Misterman at The Lyttleton

Cillian Murphy is always a mesmerising presence and never more so than in his latest offering as Thomas Magill in Enda Walsh’s Misterman.  The Lyttleton stage is transformed by Jamie Vartan into a two-storey vast warehouse strewn with everything except the kitchen sink, but Murphy is undaunted by such a space and occupies it effortlessly from the word go.  From the moment he first appeared I was totally transfixed, never sure where the play was going or how it would end, but convinced that whatever happened the journey would be well worth undertaking.

Enda Walsh directs his solo actor and the pace and tightness of the performance is testament to the fact that they’ve worked together before.  It’s a masterclass in how to do physical, comedic, poetic and, ultimately tragic acting.  Except that Cillian Murphy doesn’t act, he inhabits.

Thomas Magill is a humble man of God from Innisfree who believes that his mission in life is to save the various other inhabitants from a life of sin and evil.  Fixated by his mammy who he periodically chats to before setting off into the village to buy her jammy dodgers, we realise from the start that all is not right in his world.  But why the reel-to-reel tape recorders, barking dogs and demented toing and froing around the whole Lyttleton stage?  Bit by bit these questions are answered but the whole devasting reason for Thomas’s (don’t you dare call him Tom) retreat into this hell hole is only disclosed at the very end of the play.  Before that we see Murphy’s many layered character re-enacting a single day in his life when he chatted to fellow residents of Innisfree, whilst recording the conversations on a tape recorder and writing in his notebook. Except that when the words of the townsfolk are not re-played by him on the tape machines, Murphy effortlessly delivers them himself, switching hilariously and fluidly between characters.

As that fateful day begins to unfold we begin to understand that this friendly, if strange, fellow harbours a dark side.  Whether this is inherent or caused by the cruel taunting of his fellow neighbours, we’re never sure.  In fact Enda never actually let’s us know if the taunts are real or imaginary.  All we do know is that in Murphy’s more than capable hands, the vulnerableThomas elicits our sympathy despite the devastating result of a fateful encounter with a beautiful girl, or angel.  An earlier moment when he sits at his father’s graveside and childlike says, “I really miss you Daddy, but I’m doing my best with it” moved me to tears.

The creative team which includes Adam Silverman as the Lighting Designer and Gregory Clarke in charge of Sound, are brilliant, drawing everyone into the disturbed, lonely and ultimately sad world of a total outsider.  No mean feat with such a technical production which has had to be choreographed to the nth degree.

When this off-beat, compelling, thought provoking and unique play ended, I was actually shaking with emotion.  To my mind it is unmissable.

The King's Speech at Wyndham's Theatre

You’ve seen the film, now go and see the original format of The Kings Speech on stage at Wyndham’s Theatre!  There are reasons why this version scores over the movie, the main one being that David Seidler has been able to reinstate many of the scenes thought unnecessary for his screenplay, thus making the political context much clearer.

One would think that Colin Firth’s portrayal of Bertie cannot be bettered but Charles Edwards wins by a nose.  Perhaps it’s because he is less well known than the famous Mr. Firth, so there are no preconceptions, but his touching and very often funny portrayal seems much more believable.  He also shows the Duke’s unpredictable temper and emotional isolation much more keenly.  Jonathan Hyde as Logue is also superb and we see much more of the man’s theatricality and passion for stagecraft.  The two men’s relationship is more detailed and I particularly enjoyed the scene where Lionel persuades Bertie to allow the future Queen Elizabeth to sit on her husband’s stomach to stimulate his breathing.  Emma Fielding as Elizabeth is very good and shows the future Queen’s tart nature and insistence of the correct protocol at all times.  Bertie’s state of mind is more understandable in this stage version, not only because of the bullying nature of his father, perfectly played by Joss Ackland but because his brother, David, is particularly horrible. Daniel Betts highlights the way the heir to the throne lands his younger sibling with speeches he cannot manage and continually mocks when addressing him as bbbbbBertie.  We are also made more aware of the threat David posed, not only with his addiction to Mrs. Simpson but also his fascination with and admiration for Hitler. 

