Theatre

Romeo & Juliet

 

 

20/09/17

King’s Theatre, Edinburgh

Merely Theatre have a pretty unique approach to staging what they call ‘stripped-back’ Shakespeare. Each play they produce features only five actors and the casting is gender-blind. On this tour, for instance, they are performing Romeo & Juliet and Twelfth Night in rep – so the version of R & J I see features four female actors and one male. It all makes for an interesting dynamic and prompts the viewer to examine really familiar scenes with a fresh eye.

I won’t insult readers by outlining the full plot of R & J – only to observe that a play that so many people think of as the ultimate love story is, in fact, pure tragedy – the tale of a flighty, impetuous youth who becomes infatuated with somebody he’s only just met and, in wooing her, unwittingly leaves a trail of devastation in his wake. Some love story! For once, the two lead characters here are young enough to convince us that they could be so impetuous and the pared-down nature of this production means that it moves like the proverbial tiger on vaseline, with characters dashing back and forth through a series of curtained doorways, slipping in and out of costume as they go.

With so few actors to carry so many roles, the danger is always that an audience won’t be entirely sure who is who, but the simple costume changes (where, for instance, the Capulets are always decked out in Bay City Roller-style flourishes of tartan) means that we’re never confused. Almost before I know it, we’ve hit the interval and, after a short break, the second half fairly scampers by. Sarah Peachey and Emmy Rose make appealing star-crossed lovers and I particularly enjoy Tamara Astor’s performance as the Nurse. Hannah Ellis deftly handles three roles, while Robert Myles manages four.

If you’re trying to encourage reluctant youngsters to embrace a bit of the bard of Stratford-upon-Avon, this is a great way to start them off. It’s pacy and exuberant but doesn’t pull any punches when dealing with the tragedy.

All-in-all, a very satisfying production.

4.2 stars

Philip Caveney

The Threepenny Opera

15/09/17

King’s Theatre, Edinburgh

Bertolt Brecht and Kurt Weill would doubtless have approved of Attic Collective’s version of their infamous master work. From the faked technical problem in the opening minutes through to the battalions of cast members made to ride exercise bicycles throughout the three hour show (as though attempting to power it up), everything has been done to accentuate the artifice of the production – a key Brechtian device.

But up on the massive stage of the King’s Theatre, the Verfremdungseffekt this produces is perhaps a little too pronounced for the play’s own good. The antics of the performers seem dwarfed in such a setting and the sparse lighting effects employed  make us feel like we’re observing it all from a distance – as though we’re watching through binoculars turned the wrong way around. The moment when the fourth wall is completely shattered and a group of prostitutes install themselves in the King’s famous boxes, exchanging lines over the heads of the audience is, for me at least, a standout scene.

Notorious villain MacHeath (a suitably swaggering performance by Charlie West) marries Polly Peachum (Kirsty Benton), much to the chagrin of her parents (Max Reid and Hannah Bradley), who decide that it’s high time their new son-in-law is taken down a peg or two – by the liberal application of a hangman’s noose. And as it turns out, MacHeath has quite a few embarrassing skeletons in his closet, not least the existence of another bride whom he’s completely forgotten to mention, plus several very close companions up at the local brothel…

There are some lovely performances here. Benton’s turn as Polly is particularly impressive and Reid plays Mr Peachum with bombastic glee. I would love to see this in a more intimate setting, where I might become a bit more swept up in the action (less Brechtian perhaps, but, I suspect, more satisfying for an audience). It’s nonetheless a creditable effort from the enthusiastic young cast, who deliver a raucous and audacious evening’s entertainment. If it’s not quite up there with last production Lysistrata, still they give this everything they’ve got, and it’s definitely worth seeking out.

3.4 stars

Philip Caveney

Angels in America

 

 

Denise Gough (Harper) and Andrew Garfield (Prior) in AngelsInAmerica Perestroika photo by Helen Maybanks

09/09/17 and 14/09/17

Thank heavens for NT Live. The National Theatre’s 2017 revival of Angels in America sold out within a few short hours. Of course it did! And, although there’s always the tempting possibility of day tickets (available for same-day performances from 9.30am in person from the box office), they’re only really practical if you’re based in London. We are certainly never going to travel from Scotland on the off-chance we might procure a couple of seats. But NT Live means we can experience this landmark production anyway – even though we’re too busy to see the actual live screening in July, the fact that it’s been committed to film bypasses the ephemeral nature of theatre, and gives us the opportunity to catch up with an encore showing at Edinburgh’s Festival Theatre, a short walk from our apartment.

