sees an interesting female finally but briefly enter the fold with the introduction of the brash Ruth Lamar from Illinois (Beale, charming), who is Bobby Lehman’s wife and partner through the crash of 1929 where Lehman Brothers’ hangs on by the skin of its teeth. The imminent downfall of the company at the beginning of the next century is underscored by the repetitive script, which is as deafening as the quite purposeful shift into consumerism which firmly earns the bank its “evil corporation” crown.

The Lehman Trilogy is an intelligent look behind the scenes of the American Dream and the smoke and mirrors of the corporate world, brought to light by Mendes’ astute direction and a stellar cast. 3.5 hours well spent.

Runs until 20th October

Reviewed by Heather Deacon

Photo credit: Mark Douet

King Lear - Review

National Theatre, London


****

Written by William Shakespeare
Directed by Sam Mendes

Simon Russell Beale and Olivia Vinall

There’s a vogue at the National to thrust Shakespeare’s work into the modern era and with a nod to thrift, the military garb from the South Bank’s recent Othello is coldly furnishing forth the costume requirements of Simon Russell Beale’s King Lear. Indeed, as the closing act conflict plays out, the Dover denouement is often interrupted by the sound effect of jet fighters screaming overhead. It’s a leap in time that doesn’t always sit easily with a tale so firmly rooted in pre-Saxon history.

In an image that highlights the play's thematic plea for Lear to “see clearly”, the programme cover features a half-face close up of the bearded, brooding, Beale. The reality, at least for much of the first half is a very different King. Barely thirteen years since he delivered his career defining Hamlet, Russell Beale’s Lear, stooped and Stalin-like, scuttles around the stage suggesting a hybrid of Captain Birds Eye and Del Boy’s Uncle Albert. There are moments when his overly clipped delivery is eased off, but some noticeable early episodes of agony are squandered. His curse of sterility upon Goneril, arguably one of the most harrowing speeches written, falls short of the mark and that a few of the audience chuckled during Lear’s “O reason not the need” speech further suggests that the production still needs some fine tuning. After the break, Russell Beale excels and the moment late on, as Olivia Vinall’s Cordelia wakes him in his hospital bed is exquisite.

There is some outstanding company work on offer. Stanley Townsend’s Kent offers an energetic brute of loyalty to the King whilst Anna Maxwell Martin’s vitriolic Regan positively sizzles, first as the uncaring daughter and later as a steamily seductive merry widow. Sam Troughton’s bastard Edmund is as dark a baddy as he should be and Tom Brooke’s Edgar is an eloquent and touching interpretation of a complex soul, bravely performed nude through much of the Mad Tom storm sequence. As the Fool, Adrian Scarborough gives an intelligent interpretation to another of Shakespeare’s enigmatic characters and Mendes offers his own explanation to that Bard-Cluedo question: What exactly happens to the Fool? Well in this show he is brutally murdered: by Lear; in a bathtub; bloodily battered with the lead piping. Perhaps the standout performance amongst Lear’s court is that of Stephen Boxer’s Gloucester. Boxer effortlessly coaxes the beauty from his verse and rarely has his character’s confession “I stumbled when I saw” sounded so poignant. If Shakespeare knew that Gloucester’s blinding would entertain a blood-thirsty Elizabethan audience, so too does movie-maker Mendes who with an eye for a good visual and perhaps a nod to Quentin Tarantino, updates the hapless man's torture having him first waterboarded during the “wherefore to Dover?” interrogation before the required eye-gouging. In this production administered with a corkscrew, natch.

The production is unquestionably a brilliant King Lear, even if not one of the finest. It’s a fresh interpretation of the classic tale and its extremes of good, evil and the redemptive blessing of forgiveness prove as relevant today as ever. It’s a version that will be talked about for years and if you are lucky enough to acquire a ticket, (they are like gold dust) it is an evening very well spent.

Booking through to May 2014

Skyfall - Review

On general release, certificate 12A

****

Skyfall is the 23^rd film in the James Bond franchise and as has been widely reported, is released to coincide with the 50^th anniversary of  Dr No, the first in the series. It’s a dark movie, featuring a Bond who, in the words of director Sam Mendes is a “combination of lassitude, boredom, depression [and] difficulty with what he's chosen to do for a living”.

