Macbeth at the National Theatre - Review

National Theatre, London


***


Written by William Shakespeare
Directed by Rufus Norris

Rory Kinnear

The themes of Shakespeare’s Macbeth are timeless. Avaricious envy, revenge, and the consequences of guilt have driven humanity’s darker side for centuries and in the hands of a talented cast, Macbeth’s journey makes for compelling theatre.

On the National Theatre’s Olivier stage, Rufus Norris has assembled just such a cast. Once the weird sisters have him under their spell Rory Kinnear's Macbeth convincingly topples from dutiful Thane to treacherous subject - his own frailties steeled by Ann-Marie Duff as his purposeful wife. Macbeth will always be a character imbued with his own late-dawning, if misguided, sense of immortality. In this production Kinnear, who is a joy to watch throughout especially in making the classic soliloquies his own, is never finer than in his endgame of realisation, learning of MacDuff’s untimely ripping from his mother’s womb. 

Duff is pure, if fatally flawed, evil. We believe in her capacity to dash her suckling baby’s brains out, with Duff then making Lady Macbeth’s descent into a suicidal insanity, entirely plausible. With any semblance of a moral compass long since vanished, hers truly is a lost soul. 

But it’s not just Rufus Norris’ starry leads that drive this production. The play reunites (in Shakespearean terms) Stephen Boxer’s sage Duncan with Kevin Harvey’s energised Banquo, last seen together when Boxer was Titus to Harvey’s Aaron. Both men are English theatre gems. It is only a shame that Banquo’s ghostly re-appearances carry no dialogue. Harvey’s mellifluous Scouse twang is a delight and one longs for his future Othello. Elsewhere, as a passionate yet cynical MacDuff, Patrick O’Kane defines burning vengeance.

Here however, the Bard’s beautiful prose is overburdened by Norris and designer Rae Smith’s contemporary interpretations. The setting is “now, after a civil war”, with the accompanying programme essays making throwaway comparisons to Margaret Thatcher, Hillary Clinton and Brexit. A curious set design comprising a steeply raked ramp, poles and drapes made from (what appear to be) bin-liners seems to have been constructed with more of an eye for the demands of a touring production (Macbeth takes to the road in the autumn) rather than using the full potential of the Olivier's gaping jaws.

The politics may be clumsy but the acting is beautiful. Make no mistake, Rory Kinnear is a magnificent Macbeth.

Runs until 23rd June in repertory - Screened via NTLive on 10th May at cinemas across the country.

Photo credit: Brinkhoff Mögenburg

Pippin - Review

Southwark Playhouse, London


*****

Music and lyrics by Stephen Schwartz

Book by Roger O. Hirson

Directed by Jonathan O'Boyle

Jonathan Carlton and Genevieve Nicole

ON MARCH 7 I WILL BE HOSTING A POST-SHOW Q&A WITH JONATHAN O'BOYLE AND THE PIPPIN CAST 

JOIN US!

Transferring down from Manchester’s Hope Mill Theatre, Jonathan O’Boyle’s production of Pippin, now playing at the Southwark Playhouse, has lost none of the pizzazz and poignancy that marked it out as one of the nation's finest fringe productions of last year.

One of Stephen Schwartz’s early compositions, the show is loosely based around a group of travelling players who tell a fictionalised story of Pippin, the (real life) younger son of the emperor Charlemagne who conquered much of continental Europe many centuries ago. To describe any more of the plot would only confuse readers - suffice to say that Schwartz spices his tale with themes of politics, war, love and above all, self-discovery.

In Pippin however it is not so much what Schwartz is saying, but rather the way he says it that makes the musical such a stand out sensation. His songs are, for the most part, perfectly structured harmonies while the Bob Fosse inspired choreography was to showcase Fosse's stylish and distinctive class well in advance of his more famous Cabaret and Chicago outings.

O’Boyle has transferred virtually his entire Manchester cast to London*, with Genevieve Nicole heading the lineup as the Leading Player and bringing a powerful Mephistophelean nuance to the part. Statuesque, Nicole bestrides the sage with stunning song and dance.

The title role presents an interesting challenge. Pippin’s journey through the show is from privileged prince to commoner - travelling an arc that includes love, murder and power, along with a fair measure of bungling haplessness. Jonathan Carlton is perfectly cast, rising to his part’s musical challenges with a particularly gorgeous take on the act one closer of Morning Glow. 

In a glorious moment of (scripted) self-indulgence Mairi Barclay is Pippin’s incorrigible grandmother Berthe. As this most glorious of grannies celebrates her wisdom and old age in No Time At All, the number evolves into an audience singalong, with Barclay hilariously bringing the fourth wall crashing down around her. Barclay also offers a neat double-up as Pippin’s cunningly seductive stepmother Fastrada.

