“13″ by Mike Bartlett

at the Olivier Theatre, Thursday 29th December 2011

“The more you know, the harder you will find it to make up your mind” goes Tim Minchin’s “anthem to ambivalence” The Fence. In an increasingly divided world, which sees everything as black or white, the grey area in between is sometimes the most interesting and the most fulfilling. Mike Bartlett’s extraordinary and multitudinous new play 13 fights this case whilst at the same time rallying behind the idea of belief, imploring us to fight for a cause and resist the forces of blandness society struggles so hard to impose upon us. Thea Sharrock’s production is a smorgasbord of spectacle and yet a marvel of simplicity.

We are in central London, among many intertwining storylines and characters. The two central voices come from a female Conservative Prime Minister (Geraldine James) and a messiah-type figure in John (Trystan Gravelle), the former of whom defends her ‘considered’ approach to politics while the other rises up through a mini-internet revolution to become the voice of the people, fighting for freedom of speech and idealism. Around this central story there are dozens of other tales of love, loss, parenthood and faith which all share the theme of belief and ignorance.

It is not hard to see that this is the same mind that came up with Earthquakes in London, but there have been some improvements made. Where Earthquakes felt a little too messy, even though the stories tried hard to be entwined, 13 goes all out on the haphazardness, not holding back anything and revelling in a confusion of voices. There are no ‘unreal’ aspects to this play either as there were in the former; this is merely a ‘hyper-real’ representation of our own reality, drawing out the most deplorable and exciting aspects of the new way of the world. Yes, it is sometimes a little unbelievable, but is entirely this idealism which Bartlett is trying to capture; in order to achieve a better future, we must make the impossible possible.

Although Bartlett seems to lay out the cause for idealism and belief, arguing this is better than thinking nothing at all, the final thirty minutes turn this on its head, showing that no one is entirely morally clean and we are all hypocrites – we must therefore be cautious when creating role models, rather embracing the faults of a whole group and using them to our advantage. Everyone is corrupt to an extent – governments, Julian Assange, Ghandi, and not one of us nor any political system is perfect.

Thea Sharrock’s staging is fast-paced and dynamic, mirroring Bartlett’s breakneck play. She draws out the human aspects of these stories whilst making clear political and cultural comments. Tom Scutt’s huge cuboid set becomes a space for socialising, fighting and playing, and gives hints towards those ‘black boxes’ we hear about, holding information about all of us. Adrian Johnston and Mark Henderson’s music and lighting add to the epic qualities of the production and are just as confused and layered as the play itself.

Some strong performances bring the text to life, and each remains solidly human; Adam James is well placed in his comfort zone as a misogynistic solicitor, while Kirsty Bushell and Davood Ghadami display touching qualities as an archetypal couple. Danny Webb is both disturbing and fascinating as the atheist confidante to Geraldine James’ privately passionate but publicly cold Prime Minister. Gravelle’s performance as John, however, steals the show, remaining ever elusive due to his calmness but remaining ingenious, brave and  inspiring. He is the leader we all long for.

To those who criticise Bartlett’s play for being too messy, I say this: you’re going to have to learn to live with it. As our world becomes ever more confusing and the number of heard voices increases, this style of multi-layered, collaborative and somewhat confused play is only going to become more popular. The well-made and carefully crafted play doesn’t mirror our difficult and postmodern world, and as we have to deal with excess in everyday life, theatre must respond to it. 13 is ingenious in its variety, tackling huge, almost incomprehensible questions, but in doing so it asks each and every one of us to interrogate our own beliefs and values and opens up a discourse which must and will take place.

“Cause Célèbre” by Terence Rattigan

at the Old Vic, Wednesday 8th June 2011

Whilst I’m not utterly convinced that the fuss over Terence Rattigan on the 100th anniversary of his birth is healthy for British Theatre, it must be conceded that Thea Sharrock has done a stunning job of rekindling the nation’s love for this playwright. Following the success of After The Dance at the National last year, Cause Célèbre does wane somewhat in comparison, however, for the strengths in the production highlight the weaknesses in the text.

This is definitely not Rattigan’s best play; it is sexist, misogynistic, snobby, uber-conservative and -perhaps most appallingly of all – somewhat dull. The bulk of the play concerns itself with the trial and public humiliation of Alma Rattenburg for the murder of her husband with the help of her lover, George Wood. She is particularly hated by Edith Davenport, the jury forewoman, who asserts that she cannot be fair in judging the defendent because of the disgust she feels towards her moral character. The play then descends into an argument about whether or not Alma should be found guilty simply for her moral ‘repugnance’, regardless of her innocence. She is painted as the devil-woman, even though there is little reason to deem her so, especially in the 21st century.

But here’s the issue; it seems at times that Rattigan sympathises with the haters, and we can’t be too careful in a Tory age of our moral vision becoming blurred. No adulterer deserves to be lynched, yet all Cameron’s talk of ‘family values’ means this could end up once again becoming truth. No matter how beautifully written and well structured Rattigan’s plays are, we can’t get past the fact they are hardly representitive of a liberal society.

Sharrock’s production makes some good points about verisimilitude, showing us some of the contradictory statements in a hazy atmosphere, forcing us to question what we take as fact. There are also some interesting links to the modern day, with all its talk of celebrity and mob-mentality resonating in an injunction era. One of Alma’s wardons tells her that her music “will sell very well” following the publicity of the trial.

Hildegard Bechtler’s astonishing set is incomprehensively versatile, moving from vast unforgiving cavern to cosy living room without a sound. It is lit with warmth by Bruno Poet, who manages to distract us during crucial moments so that various coup-de-theatres can be performed.

As always, Sharrock’s skill is evident in the direction of her actors, and three performances in particular stand out. Nicholas Jones’ portrayal of O’Connor, the defendent lawyer, is remarkably intelligent, and he alone carries the narrative of the second half of the play. Niamh Cusack is horribly unforgiving as the vindictive Edith Davenport, but does show moments of humanity. In the lead role of Alma Rattenbury, Anne-Marie Duff provides a stellar performance, showing the horribly contradictory nature of someone troubled by inner termoil and all the while remaining incredibly reserved.

Although this is a strong, accomplished and striking production, it is difficult not to question Rattigan’s insistence on reminding us that Alma’s ethics are questionable, taking away the decision from the audience. There is no doubt that this is a dramatic piece of theatre, but Cause Célèbre makes it evident that Rattigan should never be held in too high esteem by the British theatrical establishment.