The Euros have kicked off. Dear England is returning to the West End. Is football coming home? They hope so in 1553.
This is the second play I have seen at the Royal Court focusing on historical football fans and their livelihoods around this time. Prior, Gunter featured this similar focus, pulling off into witchcraft and female alienation. The Bounds touches on this slightly, but this play is a bit more than that. It is about divides in place, in status, in religion. Dark but comical, and somehow relatable.
In London, there is currently a focus on regional plays and characters: Nye, based on the Welsh pioneer Nye Bevan; Boys From the Black Stuff, based in 80s Liverpool, and now The Bounds, again, bringing regional writing and theatre, from Newcastle. It feels like a rich time to bring these stories into the city and open up to other stories.
Rowan and Percy, as far as we can tell by their immediate interactions, are old friends. Grown up as some of the working class of the area, their only joy is to take part in this huge football game that spans miles between towns. There’s a modernisation to their attitudes and it is something we relate to, whether football fans or not. And somehow this is also pretty comical – a lively fan, impoverish and of an ancient time, shouting and bursting with excitement of a football game. The rapport between Rowan and Percy is natural, on beat and quick in succession. The back and forth “banter” sets the precedence for the play, and we relax into the setting.
That is until is goes all wrong. A appearance of a stranger changes this; suspicions arise, wariness unfolds and a secrecy is prevalent. This interaction starts off quite comical but soon it gets dark, with visions unnatural and non-nonsensical. When lighting changes and these “visions” appear, we are drowned in a sense of foreboding, an end of the world mystique and soon the laughter is long gone. We are forced to think of our own mortality, of the status of our World and it is an uncomfortable setting, with the actors almost making us teeter on the edge for a surprise that never comes.
The Bounds is a fantastic play, making you relax into a sense of security only to be directly pulled out of it. Combinations of the writing, actors and the stage/set all culminate to make something riveting and (in a good way) uncomfortable.
Beautiful Evil Things is performed over seventy-five minutes by Deborah Pugh on her own. She performs in a simple costume on a minimal set, mainly consisting of microphones on stands, but the lighting and sound effects backing up her performance are complex and continuous (including surtitles ). Pugh’s performance shows everything has been carefully considered – every sentence in the monologue weighed, every movement across the stage planned. All the people mentioned in the handout programme make their absence felt.
Hard work is also one thing you think of, watching and listening. You can’t help but wonder how taxing Pugh’s delivery must be on her voice. Her seventy-five minutes are a tour de force. I wasn’t worried she would be unable to sustain her energy level, but I did think she might have vocal problems if she ever had to perform six days running.
This led me on to consider how her material, drawn mainly from The Iliad, might have been delivered originally. The epic must have been declaimed and sung over an extended period because it is so long. Could a single poet have managed it?
– Which might seem a sideways consideration in a review but Beautiful Evil Things is intended to make audiences think. It reworks a small selection of stories from The Iliad to tell them from a female perspective. The narrator – Pugh’s main character – is the severed head of Medusa, the gorgon who would turn you to stone if you looked into her eyes. Medusa was there throughout the Trojan war, her head strapped to the shield of Athene. She comments on what took place, like a BBC front line reporter.
Pugh also incarnates a slew of other female characters including Athene, Hecuba, Cassandra, Penthesilea (the Amazon queen) and Clytemnestra. She does cameos of Achilles and Perseus and mimics the voices of Zeus, Poseidon and Apollo. She narrates, declaims, explains, wisecracks, mimes, gesticulates, poses, glares, smiles, laughs and cries. She takes her audience on a roller coaster ride and if she makes any slips or takes any wrong turnings, they are not noticeable. Like Medusa she becomes mesmerising. Her body is so essential I was not surprised to find out both she and her two co-artistic directors are graduates of Jacques Lecoq’s École Internationale.
Although Homer provided Western civilisation with one of its cornerstone narratives, we are not obliged to use the mythic material in the way he chose to do. Pugh and Ad Infinitum are free to present the interconnected stories as they want, although they run the risk of being overshadowed. Homer organised his material with a clear artistic purpose. He wanted to illustrate the beautiful tragedy of the warrior hero and the end of the era he personified. Hence, The Iliad is a macho story par excellence. Women are not irrelevant – the Trojan war is fought over a woman – but it was left to Racine, well over two thousand years later – to show them as tragic figures in their own right.
