Jumpy at The Duke of York's

Another day, another dysfunctional middle-class family.  This time at the Duke of York’s Theatre with Jumpy, a wonderfully funny, rude and at times moving new play by April de Angelis, which has transferred from The Royal Court.

Hilary, beautifully portrayed by the magnificent Tamsin Greig, is a mother with a problem, a problem all too recognisable to any parent who has, or has had a teenager in the family.  The teenager in this instance is stroppy, 15 year old Tilly (an excellent Bel Powley) who leaves the house looking twice her age and is found to be sleeping with her equally young boyfriend.  As a supposed liberal, fifty year old middle class London mother who once protested at Greenham Common, Hilary is at a loss as to how to react to a daughter who treats her with undisguised contempt.  She endures panic attacks on the tube, especially as she has the added worry that her job might be on the way out, so the obligatory glass or three of wine is essential to her well being whenever she arrives home.  There is no succour to be had from a passionate husband either, as sexual antics with him have long been replaced by her reading him excerpts from Great Expectations when they retire to the marital bed.  The marriage eventually grinds to a halt and she is subsequently hit on by her daughter’s boyfriend’s father (a self regarding actor very well played by Richard Lintern).  She doesn’t know whether to be fascinated, flattered or frightened.  In fact the whole play hinges on how Hilary should behave to whatever situation comes her way, which is why Greig is so perfect in the role.  She manages to convey exasperation, despair and the all encompassing maternal love, whilst treating us to comedic touches and several side splittingly funny moments.  Doon Mackichan as her best friend Frances also delivers on the comedy front.  Her decision to resuscitate a flagging theatrical career by showcasing a new burlesque routine is excruciatingly embarrassing and hilarious, as is her futile attempt to persuade Hilary to mirror her sexual aggressiveness. 

The writing is so very true to life and I defy any modern parent not to recognise the moment when they try to have a serious conversation with their offspring and the recipient of their words of wisdom is far more interested in studying their mobile phones.  The emotional truth is there for all to see and I love the way April de Angelis keeps you guessing as to the play’s outcome.

Nina Raine’s direction is tight and expertly merges the play’s comedy and deeper feeling.   Jumpy is yet another Royal Court success story.

The Last of The Haussmans at The Lyttleton

When I saw Julie Walters was returning to The National, the decision to book to see The Last of the Haussmans was a no brainer.  Watching it rather later on in the run than normal, I had already read the various professional critics air their views and they had somewhat dampened my excitement, but not too much.  After all Helen McCrory and Rory Kinnear are also in the cast, so the odd three rather than four stars really shouldn’t put me off.  And, as far as I’m concerned they didn’t.  Various criticisms over stereotypical characters and the production lacking in a searching or satisfying outcome doesn’t hold water with me.  Because, at the end of the day (or very enjoyable evening) the actor, Stephen Beresford’s first play delivers scorching one liners, a superb cast and a great, fun night out.

Judy (the national treasure that is Julie Walters) is an ageing hippy who lives in a ramshackle but beautifully situated, boat inspired house overlooking the sea somewhere in the West Country.  Her offspring, Libby (the excellent Helen McCrory) and Nick (the beautifully restrained but oh so believable Rory Kinnear) are staying with her as she recuperates from cancer surgery.  Neither particularly want to be there, scarred as they are by Judy’s less than satisfactory early parenting skills and ability to embarrass them whenever she opens her mouth.  Likewise, Libby’s fifteen year old daughter, Summer (Isabella Laughland - a complete natural), although her beef isn’t with her mouthy grandmother but with her mother, who has a propensity to fall in love, not only with the wrong men, but with men who are way too old.  Throw into the mix a local married Doctor, Peter (the very watchable Matthew Marsh) who flirts with Judy, who wouldn’t say no to a sexual invitation that unfortunately won’t happen because he has his eyes set on Libby, plus the young, fit Daniel (an excellent debut by Taron Egerton) who secretly fancies Libby but is lusted over by the gay, ex junkie, Nick and hero worshipped by Summer and the scene is set for melt down.

