Author: Bouquets & Brickbats

Vanya: National Theatre Live

23/02/24

Cameo Cinema, Edinburgh

I have previously been somewhat baffled by the general adulation heaped upon Andrew Scott. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve always thought him a perfectly decent actor, but have somehow failed to appreciate the full depths of his talent.

Until now.

Simon Stephens’ brilliant adaptation of Anton Chekov’s Uncle Vanya features seven characters in a complex tale of a family’s interactions on a remote country estate. All of them are played – perhaps inhabited would be a more accurate word – by Scott. There’s no recourse to any costume changes and the set design amounts to little more than a series of chairs, a piano and a doorway. Scott slips effortlessly from one character to the next, using only slight modulations of voice and tiny mannerisms to tell me instantly who he is at any given moment. The effect is uncanny. The term tour de force is often used but I’ve rarely seen it so consummately earned.

Credit should also go to Stephens, whose script strips the story back to its basics (and slightly updates it) so that all the characters’ motivations are clear from the outset – and to director Sam Yates who keeps the whole enterprise beautifully understated, so that it flows from scene to scene like honey in a heatwave. But the lion’s share of the accolades must go to Scott, who is mesmerising in every role: pompous and self-aggrandising at Aleksandr Sebryakov, the retired professor still obsessed with working on his latest project; smooth and sensual as Aleksandr’s young wife Helena; and painfully self-conscious as his daughter Sofia, who has always been told that she’s ‘plain’.

He’s delightfully gossipy as Maria – the mother of the titular Ivan (Vanya), a hard working man who has selflessly devoted himself to supporting Aleksandr, whom he has idolised since childhood – and wonderfully tragic as Mikhail, the middle-aged country doctor who is desperately in love with Helena.

And finally, he is comically ingratiating as Ilya, an impoverished landowner, now dependent on the goodwill of the Sebryakov family. A delightful running joke has us (and the rest of the cast) forgetting that he’s there, observing everything that happens.

If this sounds hopelessly complicated on paper, fear not. The wonder of this National Theatre Live production is the way in which it glides like gossamer through the cuts and thrusts of a family drama, where even a scene where Scott is obliged to make love to himself unfolds like a dream. Throw in a rendition of Jacques Brel’s heartbreaking ballad If You Go Away and I’m completely sold, a convert to Scott’s evident talent.

Vanya – and Scott – are both extraordinary. If you get the opportunity to see this, I urge you to take it.

5 stars

Philip Caveney

James Acaster: Hecklers Welcome

22/02/24

Edinburgh Playhouse

I can’t complain: I get exactly what I pay for. “Hecklers Welcome” is written right there in big letters. Forewarned is forearmed and all that. But still, I leave the Edinburgh Playhouse tonight feeling disappointed and frustrated. James Acaster might welcome hecklers. It turns out that I don’t.

This show is Acaster’s response to his lockdown realisation that he wasn’t enjoying doing stand-up. That icky feeling waiting in the wings? Not excitement, after all – just nerves. And the audiences, peppered with hecklers and latecomers? They were getting under his skin. Emerging into the post-COVID landscape, the serenity prayer seems to have been his inspiration.

Accept the things he cannot change: hecklers gonna heckle.

So find the courage to alter what he can: his own response.

It’s an interesting social experiment. He’s got more than two hours of finely-crafted material; we can hear it if we want to. It’s all down to our collective will. Sadly, tonight’s three-thousand-strong crowd has more than its fair share of dickheads. I know from social media that there were barely any hecklers yesterday, and that the show ran on until 10.20pm. This evening, the shouter-outers dominate the second half with their inanities. This is why we’re not allowed nice things. Acaster bows out gracefully at 9.45pm.

The first half of the show is as excellent as you’d expect. Acaster is a huge talent, and this show is a fascinating exploration of his love-hate relationship with comedy – an origins-tale, if you like – examining formative experiences such as school assemblies, disastrous dog shows and cub scout membership. It’s all building nicely…

And then: “Poppodoms or bread?” “You’re using the wrong hand!” “It was a Friday!”

Ad infinitum.

