Ambika Mod and Lizzy Connolly in Porn Play. Photo: Helen Murray
Sophia Chetin-Leuner’s new play is about addiction. Unexpectedly the addiction in question is to violent pornography and the addict is a woman.
In case you’re thinking this is a little recherché for the subject of a play, we’re told almost straightaway that more women than men search for violent porn. Even so, she seems to be something of an outlier in the world of porn addicts, the clue being she’s the only woman at a porn addicts anonymous group. It may be about a niche subject, but the play presents a moving portrait of addiction and poses an intriguing question as to why a woman would become addicted to violent pornography.
If you’re easily shocked, this is one to avoid. Ambika Mod’s character Ani spends a significant chunk of the evening playing with herself. She also gives us enough vivid descriptions of what she watches to leave us in no doubt that we are talking about nasty stuff, even if she insists, in that addict’s self deceptive way, that it’s fake.
You might also want to avoid it if John Milton isn’t your thing. She’s an academic specialising in the great poet and we learn a lot about paradise, for which read sexual pleasure, and paradise lost, for which read the pain of grief. It may make you want to pick up a volume of his verse and look at it with new eyes, or not.
Ambika Mod is exceptionally good in this part, communicating desperate need, and the shame, fear and helplessness that go with it, all the while presenting a public façade of normality as she pursues her career as a university lecturer and academic. This actor has such an ability to communicate complex feelings that she is surely heading for the top.
Josie Rourke directs with precision.
Yimei Zhai’s set compliments the action superbly. We the audience are given shoe covers to wear before entering the auditorium. This is because the entire area is covered in soft pale carpet. The circular stage area and its softness may suggest a woman’s gentitalia but also, because of the whorls that take it down through a number of levels, it may signify a downward spiral. In a stroke of genius, the set is designed so the cast can reach between the joins in the fabric to retrieve props, such as a phone, a tablet or larger items like a pillow, much as you might look for a lost coin down the side of your settee, . This is wondrous in itself, but it mainly reinforces the idea that Ani’s addiction is hidden.
Not that it stays hidden for long. She takes out her phone or laptop at every opportunity to masturbate while looking at porn. This could be when someone leaves the room for a moment, or even when they are asleep in the same bed. Those close to her- her boyfriend, her best friend, her father all realise she has a serious problem. Soon her life starts to fall apart. Her exasperated boyfriend leaves her, her job is in jeopardy.
Will Close portrays with sensitivity the boyfriend’s struggle between love and disgust. He also gives us other examples of masculinity in the course of the play: a male porn addict’s macho mansplaining, a young student’s rampant hormones.
The arc of Ani’s addiction is depicted well. She maintains the violence is not really that shocking because it’s ‘fake’, but after trying it for herself she acknowledges that her enjoyment is in watching the women get hurt. She is, after Milton, a ‘brutal woman’. Eventually she reaches a point where she knows she needs to stop. Her addiction seems sad for much of the play. However, when she reaches the end of the road, sitting at one corner of the stage stroking herself robotically while the one person who cares enough to help her is in the opposite corner, it is heartbreaking.
Someone commented on The Fifth Step, another play about addiction, that while the subject is no laughing matter, it can be very funny. Sophia Chetin-Leuner seems to take this view. A couple of scenes spring to mind. Because of her continual rubbing, she has made herself sore and succumbed to an infection. She visits a gynecologist, played by Lizzy Connolly who cloaks her in that brisk matter-of-fact indifference, not even looking at Ani, that many patients will be familiar with.
Ambika Mod & Asif Khan in Porn Play. Photo: Helen Murray
During an event at which she is to receive her award for her book on Milton, Ani is approached by an old man who thinks she’s a waiter simply because she’s a young woman. Women are not expected to win top academic awards any more than they’re expected to be as sexually active as men. The old man is played by Asif Khan, who also gives an exquisitely gentle performance as Ani’s father.
In her mind, people begin to say sexual things to her. A woman seems to say to her: ‘I don’t know how you do it, spend all your time giving head’ which is then corrected as ‘in the head of that vile old man Milton.’ Milton crops up frequently when Ani addresses the audience. She talks about his poems at length, that he identified the way good and evil live in parallel, and pleasure masks pain. This does perhaps explain how her addiction arises from grief. And how Eve, the first woman, is a rebel against the patriarchy but also submissive to it. But it does start to feel like a lecture.
There are other moments when it seems the author has not entirely relevant axes to grind. For example, there’s a scene between Ani and one of her students, another fine creation from Lucy Connolly. To an extent it illustrates the gap between millennials and Gen Z. The ‘woke’ student has been triggered by Ani talking about a rape scene in one of Milton’s poems. Ani representing an older generation (that of the author) is tolerant of different times and wants to study a great poet warts and all. The younger generation has no tolerance and wants to cancel Milton. ‘Why would you want to read him and analyse all these horrible men?’ She asks. It’s a bit of a cliché and doesn’t really add to the story.
Porn Play tries to cram too much in but it is a play well worth seeing for its moving, insightful portrait of the effect of easily available pornography on 21st century sex and relationships.
Mia Carragher in The Hunger Games. Photo by Johan Persson
The Hunger Games is a stage version of the first film in the series of the same name. It has a stellar creative team, with Conor McPherson (The Weir, Girl From The North Country) doing the adaptation, Matthew Dunster directing and Miriam Buether designing. Many reviewers felt the nuances of the story were lost in the large scale spectacle, although some didn’t care about that. The critics didn’t actually agree on how spectacular the show was. Some were dazzled, others found it fell short of their expectations. Mia Carragher as the lead impressed with her action hero prowess.
[Links to full reviews are included but a number are behind paywalls and therefore may not be accessible]
4 stars ⭑⭑⭑⭑
Holly O’Mahony in The Stage was a fan of the spectacle: ‘there’s plenty here to impress fans of the franchise, and the space is used in its entirety. Set pieces rise up from beneath the arena-like stage, and props are lowered from above. Ian Dickinson’s sound design sends the flutter of birds’ wings around the auditorium, bringing us closer to the action; Kev McCurdy’s fight direction orchestrates gasp-worthy duels; and Chris Fisher’s illusions send arrows flying into the bullseye of their targets.’