Fine work too from Tessa Kadler as Catherine, a widowed commoner who after the interval guides Pippin in the ways of love. Kadler’s interpretations of Schwartz's Kind of Woman and Love Song are particularly delicate turns, serving to contrast the realities of everyday humanity with the bombast of Pippin’s earlier life.

But above all it is the music and dance that drive a successful Pippin, lifting its (sometimes tortuous) narrative to a higher plane. Maeve Black’s set is an ingenious use of Southwark’s space, the concepts behind her designs proving simple yet striking and with footlights around the thrust's perimeter, the vaudeville suggestion is convincing. 

William Whelton’s choreography is audacious, breathtaking and sexy and yet incorporating beautifully executed nods to Fosse - the Manson Trio routine in act one proving especially fine. Above the stage Zach Flis’ band captures Schwartz’s complex melodies perfectly.

This Pippin is one of those productions rarely seen on the fringe. It captures the sparkle of Broadway, transporting it to south London in a whirl of unmissable musical theatre.

Magic to do? Not half!

* Amongst last year's cast was Olivia Faulkner who was an outstanding dance captain. Olivia died tragically in November and donations to the foundation established in her name to further mental health support in the dance world can be made here.

My review of the Manchester production can be read here.

Runs until 24th March

Photo credit: Pamela Raith

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

A Night At The Oscars - Review

Upstairs At The Gatehouse, London

****

Written by Chris Burgess

Directed by Bronagh Lagan

Laura Sillett, Kieran Brown, Steven Dalziel, Natalie Green

A Night At The Oscars is the latest revue to showcase some of the last century’s finest songs. In two hours (and two acts) Bronagh Lagan’s cast whirl their way through snatches of 60 songs all of which have an association with either Academy Award nominees or winners.

Chris Burgess has weaved a well-researched narrative that interjects moments of history and comment along the way. The strength of the show though rests in the talents of the 4 performers who make this snapshot tour of much of the American Songbook (and indeed, beyond) such a polished gem.

Kieran Brown, Steven Dalziel, Natalie Green and Laura Sillett are all on top form. Amidst so many classic songs it is hard to highlight the (many) treats, but the stand out moments from the women were both Judy Garland numbers from the first half. Sillett delivered an exquisite take on Yip Harburg’s Over The Rainbow that captured the song’s powerful fragility. The act’s closing number saw Green sing The Man That Got Away with a handling of the song that made for a spine-tingling heartbreaker, a reminder that this is a number that’s not heard often enough.

Dalziel and Brown offered a memorably tight duet of Brother, Can You Spare A Dime? (Harburg again) and also an unexpected close harmony of What’s New Pussycat. The tongue in cheek highlight of the gig however was undoubtedly Brown’s powerful delivery of Live And Let Die – he was magnificent!   

It is a credit to producer Katy Lipson for assembling such spot-on talents for her quartet who are well supported by musical director Ben Ferguson and choreographer Chris Cuming, who has produced well drilled excellence from his tiny cast in the Gatehouse’s compact space.

Carefully curated by Burgess, A Night At The Oscars is a charming production of a delightful idea.

Runs until 4th March, then playing at the Radlett Centre on 11th March

Photo credit: Tim Hall

Scott Alan Live At Zedel - Review

Live At Zedel, London

****

Scott Alan

Back in London for a one week residency in January, Scott Alan was in sparkling upbeat form as he played to a packed audience at Live At Zedel. With the human condition having long been Alan’s muse, the last time he’d played this venue had been a short season that proved to be an introspective glimpse into a soul heavy with sadness. One year on and it is clear the songwriter is in a much happier place. With boyfriend Jerry sat in the audience, the gig was a collection of songs new and old, woven into a set-list riddled with Alan’s hallmark rapid fire irreverence.

Opening with Goodbye New York, a number from his new album Lifeline, Alan brought a Billy Joel like intensity to his performance. The song, inspired by his move away from Manhattan to Florida was wry and reflective yet at the same time vibrant and set a neatly balanced tone for the evening.

On the night of this review there were three featured guest vocalists – Tyrone Huntley, Kayleigh McKnight and Tim Newman. To much joshing banter from Alan, Huntley was up first delivering sweet interpretations of Kiss The Air followed by Sail. Newman followed with an equally nuanced albeit distinctly different style, to take on I’ve Already Won. Alan himself wrapped up the first half with another new song (inspired by Jerry), My Unexpected Melody.