They’re like rubbish graffiti artists scrawling their names over a beautiful building. I’m seething. Shut the fuck up.

Acaster takes it in his stride. That’s the rule. It’s only our own time we’re wasting. He’s a five-star comic, but this is a three-star experience. We never get to hear the denouement. Sometimes, other people suck.

3 stars

Susan Singfield

Passages

21/02/24

MUBI

Film director Tomas (Franz Rogowski) is a bit of a shit. His tyranny is evident as soon as we encounter him on set in Paris, berating an actor for failing to display exactly the right amount of nonchalance when walking downstairs. At the wrap party, we learn that the actor is also his husband, Martin (Ben Whishaw), which sets the alarm bells ringing. Just how toxic is their relationship?

Very, it turns out. Martin isn’t really in the mood to party, so Tomas hooks up with Agathe (Adèle Exarchopoulos), a school teacher/film extra. Suddenly, he’s in love with her – and moving out of the marital flat. But when Martin tries to move on too, Tomas proves reluctant to let him go. Before long, he’s got both Martin and Agathe miserably dancing to his tune. Like I said – he’s a shit.

Directed by Ira Sachs, Passages is a fascinating study of unapologetic selfishness. The performances from all three leads are intense and engaging, and Whishaw and Exarchopoulos elicit great sympathy for their characters. However, although Rogowski inhabits the role convincingly, Tomas is so utterly awful from the outset that there’s very little progression. We just see a man behaving badly, over and over – demanding too much from the people he claims to love, while never giving anything in return. I find myself frustrated by both Martin and Agathe’s willingness to indulge him. I’m literally shouting at the screen: “Just tell him no!” (I’m watching this at home, not at the cinema, so the shouting is okay – although I’m not sure that the neighbours agree…)

The world-building is exquisite: there’s no obvious exposition; we’re simply dropped into the characters’ lives, mid-story – but we’re never in any doubt as to what is going on. It’s adroitly done.

There’s no denying the fact that Passages is well directed and beautifully acted – but it’s a film to admire rather than enjoy.

3.4 stars

Susan Singfield

Dream Scenario

20/02/24

Amazon Prime

Over a long and varied career, Nicolas Cage has developed a reputation for embracing weird movie projects, and writer/director Kristoffer Borgli’s Dream Scenario certainly fits that description – even if Paul Matthews, a rumpled professor of Zoology at an obscure university, appears to be the most normal guy in the world. Released in 2023, the film barely got a look in at the multiplexes and, having missed it there, I’ve been eager for it to start streaming. It’s finally available to rent on Amazon Prime, and I have to say, it is worth the wait. This bizarre, complex and occasionally shocking film has more twists and turns than the proverbial python on itching powder.

It begins (hardly surprisingly, given the title) when Paul listens to an account of a dream that his daughter, Sophie (Lily Bird), has experienced the night before – a dream in which she is floating helplessly skyward while her father sweeps up leaves in the garden and pays absolutely no attention to her plight. Paul feels weirdly guilty about his inability to do anything to help her, but older daughter Hannah (Jessica Clement) and Paul’s wife, Janet (Juliet Nicholson), assure him he’s just being paranoid.

But then other people start having dreams about Paul and in all of them, he’s just standing there, watching. As these dream scenarios become more common, a bewildered Paul finds himself featuring in the dreams of most of the students in his classes, a situation that seems to make them more receptive to his usually rather dry lectures. It’s not long before he’s a social media sensation. He can’t help but enjoy this new-found celebrity, telling himself that his stalled academic career might receive an invigorating bump from this strange phenomenon. He even engages the services of a team of marketing people, led by the vacuous Trent (Michael Cera), who keeps trying to persuade him to forge a partnership with Sprite.

