“Trap For A Lonely Man” by Robert Thomas

at Leighton Buzzard Theatre, 23rd September 2010

Thrillers seem to be all the rage at the moment, with Ghost Stories and Death Trap recently becoming hits in London’s West End. Now, Leighton Buzzard Drama Group is joining in the party with Ann Kempster’s intense and ambitious staging of Robert Thomas’ “Trap For A Lonely Man”.

Daniel Corbain’s wife has been missing for days but when a random woman appears claiming to be his spouse, his life falls into disarray as people around him variously support and reject his claims. Revealing anymore would be bad form in a review for a thriller, but rest assured there are sufficient twists and turns to keep the audience on the edge of its collective seat.

Act One takes a while to pick up and often feels slow, lacking much pace, but once introductions have been made the play really begins to become enjoyable. The comedy missing in the first half is found after the interval, at times turning the thriller into a genuine farce. Robert Thomas’ writing does at times feel a little contrived, but this is remedied by one self-aware exclamation that “I didn’t think this sort of thing happened in real life!”

The cast play off each other well, and each relationship has clearly been carefully considered. Lainy Ward as the Inspector and Carl Russell in the role of the Priest are both subtle, bringing out a truthfulness not found in other parts. Kim Aguilar as the supposed wife is thoughtful but lacks real duplicity, while Bob Kempster brings welcome comic relief as the Tramp. The stand out performance however is found in the central role, played by Randell Moll, who shows a man slowly breaking down and on the verge of madness. His final few scenes are extraordinarily intense and Moll leads us on his journey with ease.

Ann Kempster’s production is one of contrasts, placing a warm cream set and lighting against a dark story and perfectly pitching performances and situations against each other so that we are constantly left guessing the truth, right up until the final curtain. Try and work out the answer before the end, and if you do, make yourself known. You’re the kind of person we need on the police force.

(Theatre) Blogging Along

On the Guardian’s Theatre Blog today Mark Fisher has commented on the differences between tweeting thoughts about plays and writing full reviews. Due to Twitter being an informal medium, critics seem to be more open to admitting emotions online than in print articles. Citing Lyn Gardner’s tweet and subsequent review as an example, Fisher suggests that critics shouldn’t be afraid to add an air of subjectivity to their reviews, akin to the reviews of the West End Whingers. He’s forgetting something, however; bloggers aren’t in print.

It is easy for a theatre blogger to describe his or her emotions about a piece of theatre within the context of their review, for they are likely to have their work read only by people actively searching for that particular page and surfers who enjoy their style. A print journalist’s review, however, is consumed in a far more passive manner, as readers peruse national newspapers read by millions of people.

This creates a mini-paradox. Let me explain. Reviews in national newspapers are hidden amongst all sorts of other articles and comments, and are read in the context of a newspaper. It is unlikely, for example, that the average reader has bought the tome just to read said review. This means, therefore, that readers of printed reviews are of the ‘casual’ demographic. Those reading blogs, however, are far more likely to be specifically interested in theatre or a particular review, so are likely to be members of a more ‘professional’ or ‘niche’ population. This is why there is a split between the two modes and is also why newspaper critics are unable to discuss plays subjectively.

Call me elitist, but we need professional critics writing authoritatively and objectively. Lose them, and every Tom, Dick and Harry will come along claiming to know everything about everything. When we read a review by Michael Billington or Charles Spencer, we know that with their words comes the accumulated knowledge of a good few decades in the theatre world. When reading blogs, we are more likely to expect to be entertained and gauge overall opinion.

Coming back to the original context of Tweeting, I must point out that Fisher has forgotten something else. In the wonderful world of Twitter there is an immediacy which is impossible to portray in a print review. Followers want to know how the reviewer feels now, shunning hindsight and thought, because that’s what theatre is supposed to do. It is for this reason that Mark Shenton’s mini-reviews on Twitter often feel rather distant and too considered - a gut-reaction would be better straight after a play than a pretentious 140 characters (which I know I am often guilty of). When writing the review, however, the critic must add a layer of reason and stand back from their personal experience to write an informed piece of writing. My Tweet after seeing Jerusalem read: “Sweating, heart pounding and eyes watering. Mark Rylance is a God and Jez Butterworth a genius”. In my review, however, I minimised this to “Byron’s last monologue… sends the audience’s collective heart beating and as the curtain comes down we are left shaking”. Had I not, the review may have sounded more amateurish than it did already and would have been pretty much unreadable.

Whilst I agree that theatre critics should be more ready to admit their genuine feelings about a play, this is only necessary when it truly affects them. We must remember that they can see up to six shows every week and probably review a vast amount of insignificant and inconsequential theatre. This means that when we do see a glimmer of emotion shining through we listen and take heed by booking a ticket. I like my theatre critics just as they are thanks very much.