The second act kicked off with McKnight and Huntley delivering a powerful duet before a stunning solo from McKnight in I’m A Star, alongside a powerful accompaniment from Alan’s piano work, had the audience cheering.

Perhaps the evening’s most powerful moment was Huntley’s take on Anything Worth Holding Onto. One of Alan’s signature tunes the number reaches into the very heart of depression, demanding a well-honed voice to open up its carefully crafted complexities. Huntley grasped the melody, holding onto both its strength and its desperation. He stamped his own hallmark on the number in a way that has not been seen for many years and has been long overdue. It was a brilliant, memorable performance that defined a rather lovely cabaret.

Angry - Review

Southwark Playhouse, London


***


Written by Philip Ridley
Directed by Max Lindsay

Georgie Henley and Tyrone Huntley

In Angry at the Southwark Playhouse, Tyrone Huntley and Georgie Henley (Him and Her in the play) are quite possibly giving two of the finest performances to be found on London’s fringe. As they tackle Philip Ridley’s six monologues alternately one apiece, each of them immerses themselves in a coruscating display of compelling physical and vocal theatre.

If only Ridley’s script was as good as his cast. He has a keen eye for the zeitgeist of the time and his six speeches touch upon the moments that are recognisable to most of each night’s audience. But the flimsy structure that interlinks the pieces is close to non-existent resulting in a 90 minute (no interval) onslaught of little more than virtue signalling.

There’s a gender neutrality to the show that is of the moment too. Each night sees Him alternate with Her in the performance routine, and even in the brief cast sheet the typical stereotypes are challenged as “Her” is printed in blue, while “Him” is denoted in pink. Disappointingly, Ridley’s arguments are as fluid as his treatment of the sexes.

A very shouty opening routine – the only dialogue of the evening – makes liberal use of the F-word to the extent that the scene could have heralded a Derek & Clive tribute act. But as the solo scenes play out the play evolves into a litany of issues rather than a literary treat.

There’s a potentially gratuitous nod to the plight of seaborne trafficked individuals in Huntley’s final monologue Air (along with a suspicious whiff of anti-semitism too elsewhere in that routine) while in Bloodshot,  Henley’s encounter with an assasilant in the park turns a moment of a woman’s sexual terror into her ecstasy. This scene in particular is deeply troubling, almost as if a misogynist Ridley is sanctioning sexual violence. 

Ridley's work may be a disjointed take on dystopia but the acting is flawless. Go and see Angry if only to catch two skilled performers delivering a monologue masterclass.

Runs until 10th March 

Carmen 1808 - Review

Union Theatre, London


**


Music by Georges Bizet
Arranged by Teddy Clements
Book and lyrics by Phil Willmott
Adapted from the libretto by Henri Meilhac and Ludovic Halévy
Based on a novella by Prosper Mérimée

The Company

There’s a noble intent behind Phil Willmott’s Carmen 1808 that seeks to meld Bizet’s opera into a narrative inspired by Goya’s painting of Napoleon’s troops brutally firing on defenceless Spanish civilians during the Peninsular War of the early 19th century. 

Tinkering with greatness does, however, demand greatness from the tinkerer - and there is little that is great about this show. Bizet wrote his tunes for classical operatic voices and, aside from the sonorous charms of Alexander Barria (whose Royal Academy of Music training stands out a mile) as Goya sketching out the unfolding narrative, most of the other voices are lost in the Union’s un-mic’d melee. Rachel Lea-Gray in the title role puts in a fine shift but she’s found wanting in the Habanera.

In the right hands (and voices) opera’s classics can work spectacularly on the fringe but all too often in this show one is left with the distinct feeling that Willmott has done to Bizet’s melodies what Napoleon’s riflemen did to the helpless Spanish. There are occasional moments of redemption though as alongside Lea-Gray, Ellie Ann Lowe and Charlotte Haines put in solo turns that evidence their vocal skills.

Elsewhere there’s acting that at times is clichéd beyond belief - and quite why the French soldiers speak with stereotyped accents that are straight out of ‘Allo ‘Allo defies comprehension. Just be grateful that Willmott didn't have his Spaniards speak like Manuel, the Fawlty Towers waiter. 

This all plays out on an imaginative set from Justin Williams and Jonny Rust, while Teddy Clements puts in sterling work on the keyboard to accompany the cast. And for those folk seeking a snatch of Bizet’s “hit tunes” (Willmott’s words) there’s a pre-recorded backing track (that’s disgracefully un-credited in the programme) to support the cast in choreographer Adam Haigh's toe-tapping flamenco-esque finale . Now That’s What I Call Carmen.

Runs until 10th March

Photo credit: Scott Rylander