Tag Archives: Erin Doherty

Review – Unicorn, Garrick Theatre, London, 1st March 2025

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Take a writer of some renown, a gifted cast including national treasures, and an intriguingly saucy subject that offers endless dramatic opportunities, and tickets will fly out of the door. And indeed, our Saturday matinee proudly boasted House Full notices confirming that this was an irresistible theatrical prospect for the early bookers.

Polly and Nick, successful in their careers, long time married with kids, find their bedroom antics are not what they were. Nick stifles any disappointment in that department by concentrating on work and other community activities. Polly is keener on scratching that itch and becomes besotted with one of her mature students, Kate. But Polly doesn’t think it’s fair simply to have an affair behind Nick’s back, thus creating the suggestion of a throuple – and Kate’s up for this, being a unicorn: “a bisexual person who is willing to join an existing couple, often with the presumption that this person will date and become sexually involved with both members of that couple”. Where would we be without Urban Dictionary?

Many years ago, when I was gainfully employed, I attended a training course which discussed ways in which a manager could coax, cajole, encourage, coach, convince, etc a member of staff to do something that you wanted them to do; and there are all sorts of methods you can successfully employ. But sometimes, when all else fails, you need to fall back on the old solution of JFDI – Just F***ing Do It.

And that was what came to mind during the first Act of Unicorn, where Polly and Nick huff and puff about the rights and wrongs of doing something that they’re both tempted to do but don’t, thus creating approximately an hour of nothing really happening. The second Act starts more promisingly – two years have passed, and things have considerably changed. Polly and Nick are no longer together; she kicked him out after having an affair. But then they are drawn back to the prospect of the throuple, and we’re back to Square One.

Mike Bartlett puts his characters through all sorts of rigours before getting to the final scenes, many of which I found extremely unbelievable. Nick, whose natural reticence and lack of curiosity makes him totally unsuitable for the polyamorous set-up, has more than one affair and, although unhappy, has moved on. Polly, never wanting to set eyes on him again, takes comfort in her relationship with Kate. But Bartlett forces the three back together again in what feels a very contrived and inorganic plot development. The most likely element to play a part in their lives forward, their children, are completely ignored. Not content with that, he then pours pestilence and plagues of locusts on them, by having one character lose parents in a car crash and another diagnosed with cancer. It put me in mind of Thomas Hardy’s predilection for fatalistic misery to befall his characters, just because he could.

The result is not only a Marathon of Misery, but also surprisingly boring. Visually, it’s one of the most static productions I’ve ever seen, just a sequence of characters sitting down on a sofa, or a bench, or a pair of chairs, moaning away about how everything is not working. You don’t get any sense of drama or, indeed, any kind of action at all. It’s more like a reading than a play. Information is deliberately withheld from the audience in an attempt, I presume, to introduce some suspense or tension, but it doesn’t materialise. Elements of politics and death are crowbarred in. The structure of the play gets vandalised towards the end by becoming an irritating series of short scenes on the couch, separated by quick lighting changes, giving a very unbalanced sense to the play as a whole.

Does it have any redeeming features? Yes. The scene changes are almost magical, in that the stage goes dark and when the lights return, everything is different; a truly slick operation. There are also some extremely funny lines; about six, I would estimate. And with a cast like Nicola Walker, Stephen Mangan and Erin Doherty, you know you are in the safest of hands to give very good performances; but even so, I was surprised at the lack of any form of sexual tension or chemistry between them. Problematically, you don’t really care about any of the characters – it’s not that they’re unlikeable, it’s just they’re barely there.

There’s probably a very good play lurking somewhere here, but it’s not even fighting to get out, it’s just languishing in the background. Some plays get better the more you reflect on them after the curtain comes down; this is the opposite. I can imagine this would have worked better as a short story, because there’s just no drama. Because of the quality of the performances, I can’t give this one star.

Two Disappointing For More!

 

Review – The Crucible, Olivier Theatre, National Theatre, London, 26th October 2022

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You don’t need me to introduce Arthur Miller’s The Crucible to you, gentle reader – if you do, where have you been all your life? Justifiably a contender for the best play of the 20th century, this 1953 allegory linking the Salem Witch Trials of 17th century Massachusetts with McCarthyism, where the Committee for Un-American Activities was trying to sniff out communists, is the stuff of legend. It’s powerful, it’s accurate, and it’s timeless; even more so than ever today. As I was watching it,I realised how seamlessly it fits into today’s politics; in a post-Brexit world, where Remoaners are blamed for a condition of the state’s own making. Yes, I know that’s political statement – but it’s a political play.

Director Lyndsey Turner and designer Es Devlin have taken a very bold staging decision. Heavy rain lashes down around the perimeter of the stage, from the moment the audience starts entering the auditorium. It’s a stunning image, which continues up until the play starts, then resumes for the interval and at other scene change moments.In years to come, this staging feat is what this production will be remembered for. However, even without the rain effect, this is still a superb production, with great staging, terrific performances, and a feeling of more relevance than ever before.

That’s why I question the decision to impose the rain on the production. The unfortunate theatregoers in the front row have to spend the entire performance (three hours including the interval) in rain ponchos. I can only assume they’re really uncomfortable, squeaky and splashy, probably sweaty, their programmes, coats, jumpers, bags etc getting soaked, and impossible to enjoy their interval Merlot, all in the cause of art. It also starts to smell a bit, as the play progresses. Personally I think putting the public through this special kind of hell comes under the heading of dissing the audience, one of my pet hates. My other problem with it is that it doesn’t even enhance our understanding of what the play’s all about. This is a play that’s riddled with substance in every line. But the rain effect is pure theatricality – style over substance – completely the reverse, imho, of what Miller intended. As you can tell, I’m not a fan of the rain!

And it’s a shame because every other aspect of this production is tremendous. The full Olivier stage is used to great effect, whether it’s overwhelming you with rows and rows of pews or recreating the court of law. The ensemble of young women who (apparently) see the devil at every angle are genuinely terrifying in their collective fervour, as transfixed in the presence of evil as you could possibly imagine. Their minutely choreographed mass hypnosis is extraordinary to witness.

All the performances are superb; perhaps the standouts are Brendan Cowell’s dignified, powerful and unbending John Proctor, Nick Fletcher’s vicious Rev Parris, Erin Doherty’s insolent and aggressive Abigail Williams, Matthew Marsh’s authoritarian Deputy Governor Danforth, and Karl Johnson’s plucky and brave Giles Corey. Eileen Walsh gives an excellent performance as the reserved Elizabeth Proctor, Fisayo Akinade is also excellent as the voice of reason Rev John Hale, and there’s great support from Tilly Tremayne as Rebecca Nurse, Alastair Parker as Thomas Putnam, Henry Everett as Judge Hawthorne and Nathan Amzi as Ezekiel Cheever.

Perhaps the most impressive aspect to the play – and this production – is its ability to stir up a sense of true injustice in the audience. As I was watching it, I was fuming at the way all the decent people were being sacrificed on the altar of downright lies, and duped by those too stupid to recognise the truth and by those who allowed themselves to be swayed by their own bias. If they come gunning for you, remember to be like Giles Corey and insist on more weight. It is immeasurably powerful. Powerful enough, fortunately, to survive the whim of a design gimmick and still come out with five stars!


Five Alive, let Theatre Thrive!