If I have a criticism it is the odd static scene when the likes of Churchill, the Archbishop of Canterbury and Stanley Baldwin talk about affairs of state, but it is a minor grievance.  Likewise, I would prefer a less camp Archbishop, but when Bertie and Logue are on stage together all these little nit picks disappear.  The two actors have a chemistry that is by turns moving and totally believable.

Combine all these positives with the tight direction of Adrian Noble and the play is very well worth a visit.

The Duchess of Malfi at The Old Vic

I booked to see The Duchess of Malfi at The Old Vic because Eve Best is in the title role and the production is worth seeing for that alone.  She is wonderful, building her character from playful coquettishness with her steward, Antonio at the beginning of the play, to a quiet and intensely moving dignity when she faces death towards the end.  Not quite the end, however, as one of the pitfalls of this long and rather gruesome play, is that she is killed off before the fourth act.  Following her strangulation (I had no idea strangling someone could take so long) the play descends into what can only be described as an over the top bloodbath.  Compassion for the newly departed Duchess is swamped by stifled laughter as one by one the cast is murdered.

The fault lies not in the Old Vic’s production but the play itself.  John Webster’s plot is centred around the fact that The Duchess’s two brothers, Ferdinand, Duke of Calabria and his corrupt brother, the Cardinal, are determined their newly widowed sister should now remain chaste.  Their ‘mole’, Bosola, discovers she has fallen in love and married her steward, Antonio, bearing him three children, so the brothers have her and her two youngest offspring murdered.  More deaths follow until basically only her eldest son and Antonio’s faithful friend, Delio, survive.  A happy little tale not really helped by some of Webster’s language which, at times, is very difficult to understand.

Soutra Gilmour’s fantastic towering design of a dark and eerie palace  and James Farncombe’s perfect atmospheric flickering lighting cannot be faulted, whilst director, Jamie Lloyd’s masterful touch of masking the characters and giving them choreographed movements suggesting a dance of death, is a wonderful piece of theatre.  There is also much to admire in some of the other performances.  Harry Lloyd captures the menace, unpredictability and incestuous nature of the deranged brother, Ferdinand, to perfection, whilst Finbar Lynch’s portrayal of the older brother, the sexually corrupt Cardinal, is chilling.  I’m a sucker for a Scottish accent, so very much enjoyed Mark Bonnar’s Bosola, even though he does somewhat overdo the shouting.  Despite that, he conveys the man’s growing conscience, culminating in his revolt against his masters, very well indeed.

I really don’t think John Webster’s ‘best’ play can be produced any better than this offering at The Old Vic.

Hay Fever at The Noel Coward Theatre

I certainly wouldn’t want to be a house guest with the Bliss family, but watching their antics in Howard Davies’ marvellous new production at The Noel Coward Theatre is an absolute delight.  Bunny Christie has dispensed with the usual beautifully decorated twenties drawing room, opting instead for a chaotic space filled with Simon Bliss’s terrible nude canvases.  This new take on the bohemian Bliss’s home sets the scene perfectly;  we know immediately that this is no ordinary family about to embark on no ordinary weekend in the country.

Various house guests are due to descend upon this less than visitor friendly household, each one a surprise to the other members of the family.  The predatory, ‘resting’ actress Judith Bliss, played to sexy and comic perfection by Lindsay Duncan, has invited a young infatuated male fan.  Her daughter, Sorrel, in Phoebe Waller-Bridge’s more than capable hands, is gauche and gruff in equal measure and is expectantly awaiting the arrival of a buttoned-up diplomat.  Jeremy Northam is extremely funny, expertly highlighting this poor man’s rising anxiety.  Meanwhile Mr. Bliss, the always watchable Kevin R. McNally, has decided to spend the weekend ‘observing’ a young cockney flapper.  Amy Morgan really manages to elicit our sympathy as she becomes the butt of this heartless family’s taunts and, whilst one of my favourite actresses, Olivia Colman, seems to be slightly uncomfortable in the role of the predatory Myra Arundel, Freddie Fox, as brattish Simon Bliss, is a joy to behold.  The sibling bickering between him and Phoebe is totally believable.