They all have issues.  Judy has never really become a grown up and is still locked into the sixties, yearning to return to India.  She comes alive when the Doc calls round, in what amounts to sixties fancy dress and they reminisce about the good times, bringing them back to life by singing, playing guitar or playing very, very loud music, much to the consternation of her children.  The uptight and bossy Libby is starved of love and is concerned about whether or not her and Nick will inherit the house.   Brother Nick, also unlucky in love, is a neurotic, camp, ex junkie with kohl rimmed eyes and a wonderful air of vulnerability, who doesn’t enjoy being Mummy’s favoured child.  Summer is an angry teenager who, when not swigging alcohol, sits and glowers.  In fact the whole household doesn’t wait until sundown before opening the gin bottle, apart from Daniel, who appears as if from nowhere and watches.

Howard Davies directs a tightly knit production, squeezing out laugh after laugh.  Not too difficult a task because each cast member is more than adept at perfect comic timing.  The scene where Nick, palpably embarrassed and uncomfortable, tries to make conversation with Daniel will stay with me for a long time – brilliant.  Vicki Mortimer’s crumbling house, decorated as a tatty shrine to hippiedom is pitch perfect and the accompanying sixties tracks are spot on.  How wonderful is it to hear Family’s Roger Chapman’s distinctive voice again?

As you can probably gather, I loved it and if I were giving out stars I’d go for five!

The Doctor's Dilemma at The Lyttleton

Due to the Olympic panic surrounding travelling to and around London last night, our earlier departure meant we arrived at The National somewhat earlier than normal;  five pm to be exact.  But, no matter, there is always something to do or see in this wonderful space and the absence of a rushed drive meant the minimum of stress.  A plus, because, even though last night the stage at The Lyttleton was littered with the medical profession, there wasn’t one of the Doctors I would trust with diagnosing or treating anything!  Which was obviously one of the points Bernard Shaw was making when he wrote the play in 1906, as a challenge from his friend, the theatre critic, William Archer, to write a tragedy involving death. In fact the play, The Doctor’s Dilemma, turned out to be a comedy with the subtitle of “A Tragedy”.

The play centres around Sir Colenso Ridgeon a much feted surgeon who has discovered a new inoculation against TB.  The beautiful Jennifer Dubedat begs him to save her artist husband’s life, but Ridgeon has a problem in that he can only cure a small number of patients.  When he discovers that Louis Dubedat is an out and out scoundrel and that he himself has fallen in love with Mrs. Dubedat, his dilemma is whether he uses his skill to cure the artist or a worthy fellow doctor.

Thus Shaw, in highlighting a time when private doctors charged a small fortune for pointless operations, has produced a relevant play for today, when profit is often put before the patient’s good.  Ridgeon’s three eminent doctor friends, Mr Cutler Walpole (Robert Portal) Sir Ralph Bloomfield Bonington (Malcolm Sinclair) and Sir Patrick Cullen (David Calder), although perpetually sending up their self-important characters, just about manage not to slip into caricature and provide Act One with plenty of laughs.  Malcolm Sinclair is particularly funny, despite mercilessly hamming it up.

Genevieve O’Reilly makes a worthy Jennifer Dubedat and leaves us in no doubt that she adores her feckless husband, but she is somewhat lacking in the facial acting department.  Nevertheless she kind of makes up for that when partially disrobed in Act Two;  the actress has an amazing figure!!  Tom Burke’s Louis Dubedat on the other hand is excellent.  He makes us ultimately like a dislikeable rogue which is no mean feat.  Actually there is no weak link in the whole cast, although for me the acting honours ultimately belong to Aden Gillett as the self-satisfying Sir Colenso Ridgeon.  When he looks at himself in the mirror and smooths down his hair before admitting Mrs Dubedat into his consulting room, we are in no doubt that this is a vain, although ultimately tragic man.  He is about to sacrifice his professional conscience to his physical desire.

Peter McKintosh’s sumptuous design and Neil Austin’s atmospheric lighting cannot be faulted.  They perfectly highlight the differences between the affluence of a private medical practice and poverty of Dubedat’s artist studio.  Meanwhile Nadia Fall’s direction is spot on.

If only Mr Shaw had had more of an idea as to how to conclude the play. Then the prognosis would be even more positive.

