Review - Captain Corelli's Mandolin (Harold Pinter Theatre)

This summer, if you're not planning a holiday abroad then why not immerse yourself in the stage adaptation of Rona Munro’s adaptation of Louis de Bernières’s classic 1994 poolside read Captain Corelli’s Mandolin, which has transferred to the West End after a well received UK tour. 

Alex Mugnaioni and Madison Clare in Captain Corelli's Mandolin

Photo credit - Marc Brenner

The emotionally charged story, set in idyllic Cephalonia during the Italian and German Occupation, sees a cheery Italian army captain with a love for music form an uneasy bond with headstrong and understandably hostile local woman. In spite of the forces threaten their budding romance, the pair find solace in each other’s company, not knowing what the audience gets a sense of from the play’s very beginning; that their time together is limited, and that eventually fate will tear them apart.

Director Melly Still has created a soft focused, halcyon world for the characters to inhabit, which feels almost dreamlike in contrast to the chaos and violence of the war which threatens to encroach them. Tranquil lighting, set design and sound elements create a beautifully serene atmosphere, which washes over the production in waves.

The cast of Captain Corelli's Mandolin

Photo credit - Marc Brenner

Yes, aesthetically Captain Corelli’s Mandolin is quite beautiful, and the cast of actor-musicians tasked with bringing the tale to life is uniformly excellent. However, where the production falters is in its pacing. With so much content provided by the source material, the play feels fragmented and unfocussed at times. In fact, the titular character doesn’t even appear until the curtain is ready to come down on act one. Much of the time spent before the interval focuses on Pelagia’s small-town life and how she dreams of greater things for herself, all which being courted by the ill-fated local Mandras.

Starkly interspersing Pelagia’s relatively carefree days, are the harsh wartime memories of Italian soldier Carlo and his close friend turned lover Francesco, the former of which is stationed alongside Captain Corelli in act 2.

Alex Mugnaioni and the cast of Captain Corelli's Mandolin

Photo credit - Marc Brenner

Both storylines offer useful insights into the life of ordinary people during the war, but feel long winded and slightly aimless. Not to mention that by shunting the relationship of Captain Corelli and Pelagia to act 2, there is significantly less time to solidify the bond between them. Actors Alex Mugnaioni and Madison Clare give touching performances, and their chemistry is completely tangible, but what should be a slow burning journey from hate to adoration feels far too rushed.

Nevertheless, when the full force of the war arrives on the shores of Cephalonia, the play switches gears and becomes surprisingly brutal and engrossing. The aftermath is equally emotionally exhausting, as the survivors come to terms with the agony they have lived through, and try their best to move on.

The play's languorous first act may tread water for a bit too long, but there are moments of beauty, horror, romance, and terror throughout which totally mesmerise.

I was invited to review Captain Corelli's Mandolin thanks to London Box Office 

Review - The Woman in Black (Fortune Theatre)

The Woman in Black is now celebrating 30 bone-chilling years on the West End. Based on Susan Hill’s novel of the same name, The Woman in Black sees an elderly former lawyer named Arthur Kipps recounting a fateful trip he made many years earlier, during which time he encountered the titular woman in the derelict Eel Marsh House and fell victim to her curse. Kipps enlists the help of an actor to assist him in putting his story down in a play, but as the two men work to bring the haunting tale to life, a dark prescience lurks in the wings. 

 

Stuart Fox and Matthew Spencer in The woman in Black
Photo credit - Tristram Kenton

Stuart Fox and Matthew Spencer star as Kipps and The Actor, and do a miraculous job of bringing all of the play’s various eclectic characters to life. Within the intimate auditorium of the Fortune Theatre, which stands in for a cosy Victorian stage, the play is utterly engrossing from beginning to end.

Every tiny bump in the dark rings out across the audience and sends shivers down the spine, with Stephen Mallatratt's script amping up the unease as the story builds towards its chilling conclusion. Matthew Spencer’s portrayal of fear and confusion as he re-enacts the younger Kipps’ encounters at Eel Marsh House are so focused and animated that the entire audience can’t help but be pulled in to the world of the play. Yelps of fear from theatregoers are unsurprisingly common, and only help to stoke the energy in audience.

With 30 year reputation for inducing nightmares in audiences of all ages, and a place on the GCSE Drama curriculum, it’s no surprise that The Woman in Black remains as frighteningly fresh as ever.

Review - Our Town (Regent's Park Open Air Theatre)

This summer, director Ellen McDougall has brought a bit of olde worlde Americana to the Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre with Our Town, Thornton Wilder’s 1938 Pulitzer Prize winning drama about birth, life, and death in the fictional New Hampshire town of Grover’s Corners.

 

The cast of  Our Town
Photo credit - Johan Persson

The play is a thought provoking one, although it begins rather slowly. Using meta theatrical techniques which were undoubtedly rather innovative when the play first premiered, a twinkly eyed Stage Manager talks directly to the audience, introducing them to several key personalities within the town. There are plenty of characters to get to know, but at the heart of the story are childhood sweethearts George and Emily, whose rocky courtship marks the beginning of a much more focused and streamlined tale. Actors Arthur Hughes and Francesca Henry make a sweet couple, and their awkward first date over ice-cream sodas is an endearing scene which encapsulates the play’s fly-on-the-wall set-up extremely well.

However, the production doesn’t really ramp up until the final act, running at a brisk 30 minutes compared to 1 hour and 20 minutes in the first half. Taking place after the untimely demise of one of the town’s beloved residents, the play delves into the ephemerality of life, dishing out a didactic message about making the most of every second of every day. It’s rather profound, and excellently acted all round, especially when aided by the eerie silence of the outdoor setting post-sunset.

Ellen McDougall’s production of Our Town fits perfectly into the Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre, with its messages about life and themes of introspection reflected in Rosie Elnile’s homespun set design, which mirrors the auditorium’s tiered bleachers, placing the audience well and truly within Grover’s Corners. Structurally Our Town may be a bit of a slow burn, but those who persevere as the story stretches into the chilly summer evening will be rewarded with a conclusion to leave a lump in anyone’s throat.

