London theatre – Page 119

Review: Jane Eyre at the National Theatre

Published on October 2, 2015January 6, 2018 by LizLeave a comment

(Disclaimer: this review was written based on the first preview earlier this month.)

How do you begin adapting a story as epic as Jane Eyre? By making it even more epic, obviously. Charlotte Brontë’s classic and much-loved novel already covers about twenty years in total, beginning when its heroine is 10 years old – but Sally Cookson’s production at the National Theatre goes one better, taking us all the way back to the start of the story.

The opening scene reveals baby Jane’s tragic origins, as she loses first her parents and then her uncle, ultimately ending up the unhappy charge of her aunt Reed at Gateshead. And it’s here that we pick up the familiar story: a passionate and independent young girl, rejected and mistreated by almost everyone who should care for her, until she finally finds love with Mr Rochester, her brooding and brilliantly sarcastic employer. (Did I mention that Mr Rochester is one of my favourite literary leading men?) But all is not as it seems at Thornfield, and when a shocking secret is revealed, it seems Jane will once again be denied her happy ending. The story is part romance, part thriller, and full of twists and turns that keep you guessing right to the end.

Jane Eyre, National Theatre — Maggie Tagney, Felix Hayes, Laura Elphinstone, Madeleine Worrall, Simone Saunders and Craig Edwards. Credit: Manuel Harlan

This adaptation, a co-production with the Bristol Old Vic, is not for the faint-hearted (or weak-bladdered); lasting three and a half hours, it sets out to tell the story in all its detail, and with seemingly limitless energy. The company of incredibly hard-working actors must burn some serious calories, as they walk, run and climb ceaselessly all over Michael Vale’s ladder-strewn set, which resembles a big adventure playground. This constant movement is used particularly effectively in the transitions between scenes, filling in the gaps between the action, whether they last weeks, months or even years.

The play had no script when rehearsals began; it was devised by the company – so it’s no surprise that the small cast work perfectly together. A very physical piece of theatre, it feels at times more like a ballet than a play, the choreography working seamlessly with Benji Bower’s quirky choices of music. (I never would have thought a Gnarls Barkley song would work in a Victorian classic, which just goes to show what I know.) Singer Melanie Marshall stands out a mile in her glamorous red ball gown, an intense but eerily calm Bertha Mason who can wreak havoc with a single glance.

Felix Hayes (Rochester) and Madeleine Worrall (Jane). Credit: Manuel Harlan

Felix Hayes’ Mr Rochester is a bit less elegant and a bit more foul-mouthed than we’re used to, but with an appealing, childlike vulnerability underneath his bushy beard. And Craig Edwards offers some much-needed light relief as a delightfully convincing Pilot the dog; any time he’s on stage the mood in the auditorium palpably lifts, and it’s hard not to watch him as he bounds around the stage. But undoubtedly the star of the show is Madeleine Worrall; she has all the impetuous passion of Jane as a child (so much so that you forget she’s a grown woman), but also the quiet, restrained emotion of the adult. Some of her best moments are when she says nothing at all, but lets her incredibly expressive face and movement do all the talking.

While there’s no doubt that this is a beautiful and very artistic production, it does occasionally feel that with so much time devoted to Jane’s inner monologue (other cast members providing the conflicting voices in her mind) and the passing of time, some of the most significant events are dealt with incredibly briefly – to the point where, if you didn’t know the story, you might wonder what had just happened. (Certainly the people behind us found it necessary to spend a frustrating amount of time discussing the plot in loud whispers.) So, if you haven’t read the book, it might be worth at least Googling the story before you go, to prevent confusion (for you) and irritation (for other people).

This new production is highly original, and not at all what I expected from an adaptation of one of my favourite novels – but that’s what makes it exciting. Without the distraction of spectacular sets or special effects, it becomes a psychological study of one woman’s personal journey, in which every other character and event feels secondary to that purpose. The play may move at a gentle pace, but it’s certainly never boring, as it breathes new life into both the classic story and its inspirational central character.

Can’t see the map on iPhone? Try turning your phone to landscape and that should sort it. I don’t know why but I’m working on it… 😉

Review: And Then Come The Nightjars at Theatre503

Published on September 23, 2015January 6, 2018 by Liz1 Comment

One of my favourite things about theatre is the way it constantly surprises. You go into a play thinking you know what it’s about, and how you’ll react to it – and it turns out you’re totally wrong, in the best possible way.

An example: the unexpected delight that is And Then Come The Nightjars. Written by Bea Roberts, and co-produced by Theatre503 and the Bristol Old Vic Theatre, it’s billed as a story about the foot and mouth crisis that struck Britain’s farms in 2001. Which may not sound like laugh-a-minute stuff, but it turns out this wonderful play is funnier and more uplifting than I could have imagined.

