Tag: lyndsey turner

Posted on

The Little Foxes at the Young Vic – review

Anne-Marie Duff is chilling in 20th century classic

★★★★

A woman in a dress holding a cup faces a man in a suit with a paper under his arm, both are standing
Anne-Marie Duff & Mark Bonnar in The Little Foxes. Photo: Johan Persson

Like me, you probably see more acting on TV than in the theatre. That means I’m always interested to see whether a favourite actor can make that transition from screen to stage.  The Little Foxes at the Young Vic was packed with faces from British television. Mark Bonnar who you will have seen in Shetland and Guilt; Steffan Rhodri best known as Dave Coaches from Gavin & Stacey; Anna Madeley who is Mrs Hall in All Creatures Great And Small; and one certifiable star in Anne-Marie Duff most recently seen in Bad Sisters.

I have seen all these actors on stage before, but it is still a thrill to be reminded that, like so many other screen actors, they are often only giving us a glimpse of their skills when they’re in front of a camera. The real test of their acting ability comes when they are trapped in the time and space of a theatre show, communicating directly with a live audience. This cast passed the test with distinction. 
Lillian Hellman’s The Little Foxes was premiered in 1939 but this attack on capitalism focuses on a family of landowners from the American South around 1900. So, the first question you might ask is, why did Lillian Hellman, who was a communist by the way, set her play around 40 years in the past? I’m guessing it’s because 1939 was not the best time for an anti-capitalist message. America had just experienced successful state intervention in their free market system in the form of Roosevelt’s New Deal, so a mixed economy may have seemed more attractive than a communist one. More than that, communists, capitalists, rich and poor were in the process of uniting in a fight against fascism, or at least that was the perception. So it might have been easier to show unadulterated capitalism, raw in tooth and claw as it were, from a couple of generations earlier.
The first half introduces us to the Hubbard family. There are two brothers- Ben played by Mark Bonnar, cunning as a fox and arrogant as a peacock, initially strutting about the stage, nonchalantly shrugging off challenges. Ben boasts of the way his family, who were traders, took advantage of the Civil War to buy up property while the Southern grandees were being defeated, fighting for their principles. He is even proud of their exploitation of what he calls ‘coloured people’.
The other brother Oscar, a weak bully, is played by Steffan Rhodri with a rat-like blend of slyness and nerves. The lead character is their sister Regina played by Anne-Marie Duff. Her bravura performance dominates the evening, entrancing us with her hyperactive character, who is by turn charming, quivering with frustration or displaying a diamond hard will power that is genuinely chilling. Her sparkling eyes and wide smile are a mask that covers her amorality.
The brothers inherited their father’s money. When they have an investment opportunity that will make them a huge fortune, Regina is shocked and angry to find she has been left out of the spoils. She plots to get both her share and revenge, by using her ailing husband’s money to make up the additional investment her brothers need.
After a slow first half that establishes the characters and their situation, the play takes off like a SpaceX rocket, as these greedy siblings ruthlessly trick and use one another.  Regina becomes more ruthless than any of them in her ambition.
It’s a savage expose of people whose greed trounces love, loyalty and all other moral values. But, is it relevant today? I guess the answer to that partly depends on your politics, but the fact is, capitalism remains the dominant system, despite regulation and the welfare state. Add to which, we appear to be entering an era of less regulation, in America at least, and we have seen the privatisation of public services in the UK. So I suppose it is a good time to be reminded that however high the quality of service or product we receive from companies, their number one priority is profit, not people. 

Powerful performance from Anna Madeley

A mature woman in a dress looks down
Anna Madeley in The Little Foxes. Photo: Johan Persson

The play presents some alternatives. Oscar’s wife Birdie is from an aristocratic family. She represents the ‘old values’ based on patronage, duty and responsibility. She is an alcoholic, bullied by her husband, and ghosted into a lack of confidence. She may be brittle- she laughs nervously, she looks down, there’s fear in her eyes- but still expresses her beliefs. It’s a powerful performance from Anna Madeley, showing Birdie beaten down but still proud. The quality and depth of her acting won’t surprise you if you’ve seen her as Mrs Hall, giving much-needed weight to the cosiness of All Creatures Great and Small.

