Great Britain - Review - National Theatre

National Theatre, London

****

Written by Richard Bean
Directed by Nicholas Hytner

Billie Piper

One suspects that the biggest item on the production budget of the National Theatre’s Great Britain, opening last night on the South Bank, will have been the fees of the libel lawyers hired to meticulously scrutinise Richard Bean’s work. Barely was the ink dry on the Old Bailey phone hacking verdicts last week, when the National unveiled the production, the development of which has been kept under the tightest of wraps, lest it influence said trials. The play examines the incestuous relationship between government, press and police and although Bean may well be the nations's latest favourite funny man, as he rides the success of his One Man, Two Guvnors, fans of that blockbuster (also Hytner directed) be warned, there is no eye-watering comeddia dell’arte slapstick to be found here. Rather, Great Britain reminds one of TV's long lost Spitting Image, with gloriously recognisable lampoons of some deeply uncomfortable truths.

Bean's text offers nothing that is revelatory. Billie Piper puts in a cracking turn as Paige Britain, News Editor of The Free Press, the country's biggest selling red-top tabloid paper. Where many of the play's characters are blindingly obvious caricatures of the famous, hers is perhaps the best dramatic creation of the night, a manipulative Chorus at times speaking directly to the audience, elsewhere to be found fellating her way up the greasy poles of male-dominated legislature and law enforcement.

Some of Bean's gags are en pointe, others crash to earth in moments of blinding obviousness, yet amongst this witty yet ultimately depressing slice of modern life, there are some standout performances alongside Piper. Robert Glenister is a monstrously monstering Editor, ultimately promoted to spin doctor at No 10, Andrew Woodall is a chillingly beliveable Head of PR for the Metropolitan Police whilst Aaron Neil’s cop, Commissioner Kassam is a cracking performance though only of a thinly sketched out bumbling stereotype. The media-mogul who owns The Free Press is Paschal O’Leary a self-made Irish billionaire and whilst Dermot Crowley delivers am entertaining performance, neither he nor the play are a patch on Anthony Hopkins’ grotesque Lambert Le Roux that bestrode the Olivier stage in David Hare’s Pravda, some 30 years ago.

Bean's writing takes aim at nearly all of the fourth estate. Paige Britain makes no bones in admitting her rag is an “end of the pier” show for the nation, whilst other recognisable broadsheets include a sniggeringly titled The Dependent and best of all, The Guardener (sic) whose strapline is "We think, so you don’t have to". We laugh at the buffoonery and manipulative chicanery, whilst Neil’s performance as the first man ever to be tazered on stage is a cracker.

The dark side of this abused democracy is here too. We learn of an innocent man lynched because of a misleading story in The Free Press, we see a story about Jimmy Savile spiked by the newsroom, and a good cop kills himself as the corruption of his moral fibre sees blind justice led astray. That the (fictional) abducted young twins however, whose phones are hacked by Britain’s team, are called “Mills” is crass. Don’t the Dowlers deserve any respect? This name should be changed forthwith.

Great Britain deserves plaudits for its immediacy, relevance and outstanding stagecraft, that sees the nation’s leading theatre assemble a fine company amidst stunning sets and technical wizardry and challenge head on three of the country’s most powerful institutions. It might not be the National’s best, but it’s a damn good play nonetheless. Catch it if you can. 

Now booking until August 23rd

Wendy & Peter Pan

Royal Shakespeare Theatre, Stratford upon Avon

*****
Written by Ella Hickson
Adapted from the novel by JM Barrie
Directed by Jonathan Munby

Fiona Button and Guy Henry

Yet again the RSC surpass themselves with their festive offering of Ella Hickson’s new adaptation of the JM Barrie classic. The ingredients are all there for a fabulous family theare trip. Lavish flocks of flying actors, scenery that swirls from the Darling children’s bedroom in Edwardian London, to the lagoons and secret hideaways of Neverland. A thoroughly dastardly Captain Hook (for once not doubled up by the actor playing Mr Darling) and possibly the most stylish Crocodile ever to grace the stage. Oh and the pirate ship is impressively scary too.

So, with the kids sorted, what have the RSC laid on for the grown-ups? Quite simply a tale that will make one think, laugh and leave tear ducts positively drained by the final curtain. Introduced to the Darling children, all played by adults and thus lending an enhanced air of make-believe/pretend to the whole tale, we meet Wendy, Michael and John along with their fourth sibling, Tom. Early on, Tom takes ill and dies. (His death is not at all visually harrowing for little ones, but lays down an emotional sub-text of such simple power that it renders many adults sobbing in the first 15 minutes). And this is where Hickson strikes pure gold. Wendy, the most caring of the children, is concerned for the grief of her family and from her desire to just “bring Tom back” to assuage their pain, so does Peter Pan become conjured up as the play takes us to Neverland to look for Tom amongst the Lost Boys.

In her debut RSC season Fiona Button is Wendy. Wanting to play with the boys, but weighed down by the expected sexist burdens of expected household and family responsibilities, hers is a cracking performance of a young woman on the verge of a much longed for emancipation. The depth of Wendy’s character and how Button makes her soar (in all senses of the word!) will stay with me for a long time. Sam Swann is Peter, playfully pushing at Wendy’s naivete yet craving the maternal nurturing for so long denied him in a performance of clever complexity. Guy Henry’s Hook is truly boo-deserving, capturing a neediness to Hook that hints at a desire for Wendy. As the tick-tocking crocodile (a classy green-eyed Arthur Kyeyune) swims past his ship, Hook’s sad reflection on the passing of time is another wonderfully perceptive comment from Hickson. 

Amongst a company of perfect performances, a sparkling gem of this Neverland is Charlotte Mills’ Tink. No size-zero diminutive waif, this fairy is an amply proportioned Estuary-English voiced chav who rips up our “fairy-tale” expectations of Barrie’s famous sprite and makes her a spirit for the modern common era. Bravo to the RSC for making a bold statement that rips up at least one of today’s ghastly role-models, so easily foisted on young girls.

Andrew Woodall and Rebecca Johnson’s Darling parents are subtle portrayals of devastating grief and also some touching humour. As he occasionally hits the bottle whilst she, in a nod to the Suffragette times, explores a world of employment outside the home, so does the RSC subtly educate and inform.

A (truncated) roll call of the show’s creatives salutes fightmeister Terry King who has packed the show full of swashbuckling sword fights, Colin Richmond’s gorgeous designs that use the full height and drop of the world class Royal Shakespeare Theatre and Matt Costain’s breathtaking aerial work. All under the wise and clever helm of Jonathan Munby.

This is a classic tale, re-imagined and brought bang up to date whilst staying true to its heritage. Flawless perfect theatre that is unquestionably unmissable. Fun for all the family – and don’t forget your tissues!

Runs until 2nd March 2014