I was invited to review Our Town thanks to London Box Office

Review - Rosmersholm (Duke of York's Theatre)

Henrik Ibsen’s Rosmersholm is a politically charged tragedy swelling with a melancholy which seeps from every nook.

Hayley Atwell and the cast of Rosmersholm
Photo credit - Johan Persson

In a small Norwegian town, on the eve of an election which sees the conservative status quo challenged by radical new liberalist thinking, widowed atheist John Rosmer, formerly a well-respected pastor, wavers between embracing modern thinking, and buckling under the history and tradition which his family name, and home, is built on. On one side of the argument is his friend, and former companion to his deceased wife, Rebecca, whose intellect and self-sufficiency is at odds with the patriarchal thinking of the old. However, on the other side Rosmer’s brother-in-law Andreas Kroll campaigns for the ruling class to remain in what he sees as its rightful place. As both sides’ campaigning increases in ferocity, Rosmersholm becomes an epicentre of chaos, both personal and political. 

Tom Burke and Giles Terera in Rosmersholm
Photo credit - Johan Persson

Ian Rickson, former artistic director at the Royal Court Theatre, has done an extraordinary job of bringing this rarely performed Ibsen gem to the stage. Really, it could have been written yesterday. Rosmersholm is the perfect play for 2019, capturing the utter chaos of post-Brexit Britain, and the fervent tidal wave of fake news which notably swelled up in the run up to the 2016 US presidential election and has continued to wreak havoc politically ever since. 

Rae Smith's production design brings the bleakness of Rosmersholm to life; dozens of portraits hang on the walls and act as a constant reminder of the house’s proud history, meanwhile a grim line of grime and peeling paint trailing the bottom of the walls betrays the ghost of a flood which ravaged the house a year ago. That waterline, and the house’s accompanying disarray, acts as a constant symbol of guilt for Rosmer, as it betrays the upsetting and somewhat scandalous conditions of Rosmer’s late wife’s death; suicide by drowning, in the house’s adjacent millrun.

Giles Terera and Hayley Atwell in Rosmersholm

Photo credit - Johan Persson

The spectral canvas of the house is adorned with vivid, impressive performers in the play’s central trio. Hayley Atwell's Rebecca West is as enthralling & unreadable as characters get, engaging Tom Burke's disengaged John Rosmer in a precarious tug-of-war; do what's right or do what's safe. Meanwhile Giles Terera’s Kroll exudes an agitated energy as a member of the ruling class who intends to keep the lower societal classes subjugated. Yet another aspect of the play which feels uncomfortably familiar today. 

Holding a mirror up to modern day issues, while providing a glimpse into gender, society and politics of the late 1800s, Rosmersholm proves that the more things change, the more they stay the same. Ibsen’s smart, sophisticated dialogue is in good hands with the trio of star leads, in a production which captures today’s rocky political climate scarily well.

I was invited to review Rosmersholm thanks to London Box Office 

Review - True West (Vaudeville Theatre)

It’s the 80s, and somewhere in the oppressively hot suburbs of SoCal, Ivy League educated screenwriter Austin sits hunched over a typewriter, penning his latest screenplay and periodically stopping to give the potted plants surrounding him an obligatory spritz of water.

Kit Harington and Johnny Flynn in True West
Photo credit - Marc Brenner

It’s in this environment of simmering pressure, where life (and livelihoods) balance precariously on the precipice, ready to give in at any moment, that True West blooms and wilts. Sam Shepard’s family drama, a 1983 Pulitzer Prize finalist, explores the rocky reconnection of two estranged brothers. The aforementioned Austin is a mousy type, dressed in variations on beige, he’s nervy and dweeby, and thoroughly intimidated by Lee, his older brother. Lee has a prickly feline quality to him, like an alley cat on the prowl. And he’s got an idea for a screenplay too.

Harkening back to the time of the pioneers, who headed West in search for land and gold, the play’s title acts as a metaphor for the dilemma each character faces. Austin is financially stable but craves freedom, whilst Lee is a roaming criminal who seems to harbour a secret desire for financial security and normalcy. Austin’s screenplay is a romance, described as a period piece. It’s leagues away from the wild adventure of the blockbuster Western Lee pitches, and leagues away from the sort of life Austin comes to realise he wants.

Johnny Flynn in True West
Photo credit - Marc Brenner

As the warring brothers Austin and Lee, Kit Harington and Johnny Flynn respectively hold the piece together with strong, charismatic performances, but both characters feel rather two dimensional, as does the force which drives them. Shephard’s script suggests that the brothers are on the verge of trading places, as Austin discovers a vicious reckless side to himself, but the idea never fully forms.

As a result, the play ambles towards its finale, with no clear sense of where it is going. Although each individual scene is entertaining enough, they all connect rather disjointedly, and beyond the surface levels of humour and angst, haphazardly stitched together, there’s not much to latch on to in True West.

Review - Summer and Smoke (Duke of York's Theatre)

In Glorious Hill, Mississippi, childhood friends Alma Winemiller and Doctor John Buchanan Jr. reunite after several years apart. Although Alma is an unassuming and upstanding member of the community and John has a rather scandalous reputation for gambling and romancing, the pair rekindle a smouldered flame and are drawn to each other almost instinctually.

Matthew Needham and Patsy Ferran in Summer and Smoke
Photo credit - Marc Brenner

Although Summer and Smoke is a delicate and powerful drama, it'd be hard to argue that this is Tennessee Williams' best play. But that's hardly surprising considering the other dramatic juggernauts he penned. Summer and Smoke feels looser and more meandering that its siblings, but nevertheless there's still an awful lot to enjoy, especially with Rebecca Frecknall's witty and surgically precise direction to shape the piece into something more sparky and volatile than the text alone suggests. William's dialogue masterfully captures moods and moments, and Frecknall's direction shines a spotlight on those moments, flaying them before the audience's eyes. 