But then the dreams that feature him take a much darker turn and Paul finds, to his dismay, that his students – and most of his friends and colleagues – are no longer quite so keen on him…

Dream Scenario is a fascinating film, one that works on many levels. It’s tempting to see it as an allegory about the nature of fame in the 21st century, the ways in which the most innocuous events can go viral and affect people’s lives – and also, how easily circumstances can change, resulting in those same people being cruelly cancelled by their former admirers. I like the way in which I find myself increasingly unsure, as the narrative unfolds, as to what’s a dream and what’s reality, the lines between the two realms blurring. Always a gifted performer, Cage is particularly compelling here, capturing Paul’s bumbling persona, as well as his rising doubts and paranoia as he sees his hopes for a more fulfilling career dashed and compromised at every turn.

There’s an interesting coda that takes the whole idea in a slightly different direction, while at the same time remaining true to its central premise. I’m left with the distinct conviction that, had I managed to catch this on first release, it would have numbered among my favourite films of 2023. But, better late than never, I guess.

4.5 stars

Philip Caveney

Wicked Little Letters

19/02/24

Cineworld, Edinburgh

I’m primed to like Wicked Little Letters. With Olivia Colman, Jessie Buckley and Anjana Vasan as the triumvirate of talent at its helm, what could possibly go wrong?

And yet I find myself struggling to warm to this film. Despite fine performances from the three leads, as well as a stellar supporting cast (including Timothy Spall, Joanna Scanlan and Alisha Weir), it feels somehow both heavy-handed and insubstantial.

Set in 1920s Littlehampton, Wicked Little Letters is loosely based on a true story. Colman plays Edie Swan, a repressed spinster, unable to escape from her overbearing father (Spall). When a spirited Irish widow (Buckley) moves into the house next door – complete with daughter Nancy (Weir) and new partner Bill (Malachi Kirby) – Edie is delighted, but her friendship with Rose soon turns sour. Then Edie begins to receive poison pen letters, and the local bobbies know exactly where to lay the blame. But Woman Police Officer Gladys Moss (Vasan) thinks they may have jumped the gun…

To quote the very excellent Deborah Frances-White, “I’m a feminist, but…” the misogyny in this movie is cartoon-like, laid on with a proverbial trowel. At the same time, racial politics are completely ignored. I find it hard to believe that the same white male colleagues who openly sneer at Gladys because of her gender wouldn’t also have something to say about the fact that she’s Asian. Likewise, it’s incredible that Rose doesn’t face much anti-Irish prejudice, and no one ever mentions the fact that Bill is Black. I like the fact that the fictional characters are more diverse than their real-life counterparts, but intersectionality matters, and it doesn’t make sense to ignore it here.

At first, I enjoy the humour in Jonny Sweet’s script, but I get bored of the whole “sad stinky fucking foxy arsehole” sweariness; it’s repetitive and the shock value soon wears thin. Director Thea Sharrock does a good job of evoking a sense of time and place, and of allowing her cast to shine, but there’s no getting away from the thin material. It doesn’t help that there are no red herrings, or that what little suspense there is is squandered by revealing the culprit at the halfway point.

Colman, of course, is brilliant, managing to convey a perfect mixture of horror and triumph every time she utters a profanity – and this, along with Buckley’s brittle vivacity and Vasan’s wide-eyed determination, elevates the film. Wicked Little Letters works well as a character study, less so as a compelling narrative.

3.6 stars

Susan Singfield

Bob Marley: One Love

18/02/24

Cineworld, Edinburgh

It’s been a long time coming, but finally Bob Marley has his biopic. While it does a pretty decent job of capturing the era in which he rose to prominence and makes you appreciate how many insanely ear-wormy hits he created, there is a slight tendency here to sanitise his offstage antics. But perhaps, with no less than four of his immediate family onboard as executive producers, that’s no great surprise.

We first meet Marley (Kingsley Ben-Adir) when he’s already successful, married to Rita (Lashana Lynch) and watching bewildered as his home town teeters on the edge of a brutal civil war. When a house invasion results in Bob being shot and Rita rushed to hospital, Bob takes the advice of his record producer, Chris Blackwell (James Norton) and heads off to London, where he develops plans for Exodus – the record that will propel him to superstardom. Along the way, he experiences recurring visions of his childhood years under colonial rule, and of the white father he never really knew.

