Sandy Pritchard-Gordon

Sandy Pritchard-Gordon
Theatre Blog

Thursday 19 December 2013

Coriolanus at The Donmar


At first glance staging Shakespeare’s final tragedy in such a small, intimate space as The Donmar is something of an anomaly.  However, digging deeper, one discovers that he possibly wrote Coriolanus for the Blackfriars Playhouse, a space which was around the same size.

Josie Rourke capitalizes on the Donmar’s intimacy by the clever use of ladders, a graffiti splattered wall, chairs and firebombs and the simple staging enables us to fully concentrate on the proceedings.  Immersion in what is happening a few feet away from us is total. The chairs come into their own during the battle-scenes at Corioli, which I imagine in a lesser production could be very confusing.  Add to this, the clarity with which each and every actor delivers their lines and this is Shakespeare at his best.  Quite a lot has been written about the Volscians using very strong North Country accents, but for me, who was seeing Coriolanus for the first time, it’s a godsend.  No confusion here on who is playing a Roman or a Volscian;  it is crystal clear from the start.

Tom Hiddleston makes a thoroughly believable, multifaceted Coriolanus. He starts out a brave, but arrogant military hero, contemptuous of the rioters and ends up literally hoisted by his own petard due to his stubborn intransigence.  But there is also a deep tenderness, love and aching sadness shown to devastating effect when his mother, wife and son persuade him to spare Rome.  His realization that this turn around will cost him dear is heartbreaking to watch, as are the final few moments when we witness his death.

There is so much to recommend this latest Donmar offering, not least the scene where Coriolanus, blood soaked from battle, stands beneath a shower centre stage.  The pain when the water hits is wounds is palpable, as is his isolation. 

It seems wrong somehow to single out some performances and not others, as there is no weak link whatsoever, but the stand-outs are Deborah Findlay as Volumnia (Coriolanus’s domineering mother) and Mark Gatiss as the cunning patrician Menenius.  Deborah Findlay gives such a well rounded performance.  When we first meet her, she rather comically brags to Coriolanus’s wife, Virgilia, a very good Birgitte Hjort Sorensen of Borgen fame, about her son’s wounds, leaving us in no doubt that she has played no small a part in his warrior-like stance.  Then towards the end she becomes a terrifying figure, intent in brow beating Coriolanus into doing a u-turn. 

Also worth a special mention is the smirking, self-satisfied Elliott Levey as the male tribune member, Brutus and Hadley Fraser’s “is he properly gay or not” Aufidius, the commander of the Volscian army. 

The costumes, a mixture of modern and period, work well, the music and sound likewise, so all in all, the Donmar is back up to speed and I’ll be booking my cinema ticket in order to see the NT Live broadcast on January 30th.

Thursday 12 December 2013

The Duck House at The Vaudeville



The Duck House, which has now transferred to The Vaudeville, is a new play by Colin Swash and Dan Patterson, who have been responsible for such tv classics as Have I Got News For You, Whose Line Is it Anyway and Mock the Week, amongst others.  This, their first foray together into writing for the stage, centres around the MP’s expenses scandal of 2009 and takes its name from such an object which one MP actually bought with taxpayer’s money.

Robert Houston, wonderfully played by Ben Miller, is a Labour backbencher about to defect to the Tories, much to the delight of his posh wife (Nancy Carroll) who is thrilled that “at last they can stop pretending”.  The trouble is, a slight problem has arisen in that the expenses scandal has erupted, Mr, Houston is expecting a visit from Tory grandee Sir Normal Cavendish (Simon Shepherd) which will hopefully cement his transfer and he subsequently needs to hide numerous illicitly claimed for purchases, including a sparkly loo seat, massage chair, hanging baskets, manure and a rather splendid, yes you’ve guessed it, Duck House.  One of the funniest moments in the play is the result of the decision by their Russian housekeeper (Debbie Chazen) to pass the Duck House off to Sir Norman as a Russian dolls house.  A brilliant idea in principal, except that the ducks are still fully ensconced within and show their presence vocally and physically when the odd duck egg gently rolls out of the dear little front door.  Ben Miller thereby spends the majority of the play in a guilty panic, either desperately trying to persuade Sir Norman that his wife, Felicity, is the expert secretary – futile exercise seeing as how her way of bringing something up on the screen is to wave the computer mouse around like a tv remote control, or the improbability of his son, Seb (James Musgrave) also working for him.

Cue, Act Two, which, despite a promising start, quickly descends into farcical tarts and toffs shenanigans and the whole thing becomes rather strained and predictable.  The scene here has shifted to the Houston’s London flat and revolves around them desperately trying to change it from the gothic hell hole it has become since Seb has lived there, into the sort of accommodation they would inhabit.  Little do they know that Sir Norman knows the place all too well, although totally unaware of its owners.  Strangely enough, the laughter here is mainly the result of son Seb donning a panda suit and his reaction on seeing Sir Norman, dressed in a nappy rather than his usual city slicker suit. Unfortunately the remainder of the scene is the overused practice of hiding in strategically placed cupboards and the slamming of various doors

The performances are good all round, although special mention should be given to Debbie Chazen, as the exceptionally funny Ludmilla and to Ben Miller, himself, who has the audience, if not always Sir Norman, eating out of his hand.  The direction, too, is spot on, thanks to Terry Johnson. 

This production can never be termed subtle but it is fun and ensures plenty of laughs especially during the first half.