Okay, it’s not as good as actually being there, sharing a space with the actors in real time. There’s none of the intimacy or jeopardy of live theatre, but it’s a pretty decent second best and we’re very grateful for it. The Festival Theatre is an excellent venue for such a venture: I’ve only seen these screenings in cinemas before, but being in a theatre adds a level of authenticity, and the screen is huge, the sound quality excellent.

It’s a bit of a marathon, this play, even spread over two evenings. But, my word, it’s worth it. In just under eight hours, Tony Kushner’s script offers us a “gay fantasia on national themes” – a sprawling, painful and searingly funny depiction of New York in the 1980s, fractured and ill-prepared to deal with the AIDS epidemic.

The protagonist is Prior Walter, played here by Andrew Garfield in an eye-opening performance: he is, we discover, an actor with real range. Prior is dying and he’s afraid; his boyfriend, Louis (James McArdle), can’t cope and so he leaves. While Louis weeps and beats his breast with useless, futile public expressions of guilt, Prior begins hallucinating, having visions. He’s visited by an angel and by his long-dead ancestors. And, in his dreams, he collides with another tortured soul, Harper Pitt (Denise Gough), the mentally ill Morman whose husband, Joseph (Russell Tovey), is secretly gay. It’s a convoluted, complex plot, difficult to summarise, but eminently watchable: it all makes perfect sense when it unfolds before our eyes.

I’ve read the play, of course (I’m a theatre studies graduate), and I’ve seen the 2003 mini-series starring Meryl Streep, Emma Thompson and Al Pacino. But this production, directed by Marianne Elliott, is something else: it’s genuinely stupendous. Susan Brown’s performance, for example, is impeccable; she plays six roles with utter conviction. And I find myself especially delighted by Amanda Lawrence’s Angel; she’s mesmerising, and beautifully supported by the Angel Shadows, six black-clad actors, who control her wings as well as performing the lifts and balances that make her seem airborne.

The set is a thing of wonder too, although I’d like to see more long shots in the filming, to help me envisage what the piece looks like as a whole; instead, there are a lot of mid shots and close-ups, which allow me to see the actors clearly but don’t give me a true sense of the space. Still, it’s obviously spectacular, all rotating cogs and zooming rooms, a whole world contained within the confines of the stage.

I’m delighted to have had the chance to see this play; it’s a truly iconic piece, challenging and thought-provoking and entertaining to the end.

5 stars

Susan Singfield

What Shadows

12/09/17

Lyceum Theatre, Edinburgh

Chris Hannan’s What Shadows is a thought-provoking piece, spanning the decades between Enoch Powell’s inflammatory ‘rivers of blood’ speech and his demise in the 1990s. Of course, in these times of Brexit and Farage, Powell’s anti-immigration rhetoric is all too relevant, and director Roxana Silbert makes the comparisons clear – there is no hiding from the questions raised by this demanding  play. And very illuminating it is too. There are no easy answers on offer here, no constancies of ‘right’ and ‘wrong.’ Everything is open to interpretation: we’re all unreliable narrators, fragmented selves, telling ourselves stories to appease our consciences. The fragility of our carefully constructed identities is underlined by Wolverhampton war widow Marjorie Jones (Paula Wilcox)’s dementia: who we are is a long way from set.

The play’s conceit is fairly simple: feuding academics Rose (Amelia Donor) and Sofia (Joanne Pearce) team up to write a book examining what it means to be English, trying to make sense of Powell’s impact on the political landscape. Through a series of flashbacks, we are forced to consider numerous viewpoints, to explore contentious ideas and situations exhaustively, from every angle. Does the play redeem Powell? Perhaps to some extent, as an individual. But it never lets him off the hook either: true, we hear his ‘Birmingham speech’ in full, but the other characters are given a right of reply, and his ideas are exposed as ignorance, borne out of fear. Or perhaps that’s just how it sounded to me, my heart giving more weight to the words that chime wth my beliefs.

The characterisation is robust: these are intriguing, fascinating people, fully realised within the text, given space to breathe and come to life by the light-touch direction. Ian McDiarmid’s performance is central to the whole piece: his Enoch Powell is more than just a clever impersonation; it’s an emotionally convincing representation of a man. I like the set too: the trees a reminder of the land itself, the ever-changing projections a subtle metaphor for the transient nature of our lives. Times change. People change. And perhaps whole point of this play is that we need to talk and listen, to try to bridge the gaps between us instead of creating chasms.

