Ralph Fiennes as Macbeth – review

Ralph Fiennes and Indira Varma offer a glimpse of greatness


★★★★

Indira Varma holds Ralph Fiennes in a scene from Macbeth touring theatre production February 2024
Ralph Fiennes & Indira Varma in Macbeth. Photo: Marc Brenner

Ralph Fiennes wanted to take this production of Shakespeare’s Macbeth away from the traditional theatrical venues and audiences, so it has popped up in a warehouse-like hall in London’s Docklands. Apart from the possibility of attracting a new audience, there are other advantages to a venue like Dock X.

For a start, Frankie Bradshaw can begin her fabulous set design before you even enter the auditorium, by making the lobby or antechamber an immersive scene that conjures the aftermath of a battle. There’s a burning car, rubble and patrolling soldiers, as you might have seen on news reports from Gaza or Ukraine.
This is important because, although this production by Simon Godwin, constantly reminds you that you are in a war zone, the set itself, once you are inside the auditorium is a plain stage rising via wide stairs to a mezzanine, emphasising the domestic situations in which the play largely takes place, rather than battlefields.
The temporary seating is on three sides which adds an appropriate intimacy. I must say, though, I would rather sit in an actual theatre any day than this shed, into which well over a thousand people were crammed with apparently no consideration given to the torture caused by minuscule legroom and cheap plastic seats.
Anyway, enough of the venue, what about the show? Macbeth is one of Shakespeare’s greatest tragedies, surpassed only, in my opinion, by King Lear. Its supremacy derives from its complexity: the constant psychological battles between good and evil, duty and ambition, fate and free will, truth and lies, and so on. I go to every production hoping it will shed light on the play’s depths, and guide us through the states of mind of Macbeth and Lady Macbeth, as they make their bloody decisions.
In this production, we are constantly reminded that we are in a war torn country, and, as the cast are in modern dress, that it could be one of today’s many conflicts. There has been a rebellion and an invasion, and Macbeth has played an important part in the King’s victory over the opposition.
The sound of artillery is frequent and loud. But does that explain the Macbeths’ ambition? I don’t think so. If anything, the reminder of today’s awful fighting is a distraction, because it is unnecessarily upsetting. I saw this show on the day of the 2nd anniversary of Russia’s invasion of Ukraine. Someone who was sitting near me and had experience of that war, didn’t return for the second half, apparently because they found it too traumatic.
The background of conflict seems to me irrelevant to a play primarily about the consequences of overthrowing a legitimate government (even if it’s one with which you disagree) and such themes as whether the end can justify the means, and how one evil act leads to another.
Perhaps this is a good point to run over the plot, if you’re unfamiliar with Macbeth. The Scottish lord and soldier meets three Weird Sisters, or Witches, who predict that he will become King. He’s quite excited by this prospect but seems prepared to let it happen naturally until his wife persuades him to take the opportunity to kill the monarch while he’s staying with them. The weird women also predict that his friend Banquo’s heirs will become Kings, so he decides to kill Banquo. MacDuff joins the English in opposition to him, so he puts out a contract on the MacDuff family. All very Putin. In the end, he suffers the consequences of his actions.
Actor Ralph Fiennes stands holding a knife in a scene from Macbeth touring production February 2024
Ralph Fiennes in Macbeth. Photo: Matt Humphrey

So, what do Ralph Fiennes and Indira Varma as the murderous couple tell us about the ‘why’ of all this? Both actors bring out the richness of their roles. We first meet Mr Fiennes’ Macbeth as he lumbers onto the stage. He talks like a blunt soldier. He’s slightly stooped, he looks tired, as if he is exhausted rather than exhilarated by his victories. Maybe this explains why he’s not in a hurry to embark on another round of killing and thinks he might leave his succession to the throne to ‘chance’.