The rain we see streaming down the set’s windows mirrors the relentless discomfort these poor house guests have to endure.  They are there purely as walk-on parts in a Bliss family theatrical production. Judith’s need to turn her life into a romantic melodrama has filtered down to the rest of her brood, so that sincerity has flown totally out of, yes you’ve guessed it, the window.

This production highlights all Coward’s witty dialogue, making it appear new and even funnier than ever.  I particularly loved Lindsay Duncan’s “turn” with Jeremy Northam on the sofa.  Her “can you punt” and shocked cry of “Richard” has to be the benchmark for anyone attempting to portray La Bliss, because underneath the exaggeration lies an element of truth.  We totally believe in her and her family.

I sat two rows back and felt myself squirming with probably the same amount of discomfort as the characters on stage, because Howard Davies allowed a couple of pauses to go on almost too long, but not quite – pure genius.  But that to me sums up the whole production.  I urge you to give youself a treat and see Coward as he should be played.

Travelling Light at The Lyttleton

I suppose disappointment with a production had to happen before long and such was the case with Travelling Light at The Lyttleton.  To my mind, the fault lies with the play itself, for although Act One is charming and entertaining, Act Two seems to lose its way.

The play by Nicholas Wright concerns Motl Mendl, who returns home to his remote village or Shtetl, after the death of his father, a Jewish photographer.  Whilst there he comes across his father’s 1896 Lumiere Brothers cinematograph and starts experimenting with the machine by filming life in the village.  Impressed with the youth’s talent, Jacob (a wealthy local timber merchant) becomes Motl’s backer.  Enter a pretty young girl assistant called Anna, add the stirring of the boy’s and Jacob’s heart strings and the scene is set for jealousy, a power struggle and the problems involved with making moving pictures on a budget.  Motl eventually tiring of these hindrances to making his beloved movies does a runner to Hollywood …. alone!  Anna, Motl’s muse and (it would seem) sexual plaything is abandoned.

May I mention a couple of niggles which start with the accent discrepencies between the older Motl, (now re-named Maurice Montgomery and played by Paul Jesson) and his younger version, the cold and rather usubtle, Damien Molony?  Can someone please explain to me why Motl has no accent at all and yet Maurice is full on Jewish in 1936?  In order to inform us (the audience) that he decided to embrace his Jewishness whilst in the US?  I don’t know, but it is irritating whatever the reason. Likewise, the usually wonderful Anthony Sher adopts a very over the top accent as Jacob.  Previous critics have likened his performance to an escapee from Fiddler on the Roof and I’m afraid I sadly have to agree.

The flickering black and white filmed sequences of the various villagers illuminated on the wall of the house are a charming and lovely touch, except that Maurice as the older and successful Hollywood film maker tends to be narrating at the same time, so the focus is lost.

For me the most believable character in a sea of Jewish stereotypes is Lauren O’Neil as Anna.  Her lovely face in close-up on the cinema screen is a perfect portrayal of a silent screen goddess and, although it stretches the imagination to believe that she should instinctively understand the process of cutting and editing film, it doesn’t really seem to matter.  What does is the schmaltzy scene in Act Two when Maurice discovers the identity of a young actor, Nate Dershowitz, also played by Damien Molony. 

I apologise if I’m sounding totally negative.  The play isn’t all doom and gloom and there are some clever and amusing touches, which is to be expected when Nicholas Hytner is directing.  I just feel that the amalgamation of film and theatre doesn’t quite work, with the filmed sequences upstaging the theatrical element at every turn.  I would prefer the play to be rooted in some kind of reality and have more dramatic depth.

The Recruiting Officer at The Donmar

Unusually, the second theatre trip for 2012 was another Restoration Comedy, this time The Recuiting Officer at The Donmar.  The draw for me was Mackenzie Crook playing Sergeant Kite, as I loved his performance in Jerusalem.  He doesn’t disappoint this time around either and his comic timing and wonderful expressions are a joy to behold.  He is, in essence, unforgettable.  The play is centred around Captain Plume, expertly played by Tobias Menzies and Captain Brazen, brought to life by the wonderful but hardly recognisable Mark Gatiss, recruiting for the Army in Shrewsbury.  Plume’s Sergeant Kite lies, cheats and dresses as a fortune teller in order to enlist gullible men as soldiers.  Confusion abounds when women come into the equation – the womanising Plume is smitten with Silvia, perfectly played by Nancy Carroll, who disguises herself as a man in order to get recruited by him, Capt Brazen is led up the garden path by Silvia’s bitchy cousin Melinda, a wonderfully funny Rachael Stirling who is actually in love with Mr. Worthy, an excellent Nicholas Burns and Rose, Aimee-Ffion Edwards’s adorable country wench.