Regina’s husband and daughter show that behaving morally is an option. They are played by John Light and Eleanor Worthington-Cox, the latter subtly showing how her character grows in strength as events force her to choose between standing up for her beliefs or standing by watching. In fact, the play’s strongest message is that most of us stand by watching bad things happening and do nothing about it. In stark contrast, Oscar’s son, played by Stanley Morgan, is morally bankrupt, like his father.
The black servants show two different sides of the class that has been most exploited and abused by this family. Freddie MacBruce as Cal goes about his job without question, but Andrea Davy’s Addie is firm in her opinions and tenderly loyal to those who treat her well.
Quite a few reviewers criticised the design, suggesting that its mid 20th century look was not appropriate, and even confusing, when used in a play set in 1900. On the contrary, I think Lizzie Clachan’s design is a stroke of genius. First and foremost, it doesn’t distract. A turn of the century design could have made the story seem of a bygone age, irrelevant to today. On the other hand, modern day clothes would have been too anachronistic for a play that’s set over a hundred years ago and mentions horses and carriages.
Instead, Ms Clachan cleverly plumps for the neutrality of clothes of the time it was written. The dominant beige reinforces this.  The absence of the trappings of the life of the well-off suggests these are people who want wealth for its own sake. They aren’t even that interested in enjoying the luxuries that come with it.
It’s a damning picture of capitalism but I think it’s unfair to suggest, as some critics did, that it fails because the main character doesn’t evoke enough sympathy. I found that I had plenty of sympathy with her over the way she was treated and therefore cheered her on as she exacted revenge. But that sympathy only heightened the shock of seeing just how far she would go and what sacrifices she would make. Yes, she does become a monster but it seems possibly sexist to me to suggest that this portrait of a greedy capitalist woman can only can only be of interest if we have sympathy for her. I don’t think you have to sympathise with the murdering Macbeth to get involved in his character and story, or with the greedy Lehman Brothers to find them fascinating. I didn’t like Regina as a human being but it was gripping to see how far she would go and whether she would finally realise there is more to life than money.
Director Lyndsey Turner delivers a powerful interpretation and the excellent cast squeeze every ounce of drama out of it. Before the interval I was wondering whether it was ever going to take off but when it did it was riveting. And if you love watching great acting, this is one not to miss.

The Little Foxes is at the Young Vic until 8 February 2025. Buy tickets direct from the theatre

Paul paid for his ticket
Posted on

Coriolanus at the National Theatre – review

David Oyelowo gives towering performance

★★★

David Oyewolo in Coriolanus. Photo: Misan Harriman

David Oyelowo has been rarely seen on stage in the last twenty years, thanks to the lure of Hollywood.  I am pleased to report he does not disappoint. As for the production, this is a Tragedy of Coriolanus without the tragedy.

The problem with this particular Shakespeare play is that we never really get inside the head of the lead character. Unlike protagonists elsewhere in Shakespeare’s tragedies, he has no soliloquies. So we don’t understand and empathise with him in the way we do with, say, Hamlet or Macbeth.
He is a Roman soldier, but more than that he is a weapon, created by Rome’s military culture and specifically by his mother (the only human being he seems to care about). At the beginning, he establishes his military credentials in warfare. After that, it’s all about Rome trying to control this missile they have launched.
Actual physical fighting takes up a small but, in this production, memorable part of the play. Mostly we watch people talking about Coriolanus, trying to persuade him to be what he can’t be, which is to say someone who bites his tongue, compromises and flatters, and fatally underestimating him.
When he returns to Rome a hero, he seems an obvious candidate for a peacetime leader. The trouble is, he can’t hide his feelings of contempt for people and politics. Rome turns against him, then finds the missile pointed at them.
Coriolanus is up against the two great forces of Rome at that time, the plebeians and the patricians, and Shakespeare appears to have little time for either.  The former are a rabble who are easily swayed, the latter are self-serving: ‘the herdsmen of the beastly plebeians’.
Coriolanus at the National Theatre. Photo: Misan Harriman

On the face of it, Coriolanus is a simple soldier, a man of principle who refuses to play the political game and seeks revenge when betrayed. As in any tragedy, his actions lead to his downfall but we are uncertain whether they are a symptom of arrogance, pride, humility, or simply a soldier’s rigid ideas of right and wrong? Lindsey Turner‘s production doesn’t discount or endorse any of these possibilities, leaving us with his inability to empathise and his black-and-white view of the world.

