Wednesday, November 24, 2010

13 plays in 17 days? OK!

Alright, so technically they weren't all plays. But 'theatrical performances' didn't have quite the same ring. You ready for this? Let's go.

NB: Man, I wish I had written this all down after I had seen each play. I wish I had held on to the even the finest details of each of these productions. So, I'm not going to bother reviewing them all properly, I'm not in the right frame of mind, and besides, I'm sure I won't say anything that the Guardian hasn't said better. But I do have some thoughts here and there.


1. After the Dance by Terrance Rattigan at the National Theatre - Sunday 11th July

http://www.guardian.co.uk/stage/2010/jun/09/after-the-dance-theatre-review

Everything about this production was fine - the dialogue was witty, the actors were engaging, the costumes were glamorous. But one thing it wasn't was memorable.


2. All My Sons by Arthur Miller at the Apollo - Monday 12th July
http://www.guardian.co.uk/stage/2010/may/28/all-my-sons-michael-billington


An all-star cast performance with David Suchet (ie Poirot), Zoe Wanamaker (Madame Hooch from Harry Potter, amongst more important things) and Jemima Rooper (remember Lost in Austen? Yeah, that girl. But don't hold it against her, she's really is very talented). Oh, and a WAAPA grad. Who'd have thunk it? Though not my favourite Arthur Miller play (I think Death of a Salesman will always claim that title for me - too many brilliant associated memories), this production of All My Sons was somewhat of a masterpiece. The director and cast really played with the text, bringing out every nuance of light and shade in the quintessentially Miller dialogue.

However, I do have one small criticism. Though the acting was exceptional - tear your heart out, lump in the throat, shivers down the spine exceptional - most of the actors, including Suchet and Rooper, being British, just didn't nail the American accent. It's something I proceeded to encounter in a number of subsequent productions, this sort of almost-there-but-not-quite, that doesn't detract from the performance per say but just calls for a stronger suspension of disbelief.

Certainly didn't stop me from tearing up when Wanamaker heart-breakingly finishes the play with 'Live... forget now... live.'


3. Through a Glass Darkly at the Almeida Theatre - Tuesday 13th July


For me, the play had very little to do with her supposed religious calling, and much more to do with her mental illness and the way it affected her family, or was caused by her family, or calmed by family. The intricate interaction between the characters in the play, and the characters in her head.

It was so frighteningly real, by the end of it I was almost sobbing because it's so terrifying to watch a person break down like that right in front of you. But it was more than that. You felt her pain, her confusion, her paranoia, her struggle so acutely it began to manifest within you, and you felt yourself going mad in empathy. And that what theatre's supposed to be, right?

I came out of the theatre shaking, swearing I never wanted to feel like that again, in awe that Ruth Wilson - and indeed the rest of the quartet - has the strength to become - that - every night. But then, as the shakes subsided, I realised how incredible it felt to feel something that strong even just be association. Imagine the catharsis Wilson et al must feel every night - how sublime. And I realised: I would do it. I would make myself that insane, go through that agony, every day of the run, get so deep inside that character you have to you have to physically rip yourself out after every performance just to keep functioning. To be part of a production like that, to portray a woman as interesting as that, to perform a play as important as that... I would do it.


4. As You Like It directed by Sam Mendes at the Old Vic - Wednesday 14th of July

A much needed light-hearted romp after light night's still-haunting darkness. Though, darkness came regardless. Just while Rosalind is reading a letter, there was a complete blackout in the theatre. Apparently it affected much of the Waterloo area and we had to wait for 20 minutes for the production to be back up and running. What was so great was the actors' quick-thinking responses to the blackout: 'Ah, someone seems to have blown out the candle, the rest of the letter I cannot make out...' and 'Pray tell me, where didst I get up to before?'

It was a brilliant production, the dialogue was conversational, natural but quick and clever, and carefully considered. Just how I like my Shakespeare: well done. The forest was minimal but effective, with shadows making multiplying the few bare trees on the stage. Being an ensemble project, the cast really fed off one another which was great to see. I think it was a production companies for young people would have really learned a lot from.