His wife on the other hand, bright eyed, articulate, and sophisticated in dress and manner, can’t wait. Ms Varma is clipped and matter-of-fact as she pushes him toward the deed. It’s then we get the first of many speeches in which Shakespeare expresses Macbeth’s internal arguments, sometimes to others, sometimes to himself. At first, his objections seem to be to do with etiquette: he is the King’s subject, obliged to be against assassination; that he is his host, who should be providing protection.
Ralph Fiennes is magnificent at these moments. He rightly acknowledges the speeches for the powerful poetry they are, and almost stepping out of the body of the plain soldier, to address the audience and explain his thinking. He articulates the lines beautifully, yet sounds as if he’s just thought of them, and he conveys their meaning with clarity. It’s an absolute pleasure to hear Shakespeare’s poetry projected to the back of the auditorium without any apparent strain. And I know because I was in the back row.
Indira Varma’ injects a moment of black comedy when Lady Macbeth loudly castigates her shaken husband for bringing the bloody knives out of Duncan’s bed chamber.
There’s a lot in the play about being a ‘man’, not a weak ‘woman’. Having initially seemed emasculated by his wife, Ralph Fiennes’ Macbeth becomes almost giddy following his killing spree, laughing and dancing nervously between appearances of Banquo’s ghost in the middle of a dinner party. It’s a funny moment but Indira Varma’s eyes show Lady Macbeth’s concern that her husband is becoming unhinged and uncoupled from her.
Guilt affects them both in different ways, Lady Macbeth cannot escape the thought of the horror of the crime they have committed and is driven to madness and suicide. The scene in which she tries to wash invisible blood from her hands was chilling. In fact, Indira Varma almost stole the show, except…
Ralph Fiennes as Macbeth, having begun the play hunched and exhausted, becomes more and more frenetically alive, and more reckless, even as he perceives the futility of life: the ‘tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow’ speech, the last great examination of the consequences of his actions, is spoken to perfection, with the final conclusion that life ‘is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing’, hanging in the air like a warning to us all.
The adaptation by Emily Burns makes the play move along at a pace, as it should, although she has excised the drunken Porter scene. I know a lot of people will be pleased to lose what they say is an incongruous piece of bawdy comedy in the midst of the murder of the King, but I think it offers a relief from the tension and a kind of parody of the chief villain’s antithetical way of expressing himself. I know you’ll want an example. So, a typical Macbeth declamation goes: ‘I should against his murderer shut the door, not bear the knife myself.’ The Porter uses the same form to say: ‘Drink provokes the desire, but it takes away the performance.’
I did like the way the Weird Sisters permeated the play. I find the supernatural nature of the Witches a difficult element of Macbeth, even though they are essential to driving the plot but here, in everyday clothes and played by Lucy Mangan, Danielle Fiamanya and Lola Shalam, they come across as ordinary young women, maybe even displaced citizens, whose looks of mischief suggest they are passing on their predictions to expose and undermine those in charge.
I’d also pick out the performances of Steffan Rhodri who gives the loyal Banquo, solidity and a skeptical eye, and Ben Turner as MacDuff whose heartbroken reaction to the murder of his family was palpable.

So, for me, a slightly disappointing production, and a terrible venue, but a glimpse of greatness in the performances of Ralph Fiennes and Indira Varma.

Macbeth toured the UK and performed in Washington DC in 2024

Click here to watch this review on YouTube

Retrograde- review

Must-see new play by Ryan Calais Cameron with rising star Ivanno Jeremiah

★★★★★

Ivanno Jeremiah standing hands in pockets in the Kiln Theatre production of Retrograde by Ryan Calais Cameron
Ivanno Jeremiah in Retrograde. Photo: Marc Brenner

Retrograde, receiving its premiere at the Kiln Theatre in Kilburn London, is a tense, passionate play about racism and censorship, featuring a dynamite performance from rising star Ivanno Jeremiah. It is written by Ryan Calais Cameron, who recently achieved a West End hit with For Black Boys Who Have Considered Suicide When The Hue Gets Too Heavy. Thank goodness his new play has a shorter title!

Set in 1955, Retrograde describes Sidney Poitier’s early days in the film industry when he came up against racism and the so-called Hollywood blacklist which aimed to ‘cancel’, as we might say today, anyone with so-called anti-American views.

Sidney Poitier was a fabulous actor at a time when segregation was still legal and black performers were largely playing servants. We find him on the verge of getting a leading role. His experience could be that of anyone finds their career threatened because they want to exercise their right to free speech, or indeed anyone who has been asked to compromise their integrity for the sake of a job.