Ad Infinitum want their audience to think and cross reference like this. I wondered how interesting Beautiful Evil Things might be for those who had never read any Greek myths, for whom the background of the capricious gods and the wide range of historic characters had no resonance.
This is one problem the piece encounters. A second one is connected to it. To ensure that no-one is left wondering who a character might be, Pugh is obliged to step out of character to explain. This slows the imaginative momentum of the piece down, especially as the explanations have to be accompanied by modernistic reductio ad absurdums – ‘Life of Brian’ style.
And Pugh’s Medusa with snakes instead of hair, is scary but only in the way a pantomime villain is. So when Cassandra becomes increasingly important in the narrative, I was unsure if she was meant to be a pathetic, a bit funny in the head – or someone whose communication barrier anyone and everyone can identify with. The show’s purpose might have been better served if either Cassandra or Clytemnestra had been the focus – if the company had adopted Racine’s approach.
The overall impact, the success of the piece, is determined by the use of the varied material. Watching it being demonstrated and thinking about what it all means becomes a bit demanding. After an hour and a quarter, I felt I had been harangued, startled, prodded and amused but I didn’t feel entirely comfortable. Perhaps this was because there were no relaxed moments, no variation in the tempo. Pugh is fast and furious throughout her monologue and the semi happy ending simply finishes everything off. It’s not a very satisfying conclusion.
There could have been some softening, some stillness. Another dimension would have provided the show with more contrast and impact. This variation could have been provided by music and/or singing, i.e. in the way the original epic was delivered. More poetry, for want of a better word, and less rhetoric might have alleviated the strain of paying so much attention throughout.
Pugh does deserve the five-star accolades that she has been receiving for the effort she puts in, and the company also deserves congratulations for so carefully assembling a thought-provoking piece of theatre. I’d just prefer to see a play entirely of their own devising, with performances that didn’t require any running commentary for the audience’s benefit; a performance where an audience could be more confident of what their response to the work should be.
Theatr Clwyd also deserves recognition for programming Beautiful Evil Things. It was something different and well worth experiencing. Despite it being a cold windy Friday March night in North Wales, a good-sized audience was present on the night, filling over three quarters of the house. I’m sure they, like me, would be glad to see more work by Ad Infinitum in the future.
Starting with a bold statement – as any critic, I try not to go into a show with any bias or preemption. I firstly did not intend to go, for sadly, Dominic West. I’ve seen him in many things and never been the biggest of fans. But after seeing him and Callum Scott Howells speak about it on the TV, I decided to go. Boy, am I glad I did.
A View From The Bridge is a classic play by Arthur Miller. Known primarily for his work being based in America and its history, this play focuses on the flux of immigration to New York and the relationships built between new generation New Yorkers and their families back in their mother lands. West plays the main protagonist; the pillar of the family, all encompassing and ever loving to his orphaned niece from his wife’s side. When his wife’s stranger cousins come over to earn money, after starving and struggling in Italy, relationships become tense and feelings and thoughts arise from under the surface.
There is first to say that all the acting and general performances were perfection. Not a line was tripped over, not a pause where it was not meant to be; even slight slips like a flying piece of apple when cutting one to share is handled by the performers with grace and a natural nature. Their interactions feel real and wholesome, so when events begin to deteriorate, there are audible gasps and fear and sadness of the breakdown of these relationships. The shocking moments are really shocking and this is all made effective by the sense that we are breaking into the forth wall.
West is sublime. Yes, all the accents are a little hammed up and feel stereotypical of the New York Italian community during this era (1920-40’s) but when you get used to it, words are articulated with precision and West’s change from doting and loving uncle to something more jealous and sinister is a gradual change that is impeccably done. When Scott Howells joins, he is much more Italian and it, again, is a little dramatic but it works. When moments are serious, it feels real and feels serious and he commands the stage as much as West; which works brilliantly when they begin their intense dislike of one another.
Supporting cast and ensemble slot into their positions just as well and each command the stage in their own way at some point. The women, mainly Kate Fleetwood and Nia Towle, who, during this era are likely meant to be seen and not heard, are actually fiercely independent, which makes the break down and eventual end all the more heartbreaking. They both present completely different characters and sides of womanhood and in their own right take up space and perform with every inch of their souls.