David Oyelowo provides us with a Coriolanus full of power and subtle feelings. He is undoubtedly a man of action. No-one in a Shakespeare play can be said to be a man of few words, and certainly Coriolanus bestows sone of Shakespeare’s finest metaphors in on those who let him down. Still, by the Bard’s standards, he is positively tight-lipped. Mr Oyelowo speaks the poetry clearly and fluently but it’s through his face and body that he most  expresses his puzzlement and anger at what he encounters.
From the start, Mr Oyelowo conveys nobility- but he is a soldier first. As another soldier says: ‘Let me have war…it exceeds peace as far as day does night.’ He has a soldier’s bearing and bluntness.  He bares his ripped body more than once, which contributes to the sense that he is very much an alpha male in a world of betas.   In Rome during peacetime, he walks and sits awkwardly. He only seems comfortable when fighting. And the sword fight scenes are pretty exciting, as choreographed by Sam Lyon-Behan.
Whenever he leaves the stage, the temperature drops. None of the other characters emerge with much credit or force, although the actors do. Peter Forbes as Menenius, the wily politician trying to pour oil on troubled waters, is suitably patrician. Stephanie Street and Jordan Metcalfe as the devious populist tribunes Sicinius and Brutus are appropriately slimy. Kobna Holdbrook-Smith as Aufidius is also a successful soldier but, in contrast to his sworn enemy Coriolanus, he can play the political game. Pamela Novete as Coriolanus’s domineering mother has the right hectoring tone and, judging by the way she influences him into his fateful decisions, gives us another major clue to Coriolanus’s character. He respects, even fears her, but there’s no hint of love between them.
Lindsey Turner’s production brings out the contrast between the soldiers, who built and protect Rome, and the inhabitants who take for granted the benefits of peace that the army’s feats bring them. Her production begins with a video projection, designed by Ash J Woodward, where people are shown from high above scuttling around like ants.
Es Devlin provides an impressive set that continues this theme. It dominates the production and the people- maybe a little too much. The story may speak about war and democracy, heroes and the populace but it is told on a human scale. The huge set distracts from the humanity. On the other hand, when those massive marble blocks descend to create a feeling of the power and history of Rome, we get the sense that the current Romans, both the elite and the people, are like the ants we saw earlier.

There are many artefacts on tables which suggest a museum, perhaps indicating the past was once the present, that this story will soon be history, and that history constantly repeats itself. After all, we can see many examples today of populism and political ambition threatening democracy, and of people who would rather fight than compromise. This is underlined by the way the actors are in modern dress. There is a moment at the end that indicates fighters like Coriolanus will always be needed and always remembered.

A sense of hubris- that the character has brought his fate upon himself because of decisions he made deliberately- is essential to tragedy. In presenting Coriolanus as a soldier who has no interest in democracy or even other people, we lose any sense of him making a decision. In his mind there is no choice. At the Donmar a few tears ago, Tom Hiddleston made Coriolanus an arrogant aristocrat, which is one of many possible interpretations. The audience could see he’d brought his fate upon himself by choice. To me, that is why, despite David Oyewolo’s brilliant performance, this production is flat, a situation compounded by making the plebeians and the patriachs so pathetic that you wouldn’t blame Coriolanus even if had made a conscious decision to fight them.

With all the other characters reduced in stature in this production, the drama of conflict is diminished. No-one really tests him (except maybe his mother). It becomes very much about how Coriolanus is a misfit, and he’s a one trick pony, a single-minded soldier with no inner conflict.
It remains an interesting evening, but not I think one for the history books, despite an unforgettable performance from David Oyelowo.

Coriolanus can be seen at the National Theatre until 9 November 2024
Paul was given a review ticket by the theatre. 
Posted on

The Witches musical at the National Theatre – review

Daniel Rigby & Katherine Kingsley reach comedy heights in musical spectacular


★★★

Daniel Rigby and cast of The Witches. Photo: Marc Brenner

It’s hard not to compare the National Theatre’s The Witches with the

West End hit Matilda. Both originated as stories by Road Dahl, both have been turned into much-loved films before being transformed into musical spectaculars.

Good as this well-produced show is, The Witches never quite reaches the heights of its RSC rival. But it does offer an entertaining evening, especially if you want to take your older children to a theatrical show more inventive, and less cliched, than a pantomime.

