Don't Look Now - Review

New Wolsey Theatre, Ipswich

***

 

Adapted by Nell Leyshon

From the story by Daphne du Maurier

Directed by Douglas Rintoul

Evie Marlow

Don’t Look Now is a tough story to translate to the stage. It is a tale of the rawest emotional cruelty, as we find leading characters John and Laura trying to come to terms with the recent loss of their five year-old daughter Christine to meningitis. That the story is set in Venice, against a backdrop of psychic phenomena and a serial killer on the loose, only adds to the challenges facing the show’s creative team.

Daphne du Maurier crafted her yarn perfectly, paying perfect respect to John and Laura’s unimaginable grief. In a compellingly scary tale, she wove the returning spirit of Christine into her parents’ Venetian stay via two sisters, one a blind medium, whose paths frequently and coincidentally collide with the grieving couple’s in the city’s restaurants and cathedrals.

Perhaps the biggest horror story of the night is Nell Leyshon's creaking adaptation. For while the script bears a resemblance to the du Maurier's original in its plotline, the dialogue on offer is a disappointment. The incredibly sensitive subject of the loss of a child is tackled addressed with far less care than is merited. To condense the work of a genius into a one-act 100minute thriller requires writing and acting skills of the highest quality. Sadly, Douglas Rintoul directs a cliched take on the original which, for all his cast’s good intentions, barely rises beyond melodrama.

Mark Jackson and Sophie Robinson play the bereaved parents, as Alex Bulmer plays the medium and Olivia Carruthers her sister. All put in solid performances, together with the excellent young Evie Marlow whose Christine is spookily fun. But for any story’s suspense to truly work, let alone a horror story, its first requirement has to be to suspend our disbelief. Sadly such suspension is patchy at best and while the story’s bloody climax offers a moderately satisfying dose of gore, it’s a long time to wait for a slashed splash of stage blood.

There’s a modicum of Halloween horror to be enjoyed in Don’t Look Now. Just don’t look to set your expectations too high and you won’t be disappointed.

Runs until 25th October then on tour

Photo credit: Manuel Harlan

Punch - Review

 Apollo Theatre, London

****

Written by James Graham

Directed by Adam Penford

David Shields

First seen at the Nottingham Playhouse last year and followed by a brief run at the Young Vic, Punch arrives in the West End, examining the story of Jacob Dunne, a man who was to kill James Hodgkinson with one punch in an assault that had no murderous intent. Subsequently convicted and jailed for manslaughter, Jacob was to go on and forge a remarkably compassionate connection with James’s parents Joan and David through the little-used channel of restorative justice. James Graham has taken this real-life episode of some of the highest manifestations of the human condition and woven it into a punchy 2 1/2 hour narrative.

The play’s original cast have been maintained in a superb display of ensemble acting. Leading the show is David Shields as Jacob, onstage almost throughout the play and delivering a towering performance of Jacob’s journey. The five other members of the company assume multiple roles throughout, with standout work coming from Julie Hesmondhalgh and Tony Hirst as Joan and David. Hesmondhalgh in particular offering a masterclass in the controlled rage of grief.

The evening however is an occasion of two halves, with act one a relentlessly staccato burst of expositional scenes describing Jacob, Joan and David’s lives in the build-up to the punch and in the aftermath of the fatal blow. It is not until after the interval that the writing starts to soar in his portrayal of the dynamic between Jacob and Joan & David. In the penultimate scenes the detailed dramatic tension between the three is sensational.

Anna Fleischle's stark brutalist set is immaculately lit by Robbie Butler, contributing to a production of immensely moving theatre.

Runs until 29th November

Photo credit: Marc Brenner

Ghost Stories - Review

Peacock Theatre, London

****

Written Jeremy Dyson and Andy Nyman

Directed by Jeremy Dyson, Andy Nyman and Sean Holmes

Clive Mantle

Some 15 years after its Lyric Hammersmith premiere and like a hardy stage perennial, Ghost Stories returns for a Halloween inspired seasonal six-week run at London's Peacock Theatre. Andy Nyman and Jeremy Dyson’s play is an exquisitely crafted piece of hokum in which, from the opening blackout through to the evening’s finale, literally nothing is what it seems.

In a tight one-act drama that chillingly fills 90 minutes, Nyman & Dyson shoehorn a handful of gruesome vignettes, each of which is perfectly performed. No spoilers in this review, save to say that the magic of the show’s ghostliness lies in its ingeniously created suspense. Each spooky yarn builds towards a jump scare that sees all of the intended frights landing with pinpoint precision.

Truly an ensemble piece, the main cast of Jonathan Guy Lewis, David Cardy, Preston (son of Andy) Nyman and Clive Mantle make the narrative flow with spot-on timing and immaculately nuanced acting. A nod too to Lloyd McDonagh whose modest role makes the nightmares truly come to life.