There is something to say about some ensemble however; there are very small moments when a crowd is gathered and all of about 5 minutes at a time. It maybe happens twice, and while the ensemble do their jobs brilliantly, it did feel slightly unnecessary and as if they were not being used to their potential. If the play had just been the main characters, this would have worked just as well. Similarly, it was wonderful to see an un-microphoned performance; going back to the tradition of using skill and enunciation to perform. So when there is a brief interjection of sound to suggest someone calling outside the house, it’s a little strange and somewhat unnecessary, seeing as they had already been calling off stage successfully before this.
Over all, despite my reluctance, A View From The Bridge was utterly fantastic. Equally lovable and heartbreaking, Miller’s well known play is brought to life in what feels like a new and fresh way; natural and intense enough to feel as if we are intruding into real life.
In this square bit of carpet, a duo bring a story of abuse, mental health and difficult relationships.
Faye’s home was broken into; she had come home drunk and therefore, the timings and activities are a blur. She’s not sure what has happened… but she is sure. She hasn’t slept and then, by rekindling her relationship with her brother, she enlists his help to “cure” her. But what develops are home truths, forgotten abuse and no cure in sight.
This harrowing and intense story is mostly based on the verbal interaction between Faye and her brother Naoise. They are rekindling their relationship after a year of no contact after the home invasion. Soon, truths come out on both sides and the change of blame and shocking events switches between the two. It is more than easy for us to side with Faye as a female suffering with trauma, but the story often takes a turn, putting her in the position of the abuser. It is shocking to say the least but important in highlighting the lack of gender in trauma and abuse.
The elevation of the story, interspersed with “flashbacks” that have been heightened by music and dance, add a theatrical element and to some degree is rather comical. But as it repeats, as the story descends into chaos and fear, these become more intense. McCurry’s (Faye) descent into madness, while trying to be rational is a triumph and ultimately shocking. The reaction by her brother and his physical show of fear shows that this isn’t normal and we soon jump to his side, full of fear and worry.
The energy between them is palpable and some when the most shocking moments happen, a pin could drop with the shock and quietness we experience. The changing between theatricality and almost naturalism is seamless and ensuring the important story is told and experienced in a mind blowing way.
Lie Low is a fantastic piece of theatre. It highlights important stories and the impact of trauma, but also of gender-less abuse. Theatrically it is brilliant and does well to change the platform between reality and the imagined.
The Perfect Show is co-produced by Improbable and ZooCo, showcasing that there are no limitations to what you can achieve. ZooCo are pioneers of exceptional accessible theatre, working with d/Deaf and disabled artists as leaders on every project as well as striving to make work that is accessible as possible to disabled audiences.
ZooCo has roots in the company being joint 2022 winners of The Oxford Samuel Beckett Theatre Trust Award, which supports the development of emerging theatre-makers engaged in bold, challenging and innovative performance.
Perfect show for Rachel presents chilled & relaxed performances with ounces of creative, immersive expression that uses audience participation to capture what Rachel requested! All performances are infused with creativity from singing, live music playing, improvisation and spontaneity based off Rachel’s choices & adaptability.
The essence of the show features both live captioning and integrated accessibility for d/Deaf and Hard of Hearing audiences. Due to the improvised nature of some parts of the show, some scenes were unapologetically funny and personal in connection to the buzzers Rachel chose from to aid her choices and decision making.
It’s exciting to see how the Barbican will continue their involvement with this unique production. And how the development of how the Perfect Rachel’s show evolves to reflect Rachel’s ever-evolving artistic incentives as she takes charge of crafting her story and showcasing her creativity as you step into Rachel’s world as she creates her perfect show.
The production runs from Fri 24 May—Sun 9 Jun 2024, more information here
From the writer and director behind the award-winning hit Netflix film adaptation: Kata Wéber and Kornél Mundruczó, Battersea Arts Centre and The Adam Mickiewicz Institute present the UK stage premiere of TR Warszawa’s Pieces of a Woman.
Pieces of a woman is centred around the depths of love, passion, solidarity, life, loss as well as new beginnings, grievance, bereavement, overcoming adversity whilst simultaneously coming to terms with redefining our identities when on the verge of losing a sense of who we are.
This production delves deeply into multiple realities that can hinder, distract and inflict pain, conflict and demise. Each character displaying nobility, beauty, truth and sincerity, bringing real life emotions to life on stage. The delivery of Polish culture was strongly referenced in this play, offering fresh perspectives of feminism and individualism.