“Blood and Gifts” by JT Rogers

at the Lyttelton Theatre, Monday 13th September 2010

Earlier in the year, Howard Davies’ superb production of Bulgakov’s The White Guard explored the horrors of war during the Russian Revolution, but exposed the farce of the situation. In his production of JT Rogers’ Blood and Gifts, Davies tackles the similarly brutal conflict of the Soviet war in Afghanistan, focussing more on the conflict behind the scenes rather than on the front line. Both plays consider shifting loyalties and the language of trust, but Blood and Gifts also questions the right of external forces to be in countries where they don’t belong.

The action of the play takes place over a period of ten years, and follows the movements of James Warnock, who has been sent to Afghanistan to gather intelligence for the US. Warnock has to appease an Afghan warlord and his troupe of Duran-Duran-singing men, and although they do not always see eye to eye, they share a hatred for the Soviets. Behind their backs, however, Warnock is being goaded by the British Simon Craig to take more action, that, like “chess, you should never get too attached to one piece”. While Warnock genuinely wishes to restore order and peace, it is clear that those around him see Afghanistan as no more than a battleground for the Cold War.

Everyone is a puppet, unable to control their actions or their fate. This is mirrored in the script with references to the different beliefs of the various parties. This is as much a crusade as it is a war of land. The power of words is also considered, and the Afghan’s inability to see metaphor in the words of 80s pop music is deeply moving. We are also asked to consider how trusted we can be when telling our own stories, as the intricate web of lies and deceit unravels itself, questioning how much is propaganda and how much the truth.

The cast is extremely strong. Demosthenes Chrysan and Philip Ardatti as the warlord Abdullah and his aide Saeed are both sensitive and brutal in their roles, and Matthew Marsh, although it seems his thoughts are sometimes elsewhere, brings comedy in the role of the Russian Gromov. Adam James as Simon Craig has some of the best lines in the play (“Maggie Thatcher should be dragged from Downing Street, draped in a Burkha and stoned”) from a British perspective he is our way in to the politics of the piece. Lloyd Owen excels in the lead role of Warnock, showing a man struggling to choose between morals and orders. He carries the piece, and in many ways his journey is just as important as that of the Afghans.

The intricate and versatile set, designed by Ultz, allows for a multitude of different scenes, the dull cream walls contrasting greatly with the affluence of the West. Shown in letterbox so that we focus on the characters, the lighting grid is raised and lowered, creating a feeling at times that the ceiling is literally caving in. Paul Anderson’s lighting and Marc Teitler’s music are just as epic as the text itself.

Throughout the play, within the savage arguments and underhand bargaining, there are beautiful moments of peace, when focus shifts to the individuals on show. During one of these lulls, Gromov states that while “tragedy is comedy plus time,” Afghanistan is “tragedy plus time”. It is a tragedy which both Russia and America created and which, as Rogers observes, neither had a right to be a part of. The span and scope of Blood and Gifts is huge, but unlike Earthquakes in London there is a singular narrative and clear focus. This is epic theatre at its best.

“Wanderlust” by Nick Payne

at Jerwood Theatre Upstairs, Royal Court, 11th September 2010

Let’s not beat about the bush. Nick Payne’s Wanderlust is a play about sex. Of course, there are a few other ideas, but it’s sex that drives the individual stories and gives the characters motivation. Simon Godwin’s production at Jerwood Theatre Upstairs at the Royal Court manages to show Payne’s writing to be incredibly real, but it never really comes alive.

Payne’s script focusses on the intertwined relationships of a group of six people. Tim and Michelle are a pair of teenagers learning the ropes. Alan and Joy, Tim’s parents, have been married for twenty-six years, and, finding it difficult to find passion after this time, look towards Clare and Stephen respectively to make them feel wanted. It’s fairly simple and, to be honest, has been done before. The characters and the situations in which they find themselves are real enough, but herein lies part of the problem. At times the dialogue drags without reaching a conclusion, meaning the only driving force is the narrative.

It is a script that would work well on screen, paying attention to close-ups of private moments. However, Joy’s monologues to the audience (the only times the play becomes introspective) give us the most insight and involve the majority of argument, proving that Payne would have done well to include more of these moments.

Wanderlust also seems remarkably tame for a play focussing on sex. That’s not to say that the production should be more graphic, just that the issues should be tackled with more courage and confidence. Payne skirts around the issues too often in an attempt to remain truthful, and we are never really asked to question our own views on sex.

The cast manages to bring meaning out of the text, but again we don’t see much of a dilemma for many of them. Pippa Haywood as Joy is strong and clearly finds it difficult to speak openly to her husband, whom Stuart McQuarrie shows to be a man in a crisis. Perhaps most impressive are Sian Brooke and James Musgrave who, although awkward as adolescents, are able to talk about sex in a way alien to their elders.

Robert Innes-Hopkins’ talent, which showed itself to be worthy in Clybourne Park, isn’t given enough legroom here, and Tom Mills’ music is only useful in linking separate scenes together.

Wanderlust has the potential to be an interesting and eerily realistic comment on the way sex is viewed in the 21st century, but eventually lacks the gusto to pull this off. Want to see an already sold-out play at the Royal Court this autumn? Clybourne Park is your best bet.