Like any good ghostly yarn, the show makes outstanding use of light, darkness, haze and illusion. Jon Bausor’s set design, James Farncombe’s lighting Nick Manning’s haunting sound design and Scott Penrose’s eye-boggling special effects all contributing to make the terror seem real.

A cracking night at the theatre, Ghost Stories is the scariest fun in town.

Runs until 8th November

Photo credit: Hugo Glendinning

Hamlet - Review

National Theatre, London

****

Written by William Shakespeare

Directed by Robert Hastie

Hiran Abeysekera

Robert Hastie’s take on Hamlet is an exciting night at the theatre. Set on Ben Stones’s bold palatial staging that makes full use of the Lyttleton Theatre’s towering flys, Hastie mines the humour in this most famous of Shakespeare’s tragedies, making the narrative refreshingly accessible while staying true (for the most part) to the original text.

Hiran Abeysekera plays the Prince of Denmark, with a delivery that’s confident and wisely nuanced. At times perhaps his speech is too fast with moments of the verse’s beauty sometimes garbled. But Abeysekera’s authenticity shines through and he can be rightly proud of his impish energetic Hamlet. The final act’s fencing bout (brilliantly fight designed by Kate Waters) against Tom Glenister’s Laertes is exhausting to watch - so heaven knows what a physical challenge it must be to Abeysekera. Great theatre though, with Hastie splashing lashings of stage blood whenever the story gets gory.

Francesca Mills as Ophelia is enchanting. At first a provocative coquette, her descent into madness makes for harrowing drama and genuine pathos. Alistair Petrie as Claudius brings a patrician wickedness to the role and if Hastie has made the role of one of the Bard’s most brutal baddies slightly too melodramatic, it only adds to the evening's murderous mayhem. Other class acts in the company include Geoffrey Streatfield’s prattling Polonius (who is also gifted a hilariously bloody demise in the Closet scene) and Ryan Ellsworth who takes on the honours of the Ghost, Player King and First Gravedigger magnificently. If there is one scene where Hastie’s editing has been too severe, it is in the cutting of the Ghost’s brief speech in the Closet scene. Those six lines add a particular heft to the narrative.

Richard Taylor’s music adds to the occasion, as Hastie’s Hamlet offers up a noble stab at this massive tale. An evening of classy classic drama that will be enjoyed by both Shakespearean cognoscenti and novices alike.

Runs until 22nd November

Photo credit: Sam Taylor

The Importance of Being Earnest - Review

Noel Coward Theatre, London

**

Written by Oscar Wilde

Directed by Max Webster

Stephen Fry

When it opened at the National Theatre late last year, Max Webster’s take on The Importance of Being Earnest was a work of theatrical quality and imagination, delivered by a company that dripped in expertise and experience. Now, transplanted across the river for a 3-month West End residency, the original’s acting genius is replaced by stunt casting and celebrity that takes an inspirational concept, reducing it to poorly performed moments of silliness.

Topping the bill for the evening is Stephen Fry, best known for his screen achievements rather than a career on the boards. In an unexplained gender-swap, Fry replaces (the previously excellent) Sharon D Clarke as Lady Bracknell. In what should be one of the most exquisite roles in the canon for women over 50, Fry gives a hammy performance that other than showcasing his distinctly recognisable voice delivering some of the most famous lines in English literature outside of Shakespeare, adds nothing to Lady B whatsoever. He is of course a big star and will no doubt draw in the punters - but they’ll be disappointed to find the actor delivers little more than a pound-shop Julian Clary.

The evenings other star name is Olly Alexander as Algernon Moncrieff. Alexander focusses on silliness over dramatic heft and while the role is undoubtedly complex, one feels that he barely skims its potential. Likewise Nathan Stewart-Jarrett who seems to concentrate more on the mania of Jack Worthing rather than his character’s depths.

Kitty Hawthorne and Jessica Whitehurst are respectively Gwendolen and Cecily, two parts that again, inexplicably, Webster has chosen to play through channels of over-acted histrionics. The physical comedy of Hayley Carmichael, doubling up as the faithful retainers Lane and Merriman has faint echoes of Tom Eden’s genius as Alfie in One Man Two Guvnors - but its little more than that, as Carmichael’s work descends into repetitive cliché. In a rare moment of class, Hugh Dennis as the Rev'd Canon Chasuble is brilliant.

The scenery is tired. Back at the Lyttleton, Rae Smith’s original designs were sensational. Here, the grassy banks of the Hertfordshire garden scenes are shockingly frayed, while actors waiting offstage for their cue are clearly visible in the wings.

This is a poorly executed transfer and other than the stunt casting, it is hard to see why the National and their co-producers have staged it. Perhaps they could resist everything except temptation?

Runs until 10th January 2026

Photo credit: Marc Brenner