4 stars

Susan Singfield

Edfest Bouquets 2017

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It was another fantastic three weeks at the Fringe for us. We crammed in as many shows as we possibly could – and still barely managed to scratch the surface. Here’s our pick of the best we saw this year. Congratulations to everyone mentioned.

Theatre

Seagulls – Volcano Theatre

Peer Gynt – Gruffdog Theatre

The Power Behind the Crone – Alison Skilbeck

Safe Place – Clara Glynn

Pike Street – Nilaja Sun

 

Comedy

The Darkness of Robins – John Robins

Kinabalu – Phil Wang

Dominant – John Robertson

Mistress & Misfit – Shappi Khorsandi

Oh Frig, I’m 50! – Richard Herring

 

Story Telling

One Seventeen – Sarah Kendall

These Trees the Autumn Leaves Alone – Will Greenway

The Man on the Moor – Max Dickins

Eggsistentialism – Joanne Ryan

Blank Tiles – Dylan Cole

 

Special Mentions

The Toxic Avenger: The Musical – Aria Entertainment & Flying Music

Up Close – Chris Dugdale

The Cat Man Curse – Pelican Theatre

Cathy – Cardboard Citizen Theatre

Well Meaning, but Right Leaning – Geoff Norcott

Peer Gynt

28/08/17

Zoo Sanctuary, Pleasance, Edinburgh

Gruffdog Theatre’s Peer Gynt is a theatrical triumph: a joyous romp through Henrik Ibsen’s script, with a sprightly physicality that has us utterly enthralled.

Look, it’s the last day of the Fringe, and it’s all winding down. Everywhere we turn, we can see vans being loaded, posters being removed. Venues that just yesterday were pulsing with life now have their doors shut, their windows dark. We’re not sure we even want to see another show (we’ve seen a lot; we’re pretty sated). But a friend has recommended this play and it’s a now or never thing. So we pick up a pair of tickets and set off across town.

And we’ve definitely made the right decision; this is a glorious Fringe finale, chronicling the tale of the feckless Peer Gynt as he swaggers his way through life, leaving a trail of heartbroken women and abandoned children in his wake. The ensemble work is wonderful: a well-oiled machine with all the parts working in harmony. Literal harmony at times, as the whole piece is soundtracked a capella by the cast. It’s eerie and unearthly, and a little bit unsettling – just like the strange green eye make-up they all wear, and the funny little outfits, all identical.

The physical theatre is precise and well-crafted, performed with ease and poise. I especially like the shipwreck, which is beautifully done. The puppetry is excellent too – that troll! – and the multi-roling works a treat.

Sadly, you can’t see this in Edinburgh now, and Gruffdog Theatre’s website seems to indicate this is the end of their UK tour. But, if they revive it, I recommend this play whole-heartedly, and I for one will be checking carefully to see what they do next.

5 stars

Susan Singfield

Scribble

 

25/08/17

Assembly Roxy

We were attracted to this particular show because the premise sounded so intriguing. This play by Andy Gilmartin features a different performer every day, who reads through the script alongside mainstay, Ross (Alan MacKenzie). The guest performer has never seen the script before and is required to read all the sections highlighted in a certain colour. This, we are told, is an attempt to reflect the ever-changing nature of the nation’s mental health. On the day we attend, the guest actor is Kim Allan, who handles the situation with aplomb. She’s clearly been hand-picked, because she never puts a foot wrong.

Ross talks about cosmology and bran flakes and his partner, Fi,  who is working away in China. He asks the audience questions and gets them to applaud when the answer is ‘yes.’ But the questions are not particularly challenging. ‘Have you ever made a decision? Have you ever eaten bran flakes?’ Umm… okay, but… where is this going exactly?

McKenzie is a confident performer and he plays his character nicely… but… the play itself ultimately promises so much more than it actually delivers.

For all that it presents itself as an audacious, risk-taking project, the format is far too controlled to offer the guest performer anything interesting to do. There’s no room for improv here, they can only read the lines exactly as written. We’re told that the script continually develops, that this is actually the forty-ninth draught of it, but of course, as reviewers, we can only respond to what we witness and, for me at least, this is somewhat underwhelming. Potentially interesting subjects are mentioned in passing – mental health, compulsive obsessive disorder, the fear of experiencing unwanted desires, but these themes are never really developed and, at the play’s conclusion, I left feeling that I’ve seen two decent performances, but not much more than that.