3 stars ⭑⭑⭑
Cindy Marcolina at BroadwayWorld declared: ‘The actors are tireless athletes, the theatre is an imposing arena, and the stagecraft is often remarkable. Unfortunately, it’s also a soulless incarnation (…) If you expect to be wowed to the edge of your seat, the technical aspects will do that. If you look for emotional depth and the same thematic inquiry as the source material, you might be disappointed.’
For Alex Wood at WhatsOnStage, it was ‘a show that often feels caught between two impulses: thoughtful character study and full-throttle spectacle, and never really satisfyingly landing either.’ He concluded: ‘It has just enough theatrical invention to justify its existence beyond the films, while Carragher’s debut is a genuine highlight.’
Time Out‘s Andrzej Lukowski took a different view of the choice of lead: ‘It’s hardly hack work. And it very nearly clicks – just a stronger lead away from triumph.’ He explained that ‘Mia Carragher is certainly up to the considerable physical demands of playing Katniss (…) But she’s somewhat light on the ol’ charisma and she talks in a breathy Marilyn Monroe-style accent that is odd bordering on distracting.’ He didn’t think it worked to have her as ‘both protagonist and narrator. It’s true that there’s a lot to explain. But in such an action-heavy format, having the lead character constantly offering background on what’s going on really undermines the sense of her living in a dangerous moment.’
The Mail‘s Patrick Marmion decided it wasn’t as good as the film: ‘Martial arts, modern dance, and hand-to-hand combat are what drive the pageant, heightened by strobe lighting and nasty white noise. Sadly for the producers, the practicalities of live performance can’t touch the roller-coaster ride of the film.’
Over at The Independent Alice Saville disagreed: ‘There are wince-inducing fight scenes, eyebrow-singeing bursts of fire, and dazzling bits of stage trickery. Its tensest moments plunge the audience right into this dangerous world’. Her beef is with McPherson’s adaptation: ‘he makes too much of Katniss and her sister’s pretty dresses, and not enough of their raging sense of injustice.’
The Guardian‘s Arifa Akbar found: ‘you don’t feel the dread in Conor McPherson’s adaptation, which seems clipped by the pace of events, all spectacle above emotion.’ She noted: ‘John Malkovich, appearing on screen as President Snow, goes his own way a little more, not as lugubriously contemptuous as Donald Sutherland in the film, more blank-eyed and Spock-like. But he remains as flat as his 2D image, more a cameo than a character.’
2 stars ⭑⭑
Claire Allfree for the Telegraph called it a ‘depressingly bad adaptation’. She continued: ‘Dunster’s production feels thuddingly perfunctory. Save for a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it moment of suspended action in the rafters, startlingly little use is made of the hangar-like proportions of the Troubadour auditorium (which was purpose-built for this show).’ Her parting shot was: ‘we are left with a mediocre half-way house, neither theatrically coherent nor, alas, a patch on the far superior films.’
The i’s Fiona Mountford ‘found this unexcitingly staged spectacle an underwhelming trudge.’ She was disappointed by the lack of spectacle: ‘With this sort of setting, an audience understandably expects bells-and-whistles excitement; as it is, the friend who came with me commented that, “It looks like they’re running around a school gym”.’
For Marianka Swain at LondonTheatre, it was ‘a damp squib’. She said: ‘Matthew Dunster’s production never really finds a unique and coherent theatrical language for The Hunger Games. It’s a hodge-podge of ideas, including limited video, songs, aerial stunts, and unconvincing stylised dance.’
‘This dystopia could surely do with a little more pizzazz,’ began The Times’ Clive Davis. ‘The in-the-round arena, designed by Miriam Buether, looks impressive when you take your seat, but once the action starts you soon discover that Dunster and his team struggle to fill it with enough spectacle to justify the steep prices.’ He found: ‘Mia Carragher … is an energetic central presence as Katniss Everdeen (…) But the fact that she’s required to narrate much of the story while sprinting here and there is a distinct flaw in a script by the playwright Conor McPherson, which plods through the tale as told in the first film’.
Critics’ Average Rating 2.7⭑
Value rating 34 (Value rating is the Average Critic Rating divided by the typical ticket price.)
Toby Jones, Caitlin FitzGerald & David Harewood in Othello. Photo: Brinkhoff/Moegenburg
The new production of Othello at the Theatre Royal Haymarket is the finest I have seen—and I have seen a few. Director Tom Morris has achieved this triumph by keeping the production straightforward and by casting David Harewood at precisely the right point in his distinguished career to inhabit the title role completely. Added to that are two further superb performances from Toby Jones and Caitlin FitzGerald, plus an additional standout who doesn’t receive above-the-line billing.
If you’re not familiar with the plot, then please stop reading now, because I’m going to assume you know that it’s about a man who is tricked by a cynical liar into believing his wife has cuckolded him and prompting him to murder her.
You can tell from that crude summary, Othello is a at heart a domestic tragedy. Of all the lead characters in Shakespeare’s tragedies, Othello is the least grand. He’s not a King or even a noble, By comparison with Macbeth, Lear or Mark Anthony, he is strikingly ordinary. What makes him stand out is that he’s successful in his career, and an outsider. For audiences, he is very easy to identify with, as he falls victim to someone determined to wreck his life. The play is also Shakespeare’s most plot- as opposed to character- driven tragedy, and presented with such clarity (there’s no subplot) that it is inevitable an audience will be gripped and carried along.
Director Tom Morris understands this and, to his credit, has not imposed any show off interpretation. He trusts Shakespeare’s language to carry the drama, and in the hands of his exceptional cast, it does.
The background is military. Othello is a soldier who has won great victories for Venice. He knows his worth yet still wrestles with a form of impostor syndrome, aware that his race renders him inferior in the eyes of many and that his high standing derives only from his battlefield prowess. His secret marriage to a white woman from patrician Venetian society underscores his fear that the union will be condemned. His insecurity makes him wonder whether it was merely his storytelling that enchanted Desdemona into marrying an ageing black man. It’s a part bursting with contradictions.
