The Tell Tale Heart - Review

National Theatre, London


**


Written and directed by Anthony Neilson
Based on the short story by Edgar Allan Poe

Tamara Lawrance

Expectations are high for a festive ghost story from the National. With its world class resources, the theatre offers a wondrous potential to stage the most chilling of tales and when the source material is a famed Edgar Allan Poe short chiller, the anticipation is only heightened. But in Anthony Neilson’s The Tell Tale Heart transplant, Poe's gloriously gothic original is served up as a modern-day Christmas turkey.

There's attempted humour in the script, as horror can often sit alongside carefully crafted comedy. But Neilson’s three-hander fuses The Writer, The Landlady, and The Detective, (Tamara Lawrance, Imogen Doel and David Carlyle respectively) with dialogue that is crass, tacky and often puerile. Where monologues should be advancing the narrative, a glib joke about a girl being bullied by everyone around her because of her looks, is unforgivable. And in an unnecessary distraction the text plays fast and loose with sexualities too.

Good horror works well when the terror is subtle and the special effects are strong. While there are some scary touches of genius from designer Francis O’Connor, Nick Powell’s music doesn't quite hit the spot, and his sound design (where a strong bass heartbeat should be de rigueur) is woeful.

Perhaps the truly killer finish comes from the Writer’s final words: “the play is shite anyway”.

Runs until 8th January 2019

Reviewed by Eris

Photo credit: Manuel Harlan

Harold and Maude - Review

Charing Cross Theatre, London

****

Written by Colin Higgins

Directed by Thom Southerland

Bill Milner and Sheila Hancock

The art of telling truly great stories is in part a science. A captivating premise and fully formed characters can offer an opening for an audience to connect with a production. Occasionally it’s done well. But when the formula is perfected, the result is undeniably pure magic. 

Hopeful, joyous and hilarious, Harold and Maude is one of these instances that nudges towards perfection. It is the story of a nineteen-year-old who is deeply disconnected from the world, a much older woman who with a profound connection to life and their effect upon one another after meeting at a funeral. Yet while much may be made of the scandalous nature of the relationship for the age gap spanning several decades, to describe it in these terms alone is reductive. 

Harold Chasen (Bill Milner) perfectly articulates the façade that a young man might put up to shield himself from a mother’s projections on to her son. Mrs Chasen (Rebecca Caine) is a formidable yet not monstrous woman, desperate only for her son to grow up and take responsibility, but in the form of a respectable marriage. It is, after all, all she knows.

As Harold spends more time with Maude, we witness how he blooms beneath her revitalising effect. She has lived so many lives, while Harold has yet to live one and the contrast is stark.

Sheila Hancock as Maude is utterly captivating; a magnetic, technicolour whirling dervish, it should come as no surprise that Harold falls in love with her. She is spectacularly lovable and unbelievably believable.  

A snappy – yet not rushed – script lovingly draws out the nuances in key relationships; between the titular characters, Harold and his mother, Harold and the world, Maude and the world. Amidst it all there are many things including a seal, a gong, a tree and some extraordinary paintings. None of this is superfluous, though. Everything has a part to play and bears testament to a masterful feat of set design (Francis O’Connor) and direction. 

The supporting cast are fantastically humorous and talented, alternating between bringing Michael Bruce’s score to the stage with an array of instruments and playing various characters. Samuel Townsend delivers a particularly noteworthy performance.  

When told well, coming of age stories are very often a reminder of the fragility and beauty of life, inspiring a carpe diem attitude tempered with immense gratitude. That the ‘Harold and Maude effect’ delivers this message completely liberated of any subtleties is a shining beacon of hope for humanity in otherwise trying times. Like Maude herself, it really is ‘an original talker’ and a production entirely befitting her sparkle.

Runs until 31st March

Reviewed by Bhakti Gajjar

Photo credit: Darren Bell

Loserville - Review

Garrick Theatre, London

****

Book, music and lyrics by Elliot Davis and James Bourne

Director: Steven Dexter

This review was first published in The Public Reviews

Eliza Hope Bennett and Aaron Sidwell in the Planetarium

Busting on to London’s West End following a run at the West Yorkshire Playhouse, Loserville is a rare beast, an entirely original musical brimming with innovation. Free of star billings and with no movie or jukebox tie-in, this show stands on the infectious confectionery of its lyrics and a deliciously talented cast.

Staged on an amusingly “low-tech/hi-tech” melee of printed circuit boards, this all-American story – played out in the 1970s – follows teenager Michael Dork, a geeky, youthful, Bill Gates-type character, as he discovers the foundation of internet computer connectivity. Along the way he encounters love, betrayal, jealousy and rivalry, not to mention the villainous scheming of the local rich-kid bully, out to steal his invention. Francis O’Connor’s design, with oversized pencils and notepads, suggests a Matilda, albeit one for high school kids, and the whole visual impression is that of a retro cartoon-style America, in which the digital age has yet to take off.

Responsible for the music and lyrics, as well as the book, are Elliott Davis and James Bourne. Bourne was the creative force behind the UK band Busted and to those familiar with his recordings, the style of his compositions will not disappoint. He has a clever eye and ear for the nuances, angsts and frustrations of teenage life and the songs Don’t Let ‘Em Bring You Down and The Little Things provide amusing vehicles which not only portray the boys’ awkwardness but also describe the teenage girls’ recognition of the testosterone fuelled course that boys typically chart through adolescence. Whilst the bouncing Busted tone and sometimes smutty lyrics are a guilty pleasure to which to listen, the plot does occasionally become more reflective, though plaintive number We’re Not Alone, set in the town’s (beautifully lit) planetarium, fails to move in the way that the writers would have intended. Steven Dexter has directed a show that is a fun and imaginative night out, but is nonetheless a tale that lacks a central passion. The plot pales in comparison with, say, the grand celebration of human diversity that was the bedrock underlying Hairspray. It feels simply too hard, and actually too geeky, for the audience to care too much about the invention of email.

Aaron Sidwell leads the line as Dork, and whilst his acting is convincing, his voice lacks a smoothness that one might expect from a West End production. No doubt as the production settles into its run his vocal performance will mature. Lucas Lloyd is Dork’s closest buddy, and Richard Lowe in this role, presents the most moving portrayal of social inadequacy of the night. His solo number Holly, I’m The One, in which he painfully pines for the girl who Dork is romancing, is perceptive and poignant. As Holly, Eliza Hope Bennett is both convincing and impressive to listen to whilst Charlotte Harwood’s performance as the bitchy girl Leia is also a fun caricature to savour. The astonishing performance of the night however is delivered by NYMT alumnus Stewart Clarke as bad guy Eddie, not only making his professional and West End debut, but filling the shoes of Gareth Gates who had created the role in Leeds. It may well be easier to act the villain, oozing pecs, sex and charisma, but Clarke owns the stage with powerful delivery and superbly controlled poise.

This ball of candy floss of a show undoubtedly makes a fun family treat. Nick Winston’s clever choreography delights and the production will appeal to both those old enough to remember the 70s and those young enough to enjoy the clever songs of Bourne and Davis.

Runs until 2nd March