 

The theme of conformity and rejection of societal expectations are common to many Tennessee Williams plays, but it seldom as heavily signalled than in Summer and Smoke. John is a doctor and the son of a respected medical professional, but far from portraying his professionalism outwardly, he is louche and scruffy, with a hungry look in his eye. Matthew Needham plays his sulking rage and simmering passion to perfection, as he stalks the stage, slowly but surely peeling away Alma's ultra-refined and poised exterior. Meanwhile a revelatory performance sees Patsy Ferran disappear into Alma Winemiller entirely.

 

Patsy Ferran in Summer and Smoke
Photo credit - Marc Brenner

From her first appearance, gasping and suffocating into a microphone centre stage, surrounded by a septet of pianos, all eyes are on her. Every severe glance, anxious inhalation and soulless smile is etched out precisely on Ferran's face as Alma tries her best to reject her urges and conform to expectations. She's constantly on edge; a product of her mother's unfortunate mental breakdown several years prior to the events of the play. Forced to grow up too soon, she's evidently afraid that her carefree youth has passed her by. She's an elastic band, squeaking and stretching as she resists her wants and desires in order to maintain control and conform to the expectations put upon her. But of course, it's only a matter of time before she snaps.

 

As the direction of the play becomes clearer and the ending becomes more obvious, the inevitable trajectory of Alma and John becomes almost unbearable to watch, as their ideals slowly twist inside out. It's evident from the start that they are too different to ever work as a couple, and yet it's difficult not to root for Alma's liberation and John's redemption.

Matthew Needham in Summer and Smoke
Photo credit - Marc Brenner

Tom Scutt's purposefully threadbare design has the characters confined to centre stage, for the most part, surrounded by the tinkling ivories of seven pianos. Undoubtedly a metaphor for the tattling, self-involved inhabitant of Glorious Hill, the pianos underscore much of the play with a pretty, cloying tune which fills the air like a saccharine summer haze. It's easy to see why John and Alma are forced to both extremes in terms of societal convention, when they are constantly being put on a pedestal and inspected by their neighbours and peers. 

 

The suffocating atmosphere of small-town Mississippi is conjured perfectly in this stifling, completely engrossing production. Gorgeous design, attentive direction and a pair of incredible lead performances transform this lesser performed Williams play into a glimmering gem!  

 

I was invited to review Summer and Smoke thanks to seatplan.com

Review - Honour (Park Theatre)

Joanna Murray-Smith's Honour is a tough watch in 2018. The play, which was first performed in 1995, offers a bleak look at the deterioration of a 32 year long marriage between acclaimed journalist George and his writer wife Honour, when George meets and falls in love with ambitious up-and-coming journalist Claudia. 

Katie Brayben and Henry Goodman in Honour
Photo credit - Alex Brenner

Curiously, the play opens on a scene between Henry and Claudia, with the latter interviewing the former about about his career. The scene verves with energy, Henry's life experience feeding Claudia's hunger for success. The audience is instantly endeared the pair, as intellectual equals if not lovers, as they bounce and buffer off each other. So when George returns home and is met by the mundane predictability of his married life, for a split second the audience longs for the sparky dialogue of the previous scene. And in that moment, George's spontaneous rejection of marriage to Honour is signalled and contextualised. It's a nasty trick on Murray-Smith's part, and brilliantly directed by Paul Robinson, it works to drive a partition between the trio at the centre of the play. 

Imogen Stubbs puts on an impressive display of emotional gymnastics as Honour. One of the downfalls of Honour is that it is realistic to a fault, and Murray-Smith has characters mull over the same points, the same arguments, the same heartbreaks, again and again. Yet Stubbs brings so much truth to the titular character, and watching her navigate George's bombshell announcement and reboot her life as a response is extremely empowering.

Imogen Stubbs and Henry Goodman in Honour
Photo credit - Alex Brenner

But Honour isn't just the name of the character at the heart of Murray-Smith's play. It's also the thing which is meditated on heavily throughout. Should George honour his decades long marriage to a wife he has fallen out of love with? Looking at the play in black and white terms, the answer should be a simple yes, but the characters have more nuance than that, and so it's hard to take any character's side. 

Henry Goodman is so annoyingly charming as adulterous George that it's hard to hate him for what he does. At times it seems that even the script is keen to give him the benefit of the doubt and villainise Claudia instead. 

In fact, Honour paints a rather nasty picture of ambition in its female characters. George's wife is put down by others for losing her ambition and settling, and yet Claudia's ambition is so laser focused that she becomes rather two dimensional in her ruthlessness. Whilst Honour's love for George is based on their shared experiences and their history, Claudia seems so conniving and false in her feelings for George that her ruthlessness quickly morphs into her defining feature.

Natalie Simpson and Henry Goodman in Honour
Photo credit - Alex Brenner

You get the sense that if the play was written today Claudia might be at the centre of it, allowing for a more three dimensional study of female ambition in a male dominated profession. Katie Brayben certainly ingeniously moulds the script around the picture of a woman hardened by a sphere which refuses to embrace her ambition, and she radiates a bold addictive energy in every one of her scenes, but there's only so much she can do to humanise Claudia. 

The strength of the cast is what elevates Honour, an otherwise slightly regressive drama. It's a fascinating conversation starter of a play, and the subject matter is still very relevant today, but attitudes have changed in the 23 years since it was first performed, and a fairer exploration of what drives Claudia and George to their affair would elevate the piece enormously. 

Review - A Very Very Very Dark Matter (Bridge Theatre)

In Martin McDonagh's latest dark comedy, beloved storyteller Hans Christian Andersen is outed as a fraud. The writer of fantastical children's stories is framed a bumbling, fame hungry buffoon, whose creations are penned instead by a 'one-footed, Congolese pygmy woman' named Ogechi, or as Andersen renames her, Marjory. Much nonsense ensues, as time travelling Belgians stalk Andersen and his enslaved ghost writer, and Charles Dickens is even brought along for the ride too.

Jim Broadbent in A Very Very Very Dark Matter

Photo credit - Manuel Harlan

The elements of a parodic romp are all present, but unfortunately the story is weighed down by too much padding which aims for daring and provocative, but lands somewhere a bit closer to mind bogglingly scattergun and, at times, downright insensitive.  