Into these polished shoes steps David Harewood, perfect for the part. Wearing a beautiful silky green suit (Shakespeare later refers to jealousy as a ‘green-eyed monster’), he is elegant, poised, and physically imposing. He radiates authority and speaks lyrical lines beautifully and lucidly. But we can also see straightaway why the rigidity of a military man and the lack of confidence of an outsider set him up for his downfall at the hands of Iago.
Toby Jones and David Harewood in Othello. Photo: Brinkhoff/Moegenburg
Toby Jones has the task of creating a rounded picture of someone whose history we learn remarkably little about, despite him having more lines than Othello, and indeed more lines than any character in Shakespeare except Hamlet and Richard The Third. He does it brilliantly.
Iago is perceived to be an ‘honest’ soldier. The word occurs over 50 times in the play, as Shakespeare piles on the irony, thus giving the audience something to laugh about in an otherwise serious drama. The important thing is, he is trusted by Othello as a good ‘honest’ soldier.
Toby Jones deploys his familiar genial countenance when addressing others, then swivels toward the audience with a face hardened and eyes glacial.
All the cast are superb
He is aggrieved that he has been passed over for promotion. Othello has appointed Michael Cassio as second-in-command, He seeks vengeance for the slight. Spotting Othello’s vulnerability—Desdemona—he devises a plan to humiliate him. That Othello is so easily convinced his wife is having an affair is, in context, quite plausible: they married in haste and in secret. So, how well does he truly know her? Her enraged father, played with distinction by Peter Guinness, warns him early on, ‘She has deceived her father, and may thee.’ Iago then improvises his way through a thrilling campaign of insinuation, his plot evolving with each new contingency, something Toby Jones conveys with wonderful darting eyes.
Even if you did still have any doubt that Othello would fall for this villain’s machinations, you have only to recall Celebrity Traitors to see how difficult people find it to detect deception, and how trusting they are of appearances. Not that I’m comparing Alan Carr with Iago. More generally, we all know how hard it is to differentiate between truth and falsehood in the mouths of con artists.
Jealousy pervades the play, as does a corrosive sense of inferiority. Both Othello and Iago are driven by these impulses, Jones’s Iago, despite the chip on his shoulder, remains implacably steely, while Harewood’s Othello disintegrates visibly. His once-perfect outfit becomes dishevelled; his tongue which initially roamed nervously around the inside of his mouth, now flicks out of the corner; he spits out words that previously he would have modulated. A tragic flaw has enabled a villain to bring him down, but, once he accepts the supposed evidence of Desdemona’s betrayal, the military tactician resurfaces, coldly orchestrating her destruction.
As for Desdemona: I was initially sceptical about casting an older actor. The text seems to suggest she is young and disingenuous—initially she is seen as having been ‘stolen’ by Othello, and later she is naively oblivious to Othello’s changing temperament. But Caitlin FitzGerald, a mature performer, illuminates the role in unexpected ways. She conveys the giddy rapture of early love while also interacting with Othello on equal footing, asserting herself in their arguments with a modern feminist inflection.
Othello at Theatre Royal Haymarket. Photo: Brinkhoff/Moegenburg
Similarly, Emilia — wife to Iago and maid to Desdemona — receives a powerful push from Vinette Robinson. Though nearly as cynical as her husband, Emilia possesses a moral core he lacks. In this production, she seems to speak for all women as she voices her views on men and on the catastrophe unfolding around her with bruising, heart-breaking passion.
Other parts are deftly realised: Luke Treadaway is a sensitive Cassio, not at all arrogant as he is often portrayed; Tom Byrne as Roderigo is the perfect fool as Iago’s dupe.
Although the dress is modern, Ti Green‘s set is neutral. Gilded geometric structures evoke the opulence of a Venetian palace before reconfiguring into corridors, chambers, and shadowed streets. Nothing distracts from the momentum of the drama. Even PJ Harvey’s atmospheric music—almost continuous—never competes with the action.
In this production, Toby Jones’ portrayal of evil personified remains the driving force, but it is David Harewood’s subtle, flawed Othello who takes centre stage.
Toby Jones, Caitlin FitzGeraqld & David Harewood in Othello. Photo: Brinkhoff/Moegenburg
David Harewood is back on stage as Othello 30 years after he became the National Theatre’s first Black Othello. The critics liked his dignified general and most enjoyed Toby Jones‘ devious Iago tricking him into killing his wife. Caitlin FitzGerald is an unusually mature Desdemona and all the better for it, thought the critics. Despite the modern setting, critics found Tom Morris’ production safe and traditional, which may have disappointed them but probably comes as a relief to those theatregoers wary of experimental productions.
[Links to full reviews are included but a number are behind paywalls and therefore may not be accessible]
4 stars ⭑⭑⭑⭑
Fiona Mountford at the i was enthusiastic: ‘There are no fussy tricks or overbearing directorial conceits at work here; instead, the key notes of Tom Morris’s production are clarity and confidence. Purists will be relieved and delighted, whereas everyone else will be glad to be reminded in a highly compelling fashion of what an intimate, domestic tragedy Othello is.’ She has something positive to say about all ghe main actors and ends: ‘For once, the now inevitable standing ovation come the curtain call is entirely earned.’
The Mail’s Patrick Marmion loved David Harewood’s acting : ‘Coasting about in a crisp cream uniform with crimson epaulettes, he is sweet, subtle and tender, but – fatally – also gullible and easily led.’ He concluded: ‘Great as the acting often is on Ti Green’s gracefully metamorphic set, the play endures as a queasy, morally dubious melodrama.’
The Telegraph‘s Dominic Cavendish liked all three stars. He declared David Harewood ‘A great, under-sung Shakespearean, he summons a martial authority and dignity that’s registered in much of the verse.’ He thought Toby Jones ‘exudes a rumpled, bloke-next-door affability, punctured by gleeful nastiness’. And ‘Caitlin Fitzgerald’s terrific, finally terrified Desdemona, combining innocence with independent-mindedness, stands her ground too.’ He cautioned: ‘The acting makes the evening, then, and Morris need only trust it more. We don’t require intrusive lighting rigs in the final scenes, or imposing projected images, or eccentric costuming. When the core cast is as strong as this, less is more; the sparer the better.’