The film is at its best when it’s showing us recreations of the stage shows that would cement Marley’s reputation as an electrifying live presence – and I particularly enjoy the scene where the title track of Exodus is taken from a single idea, through a series of rough improvisations with the band, until it finally comes close to the finished article. I’ve rarely seen a better recreation of the way a band works together to develop a song.

If Ben-Adir is a little too handsome for the role (something that’s accentuated by the post-credit sequences featuring the real Marley), he nevertheless nails the man’s dance moves, gestures and affectations with aplomb. Ironically, it’s Lynch who has more opportunity to generate genuine emotion. In a scene where she berates her husband about the various sexual indiscretions she’s had to tolerate over the years and the way her own singing career has been sublimated in order to help him achieve his goals, she really shines.

In the end, One Love is an enjoyable movie, that could perhaps have benefitted from a grittier approach. Lovers of Marley’s music will have a field day, as one belter after another blasts from the speakers. Like me, fans will doubtless find themselves foot-tapping and twitching in their seats. More than anything else, this is a celebration of the man’s musical accomplishments and his unwavering quest for peace, rather than a warts-and-all investigation of his private life.

4 stars

Philip Caveney

La Passion de Dodin Bouffant (The Taste of Things)

17/02/24

Cineworld, Edinburgh

Apéritif: Set in France in 1885, La Passion de Dodin Bouffant or The Taste of Things is very much a foodie film.

Amuse-bouche: The pace is languid, the plot – such as it is – simmering slowly, allowing the audience to absorb the complex flavours of the central characters.

Entrée: French-Vietnamese film-maker Anh Hung Tran has already won the coveted Best Director award at Cannes, and this unusual film is now an Oscar-contender too.

Plat principal: Benoît Magimel plays the eponymous Dodin Bouffant, a famed gourmet; his real-life ex, Juliette Binoche, is his trusted cook, Eugénie. She lives in his château, which diners come to visit from all over the world. Over two leisurely hours, we imbibe a sense of how their twenty-year relationship has matured, like the fine wines Dodin keeps in his cellar. Food binds them together: they are lovers, yes, but first and foremost they are cooks.

Salade: Kitchen assistant Violette (Galatéa Bellugi) brings her teenage niece to work one day. Pauline (Bonnie Chagneau-Ravoire) might be green, but Eugénie recognises fresh talent when she sees it, and she soon persuades Dodin to let her take the girl on as her apprentice. Pauline’s appearance signals change. Will Eugénie finally agree to marry Dodin?

Fromage: It might seem a little cheesy to use food as a metaphor for love, but when it’s as sumptuously done as this, it’s perfectly justified. The connections feel real as well as symbolic, the care taken over each component of every dish surely an indication of deep affection.

Dessert: I defy anyone to watch this film without salivating. Cinematographer Jonathan Ricquebourg’s camera lingers lovingly over basted meats and exquisite sauces; we see glass-clear consommés and glistening poached pears. When she tastes Eugénie’s Baked Alaska, Pauline weeps. I almost do the same, even though it’s just an image on a screen.

Café: A gentle story with notes of romance and an aftertaste of melancholy, The Taste of Things is a lovely film. Just not one to watch when you’re hungry.

4 stars

Susan Singfield

Guys and Dolls

17/02/24

Pleasance Theatre, Edinburgh

Once in a while, there’s a perfect match between a show and the company that’s presenting it. This is definitely the case with the Edinburgh University Footlights production of Guys and Dolls. The twenty-one young actors who inhabit Damon Runyan’s cast of unforgettable characters provide enough energy between them to power the National Grid.

Nathan Detroit (Benedict Baxter) is looking for a venue in which to host his beloved (illegal) crap game, as well as desperately prevaricating whenever his fiancée of fourteen years, Miss Adelaide (Megan Le Brocq), attempts to get him to name the date for their wedding. Meanwhile, at the Save-a-Soul Mission, Sarah Brown (Nina Harman) is struggling to bring the word of the Lord to the streets of downtown New York. When she encounters inveterate gambler Sky Masterton (Sebastian Schneeberger), a romance ensues – but she’s unaware that he’s accepted a bet from Nathan to lure her to Havana.