From the very beginning, A Very Very Very Dark Matter feels unfocused. Tom Waits cameos as a prerecorded narrator, rumbling out some slow, teasing narration, as a small box is revealed on stage, surrounded by a cluttered mess of puppets, toys and other random artifacts. Inside the box sits Ogechi, the author of every one of Andersen's greatest works, according to McDonough. Hell-bent on travelling through time to prevent the colonisation of the Congo, she sits and waits for her fate to kick into motion, writing fairy tales partially to pass the time and partially as the insistence of Andersen, her captor. 

The cast of A Very Very Very Dark Matter
Photo credit - Manuel Harlan

What is most frustrating about A Very Very Very Dark Matter is that it feels like a missed opportunity. Tonally, it balances its over-the-top dark fun very well. Jokes about Hans Christian Andersen leaving Marjory 14 sausages to eat whilst he jaunts off to London for a fortnight feel particularly apt, as they mock the performative benevolence of Andersen, and by extension, seem to hint towards the unapologetic advancement of the West running parallel to the late 19th century colonisation in the Congo.

Andersen's extended visit to the home of Charles Darwin and his foul mouthed family is also rather entertaining, thanks in no small part to the excellent combination of Phil Daniels as an exasperated Dickens and Jim Broadbent as the oblivious Andersen, who seems completely unaware of the nuisance he causes within the fractured Dickens household. Johnetta Eula’Mae Ackles is also a complete delight as Ogechi, a rough and tough foil for the rather more childish, oblivious Andersen.

Johnetta Eula’Mae Ackles in A Very Very Very Dark Matter 
Photo credit - Manuel Harlan

The story is just too bizarre to be meaningful though. During the nineteenth century, Europe was embroiled in all manner of atrocities around the globe, therefore it feels rather belittling to fabricate such an absurd fiction around Hans Christian Andersen and Charles Dickens, as opposed to the real life historical figures who had a real tangible hand in the colonisation of the Congo. 

A Very Very Very Dark Matter tries far too hard to come across as clever and knowing, and just ends up thoroughly confusing its audience. 

Review - Soldier On (The Other Palace)

Inspired by the real life stories of service men and women, Soldier On is a brutally honest look at the effect a life in the military has on a person, their friends, and their family.

The cast of Soldier On
Photo credit - Tom Grace

Soldier On takes the form of a play within a play, which sees a variety of members of the military community coming together to share their stories. Coaxed on by passionate director Harry, they share the ups and downs of their relationship with the military, and chip away at each other's stories in order to reveal the unspoken truths at the heart of each tale.

It feels right that such an intimate story, which carries a remarkable resonance and truth, is performed by a cast is made up of ex-service personnel alongside professional actors from the Soldiers' Arts Academy. The characters, a rather ragtag mix, feel extremely real and lived-in, and bolster the play's starkness excellently.

With such a large ensemble, each with their own very different history to tell, and their own problems to face, the story becomes a little formulaic at times. At the beginning of the acting company's first rehearsal they sit in a circle and each person takes it in turns to recount why they wanted to be a part of the play in the first place. The stories are all touching and knowing that they are based on real testimonial makes them really quite interesting, but as the rest of Soldier On focuses on the translation of their stories from real life to the stage, at times the plot feels a little repetitive and formulaic.

The cast are uniformly excellent, with particularly devastating performances from Ellie Nunn as Sophie, the wife of a soldier with PTSD, who is struggling to keep her family together. Her bubbly, overly smiley exterior, showcased at the very beginning when she auditions to be a part of the play singing Taylor Swift's Shake It Off, is chipped at as she opens up to her fellow castmates, as the results are extremely cutting. Nicholas Clarke is equally impressive in the dual roles of Jacko, a fellow cast mate and ex serviceman, who takes on the role of Sophie's husband Donny throughout the piece too.

Writer and director Jonathan Lewis has tapped a story which is as hopeful as it is harrowing. There's certainly no sugarcoating, but the play is full of humour and light, and whilst it tells some frankly unbelievably distressing stories, it's an ultimately very uplifting piece.

Review - Nightfall (Bridge Theatre)

In Nightfall playwright Barney Norris paints a blistering portrait of a family in crisis, and agonisingly explores a mother's attempts to keep her family together after tragedy threatens to pull them apart.

The cast of Nightfall
Photo credit - Manuel Harlan

It begins with an idyllic night, 3 childhood friends (Ryan, his sister Lou, and her old flame Pete, Ryan's childhood best friend), doctoring a hose to syphon oil from a pipe running through the back garden of Ryan and Lou's family farm. The opening scene sets place at nightfall, as the title helpfully suggests, and Chris Davey's lighting design sees a murky sunset cast its light across the long back wall of the Bridge Theatre. There's an air of discomfort, uncertainty, from the outset, but it's pushed aside to make room for folksy chats about astrology, drowned in beer which the uneasy party swig from the bottle. That is until a pair of bright white headlights signal the arrival of Ryan and Lou's mother, Jenny. Chastising her grown children like misbehaving toddlers, Her icy entrance ushers in a new wave of awkwardness, and from then on in there's not a second when the 4 aren't treading on eggshells, each straining in a different direction like magnets repelling one another.

The meaning behind what is insinuated by the awkwardness of the first scene is slowly unravelled. Amid the quaint yet ramshackle farmland of rural South England, artfully indicated by Rae Smith's bucolic set design, the 4 characters in Barney Norris’ Nightfall are struggling to open up to each other about the shared traumas which have tightly knotted them all to each other. The audience is quickly informed that Ryan and Lou's father recently passed away, leaving a hole in both of their lives, as well as a burden of responsibility to their family farm, but there's much more going on under the surface.

They’re a deeply damaged group, hiding their pains under strained smiles and posturing niceties, but it doesn’t take long for their truths to come to light. Smug yet lovable Pete recently did time for drunkenly punching and subsequently paralysing someone, frazzled Lou feels directionless, domineering Jenny is still coming to terms with the death of her husband and the debt he left her in, and Ryan, the introverted de facto 'man of the house', is slowly receding further and further into the secluded island of the family farm, whilst simultaneously detesting it. One of the strongest aspects of Nightfall is the way in which every character is dissected in front of the audience. On the bleak and remote farm there is nowhere for the fragmented party to hide, and as such, as they hurtle towards self-destruction, the audience can do nothing but observe.