A shame, because there’s probably a satisfying play in here somewhere – but this isn’t it.

2.3 stars

Philip Caveney

My Pet, My Love

24/08/17

C Royale, George Street, Edinburgh

Rob Gaetano’s My Pet, My Love is a little gem. It occupies that awkward space between performance and conversation, but with such ease that it feels natural and compelling. To be clear: there are actorly skills at work here; Gaetano employs physical theatre, mime and monologue to convey his story, and he does so with great precision and control. But he also creates an intimate atmosphere, and speaks to us as if there is no boundary between stalls and stage. It’s a winning approach, successfully drawing us into his world.

This is a piece about fear, and more specifically about the fear of ageing and forgetting. We learn about Gaetano’s first pet, a fish called Bluey, and about his Nonna and her dementia. We learn about his wish to make his family proud, and his concern that he can’t achieve this as a single, not-all-that-successful gay actor. (Not all that unsuccessful, though; he’s won plaudits from critics, as well as an award.) Mostly, we work with him to unlock a series of memories, key moments that – held on to – help to define just who he is.

I only have one criticism of this piece, and it’s minor. But when he plays Culture Club’s Karma Chameleon at full volume, it saturates the room and becomes unbearably evocative. If the aim here is to take me away from the play in front of me and lose me for a while in my own memories of being thirteen, then it works. But I’m definitely not focusing on Gaetano at that point, although, as soon as the music ends, I’m right back with him.

There are only a few days left of this year’s Fringe, but it’s definitely worth seeking out this piece for a satisfying denouement.

4 stars

Susan Singfield

Elephant in the Room

 

23/08/17

Assembly Rooms, George Street

This delightful tale from Hindu mythology tells the story of Ganesha, the son of Shiva and Parvati, who, after causing friction between his parents, is decapitated by his father and then has his head replaced with that of an elephant. Understandably miffed at this rough treatment, he sets off into the forest in search of his real head, accompanied by a spider called Makdee and a scheming huntsman called Moorkh, but the pair are secretly planning to hold the boy-God to ransom…

This is essentially a monologue, brilliantly told by Yuki Ellias, who acts out all the roles, snapping effortlessly from one character to the next, portraying them as much by her physicality as with her voice. It’s an assured performance and I love the simplicity of the staging, which uses nothing more than a loose grey and red robe to identify the different roles. Plaudits should also go to the creator of the wonderful score and to the lighting designer, who help transform an unprepossessing portacabin on George Street into a magical location.

This is delightful stuff and all concerned should take a well-earned bow. There’s only a few days left to catch this before the festival ends, so don’t miss the opportunity.

4.2 stars

Philip Caveney

The Cat Man Curse

21/08/17

Bedlam Theatre, Edinburgh

Once in a while you encounter a show on the Fringe that is so off-the-wall bizarre, so downright inspired, so bat-shit crazy, that it develops its own momentum. The Cat Man Curse feels like just such a show. From its crazy coconut shy opening, through its clever spoof of a dumb 70s TV show, this is quite simply one of the funniest productions I’ve seen in a while.

The brainchild of three former Cambridge Footlites members, it tells the story of TV star Charles Heron (Guy Emanuel) famed for his portrayal of TV lawyer, Harry Hardtruth, constantly in competition with his wily onscreen nemesis, Libel (Sam Grabiner). When Charles is asked to star in the role of Cat Man, he thinks his future is assured – but then he learns about the terrible curse that has struck down every single actor that has previously played the part. Understandably anxious to get out of his contract, he engages the services of slick solicitor, Mark Swift (Jordan Mitchell) and the two men go undercover to try and find out who is behind the curse.

Described in those terms it all sounds fairly straightforward, right? But the story takes some very wild diversions along the way – a spot of French cookery aided by a very long-armed gibbon? You’ve got it. A roller-disco dance routine? Well, why not? Endlessly inventive and laugh out-loud-funny throughout, this is the kind of show that could easily spawn a hit television series. An ambitious producer should give these boys a call before somebody else snaps them up.

If you like a laugh riot, don’t miss this one.

4.6 stars

Philip Caveney