Richard III at The Globe

I visited The Globe last night for the first time and it was a magical experience.  The sun shone, our Olympic city sparkled and Mark Rylance as Richard III shone, sparkled and sizzled.  The man is pure genius. Is he improvising - so fresh, clear and, yes, funny is his Richard?  His every speech can be totally understood and the King’s descent into madness is brilliantly portrayed.  I envied the audience in the pit with whom he interacts and got totally caught up in the magic that is The Globe Theatre.  So this is how Shakespeare should be played?  I’m experiencing the bard as did the theatregoers all those years ago.

The magic began on stepping into the auditorium itself.  The scene before me, and atmospheric music from the on-stage musicians, alongside the buzz from the assembled audience took my breath away.  No matter that the seats aren’t the most comfortable, I had a cushion and a back wall to lean against.  No matter that it was hot and sticky, the actors in their period costumes were feeling the heat much more.  It was going to be a great night and so it proved.

What do they say?  Grab the audience from the word go?  Mark Rylance does just that.  His “winter of discontent” has never felt so real and there were so many laugh out loud moments that I’m amazed it’s taken me until now to realise Shakespeare is some comedian.  The whole cast are faultless with some stand out performances, namely Samuel Barnett as Queen Elizabeth, Paul Chahidi as Hastings/Tyrrell and Roger Lloyd-Pack as Buckingham.  Such is the quality of acting from Barnett, Johnny Flynn as Lady Anne and James Garnon as The Duchess of York, that one totally forgets there are no women actors in the cast. There are no gimmicks.  Well just a minor one when the Duchess of York glides on as if on castors;  hilarious.  This is just rudimentary Shakespeare done to perfection. 

I particularly like the fact that the two young Princes are played by two young boys, Austin Moulton/Shanu Hazzan as Edward, Prince of Wales and Lorenzo Allchurch/Dylan Standen as Richard, Duke of York.  They brought an air of authenticity, although I don't know which of the four boys who perform the two roles were on stage last night.

The period dancing which brings the play to a close is a wonderful touch and if the audience reaction and number of curtain calls is anything to go by, I’m not the only one who will rave about this Richard III.

This is one hot ticket.  Roll on Twelfth Night and Mark Rylance as Olivia.  This is also to be directed by the excellent Tim Carroll and I can’t wait.

Timon of Athens at The Olivier

As a general rule I prefer Shakespeare productions to be set in the period, but his least performed play, Timon of Athens, works perfectly as a modern day piece.  Not his best work, but it hits the right note under the direction of Nicholas Hytner and starring Simon Russell Beale as Timon.  Obviously substituting Athens for London, Hytner litters the stage at the beginning with the Occupy protesters still encamped on the city’s fringe, whilst our first glimpse of the hero at the opening of the new Timon Room, named after him, is situated in the equivalent of The National Gallery.  We are being treated to a parable of today – the devastating affect of the power of money.

Timon is an extremely rich Athen’s philanthropist who lavishes gifts and treats on his so-called friends ad infinitum.  Artistic freeloaders constantly toady up to him and a poet, excellently portrayed by Nick Sampson, is particularly oily.  An insignificant man when not pressing gifts onto sweaty outstretched palms, Timon doesn’t appear to notice sycophants even when they’re right in his face;  surely anyone would pick out Ventidius, a coke-sniffing toff as loathsome (mind you, Tom Robertson does make him very funny).  But that is one of Timon’s problems.  He has no concept of the idea of true friendship.  Another flaw in his personality is his lack of moderation.  When the money runs out and his friends come up wanting, inventing one excuse after another for not dipping their hands in their pockets to help him, he gets back at them by throwing yet another dinner party.  Only this time the gourmet grub is exchanged for excrement.  Not a very subtle retaliation.

The only two people in Timon’s life who aren’t afraid to tell him the truth are Flavia (usually Flavius but interestingly played here by Deborah Findlay) his steward and the philosopher, Apemantus (an excellent Hilton McRae).  But their loyalty and truthfulness gets them nowhere.  In a slightly less satisfactory second half, when Timon is reduced to living in cardboard city with a shopping trolley full to the brim with his remaining worldly possessions, they are both sent packing.  Timon no longer trusts anyone and is eaten up with hatred and self-loathing.