Ophelia Lovibond and Ukweli Roach in Nightfall
Photo credit Manuel Harlan

Directed by Laurie Sansom, the cast of 4 do an excellent job of propelling the plot, with Ophelia Lovibond making a particularly strong mark as Lou, whose journey to escape the oppressive grasp of her mother leads her to a whirlwind marriage and relocation halfway around the world, which she’s not even sure she wants. Her desperation and dissatisfaction with life cuts sharply through the mugginess of the plot, and is utterly and strikingly believable. Sion Daniel Young is also endearing as Ryan, his pain and grief tangible from the moment he first opens his mouth. At the beginning of the play Ryan seems just a little bit pitiful alongside his more boisterous friend and sharp sister, but by the end he's a haunted shell of a young man, utterly racked with sadness. One gets the sense that he's been bossed around and babied by his mother so much that he's retreated into a childlike state as a coping mechanism in response to the death of his father. It's understated amid the big and loud arguments between Lou and her mother, but heartbreaking nevertheless. Elsewhere, Ukweli Roach gives smug yet lovable Pete energy and defiance needed to set him apart from the doldrums of the farm, and Claire Skinner does well to humanise the detestable matriarch Jenny, although Norris' script notably does little to help her out. 

Despite the painfully realistic plights presented in Norris’ play, the meaning of the piece as a whole never quite materialises in full. The characters all go through relatable life experiences, but none of them really take the foreground. The most prominent thread which runs through the play is that of responsibility, as explored through Ryan and Lou's rejection of their responsibility to protect the family farm, and Jenny’s overprotectiveness, born of responsibility to her family and her husband’s memory. But the idea is crowded by so many other themes and ideas, all jostling against one another, and as such it feels rather diluted for the majority of the play. 

Nightfall builds towards a rather inevitable bittersweet finale, but after the rumblings of secrecy and dissatisfaction which filter through from the very first scene, it feels as if both the characters and the audience expect a more explosive ending.

Review - Trap Street (New Diorama Theatre)

Beginning its tale in the 1960s, theatre company Kandinsky's Trap Street tells the story of one of the first families to move into a new flat on a fictional London estate named after Jane Austen. Frazzled matriarch Valerie, who dotes on her eldest son and constantly chastised her younger daughter, takes it upon herself to start building a community, and as the play jumps between past and present the lives of Valerie and her children are imprinted onto the building. Cut to the present day and Valerie's daughter Andrea returns to England after a long stay in Spain, keen to settle back into the flat where she grew up. The only problem is that the once bustling community of the Austen Estate is now gone, and has been replaced by an eerie emptiness, as property guardians dutifully inhabit the block until it is developed into luxury apartments. 

The cast of Trap Street
Photo credit - Richard Davenport

With a running time of just 80 minutes, Trap Street should feel sprightly, especially as it is comprised of a bunch of short scenes which continuously switch from the 1960s to present day and back again. It should cast sympathy on main character Andrea, the put upon youngest child of a pushy mother who's desperation to escape her family home is, over time, replaced with a need to preserve it. However, despite an interesting host of characters, unquestionably strong performances and a continually apt subject matter, Trap Street lacks focus and fails to make any fresh points or suggest any possible solutions to the societal issues it highlights. 

It also feels unnecessarily long, and spends a lot of time showing the audience how unlikable both Andrea and her mother are in their individual timelines. In one scene Amanda visits a swanky modern real estate agent, and is duped into trying out a virtual tour of one of the £700,000 flats which will replace her old home. She stumbles around the office wearing a VR headset whilst hipster estate agents look on bemusedly. Zac Gvirtzman's slow and nostalgic live score twinkles sadly, telling the audience to feel sorry for the woman. But it's very hard to do so. Ballooning London living costs are a fact of life nowadays, and it's hard to feel anything other than apathy towards that fact. 

Of course, the overarching message of the piece is clear from the beginning; pricing working class families out of the homes they grew up in is frankly terrible, and gentrification certainly fosters a very different neighbourhood, very unlike the tight knit communities which are so fondly reminisced about. But Trap Street says very little else about the current housing crisis, and so whilst Kandinsky's stimulus is compelling, the finished play feels underpowered, with many avenues left unexplored.

Interview - Belinda Lang (Duet For One)

When asked for a brief overview of her career, Belinda Lang admits, 'I've been doing this for over 40 years, I suppose I must have been in dozens and dozens and dozens of plays, and a lot of telly as well, so I really don't think I can summarise it'. An enviable answer, and totally founded. Lang has been working as an actor since 1980, and made a name for herself in the 90s, in sitcoms Seconds Thoughts and 2point4 Children. Since then her CV has filled up with a massive variety of roles across several different mediums. In fact, you may have seen her earlier this year as Aunt Eller, in the BBC's Oklahoma Proms, reprising the role she played on tour a few years ago. And now she's returning to the stage yet again, to play Stephanie Abrahams in the UK tour of Tom Kempinski's award-winning play Duet For One. 

Based loosely on the real life musician Jacqueline du Pré, Duet For One is the sparkling and moving story of concert a violinist who is forced to consult a psychiatrist after being diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis, a life changing disease which forces her to reevaluate her life. Being a two hander, focusing on such an affecting subject, it's interesting to hear Lang describe the play as 'actually quite funny', before adding, 'you wouldn't think it would be.' In fact, despite playing a character whose life has been shaken by such a significant health issue, Lang maintains that Duet For One is not an upsetting play to watch or be a part of.  'Of course it's moving in that it's about a person who is struggling, but she's a very feisty woman and it's the not MS that going to get her. She's not dying. She's dealing with her life, and she goes about it in a very spirited fashion'. It seems as if Lang has a lot of admiration for the character she plays, which is understandable. Especially as she adds 'it's not a play about somebody in decline, it's a play about someone learning to live with themselves as they are, rather than as they thought they were going to be.'