3 stars ⭑⭑⭑
Even if she had reservations about the production, The Guardian‘s Arifa Akbar stated upfront: ‘Harewood’s Othello holds your attention with his physical presence and imperial quality, the sniffs, smirks and tics in the lead up to his murderously wounded rage.’ In fact she liked all the main actors: Toby Jones ‘fights his battle for domination with a shining relish that borders on the comically conniving’ and ‘Caitlin FitzGerald, as Desdemona, is a smooth blend of strength and fearfulness’. However: ‘This is every bit a “West End Othello” that is ravishing to look at, immaculately choreographed and darkly humorous. It is pacy and does not probe deeply or seek to connect the play’s manipulations with our era of Trumpian truths and lies’.
Having praised David Harewood’s ‘gravitas and initially, the lucky-me geniality of someone lately fortunate in love’ and Toby Jones’ ‘layered, loathsome, inveigling Iago ‘, The Standard‘s Nick Curtis asks: ‘Why then does the whole thing feel so humdrum and inert?’ His answer: ‘There’s a lack of dynamism and propulsion to the direction. There’s also an uncertainty of tone: the endless assertions of Iago’s honesty come across as absurd rather than ironic (…) There’s a lot of laborious signposting (…) there’s a sense of slapdash carelessness’.
For The Independent‘s Alice Saville, David Harewood’s Othello has ‘a self-contained, confident energy’ although she found a ‘certain chemistry’ between him and Caitlin FitzGerald’s Desdemona missing. As for Iago: ‘Jones is completely convincing without channelling the inner darkness you’d expect from this destructive force. Instead, an excellent Vinette Robinson becomes the emotional heart of the play as Desdemona’s maid Emilia.’ She liked the way ‘Tom Morris’s production grows into its horror, building into a deeply nasty tale of murder and manipulation’ but thought ‘This staging could do with more moments of lyricism and menace, to capture the insidious nature of the evil that patterns through it. Instead, it feels like an entertaining but ultimately unpersuasive take on Shakespeare’s story of an arch manipulator. ‘
Holly O’Mahony at LondonTheatre commented: ‘The women are also pleasingly rounded, and in the month where Vogue has declared it officially embarrassing to have a boyfriend, hearing Caitlin FitzGerald’s earthy, serene Desdemona and Vinette Robinson’s fiery truthsayer Emilia bemoan the male-female dynamic with views akin to what we now call heterofatalism feels thrillingly before its time.’ Complimenting David Harewood and Jones, she said: ‘this Shakespearean tragedy is in good hands, and if it’s not a revelatory production, it’s certainly a slick one, with each interaction fine-tuned and deftly choreographed – especially the violence.’ She was impressed by the set: ‘It plays out on Ti Green’s opulent set of golden geometrics, where open doorways could also be mirrors, challenging these characters to see themselves and others in the frame clearly.’
Time Out‘s Andrzej Lukowski foundt Tom Morris’ direction ‘a lighter-than-usual take on the play. Not out-and-out hilarious, but with a glossiness that speaks of a desire to go easy on a West End audience.’ He described David Harewood’s Othello as ‘a precise, confident, seemingly unflappable man who shows little sign of jealousy or doubt for a long time. But his extreme rationalism proves his downfall: once Toby Jones’s Iago presents ‘proof’ of Othello’s wife Desdemona (Caitlin FitzGerald) being unfaithful’. Furthermore, ‘Jones is a thoroughly entertaining Iago, who tackles Shakespeare’s elegant verse with a coarse vigour that helps explain why the other characters like him so much: he comes across as plainspoken, down to earth, and funny (…) Also good is FitzGerald as Desdemona. The character is usually young and often drippy, but here she’s a self-confident middle-aged woman’.
Aliya Al-Hassan at BroadwayWorld thought the production ‘looks impressive, is well acted, thoughtful and glossy, but lacking in sufficient darkness.’
2 stars ⭑⭑
WhatsOnStage‘s Sarah Crompton found it ‘a curiously old-fashioned and superficial version of a play that cries out for a powerful vision. A disappointment.’ She also baulked at the stars’ performances: ‘Its principal problem is that all its stars seem to be starring in a different version of Shakespeare’s play. Harewood is a tragic hero, a dignified warrior undone by his own vulnerability; Toby Jones, as his nemesis Iago, seems to be playing a stock Medieval villain, all surface evil. And Caitlin Fitzgerald as Othello’s wife Desdemona is American. Every side of this doomed triangle feels as if it is pulling in a different direction.’ She noted:’The advance publicity has suggested that Morris’s intention was to play Othello both as a love story and as a thriller, yet in the end, it is not suspenseful or engaging enough to be either.’
Critics’ average rating: 3.1⭑
Value rating 32[Value Rating is a combination of Critics’ average rating and typical ticket price]
Nicola Walker in The Unbelievers. Photo: Brinkhoff/Moegenburg
A boy vanishes without a trace just before his sixteenth birthday. His mother, Miriam, played by Nicola Walker, is devastated. We witness her and her family’s unravelling in the days immediately after his disappearance, one year later, and then seven years later. It’s a harrowing experience for them — but does it make for compelling theatre?
The point of the play is also the problem with it. While the boy’s two siblings and his father gradually attempt to reconcile themselves to his absence, Miriam refuses to accept that her son will not return. The timeline jumps back and forth, as if to show that she never changes, that time has stood still. The family find it increasingly difficult to coexist with her, despite their evident compassion. Their struggle stems partly from her obsessive focus on her missing son and partly from her perpetual anger. Unfortunately, this unchanging emotional state eventually alienates us as well, or alienated me at least.
Nick Payne’s play examines what happens when someone is psychologically unable to move beyond trauma. It’s a fascinating concept in theory, yet as drama, it can feel repetitive — despite the best efforts of the superb director Marianne Elliott, who injects pace and passion into the production.
Nicola Walker delivers an intense and characteristically nuanced performance, complete with her familiar tics and stutters, and emotional authenticity. However, and I hate to say this, after a while her sarcastic giggling at others’ perceived absurdities and repeatedly saying people should go fuck themselves become somewhat wearisome. Convincing as she is, it becomes difficult to remain emotionally invested.