Very few actors could make the character of Timon remotely appealing in Act Two, such is his penchant for ranting at anyone and everyone and forgetting any trace of the impeccable manners he had in the First Act.  But somehow the wonderful Simon Russell Beale makes his Timon a pitiable figure and we care about what will happen to him.  The light and shade in his wonderful voice and his expert delivery of the Shakespearian language makes this less well known Shakespeare play well worth a visit.

Birthday at The Royal Court

I don’t want to give the game away but something strange is going in on the Maternity Ward of the NHS Hospital on stage at The Royal Court.  Stephen Mangan’s Ed eventually appears to be the one about to give birth.  Joe Penhall’s latest play is looking at childbirth from the male perspective whilst simultaneously having a very large dig at the inadequacies of our National Health Service.

Stephen Mangan’s discomfort and concern is palpable and I found hidden memories of when I gave birth for the first time resurfacing.  His Ed has decided to take on the role of mother following the very difficult birth of his first child by his wife, Lisa, played by Lisa Dillon.  Whilst Mangan brings equal amounts of laugh out loud humour, panic and pathos to his role, Dillon never quite elicits much sympathy and remains rather cold and distant throughout.  She is by her husband’s side to offer advice and support;  after all there aren’t many men who would agree to be fitted with an artificial womb and suffer all the indignities we women suffer in order to produce the second child she is unable to deliver.  But there isn’t much sympathy on tap and she even forgets his f***ing raspberry leaf tea – a major sin when your hormones are all to pot!

One would be forgiven for thinking that Joe Penhall has had a pretty difficult time himself when it comes to babies being delivered within the NHS system if the behaviour of the alarmingly laid back nurse, beautifully played by Llewella Gideon is anything to go by.  

There are some sharp observations about human nature, especially when the couple rage at the medics when everything is going belly up, but praise them to the hilt when everything goes well.

Roger Mitchell’s direction is excellent and the revolving set perfectly shows us the passing of time;  poor old Ed’s labour is definitely laboured.

Sweeney Todd at The Adelphi

Musicals are not really my theatre of choice, but I make an exception with Sweeney Todd currently playing at The Adelphi Theatre.  This production is pure perfection, from the brilliantly inventive set designed by Anthony Ward to the superlative performances by Imelda Staunton and Michael Ball.  I thought Sweeney Todd the movie starring Johnny Depp and Helena Bonham-Carter was excellent but this stage version knocks that into a cocked hat.

I’ve always known that Imelda Staunton is a terrific actress but here she is a revelation as the woman who is totally and utterly obsessed with the demon barber.  She will and does do anything to please him, making us laugh all the way to her pie shop in the process, such is her superb comic timing.  Never mind that she is a real villain who thinks nothing of sacrificing a young boy she has befriended, her every entrance is a delight.
Michael Ball is totally unrecognisable as Sweeney and his fleshy, pallid face and lank dark forelock send a shiver down the most rigid of spines, especially when he switches from a man with a legitimate grievance into a deranged serial killer.

The inventive, if more than dark way he and his accomplice choose to dispose of their victims, is to turn them into the fillings for Mrs Lovett’s pies, thus providing a neat way to hide a steady build up of bodies, but also to boost the revenue from her pie shop.  What started out as inedible paltry, pasties, turn into tasty morsels that her clients can’t get enough of.  If only they knew the secret!

Jonathan Kent’s decision to stage this version of Sondheim’s musical in what looks like a dilapidated factory, is a master stroke, as it really heightens the shift of tone from the chilling prologue with its screams and factory whistles to the comic spectacle of Mrs Lovett making her pies.  This shift occurs throughout the evening;  we don’t relax, knowing that blood could flow at any time.

John Bowe’s self-flagellating judge and Peter Polycarpou’s sadistic henchman are excellent, as are Nicholas Skilbeck’s musical direction and Paul Groothuisi's sound design.

Sondheim’s superb lyrics, amongst them “shepherd’s pie peppered with actual shepherd on top”, along with this brilliant cast ensure a brilliant night at the theatre.  Don’t miss it.