How, as an actor, do you play one of the greatest actors of all time, especially one with the added value of charisma? The challenge for Ivanno Jeremiah is made even greater because the play begins with a young writer Bobby and a long-established Hollywood lawyer Mr Parks discussing Sidney Poitier’s great qualities, thus building up the anticipation. Add to which, Mr Jeremiah looks nothing like Mr Poitier.
It doesn’t matter. He makes us believe he is Sidney Poitier. When he enters, there is the kind of still centre, the confidence, the relaxed style, the impeccable American English that he learnt to disguise his Caribbean accent, all of which were such a part of Poitier’s appeal. When he’s on the stage it’s hard to look anywhere else, excellent as the other two actors are. 
This is a play about the racist treatment he received, the torment of having to make a decision between his principles and fame and fortune in the film industry. As it becomes clear to Sidney that he isn’t there simply to sign a contract that recognises his talent, Mr Jeremiah’s startled eyes and slumping body portray confusion, nervousness, vulnerability, and even panic. It’s a monumental performance that marks Ivanno Jeremiah out as one of the great actors of his generation.
But even the greatest actors need words put in their mouths. Writer Ryan Calais Cameron has intentionally evoked those great scripts from the golden age of Hollywood. The play sparks with fast rhythmic exchanges, verbal dexterity and passion.
There is also a great deal of humour, lots of it bouncing around Mr Parks, although this tails off as the seriousness of the situation grows. When Bobby asks Mr Parks: ‘What do you think of me, be honest’, Parks replies: ‘I never think of you’. Here’s another Parksism: ‘If your phone doesn’t ring, it’s me.’ My favourite funny line was said about him: ‘Your ass must be pretty jealous of your mouth with all the shit that’s coming out if it.’
Mr Cameron builds the tension as if stretching a rubber band until you feel it must break.  If there is a fault in the play, it would only be that it is prolonged a little too much at the end, as we wait for Sidney’s decision, although this is redeemed by a couple of powerful polemic speeches from him.
There is also a conflict between the other characters, who represent two kinds of white people of that time- and probably modern times. Bobby is a writer and Sidney’s close friend. Played by Ian Bonar, he represents the white liberal who believes in equality and is anti-racism, but hasn’t himself been the victim of racism.  His early statement ‘I’d jump a bullet for that guy’ proves wanting when tested against threats from Daniel Lapaine’s frightening Mr Parks.
He’s there to oversee Sidney’s signing of the contract to play the lead role in Bobby’s TV movie. But he wants more. The studios, and as it turns out other powerful forces, want Sidney, as a tame black star. So he is required to sign an oath of loyalty to the United States and to denounce Paul Robeson, at that the highest profile black actor and an activist in anti-racism and pro-communism campaigns.
To give you some context, at this time many Americans were frightened of both communism and of the rise to power of black people. Hollywood had become the focus of these fears and many actors, writers and directors were blacklisted. This meant they were prevented from working, because they were communists, or simply insisted on their right not to talk.
And if it seems incredible to us today that this could happen in the USA, a country in which the first amendment to the constitution protects freedom of speech, and in which being a member of the communist party wasn’t actually illegal, I suppose we ought to ask how many people today, and maybe still black people in particular, are being careful about what they say for fear of offending the left or the right or some other powerful group and thereby not getting work in the creative industries. I may be wrong but I imagine the play is called Retrograde because Mr Cameron thinks we’re taking steps backward at the moment.
Mr Parks represents fascism, with its denial of facts, its bullying, its call to patriotism and its identification of those that disagree as enemies of the state. Mr Cameron makes little attempt at subtlety but that doesn’t stop Mr Parks’ words and his shark-like smile sending a chill down your spine.
Set depicting a 1950s office with three actors in Retrograde at the Kiln Theatre
Ivannop Jeremiah, Ian Bonar and Daniel Lapaine in Retrograde. Photo: Marc Brenner

Director Amit Sharma does a great job at maintaining the tension through what is one real-time 90-minute scene. I am guessing that Mr Sharma is responsible for the way clothes and furniture play an important part in the production. All three men wear hats, jackets and ties, as was the fashion then, although Sidney’s clothes are much brighter than the others’ plain suits. Early on, Mr Parks bullies Sidney into taking off his tie, thus establishing superiority over him, just as he forces whisky on him. At various points, the level of tenseness is reflected by hats and jackets being taken off or put on.