The supporting characters remain sketchily drawn, defined mainly by their reactions to Miriam. Paul Higgins, as the husband, spends much of his time shouting. Alby Baldwin, portraying the elder sibling, grieves in silence. Miriam’s ex-husband, a priest played by Martin Marquez, flounders helplessly. Only the younger daughter (Lucy Thackeray) develops — she finds a partner, becomes pregnant, and tries hardest to reconnect with her mother. “I just want my mum back,” she pleads poignantly.
The Unbelievers at The Royal Court. Photo: Brinkhoff-Moegenburg
Walker is on stage almost continuously, while other actors, when not in a scene, sit silently in a dimly lit upstage area. Ordinarily, performers would exit, allowing the illusion that their lives continue offstage. Here, however, the visible ‘waiting room’ seems to symbolise how, for Miriam, her missing son Oscar remains ever-present, whereas everyone else is out of sight out of mind. Defending her attitude, she says that if any of them had disappeared, she wouldn’t give up on them either, but ironically she has. The spare set, designed by Bunny Christie, effectively mirrors Miriam’s single-minded preoccupation.
We glimpse Miriam’s experience over the course of the seven years: the early dealings with the police, subsequent false sightings and internet trolls, and the desperation of spiritualism and prayer. These should-be heart-wrenching moments but they failed to resonate with me, because I never felt sufficiently connected to the characters.
Because there is no story arc, no character development, and no resolution (we never know how or why Oscar disappeared, or whether he is alive or dead), I found the journey a little monotonous and felt deflated rather than emotionally drained by the end. On the other hand, it was interesting and unexpectedly humorous. And, as always, Nicola Walker delivered good value.
In JM Barrie’s original play was called Peter Pan, the subsequent novel was Peter and Wendy, so the decision to call the latest iteration of the story Wendy and Peter Pan is not without significance, as the critics noted. This Royal Shakespeare Company production is written by Ella Hickson and was first staged in 2014. Despite it being a traditional seasonal treat, this outing at The Barbican closes before Christmas.
[Links to full reviews are included but a number are behind paywalls and therefore may not be accessible]
Four stars ★★★★
The Standard’s Nick Curtis informed is: ‘It features a nimble Daniel Krikler as a feral, sybaritic Peter Pan, Hannah Saxby as a physically gung-ho, jolly-super Wendy Darling, and Toby Stephens as a winningly louche Captain Hook. The design, the effects and the vibe are all spot-on.’ He also told us: ‘Colin Richmond’s sets, including a full pirate frigate, are a detailed delight and the choreography, combat and aerial scenes are beautifully done. On balance, magic.’
Julia Rank at LondonTheatre said: ‘this is a gorgeous spectacle and real “total theatre” experience sprinkled with plenty of fairy dust to delight every member of the family.’
Lucinda Everett for WhatsOnStage enjoyed the way ‘Hickson’s script is stuffed with laughs, and Jonathan Munby’s exuberant direction ramps up the fun. Young audience members will love the physical comedy, toilet humour, and Joe Hewetson’s perfectly useless pirate.’
Calling it ‘a splendid treat’, The Telegraph’s Dominic Cavendish explained that the adaptation ‘puts a feminist emphasis on Wendy’s struggle for independence amid the lost boys of Neverland, while also reflecting the brevity and fragility of life itself.’
Welcoming a feminist version of the story, at BroadwayWorld went on: ‘Hickson’s script is light and witty, with deeper tinges of loss, love and liberation that all children – young and old – can relate to. And of course, there’s all the added fun of pirates, fairies and a ticking crocodile’. She found it ‘flies along at an exhilarating pace,’
Three stars ★★★
Holly O’Mahony in The Stage noted: ‘there’s plenty of charm to this revival, which is sure to delight young audiences, in particular, with its fiery explosions and liberal sprinklings of glittering fairy dust.’
Time Out’s Andrzej Lukowski gave us some highlights: ‘even if the play can’t help but compulsively spell out its points, there’s still fun to be had along the way. The fight scenes are great and the actors inhabiting the Lost Boys enjoyably spoof childishly mangled versions of masculinity. Daniel Krikler impresses as Peter, a tangle of loose-limbed bluster. Meanwhile, as Captain Hook (and Mr Darling), Toby Stephens eats most of the scenery before the crocodile gets round to eating him.’
The Independent’s Alice Saville described it as ‘a fascinating, feminist riff on a classic – albeit one that’s more suited to misty-eyed adults than actual kids.’
Is it drama or panto? Helen Hawkins at The Arts Desk got mixed messages: ‘the whole needs to be turned down from 11 and the comic scenes tightened up. The mixed tone isn’t helped by Shuhei Kamimura’s rather standard-issue music, which signals a kind of dramatic portentousness that isn’t on the stage. This is not a production graced with sentiment, though a dash of it would be welcome.’
The Sunday Times’ Dominic Maxwell felt it didn’t live up to its promise: ‘the show can feel like a jumble of good ideas, partly because, on a set that never entirely leaves the playroom, Neverland remains a notional place rather than somewhere fully specific and vivid. Hannah Saxby’s Wendy is lively and likeable but not quite as outright fascinating as the script wants her to be. Shuhei Kamimura’s recorded soundtrack is more filmic than theatrical.’
Two stars ★★
The Guardian’s Arifa Akbar found it all a bit much: ‘It should all arrest the senses but seems like a cheap sugar-rush of spectacle that does not hit the spot. Actors rush around, often shouting or screeching their lines so that they really do seem like adults playing at being children too energetically.’
Critics’ average rating 3.4★
Value Rating 42 [Value Rating is a combination of Critics’ average rating and typical ticket price]
The Line of Beauty at The Almeida Theatre. Photo: Johan Persson
Alan Hollinghurst‘s novel won the Booker Prize and now Jack Holden has adapted it for the stage. Let’s turn to The Stage for a plot summary: ‘it charts an agile odyssey from 1983 to 1987 through sex and love, financial and political chicanery, class division and the AIDS crisis.’ The critics liked Michael Grandage‘s restrained direction and Holden’s fidelity to the story, but on the whole they were not engaged by the production.
[Links to full reviews are included but a number are behind paywalls and therefore may not be accessible]
Four stars ★★★★
Alex Wood at WhatsOnStage said: ‘Rather than reimagining Hollinghurst’s novel, Holden translates it for the stage with precision, capturing its wit, sensuality and quiet melancholy. The result feels less like a radical reinterpretation and more like a refined condensation: a world of dinner parties, desire, denial and drug-sniffing brought vividly to life within Grandage’s clear, uncluttered production, with design by Christopher Oram.’