Due to the two hander nature of the play, Duet For One has its own specific set of challenges, not least because sharing the stage with just one other actor is hugely exposing. Even when the actor opposite you is wildly successful writer and actor Oliver Cotton. Lang explains that 'every play brings different challenges', before elaborating that 'the main challenge in this [play] is learning it, because there are only two of us so there's a lot to take in, but it's very well written so once you know it it kind of sweeps you along.' That being said, she does joke that 'it's hard remembering it all in the right order!' It's surprising and heartening to hear such a seasoned actor talk so candidly and humbly about the challenges which such a play presents, with Lang admitting that 'you can't not concentrate for a single second, and of course, when you're in a play you should be concentrating, but it's frightening to know that if you drop your concentration then the whole thing could hit the deck.'

Belinda Lang in Duet For One

Understandably, the two-hander nature of the play affects the dynamic of the relationships between actors on stage, but interesting Lang explains that it also alters the connection between the actors and audience too. 'It's very personal. The fact that there's only two of us, and the fact that it's a conversation, sucks the audience into it. They get drawn in like a vortex, and when the bits come that are quite quiet you can feel the concentration. They concentrate with you, and they go through the process with you, which they might not so much if it was dissipated by other scenes and other characters. They do seem to come on a journey with us.' 

And it's that journey which Lang describes as Duet For One's main selling point Particularly in regards to her character's exploration of her feelings, and attitudes towards her new life. Lang describes how' 'a lot of people either have been through therapy, or haven't and wonder what it's like, and this does give you a sort of bird's eye view of what can happen. Therapy is a space to explore your feelings, some of which are aggressive, and it's a safe place to let off steam. I think people who've been there would recognise it, and for other people it's quite interesting. A revelation.' 

Review - Our Ladies of Perpetual Succour (Duke of York's Theatre)

'Let's go f*cking mental!' scream the unruly catholic schoolgirls of Our Ladies of Perpetual Succour as they're set free from the confines of their quiet hometown for the day. Ferried into Edinburgh for a choir competition, the rowdy friends shed their stuffy uniforms and embark on an unforgettable day of drinking and partying. Hooches are downed, friendships are tested, and each girl is confronted with the realities of their lives, and their futures beyond high school. 

The cast of Our Ladies of Perpetual Succour
Photo credit - Manuel Harlan 

Best known for writing the screenplay and subsequent stage adaptation of Billy Elliot, Lee Hall has adapted Alan Warner's book The Sopranos into an exuberant and uninhibited play, which bubbles with youthful abandon. Featuring a cast of 6, who play a multitude of different characters in addition to their named roles, and an additional 3 musicians, Our Ladies of Perpetual Succour is brought to life with relentlessly energy which it's impossible not to be totally drawn in by. 

It's so heartening to see 6 female characters on stage, all of whom have completely different, and perfectly defined personalities. Far from dainty school girl stereotypes, each of the choir girls of Our Ladies of Perpetual Succour as feisty, fleshed out and relatable as the next one. It's almost cathartic to see such realistic depictions of young women on stage. 

In addition to Lee Hall's magnetic book, as a play with music Our Ladies of Perpetual Succour benefits from some spine tingling musical performances numbers, performed by the blazingly talented company. Most notably, their adrenalized rendition of ELO's Mr Blue Sky is so energetic, peppy and audacious that it's impossible to resist. 

Most notably though, is that what's so magical about the story is how unremarkable it is in the grand scheme of things. Yes, in real life it's unlikely that 6 school girls could fit so much drinking, chatting and emotional cleansing into one day, but the way the girls interact within the play, the antics they get up to and the struggles they face are far from unheard of in schools up and down the country. Our Ladies of Perpetual Succour portrays young women at their most unguarded, and subsequently each character feels completely real, each action totally justified. 

At times the play feels almost like a rock concert, with blaring music, frenzied choreography and performances which frequently border on manic. It's a full throttle hour and forty five minutes, which jolts its audience through hilarious highs and crushing lows, and never lets up, even for a second. Unmissable is most definitely the word to describe Our Ladies of Perpetual Succour. It's a swirling riot of unbridled teenage spirit which will have you laughing one minute and crying the very next. Grab a ticket, and get ready to go f*cking mental!

Visit ourladiestheplay.co.uk for more information

Review - Out Of Order (UK Tour)

Playwright and actor Ray Cooney is celebrating an unbelievable 70 years in show business, and what better way to do it than with an updated version of his award winning 1990 farce Out Of Order. Having enjoyed a long run on the West End and bagged the 1991 Olivier Award for comedy, it's clear that, at least 25 or so years ago, Cooney's own brand of farcical comedy was hitting the spot for some. Unfortunately though, in 2017 Out Of Order has lost the charm it must have once possessed, and feels decidedly stale. 

James Holmes and Andrew Hall in Out Of Order
Photo credit - Darren Bell

Starring a cast of well-known faces such as Andrew Hall, Shaun Williamson and James Holmes, the comedy follows the antics of Conservative junior minister Richard 'Dickie' Willey, as he attempts to cover up an affair with Jane Worthington, a typist for the Labour Party, after a body is found wedged in the sash window of their hotel room. Hijinks ensue of course, and as the slimy politician tries his best to cover up his indiscretions as best he can, more and more people are dragged into the mayhem. Misunderstandings, malfunctions and mistaken identity give Out Of Order plenty of promise, but unfortunately the play never really elevates above its predictable beginnings, and as such it becomes a trouncing slog, with an overblown runtime padded by unsavoury jokes, and plenty of sexism and homophobia thrown in for good measure. 

The fact that the play begins by introducing the audience to 'Mr Willey' should be all the warning anyone could need that Out Of Order's brash humour isn't exactly for everyone. Certainly plenty of mileage is gotten from the unfortunate surname of the smarmy politician protagonist. The production may boast an updated script, which brings the political aspects of the play into 2017, however while references to May, Corbyn, Trump, and Twitter come thick and fast, all in all Out Of Order feels hugely outdated, with its broad, in yer face, and decidedly unmodish jokes not helping in the slightest. 

