Review – Power of Sail, Menier Chocolate Factory, London, 7th April 2024

Power of SailDo you remember that rather delicious moment when the students at Brunel University walked out of a meeting when Katie Hopkins got up to speak? That was a perfect way of allowing “free speech” whilst showing one’s contempt for the speaker at the same time. Paul Grellong’s Power of Sail, first seen in the US in 2019, and now making its UK debut, centres on Charles Nichols, a Harvard professor who wants to invite a Holocaust-denying white nationalist to a debate at that illustrious university, thereby upholding the fine tradition of freedom of speech, but then intends to destroy him in argument and make him look like the pathetic wretch he is.

NicholsIt’s pretty much a given that freedom of speech is a supremely important right. Equally, with free speech comes responsibility. For example, I could say that Power of Sail is a load of old tosh (it isn’t) and then Mr Grellong could come back at me and say that I don’t know my luff from my leech, and that’s all perfectly acceptable. However when it comes to hate-based politics, those rights become somewhat blurred. Certainly Professor Nichols’ students are up in arms against his proposal. So is the Dean, who fears the repercussions. So is his young protégé Professor Forrest. But Nichols is determined to see this through; freedom of speech must have its way. A risky proposal for – on the face of it – such a virtuous objective.

Amy and CharlesMr Grellong has structured the play in six scenes, rather like a time version of a boomerang. The first three scenes take us through mid-morning, mid-afternoon and late evening on the same day. Scene Four takes place the following morning and ends with a big revelation that surprises and shocks us. Scenes Five and Six double back on themselves, showing us what happened earlier the previous evening and finally earlier that afternoon. This may sound like a bizarre way of going about things, but the structure does enable missing pieces of the jigsaw to be fitted in, so that by the end of the play we have a much fuller understanding of the motivations of all the characters that otherwise we would have missed if we had just seen the events in linear time. However, a side effect of this structure is that the play ends with a whimper more than a bang. It’s a well-intentioned, character-driven whimper that necessarily makes sense of the whole story; but it’s a whimper nonetheless.

Nichols and AmyThe programme tells us that this production is the result of a play that was written years ago, left in a drawer and then more recently revisited, stripped back, with scenes and characters removed, to leave a sparser and hopefully more truthful and hard-hitting version. There’s no interval – my pet hate – yet there’s a perfect opportunity for a cliffhanger moment that could separate the play into two acts, whilst still retaining its time structure (I won’t say what it is because it’s an important moment of plot development). I suspect the play has been pared back a little too much; the main characters are fascinating creations, and it would have been good to hear more of what they say for themselves. Strangely, scene two, set on a railway station platform, offers little in the way of plot development and I confess I found that scene just trod water. When you assess the play as a whole at the end you realise the scene is not completely pointless, but I can’t help but think the writer could have edited it back more, whilst filling out some of the others. That said, overall it’s a very entertaining script, with some excellent high tension scenes as well as a lot of nicely pitched comedy.

Amy and NicholsDirector Dominic Dromgoole entices some superb performances out of his cast which keep our attention throughout the show, despite the distraction caused by immensely clunky and laborious scene changes that seem to take ages and really add very little to the production – I would have preferred much less set design and for the audience to use their imagination more. At the heart of the play is a terrific performance by Julian Ovenden as Nichols. Bristling with charisma, you can easily imagine how his students are in awe of him; full of bonhomie tinged with just a hint of academic arrogance and the self-satisfaction that he is naturally always right about everything. And like all such people, when you chip away at everything they believe about themselves, you can sometimes reveal a void underneath.

Maggie and AmyTanya Franks is also excellent as the Dean, Amy Katz, a woman juggling many roles and appearing to be thoroughly decent in all of them. Ms Franks plays her as a tough cookie and a voice of reason; but of course, we all have our weaknesses. And the always reliable Giles Terera delivers a strong and confident performance as Baxter Forrest, the media-wise, television presenting professor, who has an unfailing ability to smell a rat and a superb way of expressing unpleasant home truths with enviable eloquence.

Baxter and LucasThere’s excellent support from Katie Bernstein as the highly principled student Maggie who is prepared to risk everything for what she believes in, and from Georgia Landers as the FBI officer Quinn Harris, whose interviewing technique pays off in abundance. Michael Benz gives a terrific performance as Lucas, a likeable young man who seems to blunder his way through life – until you really get to know his character in the final scene. Paul Rider does his best as bartender Frank in what seems like the vestiges of a previously larger role. I’m not sure why Mr Grellong didn’t remove the role completely.