For such a positive rating, The Telegraph‘s Dominic Cavendish is surprisingly restrained: ‘(Jack Holden’s) adaptation is straightforwardly episodic, its instinct faithful but restrained. Without the interiority the novel brings and the wider context he could add, he’s scratching the surface, both of the characters and the era.’ He concluded: ‘Assisted by nostalgia-stirring pop sounds, here’s another bittersweet evocation of a momentous decade that cast a long shadow. It’s just a shame there’s not a bit more dramatic meat to chew on.’
Alice Saville of The Independent commented: ‘Grandage’s deliciously witty production is so good at delineating the subtle class tensions of this world: the gaffes, the blunders, the ways in which outsiders are tolerated – provided they know their place.’ She cautioned: ‘Holden’s take here is subtly moralistic, giving Nick a clear choice between humble true love and the false blandishments of wealth. What it’s missing, perhaps, is time and space to explore his agony as he’s crushed by the wagon he hitched himself to. But it’s still a wild, witty ride, powered by slow-burning anger at a political elite that’s updated its shoulderpads – but not its values.’
The Standard‘s Nick Curtis declared: ‘this is a hugely entertaining skim across the shiny surface of 80s Britain, and a return to form for Grandage (…) (Jasper) Talbot, (Charles) Edwards, (Claudia) Harrison and (Francesca) Amedwudah-Rivers stand out from a fine ensemble.’
Three stars ★★★
The Guardian‘s Arifa Akbar called it ‘a warning for our age of rising intolerance, and an adaptation well worth seeing’. She picked out certain aspects: ‘Michael Grandage brings fantastic directorial polish and pace and the cast are excellent, from Alistair Nwachukwu as Nick’s wryly funny, working-class boyfriend Leo, to Arty Froushan as the uber-rich Wani, who is engaged to a woman but in a secret relationship with Nick.’ She had reservations: ‘what a lot of story, and feelings, to fit in’ which meant ‘we do not really enter into these relationships fully.’
The Stage‘s Sam Marlowe wasn’t fully on board: ‘The smooth-running intricacy of the piece and its dislikeable denizens mean we experience it at arm’s length. But it’s unarguably adroit and accomplished.’
Andrzej Lukowksi’s review in TimeOut seems more enthusiastic than some of the four star ones: ‘it does a tremendous job of cutting Hollinghurst’s period odyssey into a gripping, flab-free two-and-a-half hours of theatre. It is, above all, a great piece of storytelling.’ He expects it to transfer to the West End where ‘it would stand as a smart, sympathetic take on a somewhat daring choice of novel for commercial theatre. At the edgier Almeida it feels exquisite, but MOR.’
Two stars ★★
The Times’ Clive Davis was unimpressed: ‘It’s not just the music that goes thud, thud, thud (…) Jack Holden’s adaptation, stripped of the languorous, Henry James-ish embellishments, turns into a lumbering string of scenes from a high-society soap’ and ‘the production is alternately gauche and garish’ and ‘it’s undercut by some oddly uneven performances’ and ‘The dialogue … is closer to the drawing room clichés of a rainy Sunday afternoon at Downton Abbey.’
Kip Williams’ comedy about superficial lives is full of depth
Donmar Warehouse
⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑
The Maids at The Donmar. Photo: Marc Brenner
Jean Genet’s 1947 play about class jealousy and working class revenge has been reimagined by Kip Williams as a biting satire on social media and influencers. Reviews ranged from 5 stars to 1 star (My roundup is here). The more critical called it ‘superficial’ and ‘exhausting’. I couldn’t disagree more. If you think nothing happens in Waiting For Godot or in plays by Pinter, then fair enough, this may not be for you. For me, it was a searing exposure of the human condition told with acerbic wit and incisive insight.
For a start, let’s not confuse depicting the performative superficiality of our curated age, with actually being superficial. This production, directed as well as written by Kip Williams, is in the tradition of Theatre of Cruelty and Theatre of Absurdity which Genet was part of. Theatre of Cruelty is intended to break down our distancing intellectual approach to art and jolt us viscerally with the nastiness of human existence. Theatre of the Absurd does as it says on the tin, and is a response to the meaninglessness of existence. These are movements that were born out of the inhumanity of the first and second world wars. It may be that these forms of theatre are less effective today. Perhaps for younger people, human existence doesn’t seem so nasty or absurd, or is simply a given.
The existence we are talking about here is that of two maids, who are also sisters, repeatedly playing a game in which one is their mistress and the other, one of the maids. The ‘servant’ is so verbally and physically abused by the ‘mistress’, that they fantasise about killing her. They are clearly psychologically unhinged.
Both speak in a high speed, declaratory way using the language of a generation brought up on socials. I cannot understate the achievement of Lydia Wilson and Phia Saban in spewing out the words with such pace and venom. The dialogue given to them by Kip Williams is musical, poetic and very funny. I think I need to emphasise that latter adjective, because, on the night I saw The Maids, the audience for the most part received it in silence, and those of us who did laugh were sometimes subjected to puzzled looks. So maybe I am an outlier in my reaction.
Their mistress is a media influencer on matters of beauty and fashion, with 28 million followers. When she finally appears, gloriously played by Yerin Ha, she is a spoilt rich girl, but not the abuser she was made out to be. She is undeniably entitled but it is more the assumption of superiority that makes her obnoxious, and darkly humorous for it. Her conversation is littered with the words ‘literally’ and ‘actually’. She is a drama queen but it’s hard to think she deserves to die.
The thing is, the maids may talk about killing their mistress but they don’t really want to end the dominance of what we may see as fake imagery and the malign influence of social media. They are totally obsessed by it. They may want to destroy their mistress’s career but they aspire to live her life. They use their mistress’s makeup and wear her clothes. They use apps on their phones to create fake images of themselves. These are images we see on screens at the back, which, I repeat, are crazily funny. The existential futility we observe is a metaphor for the absurdity of all human life- ‘a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury signifying nothing’, as an earlier playwright described it.