This is Josie Rourke’s first offering as Artistic Director of The Donmar and if it’s a sign of what’s to come, I feel very confident that all will be well.  The pace of the production is spot on and I loved various members of the cast performimg as a folk band, especially the reprise of Over the Hills and Far Away at the show’s end, as one by one the musicians put down their instruments and head off to war.

Full praise, too, to Lucy Osborne, the designer.  The glow from all the flickering candles is very atmospheric and sets the scene right from the off.

It seems wrong to only highlight certain performances as everyone in this new production of Farquar’s hilarious play deserves praise.  Tobias Menzies switches from rake to monogamous lover with consummate ease and, oh my, what a wink this officer has.  The poodle wigged Mark Gatiss flounces, winks and smiles in hilarious fashion, which should be too over the top to work but isn’t and does.  Rachael Stirling is brilliantly comedic and perfects a wonderful faux posh accent, making “air” come out as “ear” before enacting a couple of brilliant “slapstick” manoeuvres.

It’s rare to find all round perfection even on the perfect Donmar stage but it’s there for all to see in this Recruiting Officer.  Sign me up Sergeant Kite.

She Stoops To Conquer at The Olivier

It had been a few weeks since the last theatre visit, so I was very much looking forward to returning to one of my favourite “spaces” The Olivier Theatre at The National to see She Stoops to Conquer.  If my first theatre trip of the year is to be a bench mark of what’s to come, whoopee, for Oliver Goldsmith’s comedy of confusion and mistaken identity was an absolute delight – the best medicine for a dose of winter blues.

The plot of this joyous Restoration Comedy centres around two young blades, Marlowe and Hastings, who are tricked into mistaking a country house, belonging to Mr. & Mrs. Hardcastle, for an inn.  Hardcastle has high hopes of a match between his daughter, Kate and Marlowe, but begins to doubt his choice when the young man treats him as the inn keeper and all hell breaks loose.

A truly wonderful cast, ably abetted by a stunning set courtesy of designer Mark Thompson and expert direction by Jamie Lloyd, ensure that this production, whilst true to its origins, is bang up to date.  I particularly loved the chorus of singing servants who tumble on between acts banging kitchen utensils.

Restoration Comedy is, to my mind, a difficult genre to get right; each character is exaggerated but must not  tip over into overacting.  Here it works to perfection, most notably by the wonderful Sophie Thompson playing Mrs. Hardcastle.  Her hilarious accents and wonderful gurning face are enough to ensure the audience is kept amused throughout and I mustn't forget the excellent bit of business involving a curtesy. 

She is not alone, however.  Harry Hadden-Paton as Marlow, who is a nervous gibbering wreck when speaking to women of his own class but a rampant letch in the company of serving wenches, is superb.  He switches with consummate ease;  the painfully shy, inhibited young man unable to even look at Kate Hardcastle, to the pawing, sexual stallion in the company of Kate playing a barmaid;  hilarious.  Plus his pairing with John Heffernan’s Hastings is a magical piece of casting, a double act par excellence.  I particularly enjoyed his ecstacic delight when thinking of wearing a white and gold coat.  Much has been said about the casting of ex Coronation Street actress, Katherine Kelly, as Kate Hardcastle.  Her return to the stage is a triumph, as she hits just the right note, not only when playing Kate as the spirited daughter sussing out her father’s choice of husband, but also when turning on the sexual charm whilst posing as a barmaid.  David Flynn’s Tony Lumpkin, Mr. Hardcastle’s stepson who sets up the whole plot, is also spot on, as is Steve Pemberton as Mr. Hardcastle himself.

This is yet another riotous evening at the theatre.  Long may it continue!