The acting in Skyfall is outstanding. Whilst Daniel Craig continues to refine and define his interpretation of 007 the film introduces the elite of Britain's performing talent, the likes of Ralph Fiennes, Rory Kinnear, Naomie Harris and Ben Whishaw, to the various echelons of Judi Dench's MI6. Noted theatre critic Mark Shenton tweeted on seeing the film of the legacy owed to British theatre by world cinema. He is not wrong. Shenton further points out that several of these names have already gone so far as to have reached the pinnacle of playing Hamlet within their stage careers. In the current climate of public spending cuts Mendes is clearly leaving this Government department very ably staffed, pending the next Bond instalment. To witness the interaction between these performers, including Javier Bardem as the villain and even a cameo from Albert Finney towards the film’s conclusion, sees the movie mirror the stellar casting that the Harry Potter franchise has consistently attracted over the years.

Whilst the script is biting, witty and sharp, the plot disappoints and to describe the story in even the remotest detail risks spoiling. The evolution of this yarn has had a chequered path as MGM’s finances wobbled during the film’s development and it shows. The plot ultimately evolves into a British based version of Whitney Houston and Kevin Costner's The Bodyguard, an unquestionably well acted but nonetheless unfulfilling narrative.

For the fans, the classic ingredients of Bond are all there. The lines, THAT tune, and an outstanding opening sequence filmed in Turkey are all an absolute delight. Bond’s women are stylish and sexy as well as being thoughtfully fleshed out as characters, though perhaps the film could have cut back on some of the topless nudity. There is only so much of Daniel Craig’s chest that one can bear to watch over the course of two plus hours.  The film also largely plays out in London and the UK and again it is pleasing to see so much of the capital city and the nation's landscapes being exploited by Mendes in this 50^th anniversary tribute.

Whilst the photography and the performances shine, some of the action sequences and visual effects disappoint. Relatively early in the movie when a prominent London building is the target for a terrorist explosion, the Bond special effects team fail to deliver a convincing blast. It has also been widely trailed that the film features a tube train crashing. When this moment occurs, the visual effects involved in capturing the destruction of the (clearly model) train carriages are poor. The producers need to bear in mind that modern audiences have sophisticated tastes. They are accustomed to, for example,  both the excellence of the Harry Potter visual effects and also the outstanding work of James Cameron, so when in 2012, the audience is presented with a crashing Underground train that looks as authentic as Spielberg’s shark from the 1970’s, they are entitled to feel cheated. At the risk of being accused of pedantry, a minor point of location credibility also extends to the actual tube trains used. A journey in the movie through Temple tube station on the District Line is being made by a deep “tube” train, rather than the more “rectangular” stock that actually serve that line. The film is of course being marketed at a global audience, many of whom will not have the faintest idea of what carriages run on which London Underground lines. But some of that audience will be Londoners and they will watch those scenes with some part of their suspended disbelief (essential for all story telling) being gradually brought back down to earth. And when filmmakers choose to play fast and loose with even the most basic elements of consistency and respect for location, they insult  their audience's intelligence and it can leave a temporarily unsatisfying taste. On a positive note, Bond's on-foot chase of a villain through the foot tunnels of the tube station is the best such sequence since John Landis' An American Werewolf in London including an impressive and much envied slide down a deep Tube escalator. 

The climax of the movie, without revealing anything, is a shoot out between the good guys and the bad guys that relies too heavily on silhouettes machine-gunning each other and lobbing grenades and sticks of dynamite. For this sequence, less would have been more, and again a model of the final building in flames was visually disappointing.

Whilst the opening and closing chapters of this Bond tale are truly striking moments of quality cinema, it is a disappointment that the intervening narrative lacks depth and credibility. Notwithstanding, Mendes and Eon Productions have crafted a worthy and watchable adventure that demands to be savoured on the big screen before it is swallowed up for broadcast on the Sky 007 channel, if only to gasp in amazment at the opening sequence of Bond grappling with a villain on top of a moving train. A classic action movie sequence, captured brilliantly by Mendes and his crew.

James Bond is a very modern icon of very traditional British culture and this film is gloriously British. Mendes however has had his creditable turn at the wheel of this Aston Martin of the movie business. He should park the car and give the keys to Danny Boyle.