Disquieting eroticism
The Maids at The Donmar. Photo: Marc Brenner
Genet wanted his play to be a comment on the ‘class struggle’ and this version be seen as an allegory of the exploitation of the poor by the rich and the struggle of the working class to overthrow their oppressors. But it seems that the sisters are really using their rituals to abuse each other. Their criticism of each other’s characters may speak to the way the political left tears itself apart, rather than really attacking their rulers. At times, this interplay is charged with a disquieting eroticism.
There is also a swipe at religion, more obvious perhaps when the play was written. Genet was inspired by the repeated rituals of the church which serve to reinforce the believers’ common faith and their superiority over non believers. So the sisters are in a world of their own, existing in the echo chambers of social media.
A word about the set designed by Rosanna Vize. We begin with the action taking place behind a gauze. So, we are encouraged to see the sisters as in a separate world from us, muted and mediated,. Then the curtain is pulled back to reveal dazzlingly vivid hues, packed with big blooming peonies and other flowers, bathed in eyeball-searing light. Suddenly, their world is alive and overwhelming.
In the story, such as it is, the maids have faked evidence against their mistress’s lover, and he’s now in jail. This is ostensibly to destroy her reputation, which they, for self deceptive reasons, believe will benefit them. Their plan falls apart when the lover is released on bail and their conspiracy looks like being exposed. The only way out seems to be to kill their mistress for real. As the play reaches its climax, the sisters retreat further into their digital fantasy, until it becomes entirely real to them. I don’t want to say more about that but it is very well done and ends literally, and I mean ‘literally’, with a denouement.
Rather than dismissing as superficial the fantasy world of unattainable beauty and imaginary murder, the play seems to suggest it may be a valid way of coping with the futility and nastiness of life. A way that may be more fun, if less heroic, than being two tramps ever hopeful that Godot will turn up.
Visceral version of murderous maids divides the critics
Donmar Warehouse
The Maids at The Donmar. Photo: Marc Brenner
Kip Williams, the writer/director who had a huge success last year with his adaptation of The Picture of Dorian Gray, has turned his attention to Jean Genet’s 1947 classic The Maids. Williams’ familiar use of screens is again prominent in this visceral version of the story of two maids who plot to murder their mistress. The screens project the social media conscious women’s digital images as they act out their fantasies and plot against their employer. The frantic pace elicited a full range of reactions in the reviews from 1 to 5 stars. Whether you find the production ‘conveys the corrupt value systems and ludicrous hierarchies of much of 21st-century culture’ or ‘has nothing new or interesting to say’ may depend on your taste.
[Links to full reviews are included but a number are behind paywalls and therefore may not be accessible]
Five stars ⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑
The Stage’s Sam Marlowe, one of the least generous critics when it comes to handing out stars, loved it: ‘Williams’ experiential production conveys the corrupt value systems and ludicrous hierarchies of much of 21st-century culture with visceral force: it crushes nuance beneath Bottega Veneta heels and assaults our eyes with fake spectacle. It’s draining, it’s overwhelming, it’s kind of gross – and it’s brilliant.’
Four stars ⭑⭑⭑⭑
The Guardian’s Arifa Akbar complimented Kip Williams’ take on Genet’s original work, saying he ‘gives a modern meaning to the play through the technology itself: influencer image-making and online celebrity culture are critiqued. The analogy is obvious, once it is introduced, and ingenious (….) The slippages into fantasy, for all three women, are into a curated online space of augmented reality and performance.’ She praised the cast: ‘There are storming performances, especially from Saban and Wilson, and a hurtling dread as the projections become wilder, the set seeming to disassemble as their inner worlds crack apart.’
Calling it a ‘wild ride’, The Standard’s Nick Curtis Williams said ‘Williams draws powerful and intricately precise performances from a magnetic Lydia Wilson and relative newcomers Phia Saban and Yerin Ha.’
Cheryl Markosky for BroadwayWorld described it as ‘a hugely strong play with a moving denouement where no one escapes from a spiral of love and hate in a fantasy social media world.’ She also described the ‘terrific set design by Rosanna Vize’: ‘luxurious white wall-to-wall carpeted bedroom stuffed with ostentatious flowers and tall wardrobe doors with mirrors and shiny surfaces’.
Three stars ⭑⭑⭑
Time Out’s Andrzej Lukowski found: ‘For a good half an hour there’s something totally hypnotic about the blur of wild visuals and undigested, darkly comic loathing that pours out of the women’s mouths. It’s exhilarating, hilarious, horrifying stuff. But the trouble is it doesn’t really have anywhere to go.’ He noted: ‘A tonal gearshift in the middle would have really done so much for it. But I still think you should see it. The cast is great, especially Wilson. And did I mention it looks incredible?’
Alex Wood for WhatsOnStage found: ‘The production is, without doubt, a feast of bells and whistles – technically immaculate, visually audacious, and conceptually dense – but that polish sometimes comes at the expense of intimacy (…) Bells and whistles are all well and good – but sometimes they just add to the noise.’
Olivia Rook at LondonTheatre said: ‘Williams leans heavily on hilariously grotesque Snapchat filters and live streaming through Zakk Hein’s video design, cleverly implicating the superficial world of social media in the unravelling of maids Solange and Claire. They crave visibility, but are repeatedly denied any form of independent identity’. Like other critics, she observed that Kip Williams’ version of Genet’s play ‘is still grasping to find something more than its surface-level spectacle.’
The Times’ Clive Davis declared: ‘The set is the winner in this manic update’ but asked: ‘does all this frippery — the vibrant visuals leave you feeling as if you’ve been locked in a cupboard with Paris Hilton and Katie Price — make the play, which has been baffling audiences since 1947, any more comprehensible?’ Apparently not.
2 stars ⭑⭑
The Independent’s Alice Saville complained: ‘it feels like spending one hour and forty minutes eavesdropping on private conversations that are so trivial you wish you hadn’t bothered. Like a smartphone filter, it creates a pretty picture – but seeing the uglier realities underneath would have been more interesting.’