Slightly troubling for this updated version is the misogynistic language and content, which jars considerably in 2017. All three female characters are presented as nagging annoyances who double up as sex mad fanatics, ready to jump into bed with the first man who asks. Additionally, and equally uncomfortably, laughs are elicited from the outraged gasps of the hotel's stuffy manager, when he mistakenly believes he has discovered two men engaging in a sexual act in a hotel room, and subsequently insists that they leave. It's clearly meant to be a bit of fun, but comes across as mean spirited for the most part.

The success of companies like Mischief Theatre has proven that there is still very much an appetite for farce when done right, but Out Of Order has sadly not been given a sharp enough update, and feels decidedly out of place in 2017. The star cast perform gamely, and throw themselves into the chaos, especially in the second act, but when all is said and done this painfully old fashioned comedy is pretty indefensible.

For more information go to cooneyonstage.com

Review - The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time (UK Tour)

It's been 5 years since The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time first bounded onto stage at the National Theatre. An adaptation of Mark Haddon's ever popular novel, The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time has enjoyed just as much acclaim as its source material, having bagged the Olivier Award for Best New Play in 2013, along with 6 other Olivier Awards including Best Sound Design, Lighting Design and Set Design. With such prestige, it's easy to understand why the show is currently embarking on its second UK tour. 

Scott Reid and the cast of The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time UK Tour
Photo credit - Brinkhoff Moegenburg

The play follows Christopher Boone, a fifteen year old boy with Asperger Syndrome, who finds his next door neighbour's dog murdered one evening and decides to try and find out who is responsible, despite his father's objections. Simon Stephens' adaptation does well to maintain many of the elements that made the original text so compelling. Christopher's investigation is intriguing, but it's his relationships with others which drive the play to deep emotional depths. 

The lead role of Christopher Boone is a challenging one, both emotionally and physically, and so the stamina and agility of actor Scott Reid must be acknowledged. Christopher's relationship with his parents is very much at the forefront of The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time, and actors Emma Beattie and David Michaels do a terrific job of portraying two sides of a family torn apart. The play does not shy away from the tests associated with raising a child with Asperger Syndrome, and in fact, some of its deeper emotional weight stems from the audience witnessing Christopher's parents' distress. Nevertheless, The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time is all the better for its honesty. When Christopher shares his dreams for the future (to complete his A levels and then go to university and finally become a scientist) he asks his mentor whether she thinks he can do anything he wants to do. Her silence is more than enough to wrench the guts of the captivated audience. 

Bunnie Christie's award winning set design is a brilliant addition to an already excellent play. Although it is rather calculated and clinical, reflecting Christopher's passion for maths, when it comes to life it is a marvel. Appearing at first to be rather basic, a brightly lit square box surrounded on 3 sides by black video projection screens, it soon becomes apparent that the stage is much more multifaceted than first imagined, with multiple hidden doors, cupboards, and even a full desk sliding out of one of the back panels. The set is also littered with hundreds of LED lights, which work alongside the aforementioned video projection to create a sort of tech based wonderland, inhabited by scarpering dogs, where prime numbers fall as precipitation. There are several instances where all of the play's technical elements come together and are combined with fluid movement pieces choreographed by Frantic Assembly's Scott Graham and Steven Hoggett, resulting in some eye popping and electrifying sequences.

Pacey and full of surprises, it's hard to imagine a play more polished than The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time. Simon Stephens' adaptation perfectly balances the light-hearted with the heart-breaking, resulting in a painfully beautiful play which is nigh on impossible to fault. A must see!

Find out more information by visiting www.curiousonstage.com/tour

Review - The Full Monty (UK Tour)

Fans of the 1997 cult hit rejoice! Screenwriter Steven Beaufoy's stage adaptation of The Full Monty is just as riotous and racy as its film counterpart, with plenty of gags and an uplifting ending that will have audiences cheering and whooping in their seats!

The cast of The Full Monty
Photo credit - Matt Crockett

For those who are somehow unfamiliar with the critically lauded film, set in post-industrial Sheffield, The Full Monty tells the story of six out of work men who decide to form a striptease act as a way to make money. The idea is the brainchild of Gaz, an ex-steelworker struggling to  pay child support, who ropes in his best friend Dave, a former crane operator, and his young son Nathan, and together the trio recruit a ragtag group of down on their luck gents to complete the Chippendale-esque line-up.

The story lives or dies on the believability of the bond between its ensemble cast, and thankfully The Full Monty tour is cast excellently. The fellowship of the characters is reflected in the brilliantly believable chemistry between the actors, who work together very well, and manage to avoid falling into the trap of just impersonating the iconic performances of their onscreen counterparts. While hardly a dead ringer for Robert Carlyle, Gary Lucy, star of soaps such as Hollyoaks, Eastenders and The Bill is charmingly scrappy as Gaz, while Kai Owen is dynamic and convincing as Dave, who has his relationship and body confidence issues. The pair's bromance is extremely true to life, and it's refreshing to see such a heartfelt friendship portrayed on stage. 

The rest of the cast is just as brilliant, with Andrew Dunn's pitiable straight man Gerald getting plenty of sympathy as well as his fair share of chuckles, and Louis Emerick giving a downplayed but hilarious performance as Horse, meanwhile Anthony Lewis is thoroughly endearing as suicidal security guard Lomper and Chris Fountain is a great final addition to the line-up as confidant and well-endowed Guy. The group bare all, both literally and figuratively, as not only does The Full Monty tell the story of a group of wannabe strippers, it also touches on some enduringly pertinent issues such as homosexuality, depression, suicide, worker's rights, and body image. Despite the frivolity of the main story, the undercurrent of bleakness and insecurity which marred the late 1980s is very much apparent. Despite this The Full Monty is first and foremost a cheeky but never lascivious feel good story with tons of laughs and buckets of heart. 

There's a unique and irresistible nostalgia elicited from plays like The Full Monty, set at a time when life was incredibly rough for a large number of people, and featuring a bunch of normal folks from working class backgrounds who band together to make the best of a bad situation. This has been played out time and time again, with another similar notable example being Billy Elliot which achieved widespread success at the cinema and in the theatre too. But the sense of community portrayed in shows like Billy Elliot, The Full Monty and many other stories, is timeless. 