Perhaps that’s because the depressing topic of foot and mouth is only a part of what this two-man play is really about. More than that, it focuses on the relationship between two friends: Michael, a Devonshire farmer, and Jeff, the local vet. The action covers several years, beginning in the early days of the foot and mouth epidemic, and on into the years that follow. Michael and Jeff’s chalk and cheese relationship has its ups and downs, like all friendships, but they’re exacerbated by the crisis, which places them unwillingly on opposite sides. In the years that follow, it’s not only Michael’s farm and the rural community that needs to recover.

So not surprisingly, there are some really poignant moments in Paul Robinson’s production, but there are also a lot of laughs – mostly thanks to the delightful character of Michael, played by David Fielder. With his gruff manner and thick West Country accent, which – as impenetrable as it sometimes is – can’t conceal his fondness for the f word, Michael’s the epitome of the grumpy old man, but with a vulnerability that means you can’t help but love him. Well-spoken and relentlessly cheerful Geoffrey (Nigel Hastings), who fills every silence with pub quiz questions, is Michael’s polar opposite, and yet that’s what makes their friendship so much fun to watch – it shouldn’t work, but somehow it does. The two actors are clearly having fun with their roles; they have great chemistry, and the affection between them is totally believable.

Though everything we see takes place in Michael’s barn, it wouldn’t be true to say that’s where all the action is; Max Dorey’s beautifully rustic set is only half the story. There’s an awful lot happening off stage too, but we don’t need to see it to understand what’s going on, and nor would we necessarily want to. One of the most powerful and heartbreaking scenes takes place at the height of the foot and mouth crisis; as Michael and Jeff stand silent and motionless in the centre of the barn, a flickering orange light tells us all we need to know about what’s occurring outside. It’s simple but incredibly effective – as are the slow interludes between scenes, where subtle shifts in the lighting, designed by Sally Ferguson, mean we can literally see time passing before our eyes.

And Then Come The Nightjars is a moving tale of friendship, and resilience in the face of almost unbearable loss. And it addresses these themes with such warmth and humour that I didn’t want it to end. Who would have thought a story about foot and mouth would be so enjoyable? Certainly not me.

Can’t see the map on iPhone? Try turning your phone to landscape and that should sort it. I don’t know why but I’m working on it… 😉

Review: Back to Blackbrick at Arts Theatre

Published on September 15, 2015July 22, 2018 by LizLeave a comment

I first discovered Patch of Blue when I was asked to review their show Beans on Toast for LondonTheatre1.com. Initially drawn in by the promised combination of lamp light and live folk music, I wasn’t disappointed, and pretty much fell in love with both the play and the company on the spot.

Back to Blackbrick, Patch of Blue’s new production, has just arrived in London’s West End from Edinburgh, and the company kindly invited me along to see it at the Arts Theatre. I went in with worryingly high expectations – Beans on Toast was the first play I awarded five stars to as a reviewer, so they had a lot to live up to – but it soon became clear I had nothing to worry about. I don’t do star ratings here, as you know, but if I did it’s safe to say we’d be looking at another five…

Based on a novel by Sarah Moore Fitzgerald, Back to Blackbrick is the story of Cosmo, whose beloved grandad Kevin has Alzheimer’s, and is gradually slipping away from everything and everyone he loves. Still grieving for his brother Brian, who died on his tenth birthday in a tragic accident, and desperate not to lose Grandad too, Cosmo makes him a promise – to go to Blackbrick Abbey… only to find a sixteen-year-old Kevin waiting, and an opportunity to change the events that have brought the family to this point.

Though the two stories are very different, Back to Blackbrick features many of the same qualities that so appealed to me in Beans on Toast. Both are gently humorous and whimsical, but with the emotional power to reduce you to tears. Both have a cosy fireside storytime feel, and, most significantly, they share a common theme – namely the power of memory, and the fact that even if you’ve lost someone, they’re never really gone as long as the memory of them remains.

I think what I love most about Patch of Blue’s work is that they have a way of drawing the audience in, sharing lives and memories until the characters begin to feel like friends you’ve known for years. Whether it’s Cosmo and Kevin, or Scott and Jen from Beans on Toast, you can’t help but leave the theatre feeling like you’re taking a little piece of them with you (which is also literally true, in a way – but I’ll say no more about that, for fear of spoilers).