Claire Allfree for the Telegraph didn’t like what she heard: ‘The dialogue is a relentless hyperactive stream of toxic, quasi-ironic OMG-style hyperbole.’ Nor what she saw: ‘Williams’s faintly misogynistic production may playfully gesture towards a nightmarish, narcissistic online future in which women are eaten alive by their own trout pouts, but it fundamentally resembles a mirror of itself – a two-dimensional onslaught of eye-rolling vacuity.’ Her final message was: ‘Genet’s play is hard to like at the best of times. In Williams’s version, it’s borderline unwatchable.’
1 star ⭑
The Express’ Stefan Kyriazis had a terrible evening: ‘For 100 interminable minutes that felt far, far longer, three actors on stage screamed at each other, at full speed, non-stop, barely taking a breath. It’s exhausting.’ He continued: ‘It has nothing new or interesting to say and treats the important social and mental health issues it raises with as little respect as it treats us’. His final message: ‘Avoid at all costs.’
Nicola Walker in The Unbelievers. Photo: Brinkoff-Moegenburg
Perhaps most famous for Constellations, Nick Payne returns to the Royal Court for his latest play. The Unbelievers concerns the aftermath of the disappearance of a 15 year old boy, and is told in a series of flashbacks that some critics found confusing. In fact, not many reviews had a good word for this exploration of the devastating effect on the mother. Although Royal Court has pulled together a starry creative team, with Marianne Elliot directing and Bunny Christie designing the set, for most critics the show was saved by an exceptional performance from Nicola Walker.
[Links to full reviews are included but a number are behind paywalls and therefore may not be accessible]
Four stars ⭑⭑⭑⭑
The Sunday Times’ Dominic Maxwell acknowledged some might find it ‘monotonous’ but declared: ‘I’m slightly obsessed now with this new play about trauma, grief, family and obsession. And I can’t imagine anyone making it more vivid than Nicola Walker does here. It’s a joy to spend time in her unrelaxed company.’
Time Out‘s Andrjez Lukowksi was bowled over by Nicola Walker, claiming this as her best stage performance yet: ‘its star gives a turn that is absolutely, magnificently, unfettered Nicola Walker. Her unique gift for proper nuanced acting filtered via an unshakeable deadpan grumpiness is harnessed to perfection as she plays a grieving mother whose sorrow and grief at the unexplained disappearance of her son has curdled into something darker and more disturbing.’ He had this insight into the play: ‘the out-of-order scenes feel like a sort of random anthology of grief for a while. But for my money they do eventually coalesce into something wonderful. (….) What happens (at the end) totally wrongfoots you, but it’s beautifully written and the point at which I realised this was really a play about human faith and the fundamentally unknowable nature of the world.’
Fiona Mountford in The i found much to like. She said Nicola Walker gave a ‘performance of blistering potency’. She described how ‘this family’s excruciating limbo-like state of non-grief is anything but a straight line; every social interaction down the years has an inescapably hollow sense of people small-talking over the immeasurable chasm of loss.’ She even liked the comedy which others were uncomfortable with: ‘Payne allows shards of dark humour to leaven the gloom’. And the set? ‘One half is the family living room, bleached of all colour and individuality in this new landscape of loss, while the other is a waiting area in which the actors sit slumped, a tableau vivant of isolation and despair, when they do not feature in a scene.’
Three Stars ⭑⭑⭑
‘It’s an intermittently engrossing, well-acted and slickly staged look at loss, grief and how closure is impossible without answers,’ wrote Alun Hood at WhatsOnStage, ‘However, in presenting the inexplicable and unfathomable, Payne’s writing and Marianne Elliott’s production tend to be as elliptical and inconclusive as the subject matter (….) it’s never less than watchable and when it’s good, it’s very, very good, although seldom does it seem to have the complete measure of its complex, emotionally-charged subject matter.’
The Stage‘s Sam Marlowe compared The Unbelievers with Nick Payne’s earlier Constellations: ‘this is a far more sprawling work, lacking the elegance and concision of its predecessor. The writing also, despite an astute and sensitive production from Marianne Elliott, has an air of contrivance.’ She liked the acting for being ‘raw and committed’, including ‘Walker, clenched, aridly funny, furious and utterly desolate, is fiercely compelling.’
Like others, Nick Curtis of The Standard was grateful for the performance of the lead actor, saying: ‘An astonishing performance of rage and grief from Nicola Walker is at the core of Nick Payne’s play’. As for the script, he declared: ‘This is a sincere, empathetic and surprisingly funny work … but it’s also relentless and lacking in tonal variety.’ He ended: ‘Payne’s determination to leave Oscar’s disappearance unresolved, observing the way it works and worms its way through the family over time, is a bold one. But it also gives this play a relentlessness that manufactured moments of comedy or awkwardness don’t fully defray.’
Holly O’Mahony for LondonTheatre focussed on the star: ‘Though the play is uneven as a whole (…) Nicola Walker delivers an astonishing, raw portrayal of a mother navigating a terrible sea of complex emotions (….) this is very much Walker’s show, and her performance alone is worth the ticket price.’ She described the set: ‘Bunny Christie’s set visualises the endless empty hours of waiting with a police reception room in view behind the main strip of stage – a sparse, abstract portrayal of the family home.’
The Telegraph‘s Dominic Cavendish thought: ‘Payne’s tricksy chronology, shuttling across the years, means that vital dramatic depth goes missing in action.’ He noted: ‘even allowing for too many incidental details and moments of humour, there’s too indistinct a sense of the boy himself, his personality, his mates. Real-life cases of this ilk can break your heart. Despite the bravura lead performance, I was left unmoved.’
Two stars ⭑⭑
The Guardian‘s Arifa Akbar was unimpressed: ‘There are strong stand-alone moments but something feels off, with a flatness of tone and an injection of ridiculous comedy that chips away at the family tragedy, shrivelling its effect.’ She praised Nicola Walker and Paul Higgins but ‘as a whole, the emotional range of performances seems limited, maybe hemmed in by the jumping structure.’
Although he found Nicola Walker ‘thoroughly persuasive’, The Times’ Clive Davis decided that ‘by playing with the chronology…Payne makes it hard to share in the anguish of Miriam’s family…we’re left in a sort of limbo.’ He continued: ‘the production, icily directed by Marianne Elliott, often strikes a jarringly comic note’
If you’ve seen The Unbelievers, please leave a comment, review and/or rating below
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