The special elements of this production were the unique angles, lens and shots smartly projected on to the well designed stage door. It was an extremely rare aspect that gave this play a nice touch, offering a different experience of multimedia used within theatre. It was not possible to notice the hidden camera men that were out of the audiences peripheral in real time, live recording the set behind the massive staged door to display the several room spaces of the couples family home whilst they acted, occasionally coming out of that space.
Everything that remained both open and closed off to the audience took on different variations and interpretations of transitions which worked its wonders when leading to climaxes, tension and momentum, ensuring to leave all on the edge of their seats.
Overall, Pieces of a woman is refreshing, insightful, thrilling, unpredictable and cultural. Unapologetically displaying vulnerability and fragility, making this production equally magnifying, hypnotising, thought-provoking and intensifying throughout! The casting, lighting cues and mis-en-scene has been well choreographed, directed and produced.
To see a world class performer at the height of his game is a wonderful thing to behold.
To see Usain Bolt at London 2012, or Freddie Mercury at Live Aid are two moments such as this.
The third is Michael Sheen as Aneurin Bevan in Nye the National Theatre/Wales Millennium Centre co-production currently playing at Wales Millennium Centre in Cardiff.
He delivers a masterful performance as Nye Bevan, the architect of the NHS. His portrayal captures Bevan’s passionate commitment to social justice, his fiery oratory skills, and the personal sacrifices he made for his vision. Sheen’s nuanced acting brings depth to Bevan’s character, portraying him not just as a historical figure but as a man driven by a profound sense of duty and compassion. This role showcases Sheen’s ability to inhabit complex characters and make them resonate powerfully with contemporary audiences.
The ensemble and staging are breath-taking as is the storytelling and how it’s portrayed. Granted at the start, a little confusing, but the beat of the narrative is soon at a pace where the viewer is able to tell different times. The staging and direction effectively evoke the era, immersing the audience in the political and social challenges of the time.
It will take you on an emotional rollercoaster and you’ll see historic references which in turn are as truthful today as they were then – maybe more so now with so much heart behind the story.
Overall, “Nye” is an inspiring and poignant celebration of a pivotal figure in British (and Welsh) history.
Cassa Pancho, the founder, Artistic dDirector & CEO of Ballet Black has again showcased raw, passionate and tightly synchronised works, with new choreography by Sophie Laplane and Mthuthzeli November. The first piece on the bill is entitled; About it First, exploring the themes ‘heroism & its complexities’ of everyday people, & everyone’s oblivion, inability & disservice to recognise heroic acts at times. We also witness competitiveness & vanity due to social media’s addictive streak in bringing out others ego in being recognised & acknowledged, as well as non-attempts to be seen and how everyone’s relationship with heroism plays out differently in the ordinary & the extraordinary.
The soundtrack includes music from Ludwig von Beethoven to Michelle Gurevich, with original sections composed by Tom Harold. The ambience throughout each dance set is eclectic & magnetic. The piece delved deeper into the themes; resolution, kindness, community orientation & mutual support, foretelling how heroism can act out in our daily lives. Each cast member’s unique tenacity combined with depth, energy and melody, additionally told a unique, empowering story of the human spirit. With sparkly jackets and other interesting detail to the Ballet Black casts outfits due to costume designer: Jessica Cabassa.
The second piece ‘The Waiting Game‘ offers a different spin of being torn between work-life balance, fine tuning between sanity & reality, navigating through uncertainty, collecting our thoughts & re-building strength, courage, rediscovering purpose and re-gaining hope.
The Waiting Game:
Choreography: Mthuthuzeli November
Music: The Waiting Game (2023) composed by Mthuthuzeli November & Alex Wilson
Lighting Design: David Plater. Original costume designs for 2020 by Peter Todd
From My Neighbour Totoro, to the world acclaimed Spirited Away, Anime theatre is growing as a trend on stage and Studio Ghibli is taking over the scene. Full of Japanese folk magic and stories, the exploration of different culture is hitting mainstream and changing the way of theatre.
Studio Ghibli has a enormous following. It has transferred to memes, popular culture, a staple amongst the alternative and with all films on Netflix, crossing into the more well known. Totoro began this new theatrical stream last year, in partnership with the RSC and has lead the way to new grand and impressive performances.