Though various cast members lend their voices, Cosmo is predominantly played by Alex Brain, with the perfect combination of bolshy teenager and terrified, vulnerable child. Grahame Edwards is wonderful as poor, confused Grandad, shuffling around the stage in his pyjamas looking lost and bewildered, while Lloyd Bagley provides a counterpoint as the young Kevin, full of energy and optimism as he faces a future full of exciting opportunities. The first-rate cast is completed by Alexandra Simonet and Elizabeth Grace-Williams, who play the two women in Kevin’s life, both past and present.

But actually, to say the cast is complete isn’t quite true, because they’re joined by London folk band Wovoka Gentle, without whom Back to Blackbrick would be an entirely different show. Their gorgeous folk music is a perfect accompaniment to the nostalgic wistfulness of the story, and I’ll definitely be checking them out very soon in their own right.

Back to Blackbrick takes a family-friendly story with an important message (the original novel aimed to educate young adults on the effects of Alzheimer’s), and adapts it beautifully. Full of humour and Irish charm, the play nonetheless packs quite an emotional punch; the cast aren’t the only ones in tears by the time the story reaches its moving conclusion.

I’m so looking forward to seeing what this exciting emerging company do next – based on what I’ve seen so far, it’ll be amazing.

Photo credit: Scarab Pictures

Can’t see the map on iPhone? Try turning your phone to landscape and that should sort it. I don’t know why but I’m working on it… 😉

Review: To Kill a Mockingbird at the Barbican

Published on July 6, 2015January 6, 2018 by Liz1 Comment

Unbelievably, until late last year I’d never read Harper Lee’s classic novel, To Kill a Mockingbird. (My school made us study Of Mice and Men instead.) And so, in a moment of madness, I decided not to see the production at the Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre in 2013 – then regretted it, when everyone started telling me how good it was.

Well, I wasn’t going to make that mistake again, so when the production transferred to the Barbican at the end of a national tour, I jumped at the chance to go and see what all the fuss was about. And now I get it.

For anyone else like me who’s been in the dark all this time, To Kill a Mockingbird is a story about innocence and injustice in the Deep South, seen through the eyes of a young girl, Jean Louise ‘Scout’ Finch. Scout and her brother, Jem, live a comfortable life in the small town of Maycomb, surrounded by the eccentric townsfolk and morbidly fascinated with their reclusive neighbour, Boo Radley. Then their father, Atticus Finch – who both children think is pretty old and boring – is hired to defend Tom Robinson, a black man accused of raping a white woman. Suddenly Jem, Scout and their friend Dill are exposed to a new world, in which an innocent man can be condemned because of the colour of his skin, and the most unlikely characters can suddenly become heroes.

To Kill a Mockingbird, Barbican — Zachary Momoh as Tom Robinson. Credit: Johan Persson – http://www.perssonphotography.com

The charm of the novel lies in its narrator, Scout, who makes us reconsider the horrifying events of the story from a child’s perspective. Timothy Sheader’s production captures that childlike spirit to perfection, as the company take it in turns to read aloud from the novel, slipping into costume to play their part in the story, and crawling around the stage on their hands and knees to draw a rough outline of Maycomb in chalk.

The three young stars of the show – on this occasion played by real-life siblings Jemima and Harry Bennett, with Leo Heller as Dill – give incredible performances. I couldn’t believe it was Jemima’s professional debut; she’s warm, funny and has all the simple innocence of a child, and yet there are moments, particularly when dealing with the men in her life – Jem, Dill and Atticus – where a matter-of-fact young lady can be glimpsed hiding just beneath the surface.

Meanwhile, the true hero of the story, Atticus, is brought to life by Robert Sean Leonard. Seen first through the eyes of his children, he seems a little dry – but his wry smile, and, later, his fierce passion as he stands up for what’s right, soon reveal him to be a far more complex character. Leonard’s performance is spellbinding; I’ve rarely heard a theatre so silent as the moment when he sums up his defence case, with the desperate look of a man who knows it’s probably futile, but is determined to try.

What I enjoyed most about this production, though, is its loving homage to the original text. Each member of the company, as they file on to the stage, picks up a copy of the novel and holds it aloft in a silent salute, before beginning to read. There’s no need for a fancy set or dramatic effects – the production allows Harper Lee’s work to speak for itself in a faithful retelling of a classic story. After all, why change something that was already perfect to begin with?

If you get the chance to see this production before it closes on July 25th, don’t pass it up, because you might live to regret it. To Kill a Mockingbird, like the novel on which it’s based, is deeply troubling and yet, at the same time, utterly charming. It makes you question things that as adults, we tend to take for granted, and leaves you feeling a little like a child yourself. But I think we all need to feel that way from time to time; being a grown up is overrated.

Can’t see the map on iPhone? Try turning your phone to landscape and that should sort it. I don’t know why but I’m working on it… 😉