In this day and age, when the country seems divided yet again, The Full Monty is a great reflection of the solidarity which people can almost always rely on in times of need, making a tour of this particular show timely indeed. The play doesn't really bring anything new to the table, so fans of the film should adjust their expectations accordingly, but it is great fun nonetheless, and with plenty of cheekiness dispersed throughout, it has its fair share of fresh laughs and a big finish which does not disappoint! Hot stuff indeed...

Review - The Twentieth Century Way (Jermyn Street Theatre)

Tom Jacobson’s calculated and intuitive The Twentieth Century Way is unassuming yet intriguing, and jolts to life in its UK premier, under the direction of Marylynne Anderson-Cooper.

James Sindall and Fraser Wall as Warren and Brown
Photo credit - Laura Hyatt

Two actors waiting for an audition engage in a drawn out, high stakes improvisation exercise. The characters that they invent for themselves; police employed ‘vice specialists’ Brown and Warren, embark on a undercover operation to root out homosexual men within the elite of 1914 Long Beach society, by enticing men to engage in blowjobs (also known as ‘the twentieth century way’ owing to their prevalence as a result of increased public cleanliness at the beginning of the twentieth century) in public bathrooms before marking them with a black cross and arresting them for social vagrancy. While inventing and exploring a multitude of different roles, Brown and Warren begin to empathise with their characters, and a harrowing element of gay rights history bubbles to the forefront.

As the improvisation goes on, the pair find themselves inventing more and more new characters, and switch between them at such a pace that it almost becomes impossible to tell where Brown and Warren end and their creations begin. In fact, at points is seems like even they forget, albeit briefly, that their exercise is just a game. The resulting performances are enthralling, with a sustained tenseness permeating the whole piece.

Inescapable tenseness is amplified by Peter Harrison’s evocative lighting, meanwhile Joyce Rose Anne Robustelli’s fine production design, complete with canny suggestive costume elements which help to keep the audience up to speed with the often frantic switching of characters and locations, is simplistic yet aesthetically effective.

Actors Fraser Wall and James Sindall play off each other extraordinarily well, with Wall bringing an absorbing nervous energy to Brown, while Sindall’s stoicism as Warren is interspersed with moments of terseness, adding yet another layer to the piece. As a duo they are exciting to watch, seamlessly switching from one character to another and relying on their canny audience keep up with them. The brisk pace is handled deftly, and clarity is almost always present.  

At times though, The Twentieth Century Way’s gay rights focus is overshadowed by the piece’s framing device, and the overarching exploration of acting as an art form does occasionally derail the characters' fabricated plot at critical moments.

Crucially though, The Twentieth Century Way simmers with riveting tension before delivering a surprising final twist. It rewards its shrewd audience members with a satisfying finale, and despite moments of wittiness, maintains a fitting solemnity throughout.

For more information about this production of The Twentieth Century Way, visit www.jermynstreettheatre.co.uk/show/twentieth-century-way

Review - The Woman in Black (UK Tour)

The Woman in Black is a tale which is so ingrained in popular culture that even the mention of its name has people jumping behind their sofas in fear. Originally published as a novella in 1983 by author Susan Hill, the story was later adapted into a stage play by Stephen Mallatratt. The play opened in London in 1989 where it has played ever since. Not content with having terrified audiences in London for 27 years, the production is currently touring the UK for over the dozenth time, and chilling audiences up and down the country in the process. 

The story is framed as a play within a play. Set inside a Victorian theatre, an elderly lawyer named Arthur Kipps seeks out the the assistance of a young actor to help him tell a story which he's kept to himself for many years. Despite Kipp's initial resistance to the idea of staging his horrific tale in the form of a play for entertainment's sake, he eventually relents and allows the young actor to assume the role of Kipps in the retelling, while Kipps himself takes on the supporting roles within the story. 

The audience is then transported back to many years before, and the story of The Woman in Black begins. It is revealed that the woman is a ghostly presence which resides within the neglected grounds of Eel Marsh House, in the North Eastern town of Crythin Gifford. Kipps recalls a time many years ago when he was sent to the bleak town to attend the funeral of a client, Mrs Alice Drablow, and to get all of her papers in order. However, upon his arrival he senses a feeling of foreboding in the town, and soon discovers why. Alice Drablow's house is seemingly haunted by a mysterious woman with a wasted face, dressed all in black, whose presence signifies an unspeakable danger to all those residing in Crythin Gifford! 

The play is executed well by actors David Acton as Kipps and Matthew Spencer as The Actor. Their ability to evoke a sense of uneasiness and dread is paramount to the success of the play, and they exercise incredible stamina in the roles, sustaining just enough tension throughout to ensure that the finale is an intense and jarring explosion of terror. An amazing feat for two actors who spend the majority of the play alone on an almost bare stage. Of course, they are aided by shapes and shadows half seen, noises half heard, and the audience's imagination itself. Half of the fun and horror of The Woman in Black is trying to establish what is real and what is just a trick of the light or senses being mislead.  

The production does therefore make great use of lighting and sound design. Despite most of the action taking place on a stage adorned with just a coat rack, stool as wicker basket, the production uses a gauze to cleverly convey the shadowy crevices of Eel Marsh House. The stage magic seen in The Woman in Black is delightfully archaic and helps to plant the production clearly within the Victorian era. It's a nice touch to see Kipps and The Actor marvel at recorded sound playing in the theatre, and indeed the sound design, while simplistic, is very effective. 

In fact The Woman in Black is at its spookiest when it's at its subtlest. The sound of a rocking chair listing rhythmically in the next room, the mystery of an ominous locked door, and the haunting screams of ghostly unseen figures all cause an eeriness which is much more unsettling than any sighting of the woman herself. Nevertheless, some outright jump scares also serve to startle. 

Although at some points the scares do seem a little bit obvious, there's no denying that The Woman in Black is a chilling night out with jumps aplenty and an ending which will send a shivers down the spine! 

The Woman in Black is currently playing in London's Fortune Theatre as well as touring the UK. For more information on tour dates and to book tickets visit the show's website.