National Theatre favourite Lucy Kirkwood has done a good job with the adaptation of Roald Dahl’s novel, although it does take a while to get going. It could have gained from being half an hour shorter than its current two-and-a-half hours plus interval.

Still, her lyrics, jointly credited with the composer Dave Malloy, are sharp and witty. The latter clearly knows his way round musicals and has written varied hummable tunes appropriate to the different situations.

The plot goes back to the original story, losing the happier ending of the 1990 film. To remind you, a child discovers that a group of witches is meeting in the hotel at which he’s staying and they are planning to turn every child into a mouse. With the aid of his Gran, he sets out to thwart them.

The cast of The Witches

Director Lyndsey Turner was previously at the National with a very different show about witches. Following the tense drama of The Crucible,  she shows she is also a champion of fast-moving musical comedy. Supported by set and costume designer Lizzie Clachan, Ms Turner takes full advantage of the large cast, and the Olivier revolve.

My only reservation about Ms Clachan’s contribution is the surround of dark thorns which provide a contrast to the brightly colourful sets and costumes (and fill in the enormous Olivier space) but seem like too heavy handed a reminder that the world is a dark place.

Spectacular routines

There’s a Broadway chorus style number Magnificent, which introduces Mr Stringer, a character much expanded from the novel and played by Daniel Rigby as a frantic Basil Fawlty-style hotel manager, obsequious to his rich guests and rude to the less well off.

By the time there is an outbreak of mice in the building, Mr Stringer becomes hysterical and leads possibly the stand-out routine of the show- Out! Out! Out! It’s a dizzying number in which he and his staff prance round the revolve going from room to room looking for mice, placating complaining guests along the way. Daniel Rigby‘s contortions of face and body combined with a strangulated voice surely make him the finest physical comedy actor currently on the London stage.

Katherine Kingsley and cast of The Witches. Photo: Marc Brenner

The Grand High Witch is a superb villain, and Katherine Kingsley extracts every drop of evil from her cauldron. She is imperiously haughty, she snarls at everyone including the audience, and sings an hilarious song Wouldn’t It Be Nice, about how marvellous it would be for parents if they didn’t have children dominating their lives.

Both Daniel Rigby and Katherine Kingsley are a gift wrapped in a bowto this musical. They take the foundations of words, music and situation, and build upon them until the comedy reaches summits of laughter.

The good adult, so to speak, is the boy’s cantankerous elderly gran, beautifully played for laughs and pathos by Sally Anne Triplett. She sings a gorgeous song with her grandson Luke called Heartbeat Duet.

Let’s go back to the comparison with Matilda. Where the earlier musical scores is that its child hero survives intact to the end whereas Luke is turned into a mouse halfway through. At that point, his character alternates between being a mechanical mouse and a  boy in a costume. I know we often need to use our imagination in theatre, but this particular concept failed to fire mine.

One other caveat. Although this is a family show, it is not for young children. It’s not only the complexities of the plot and the darkness of some of the events (Luke’s parents die early on), the language and length are too much for anyone under about ten years old.

Still, for the rest, children and adults alike, there’s plenty of spectacle and comedy in this musical

The Witches performed at the National Theatre’s Olivier Theatre until 27 January 2024.

Paul paid for his ticket.

Click here to watch the video of this review on the YouTube channel Theatre Reviews With Paul Seven

 

 

 

 

Posted on

The Crucible with Erin Doherty – National Theatre – review

★★★★

Erin Doherty in The Crucible at National Theatre London 2022
Erin Doherty in The Crucible at National Theatre London 2022
 

Back in 1953, when Arthur Miller wrote The Crucible, a play about the late 17th century witch trials in Salem Massachusetts, he no doubt had in mind a modern day witch hunt in which a US senator persecuted perceived communists, especially in Hollywood. But it could be about any time when authorities demonise others to consolidate their power.

It’s a compelling study in how the process of a witch hunt develops a momentum of its own and triggers vengeance, fear and even mass hysteria. Lyndsey Turner’s intense production is powerfully acted by Erin Doherty, Brendan Cowell and the rest of the cast.

In a small town run by the church, some misbehaving girls try to get off the hook by claiming to be possessed by the Devil. This gets out of hand as they take the opportunity to get their own back on some respectable and respected citizens by accusing them of being disciples of the devil who lead them on. A trial ensues. Adults confess to outlandish encounters with demons, more accusations fly, more adults confess in a form of mass hysteria, and the children too start to believe their own tales.