Final sceneA fascinating subject for a play, and in many ways a fascinating play too, although maybe sometimes for the wrong reasons. If you take away one message from it, it’s to watch out for individuals’ motives. They may not always be what they seem. Plenty for you to talk about on the way home. Power of Sail continues at the Menier until 12th May.

Production photos by Manuel Harlan

3-starsThree-sy Does It!

Review – Blues for an Alabama Sky, Lyttelton Theatre, National Theatre, London, 26th October 2022

Blues for an Alabama SkyThe second stage (literally) of our three-part Blitz on the National Theatre was to see Wednesday’s matinee of Blues for an Alabama Sky at the Lyttelton Theatre – Lynette Linton’s acclaimed production of Pearl Cleage’s 1995 play. Set in Harlem in 1930, Angel is a club singer who shares an apartment with her friend Guy, a clothes designer whose dream is to create extravagant outfits for his heroine, Josephine Baker, in Paris. Fired from her job and dumped by her gangster boyfriend, Guy carries her home drunk with the assistance of a handsome passing stranger. Supported by Guy, and their friends Delia (from the adjacent apartment) and Sam, a local doctor, Angel sets about picking up the pieces of her life. But then the passing stranger passes by again, this time deliberately, to see if Angel has recovered, and he doesn’t seem likely to take no for an answer…

CastPlays are peculiar things. A bunch of words on paper, they come to life when transferred to a stage – especially if the creative team behind the production gets it right. This is one such occasion; a superb production that – dare I say it – elevates the words on the page to a level way further than you might expect. Lynette Linton’s direction, Frankie Bradshaw’s set and especially costumes, Oliver Fenwick’s lighting, Benjamin Kwasi Burrell’s music, and so on, all contribute to presenting us with the most elegant of productions. It shrieks class, although it’s far too elegant to shriek.

Angel and LelandThere’s also something about the production – and I can’t quite put my finger on why – that lures the audience into complete involvement with it. So when a character makes a really telling statement, or a very dramatic event occurs, there are audible gasps, even cries, from the audience. To create that link between us and what happens on stage is a rare gift.

DeliaHowever, and it’s quite a big however, I must confess that I didn’t really like the play itself that much. It feels long – I’m sure it could have shaved at least twenty minutes off without losing any of its content. It was, occasionally, a little bit boring. There are a couple of major plot events that are telegraphed a mile off. I don’t believe it’s in Delia’s character to do what she does at the end of the play (no spoilers). And the suggestion in the final scene that Angel is about to embark on some kind of Groundhog Day re-enactment of what has gone before means that nothing has changed, which is  a miserable conclusion, no matter how stylishly it’s conveyed. The direction also triggered one of my pet hates, when imaginary walls that divide rooms or buildings are unnecessarily breached by an actor walking through them. No!! What are you doing!! You’ve just picked that chair up and moved it through a brick wall!

Sam and AngelHaving said that, the play is genuinely fascinating with the development of a character who is absolutely committed to the cause of a woman’s accessibility to both contraception and abortion rights, particularly as it is progressed through promoting it through the church. It also nicely examines the bigotry of the Christian right through the character of Leland, slow to recognise homosexuality in his surroundings simply because he cannot believe it exists in any environment where he might find himself.

AngelThe performances are fantastic throughout and fully justify your decision to buy a ticket! Samira Wiley, in her UK stage debut, is incredible as Angel. She is the kind of performer you simply cannot take your eyes off. No movement, no gesture is wasted; she inhabits the role so fully that you are completely convinced she is Angel. Her singing voice is superb, her emotions get you in the guts, and she’s a dab hand at the comic timing and business too. A remarkable performance. Giles Terera impresses as Guy, with an entertaining range of camp mannerisms and vocal tics that delightfully bring out the humour of the character, but also complement his kindness and his realistic ability to the cut the crap and get to the truth. Ronkẹ Adékoluẹjo is brilliant as Delia, combining her earnestness with her innocence; she brings the whole audience with her on her gentle journey of love with the supportive Sam, another excellent performance from Sule Rimi. And Osy Ikhile is great as the handsome stranger Leland, the epitome of dignity and romance until the brutality of life stretches his patience too far.

Delia and GuyThe superb atmosphere that the production creates never lets up throughout the whole play, even if the play itself does occasionally leave something to be desired. But there’s a delicate mix of comedy and tragedy, fascinating character development, and an incredible connection with the audience which means the good definitely outweighs the not so good.

Production photos by Marc Brenner4-starsFour They’re Jolly Good Fellows!