During the curtain call I always watch the interactions between the actors on stage, those little grins they give each other, the small comment, a quick laugh. A happy glance. It's about now that I start to think that maybe it's not such a good idea for me to be watching so much theatre. Because with each production, with each curtain call, I become more and more restless in my seat. Every show makes me more sure. I'm afraid to admit how much I want to be up there with them, part of that world, their world. I don't want to be a spectator anymore. Not only. But I'm terrified of what I know that means.

So what do I do? I see more theatre.



5. Political Mother by Hofesh Shechter at Sadler's Wells - Thursday 15th July


Eat your heart out, Jardi Tancat. Talk about manipulation of motifs derived from folk dance to portray the struggles of the people. I'm going to keep this as short as possible, because once I get started it'll just turn into a 6000 word essay on the manipulation of space, time and dynamics, and that's a head space I really don't want to get into on my year-long holiday but really easily could because - CONFESSION - I actually really enjoyed writing dance essays. BUT NOT TODAY, CHILDREN.

Right, well, first of all, I was sitting so far back I thought the musicians were supposed to appear headless. Which maybe I should tell Shechter about, because it was a pretty cool artistic element - those beating the drums, those providing the rhythm that both allowed and dictated the rhythms in the movement, were faceless. A omnipresent, anonymous presence. Or, that's just me trying to make the most out of my £10 seat.

You know, given the almost constant head-thrashing metal music, and the repetitive, ungraceful movements of the dancers, this was not a performance that I enjoyed watching. But it was certainly one I appreciated very much. The control these dancers had over their bodies was incredible - how they knew the exact degree in which to give in to or defy gravity; how the movement could be curved, slumped even, seemingly imprecise, then suddenly flick; the unity they were able to create despite the movement flowing colloquially. Twitching, contorting, slumping into these ugly, emotive, painful shapes, while the music pounded relentlessly in my ear. I'll admit it was a relief when it was over, but the performance stayed with me long after and I realised I actually wanted to watch it again - see those amazing bodies create that agony, that frustration, anger, helplessness, defeat. So that maybe I could start to understand.


6. Legally Blonde the Musical at the Savoy Theatre - Friday 16th July.


And now for something COMPLETELY different. Listen, before you start judging me, I went because everyone was raving about it and there were like a million critics who said it was amazing, hilarious, fun, endearing, expectation-exceeding, blah blah blah. They were all wrong (that includes YOU, Michael Billington. I don't care if you do write for the Guardian). What it really was was insulting to my intelligence (and sort of to women in general), humiliating for those on stage and a complete disregard of everything that made the movie so great. And worst of all? The audience lapped up every second of it.

You know, maybe I'm exaggerating. But only slightly. Yes, okay, some of the actors were quite funny, they all had their little moments. And I suppose it could be seen as 'fun'... maybe I'm taking it all a bit too seriously. And, by all accounts the Broadway production is legitimately good. Not that I'm going to spend the money to find out. But I think the reason I didn't enjoy it whilst supposedly respectable critics did was that I love the movie, and they don't. Because they immediately write off the movie as trash, and because this production treats the movie like trash, I guess it's a match made in heaven.

Firstly, instead of Elle making the decision to grow as a person, she is almost forced by others who make those changes for her, completely negating the self-power and integrity shown by Woods in the film which should be the whole focus of Elle's character development and what makes her so endearing. It's what gets us on her side. It's what stops her from being 'just another blonde'. Instead, in an attempt to be 'humorously self-deprecating', they turn her into a caricature of a caricature, making her completely unrelatable (is that not a word?) and thus she never grows out of the ditz, the joke, everyone thinks she is to begin with.

The choreography was fairly cringe-worthy. The chorus of sorority girls so nasal and high pitched beyond any comedic effect I had to block my ears, though I'm sure most of the sounds they were making only dogs could hear. The music itself was unremarkable, in fact rather cliche, with the exception of a few brilliant numbers ('Ireland', 'Gay or European'), and contained no layers, no depth. Also, remember what I was saying before about British performers and American accents? Yeah, ouch. Bit awkward at times.

All this said, the production really lifted its game in the second act. I even started to enjoy myself a little. So, while I didn't come out hating it, Edwina and I spent the next two hours sitting on Trafalgar Square steps enthusiastically discussing everything we could have done to make it better.