Ode To Leighton Buzzard

Same street
Different day.
Same time.
There she goes again.
Boots, Bank, Smiths. Across the street to buy some meat.
Repeat.
Same again next week.

In Leighton variety is a different filling in your sandwich for each day of the week.
Monday: Ham
Tuesday: Cheese
Wednesday: Cheese and Tomato
Thursday: Cheese and Ham
Friday: Jam.
It’s been the same for twenty years.

Every Thursday the same messages on Facebook
“You going town Saturday?”
“Litten’s a shithole, but yeah I’ll be there”
The Litten Tree. Between you and me,
Don’t go for a wee in a place like that.
They think you have crack.

Every week leads to the weekend and every year leads to Christmas.
No end. Just repetition, repetition, repetition.

Yes, it’s relatively safe.
Yes, it’s peaceful.
Yes, it’s “a good place to grow up”, wherein
Good people spend their formative years.
But is that a good thing?
It’s quite right wing
For a start.
And surely, by not experiencing the “real world”, the town breeds apathy.
A distaste for change.

Yes, it has heart.
But not much of a mind.
Confined in their own little world. Oblivious. That’s far worse than being exposed.
Far worse for us all.
Little experience of injustice,
Of pain,
Of difference,
Technically means it doesn’t exist.
And it won’t change with that mindset.

Slough? Pah!
Come, friendly bombs and fall on Leighton.

From Shakespeare’s Sonnets to a Ginger Aussie

Yesterday the Royal Shakespeare Company announced its season of events to get the punters along to the new Royal Shakespeare Theatre when it opens from 24th November. There seems to be something for everyone, and it seems the RSC have outdone themselves as they prepare to showcase everything from serious debates to downright frivolity. When it was announced the old RST would be redeveloped, many complained that many of the stories and memories would vanish when the theatre was restructured. As the new theatre becomes a hive of activity in winter, however, no doubt we will be treated to anecdotes for the new generation.

Here’s a quick breakdown of the highlights.

What would the RSC be without poetry? Buggered, that’s what. Rightly so, the first staged event to be taking place in the new 1000-seat space on 3rd December will be Uncertainty is Not a Good Dog, a “playful evening of witty and tender poetry” by award-winning poets. It is somewhat odd that the first event will not be based around Shakespeare, but this being the premiere for the theatre it will probably sell out quickly.

Certain to sell out sooner, however, will be Love Is My Sin, Shakespeare’s Sonnets, directed and adapted by Peter Brook. Performed on Friday 7th and Saturday 8th January, this piece will surely remind us of the beauty of Shakespeare’s words and the skill of Brook himself.

In true RSC style, audiences will also be treated to a selection of discussions and talks, including Barrie Rutter reminiscing about his time at the RSC on 11th December, Quentin Blake drawing some of his beloved Roald Dahl characters on 4th December and Roger Rees in his one-man half-performance-half-discussion show What You Will on 14th and 15th December. Most exciting perhaps is Tim Minchin on 16th January playing songs from Matilda and his new one man show. Having seen Minchin live last year, this is a definite must-see.

Throughout the early months the theatre will be taken over by many companies and artists outside the RSC performing sight-specific work within the new shell. Sound and Fury on 8th December promises to help us “discover new words throughout the theatre”, and Geraldine Pilgrim’s Handbag, originally seen at BAC to critical acclaim, establishes itself in the RST on 6th and 7th November.

There is too much to write about in detail, but other events include demonstrations of the technical side of the theatre, performances from young and amateur dramatic societies, concerts, exhibitions and stand-up from Russell Kane and Chris Addison.

Moving on to February we see the first major productions to be staged in the new auditoria. First up is David Farr’s production of King Lear with Greg Hicks in the title role, followed by Rupert Goold’s acclaimed production of Romeo and Juliet at the RST. I must admit a slight disappointment at this news, for I must confess the illogical part of my mind wished the new theatre would open with a new repertoire. Of course in practice this would have been impossible, as the current ensemble finish in London merely a month before, but the dream was still there. Nevertheless, both of these productions are superb are well worth the visit.

Round the back in the Swan Theatre, Michael Boyd’s less than impressive Anthony and Cleopatra plays alongside short runs of Little Angel Theatre’s The Tempest and a new production of The Rape of Lucrece. Those who missed the Young People’s Shakespeare productions of Hamlet and Comedy of Errors will also be able to catch them in the Swan and RST respectively.

On a sadder note, it has come to my attention that at the moment the RSC has no firm plans for a farewell to the Courtyard Theatre, the ensemble’s temporary home for the past four years, after Matilda at Christmas. The building will stay where it is and will be used as part of the Shakespeare Festival, but it surely deserves a proper send-off. The RSC, I am told, are open to thoughts and ideas, so email them today and the Courtyard will get the treatment it needs.

Boyd is yet to announce what productions will officially open the new theatres in April next year to coincide with the 50th birthday celebrations, but whatever they are we can expect something spectacular and must-see. We wait in anticipation.

For more information take a look at the schedule http://www.rsc.org.uk/downloads/theatres-opening-schedule.pdf