When the truth comes out, it’s sure to be awkward…

Jauntily directed by Phee Simpson, this is a production so packed with good things that my review is in serious danger of becoming a long list of superlatives, but I shall try to reign myself in. Rosie Fletcher’s choreography deserves special mention. She makes the most of every inch of the Pleasance’s relatively small stage, creating a visual extravaganza that enhances our understanding of the characters and their situations; an extended sequence depicting a frenzied crap game, powered by the Footlights’ huge orchestra, is a genuinely thrilling experience.

Harman, who has a stunning voice, nails her role with aplomb, and Le Brocq perfectly captures the world-weary charm of Miss Adelaide. Baxter’s Nathan Detroit is wonderfully caustic and Shneeberger handles the tricky role of Masterton with just the right degree of cool. But there’s room for every member of the cast to shine and they seize their opportunities with gusto. Check out the wonderful interplay between Nicely-Nicely Johnson (Benji Castella McDonald) and Benny Southstreet (Dan J Bryant) as they deliver the unforgettable title song. What’s more, Castella McDonald’s delivery of Sit Down You’re Rocking the Boat virtually threatens to blow the roof off the building.

Of course, it always helps when there’s a raft of great songs to perform and Frank Leosser, Abe Burrows and Jo Swerling created them way back in 1950. The wonder is that they still sound as fresh as ever. Guys and Dolls is a truly electrifying experience, a reminder that some shows never seem to age and, while I’ve seen quite a few productions over the years (including one at my daughter’s school, where she was playing General Cartwright), this one, powered by a cast of supremely talented young performers, is surely the most impressive.

You’ve one more chance to catch this glorious show. Don’t miss out.

5 stars

Philip Caveney

Two Sisters

15/02/24

Royal Lyceum Theatre, Edinburgh

As the title suggests, there’s more than a nod to Chekhov in David Greig’s new play, Two Sisters, currently premiering at Edinburgh’s Royal Lyceum Theatre, where he’s also artistic director. And it’s not all about the gun…

That’s not to say that this is an adaptation; it’s not. The plot, structure and cast of characters are very different. And yet it is, despite all that, a cleverly updated version of the same idea, embracing the Russian’s major themes – suffering, love, longing, change – and distilling his bitter humour and nihilistic worldview into something immediately recognisable to a modern audience.

Emma (Jess Hardwick) is a corporate lawyer, married to a hotshot businessman with his own plane. She’s also pregnant and sees her impending motherhood as some kind of deadline: if she can’t pen a novel before the baby’s born, then it will be too late. With this in mind, she books herself a caravan at the holiday park she used to visit with her family as a child. A whole week to herself, reminiscing and writing. What could be more perfect?

But she’s reckoned without her flaky older sister, Amy (Shauna Macdonald), who’s always ricocheting from one crisis to another. This time, her long-suffering husband has caught her shagging the plumber, so she’s come to cry on Emma’s shoulder. 

And rekindle an old flame…

Directed by Wils Wilson, this is a slow-paced piece, reflecting the characters’ inertia. The chorus of teenagers embodies this listlessness too, at once pulsing with life and stymied by lethargy. They hang around the park, aloof and watchful. Nothing escapes their attention. It all matters too much, and yet it doesn’t matter at all.

Macdonald and Hardwick are a charismatic duo, the former’s sharp edges and barely-suppressed longing contrasting perfectly with the latter’s languid determination. Their relationship feels real and convincing. 

Lisbeth Burian’s wonderful set is like a brutal mirror, emphasising the grottiness of the seaside resort, with its peeling edges, dingy caravans and rusting climbing frame. Emma might be blind to the park’s fatal decline, indulging in nostalgia-fuelled fantasies of restoration, but we in the audience are all too aware that it is a lost cause. 

There are a few false notes. I find myself distracted by Lance (Erik Olsson)’s assertion that he’s only ever left Fife to visit Ibiza, when he clearly has a Swedish accent. I wonder too why Amy’s been sleeping in her car when she’s got a job in television; surely she can afford a hotel? These are minor points, but they snag, pulling me out of the drama. I also think that the fourth-wall-breaking teenage chorus could be given more to do; the play comes to life whenever they’re involved.