Review – Blue/Orange, Royal and Derngate, Northampton, 24th November 2021

Blue OrangeWasn’t it F R David who said – and I think it was – Words Don’t Come Easy To Me? Of course, he was “just a music man”, and his “melodies were his best friend”, but his “words were coming out wrong”. It’s a common problem, and rarely seen more acutely than in Joe Penhall’s Blue/Orange, which won both the Olivier and Evening Standard Theatre Award for Best Play when it first appeared in 2000. Now James Dacre, Artistic Director of the Royal and Derngate, has directed a new production of the play which opened in Bath a few weeks ago, visited Oxford en route, and has now finally come to its spiritual home at the Royal and Derngate.

The set-up is deceptively simple. At an NHS psychiatric hospital in London, patient Christopher is itching to leave, having already spent 28 days in its care. Dr Bruce Flaherty, under whose supervision Christopher has been treated, isn’t sure he’s ready to leave, and asks Senior Consultant Robert Smith to sit in on a final consultation for his opinion. Both Robert and Christopher are adamant that he should leave – although for different reasons. Attempting to make Christopher reveal his true mental state, Bruce offers him an orange to eat and challenges him to tell Robert what he thinks its colour is. Blue, is Christopher’s response. And the fruit inside? Also blue. He also manages to make Christopher reveal that his father is Field Marshal Idi Amin of Uganda; perhaps unsurprisingly as he was known as Dada to his friends. Robert suggests that he and Christopher should have a private consultation together. But what is the outcome of that consultation? Are Robert’s motives for wanting Christopher to leave in everyone’s best interests? Has Bruce been as correct in his dealings with Christopher as he should have? And is Christopher satisfied with the way he has been treated? You’ll have to see the play to find out!

This is a cunning play that openly exposes all its secrets without the audience realising it, and then asks us to consider what we had heard earlier and understand it now in a different light. With only three scenes/conversations, all taking place within 24 hours, and all in the same consulting room, it very nearly observes the traditional unities of classical drama. Even the requirement for any cataclysmic event to happen off-stage is recognised, with the important hospital management meeting taking place in a different room whilst we’re all enjoying the interval. It’s fascinating to see the unities being observed in a modern play. It certainly concentrates the mind.

Nevertheless, the play takes a number of themes, from the obvious coping with life in the NHS, to power struggles between colleagues, racial equality within a range of relationships and situations including that of healthcare, and trust and deception. Joe Penhall has slightly revised the play for audiences twenty years on, and for the first time the role of Robert is performed by a Black actor, which changes the racial imbalance of the play in the other direction and adds a different level of complexity to the disagreements that all the characters face. There’s also this question of words. F R David was right, they don’t come easy, or at least the right words don’t. Bruce insists to Christopher that you can’t use the word crazy anymore, and schizophrenia is a complete no-no. He will later discover that there are many other words you can’t use, even when you’re quoting someone else.

There’s no doubt this is a very wordy play; and in the first Act in particular, the conversations become extremely intense, and at times you need to keep your wits about you to make sure you follow everything that’s said. However, after the interval, the wordiness gives way to a much more emotional involvement from all three characters, the interchanges become much livelier, and the intensity changes from intellectual to pure drama. You never really know which way the plot is going to twist, and then it twists again in its final moments. It’s one of those splendid plays that become even more splendid the more you think about it after curtain down. Hidden depths, character give-aways, secret agendas continue to become clearer as you reflect on what’s happened.

Simon Kenny’s simple but effective design reveals the grey, austere consulting room, its only features being three chairs, a bowl of oranges and a water-cooler. Deliberately harsh lighting emphasises the claustrophobic box nature of the room and adds to the strangely unsettling image presented to us. Composer Valgeir SigurÞsson’s haunting incidental music creeps in softly at odd moments to unsettle us even more.

The three characters are all given tremendous performances by a sterling cast. Ralph Davis gives an excellent portrayal of a rather dishevelled but strict doctor who works all the hours under the sun in his performance as Bruce, quickly getting aggravated when his patience is tried a little too far, not realising the traps that have been set for him. Giles Terera is every bit as excellent as you would expect as the outwardly pleasant, inwardly manipulative Robert, putting his research before his patient’s wellbeing, and switching from old pal to arch enemy on the turn of a sixpence. But for me the discovery of this production is the amazing performance by Michael Balogun, whom we last saw as Macduff in Chichester (at least until the glass floor shattered). Here he plays Christopher, channelling all the emotions of a mental health patient railing against the machine, and conveying all the aspects of this complicated character from the wide-eyed innocent to the courtroom cynic.

A very strong production of a very strong play. It continues at the Royal and Derngate until 4th December- after which, who knows? But I reckon it could fit very nicely into an intimate West End theatre.

Production photos by Marc Brenner

4-starsFour they’re jolly good fellows!