The girls are led by Abigail. It’s a bravura performance by Erin Doherty. You might know her best as an excellent Princess Anne in The Crown but she shows her full range as an actor here. Her character is clearly a rebel but also scheming. So, we see her wheedling, pleading, and, in a terrifying scene, inspiring the other girls into wild-eyed, uncontrolled shaking, as if possessed.

Authoritarian power is just one of the subjects explored in Arthur Miller’s complex play, but it’s the one from which all elsefrom which all else arises. As we enter the Olivier auditorium, we are confronted by pouring rain. Every scene begins with pouring rain. Torrents of water team onto the front of the stage. It seems this community is already suffering the punishment of a pitiless Old Testament God. We’re told the community is a theocracy. No separation in those days between church and state: the Church is in charge and there can be no challenge to its authority.

Photo: Johan Persson

The church leader Reverend Parris is confronted by children secretly rebelling against the church’s rules by secretly dancing, among other things. Some of the citizens believe this behaviour has been caused by the Devil in the form of witchcraft. The priest is skeptical but he knows support for him in the community is shaky, so he calls in a preacher with higher authority and a knowledge of witchcraft: the Reverend Hale. A major trial follows, headed by Deputy Governor Danforth, played with a steely eye and a stern jaw by Matthew Marsh. He has his own reasons for wanting to stamp his authority on the community.

At this point, it’s a case of ‘to a hammer everything is a nail’. It seems obvious that the children are dissembling but, as the excellent National Theatre programme points out, the authorities see what they believe rather than believing what they see. As the witch hunt goes to extremes in the heat of the ‘crucible’, both Parris and Hale, given passionate and nuanced performances by Nick Fletcher and Fisayo Akinade respectively, begin to see how one-sided the trial is. They realise good people are being dragged down and note that ‘every defence is seen as an attack on the court’.

Production photo from The Crucible at the National theatre London in 2022 showing Brendan Cowell
Brendan Cowell in The Crucible. Photo: Johan Persson

One man who speaks out against the trial is John Proctor whose wife is accused of witchcraft. It’s a thundering piece of acting from Brendan Cowell as a good but flawed man. In a heart-breaking sequence, he nobly tries to reason with the Court and is brought down by his own honesty and the challenge he poses to the Church’s teachings.

What else is going on? Oppression of women by the church. They are expected to be silent and obedient. As the girls are indoctrinated by tales of hellfire and damnation, they are primed for believing they have been taken over by unseen forces. And they have a readymade means of excusing themselves.

Fear, revenge and greed all play a part. People turn on each other to save themselves. The girls are only too quick to denounce the many adults they resent. Ruthless people take the opportunity to gain land from those found guilty of witchcraft. There’s a lot to think about and be shocked by in this intelligent, frightening play.

It’s easy to discern many parallels more modern than the McCarthyite witch hunt. We can see what goes in all totalitarian countries where a weak authority cannot be questioned: the actions of the morality police in Iran for example, or would-be authoritarians closer to home for whom an alternative point of view or a minor misdemeanour can ignite outrage on social media leading to death threats and cancellation.

Director Lyndsey Turner has created an fervid production, only marred by a tendency at times towards melodrama. One nice touch is that nearly all the characters point fingers as they argue, a metaphor made physical. The masterful set by Es Devlin is appropriately black-and-white except when we visit the Proctors’ warmer-coloured home. An opaque ceiling hangs over hhe entire stage. Through it filters a diffused flouredcrnt white light suggesting no one can hide from a pitiless regime.

Crucial to the production are Tim Lutkin’s lighting and the sound by Caroline Shaw, Tingying Dong and Paul Arditti. The cast are usually lit from the side creating a lchiaroscuro effect, again suggesting no middle ground. A stretched low note drones in the background, ratcheting up the tension.

The impressive cast also includes Sophia Brown, Karl Johnson, Eileen Walsh and Tilly Tremayne.

The Crucible was performed at the National Theatre 21 September – 5 November 2022, and will transfer with cast changes to the Gielgud theatre from 2 June to 7 September 2023

Paul was given a press ticket by the producer.

Click here to see the review on the One Minute Theatre Reviews YouTube channel

Proudly powered by WordPress
×