Spirited Away is the story of Chihiro who gets lost in a magical bathhouse and meets strange creatures and gods along the way. She gets tangled into misadventure on her quest to get back to her parents and her real world. It is comical, strange and magical.
The story begins in a forest and so the stage is already set up for this, foliage creeping into the walls, across boxes and the orchestra pit, giving that sense of immersion and invitation. Generally, the set is incredible: revolving structures, elements that come from the floor, the ceiling, the wings – there is so much to making the ever changing scenes and this happens seamlessly and effortlessly. The set itself is well crafted and beautiful, reflecting to minute detail the scenes and colours in the film itself. It is very much as if the film has been transferred exactly to the stage, supported by exact costuming and theatrical techniques to bring the magical creatures alive.
Puppetry is huge in this piece, with standard puppetry, supported by puppeteers, to fantastic inventions using different sizes of the same character for perspective, surprising use of the auditorium, creating those “wow” moments. The larger creatures range from the building of different pieces together to formulate as one, operated by various puppeteers, to full bodied costumes. The effect is incredible and reflecting almost exactly to the film. No Face, noted for growing in stature throughout, begins as one person – the costuming and movement, almost butoh-esque and bouffon-esque, is unusual and works together to create this figure that is almost human but certainly moves differently. As it grows, more people add to this movement and large props are used. The impression is magnificent and so fantastically well done.
A live orchestra makes this especially special, bringing life to Joe Hisaishi’s well known compositions and filling the auditorium with whimsy. I say it all the time, but there is certainly something awe-inspiring of live music accompanying theatre. While the production is innovative, the live orchestra brings it back to theatrical roots.
What was also brilliant and unlike the recent Totoro, is that, along with keeping to the story almost exactly, the production was in Japanese. It was wonderful to hear original language on a west end stage and enveloped us in that immersion. However, subtitles were supplied but very much at the side of the stage. While I know the story, I felt my head consistently turning to read and unfortunately, this took me away a little from the scene. I felt I missed the beautiful minor elements and some action and likely will have to come and see again without engaging in subtitles.
Spirited Away is magnificent, beautiful and extremely theatrically clever. It is almost a carbon copy from film to stage and a great introduction to Anime but also a proud moment for already existing fans.
What do you expect from a show with such a title? I’m not sure. I wasn’t sure if I was attending satire, a royal love letter or a complete reinvention of Diana Spencer. In a way, it was a little bit of all this and a whole lot more.
We meet Lady Di, in heaven, retelling her * untrue * story of love, loss, death and gay rights. We rush through her life in a whirlwind, facing facts we know from the papers and others that are assumed/invented. Boundaries are blown away, laughter is rife amongst the chaos and reinvention is something of genius.
Linus Karp is the absolute spit of Diana in physical form and in every mannerism. They have it down to a tee in the subtleties and in the elements we know her for; the voice, the slight head tilt, adding other hilarious physicality such as the perceived stiff royal wave. While scripted, there are moments of ad lib which are done in the most Diana of ways and keeping entirely to character. There are certainly moments when you need to remind yourself that this is not the real Diana and this is the untrue story.
Camp, hammed up multi-media and narratives are included, moving a story to something very theatrical, satirical and utterly hilarious. Repeated phrases such as “I am the Queen” or “Whatever X means”, just become funnier and funnier. Expected but always a brilliant theatrical addition. It adds to the chaos and the comedy of it all. Karp is also not afraid to attack conspiracy theories, pop culture references, bold statements, change facts to fit the comical narrative, about the royals and the dark humour of this is done without holding back, which only makes it more genius and more funny.
With this being a 1-2 person cast, many other elements are supported by audience members, prompted by the big screen, to get up, perform and read lines. We have Lady Di’s parents, a corgi, made up nannies… all which threw themselves into the roles and had fun. The audience was spectacular and really took the interaction with all they had. It made the show flow and added to the comedy and enjoyment, to see that they also were having a great time being involved.
Diana: The Untold and Untrue story is a laugh a minute, humorously dark and boundary pushing, with that extra sprinkle of campness: a perfect performance if you want your sides to split while questioning if Diana has been resurrected in front of you.
Creating opportunities for a diverse range of people to experience and respond to sport, arts, culture and live events. / Lleisiau amrywiol o Gymru yn ymateb i'r celfyddydau a digwyddiadau byw
(4 / 5)
(5 / 5)