7. Hair at the Gieguld Theatre - Saturday 17th July


My god, what a ridiculously talented bunch of young people! It was a very interactive show, lots of young hippies grinding provocatively in your face or handing you flowers. While I have my doubts about the plot, or lack thereof, and the book, the people really made this performance. Their voices blended so perfectly with one another and they were such a strong ensemble who really supported each other. You could just tell how happy they were to be on stage and their energy was electrifying. At the end, when they're singing 'Let the Sun Shine In' (the soloists being one of the most incredible young vocalists I've ever seen) their voices fill every bit of the space so powerfully. Not for the first time, and certainly not for the last, I craved to stand with them, sing with them, cry with them. Maybe then I'd feel full too.

Oh, and I got really excited because I was like 'Finally, some really brilliant American accents on the West End!'... and then I realised it was the touring Broadway cast. Oh. That explains it.



8. War Horse with the National Theatre at the New London Theatre - Monday 19th July


Now that... is theatre.

Renders me completely speechless, as you can probably tell.

Which doesn't usually happen, as you can probably tell.


9. Prisoner of 2nd Avenue by Neil Simon at the Vaudeville Theatre - Wednesday 21st July


What can I say? I thought this play was hilarious and touching. Absolutely loved it. Goldblum, Ruehl: you're both champs.


10. Avenue Q at Wyndhams Theatre - Friday 23rd July


Yes, okay, yes, this was my fourth time seeing Avenue Q (3rd on the West End). It's become a bit of a tradition. See, every time the cast changes (which happens to be when I'm in town), I hit the Ave Q to see what the fuzz is about. (See what I did there?) Only this time is the last time because - tragically - it has finished. Whilst Mamma Mia still goes strong. There is no justice in the world. Though this cast (nor any other) could ever exceed the original West End cast I saw four years ago, they certainly did not disappoint. Even with my crazy-high standards for Kate Monster after seeing Julie Atherton perform it perfectly twice. But her replacement had the same emotional energy though her voice and puppet control was slightly inferior, which still makes her amazing.

This musical just makes me so happy.



11. Coppelia at the Royal Opera House - Saturday 24th July


I'd been to the ballet at the Royal Opera House 3 times before and everyone time sitting (or standing) in the back row. And this time was no exception. Experiencing the theatre like a proper pleb, I am. It was the first time I'd ever seen Coppelia, and I gotta admit, a tad underwhelmed. Except the last act, those solos were awesome. But it's a cute little story nonetheless, I guess I was expecting more of an epic, but the ballet as a whole is rather endearing. And the lead was effortlessly awe-inspiring - the best kind. And the dance acting provided me with much amusement - I really do love to hate it, it just looks so ridiculous!



12. The Tempest directed by Sam Mendes at the Old Vic - Monday 26th July

http://www.oldvictheatre.com/whatson.php?id=58

Is it just me, or is the Tempest just a little bit shit? Soz, Shakespeare buddy, defs not your best. So although Sam Mendes and the wonderful cast from As You Like It did what they could, I just couldn't help but be a tad bored, and found my mind wandering, half hoping for another blackout to liven things up a tad. You know, for a play all about magic, it certainly doesn't contain much itself.


13. La Bete by David Hirson at the Comedy Theatre - Wednesday 28th July

One of those times when you have to ask - what are the big names really doing there? While it was a huge novelty to see the great Joanna Lumley on stage, her character - through little fault of her own - was completely nondescript and could have been played by anyone. Massive highlight though, was the character Valere's very long opening monologue consisting entirely in rhyming couplets which was brilliantly performed and extremely funny. That is, when you're actually paying attention. Which was hard to do for the entire 25 minutes. The whole play - which is very eccentric, set in 1654 and written in rhyming couplets, and just generally a bit bonkers - actually falls a little flat. Whether that was the fault of the writer or the director it's hard to say, but my immediate thought at the end was: 'Is that it?'



'Wow,' I'm sure you're thinking, 'You must be really sick of theatre now.'

But you ain't seen nothing yet. You think 13 shows in 17 days is a considerable effort? Try 2-4 shows in 1 day.

Next stop: Edinburgh Fringe Festival.

posted by Tamara at 9:29 PM 1 Comments