The set is a naturalistic, convincingly 1950s office, designed by Frankie Bradshaw, whose imaginative versality and eye for detail have been responsible for Blues For An Alabama Sky at the National, her award-winning Donmar and West End production of Sweat, and Kiss Me Kate in the cramped confines of The Watermill. The creation of two areas, one of comfortable chairs, the other a desk and more formal seats, allows for continuous movement around the stage. Placing the rectangular platform on which the set is built at an angle to the stage floor, adds to the taut situation.
To sum up: an unforgettable performance by Ivanno Jeremiah in an electrifying play by Ryan Calais Cameron. It thoroughly deserves a West End transfer.
Finally , a quick word about The Kiln. I’d never been there before, not even when it was called the Tricycle. It’s a theatre for the local community in Kilburn, and what a lucky community they are, because it has been the launch pad for many new plays, including, in its early days, Return To The Forbidden Planet, and more recently Moira Buffini’s Handbagged and Florian Zeller’s The Father.  You can easily get to it via the Jubilee tube line and it’s a welcoming, comfortable place to see a show.
Retrograde can be seen at the Kiln until 27 May  2023.
Paul paid for his ticket 

Sweat at The Gielgud – review

Sweat- an important visceral play by Lynn Nottage.

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There is so much I could say about this play but I want to concentrate on the central story which concerns the deindustrialisation that happened in the US in the early 21st century. It’s something we in the UK are only too familiar with.  Our government, like many others, moved the economy away from manufacturing, letting those jobs go to China, Mexico and other developing countries where labour was cheap.

Production shot of Leanne Best, Martha Plimpton and Clare Perkins in the Donmar production of Sweat at the Gielgud Theatre
Leanne Best, Martha Plimpton and Clare Perkins in Sweat. Photo: Johan Persson

In Sweat the action takes place in 2000 in Reading, Pennsylvania and is based on true events surrounding factory closures. Lynn Nottage has created complex believable characters and we see at first hand their sense of ­betrayal,  loss and anger. They feel betrayed because generations had worked at the factory and displayed what they saw as loyalty. They lose their way of life and their sense of worth.

In a succession of scenes, the main characters meet up in a bar that looks as industrial as a factory. In particular we meet two good friends Tracey and Cynthia. At first all is well but we can see the seeds of what will happen. Unlike Tracey and her son Jason (Patrick Gibson) who see working on the line as their lives, Cynthia and her boy Chris (Osy Ikhile) aspire to get away from the grind of the factory floor. Chris plans to go to college, Cynthia would like to move into management.

Both women apply for a supervisor vacancy, Tracey just for the hell of it but Cynthia because she really wants it.  When the more suitable Cynthia gets it, Tracey who’s white puts it about that Cynthia only got the job because she’s black- in other words, because of positive discrimination. Racism, it seems, is just waiting below the surface like sewer beneath a road. When the factory threatens jobs, the division between old friends just gets worse as does prejudice against any ethnic minority.

Martha Plimpton in Sweat. Photo: Johan Persson

Tracey is repulsive. She’s undoubtedly the life and soul of the party but she’s also ignorant and blindly prejudiced. And very aggressive- Mike Tyson would hesitate to pick a fight with her. It’s a layered character brilliantly conveyed by Martha Plimpton. You are appalled by her but you know enough about her to recognise her as a fellow human and to realise her biggest problem is a lack of education, which leads to her inability to see the bigger picture, and her failure to see that her interest lies in unity not division.

Clare Perkins in Sweat. Photo: Johan Persson

When we go forward eight years, we see the long lasting devastating effects of job loss on individuals when a whole community becomes poor. Frankie Bradshaw’s set now represents the isolation of homes rather than the community of the bar. Clare Perkins breaks your heart as Cynthia who dreamed of improving her life and ends up used, abused and struggling to survive.

There is a shocking act of violence involving Jason and Chris that stems from the threatened factory closure. Perhaps Jason was always likely to resort to violence when under pressure but it is easy to see what happens as a metaphor for the blows against the establishment struck by working class people voting for Trump or Brexit.

Lynette Linton‘s direction is tight and the characters express themselves as physically as they do verbally. While the production might not be as visceral as it must have been in the cockpit of its original venue The Donmar, Sweat remains a harrowing, important experience. It brings home the shocking reality of the effect of deindustrialisation on people and communities.  It also gives us an insight into why we are seeing such a rise in racism and populism.

Sweat can be seen at the Gielgud Theatre until 20 July 2019. Click here for information and tickets

Click here to watch watch the review on YouTube

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