In true Chekhovian spirit, there is no easy take-home message here; the characters are not gifted with a happy ending, and the threads are not neatly tied. Instead we’re left with a sense of  melancholy. “Our life is not ended yet. We shall live! The music is so happy, so joyful, and it seems as though in a little while we shall know what we are living for, why we are suffering… If we only knew – if we only knew!”

4 stars

Susan Singfield

The Iron Claw

14/02/24

Cineworld, Edinburgh

As I sit watching this film unfold, I can’t help picturing writer/director Sean Durkin’s hopeful pitch to a room full of potential financiers.

“So Sean, what’s this film about?”

“It’s about the world of wrestling – and it’s inspired by a real-life family drama. Oh, and it will star Zac Efron. You know, from High School Musical?”

Whatever those execs pictured in that moment, I’m pretty sure it was nothing like The Iron Claw, but – trust me – the resulting movie is about a hundred times better than it could ever sound as a pitch. If you have expectations, prepare to adjust them.

We first meet the Von Erich clan in the 1970s, when they are conducting their lucrative tag-wrestling partnership and going from strength to strength under the tutelage of their father, Fritz (Holt McCallany), a veritable toxic stew of a man. Fritz thinks nothing of flinging his boys headlong into the wrestling life, even those who are not cut out for it. The Von Erichs have the physiques of Greek gods and the hairstyles to match and, as all-American boys, they do whatever Daddy says, getting little in the way of guidance from their mom, Doris (Maura Tierny), who seems mostly preoccupied with putting gargantuan amounts of carbs on the table.

The oldest (surviving) boy is Kevin (Efron), who, though built like the proverbial stone sewage outlet, somehow manages to maintain his good humour even when being passed over in favour of one of his younger siblings. These include human chameleon Harris Dickinson as David, whose good looks and articulacy make him an ideal frontman and Kerry (Jeremy Allan White), whose dream of throwing the discus at the 1980 Moscow Olympics are scuppered when America withdraws for political reasons. And then there’s young Mike (Stanley Simons), a gentle, optimistic teenager who hankers after a career as a musician – until Fritz derides this as a pipe dream and demands he become a wrestler like his brothers…

As you might expect, the Von Erichs come in for more than their fair share of tragedy; indeed, their story is so overloaded with the stuff that Durkin has removed some of the bleaker occurrences and completely eliminated one member of the clan – Chris, if you’re wondering – arguing that there’s only so much misery an audience can endure in a two-hour cinema visit. Put it this way: if this was fiction, nobody would believe that one relatively small bunch of people could possibly encounter so many slings and arrows in their journey through life. Little wonder that rumours of a ‘Von Erich curse’ proliferated as the family was hit with one terrible disaster after another.

Don’t get me wrong, The Iron Claw (named for Fritz’s signature technique) isn’t one endless blub-fest. Indeed, Durkin ensures that there’s plenty here to lift the mood as the action unfolds. There’s a wonderfully cheesy evocation of the 70s and 80s, with an upbeat soundtrack comprising some of the biggest rock songs of the era, and there’s a whole raft of superb performances from the ensemble cast. Lily James, in a change from her usual ‘middle-class posh girl’ roles, delivers what may be a career-best performance as Kevin’s vivacious and resourceful partner, Pam. And there’s a delightful cameo from Aaron Dean Eisenberg as motor-mouthed wrestling champion, Ric Flair, who comes across as a nasty piece of work on TV, but is revealed to be a nice guy when he’s allowed to be himself.

I was warned to bring some Kleenex to this, but though I’m often shocked by the constant barrage of bad luck the family encounters, I remain resolutely dry eyed throughout. But maybe that’s just me. The Iron Claw is a brilliantly-nuanced story that looks at the toxic nature of the wrestling industry, skilfully eviscerates it and reveals the genuine humanity that lurks behind all that pantomime posturing. 

And it’s clear from the word go which member of the family is chiefly responsible for all that heartbreak.

4.7 stars

Philip Caveney