Tag Archives: Grace Molony

Review – The Enfield Haunting, Ambassadors Theatre, London, 28th December 2023

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Sometimes, gentle reader, a theatre review will virtually write itself. You sit down at the computer and start tapping away and all your thoughts and insights come spilling out and within ten minutes you’ve filled the equivalent of a sheet of foolscap (yes, I am that old.) And on other occasions, you stare blankly at the screen, then blankly at the programme, then blankly at the hurried notes you made as you walked out of the theatre and think to yourself, Jeez where the hell do I start?! And writing about The Enfield Haunting is such an occasion.

No one, apart from Zero Mostel and Gene Wilder in The Producers, sets about creating a lousy show. In The Enfield Haunting, the component parts are all there. An extraordinary supernatural thriller, based on the real life events of a house in Enfield in the late 1970s where there were reports of unexplained poltergeist activity. Reliable witnesses reported seeing furniture being chucked around, levitations, grisly voices, thrown toys, knocking on walls; all the elements you’d look for in a decent scary paranormal show. There’s a cast led by two stars, Catherine Tate and David Threlfall, both great for Box Office. The creative team boasts experienced set and costume designer and directors, and award-winning lighting and sound designers. When I first heard that this production was going to hit the West End, I was at the front of the queue flourishing my credit card.

But then came the word of mouth from its opening try-outs in Brighton and Richmond in November; almost universal in its criticism of unmitigated boredom, confusion, pointlessness and terrible performances. Surely some mistake? Its original press performance, scheduled for 6th December, was put back to 10th January. Its running time has been cut from an original 1 hour 50 minutes, then to 1 hour 40 minutes; the programme states it will last 90 minutes, but the production we saw lasted 75 minutes. There’s clearly been a lot of slicing out of material – in fact, there are some characters listed under Cast in the programme who do not appear in the play, unless I nodded off during their spot. Nevertheless, I have no doubt that it is improved for being shortened; I’d much rather spend 75 minutes getting nowhere than 110.

This was the second time we’d seen a play in 2023 that showed much promise in the adverts but really wasn’t ready for public viewing by the time people were resting their bums on seats – yes, I’m looking at you, The Inquiry. But it is amazing how a talented and hard-working creative team can come together and create something that’s so lifeless, dull and incredibly confusing. Writer Paul Unwin has come up with a kind of Waiting for Poltergeist, but unlike Godot, the poltergeist does turn up every so often. Trouble is no one sees him except us, so we’re left with an unfunny version of the bench sketch in a panto where we shout Behind You! whenever the ghosts appear.

I couldn’t decide whether the writing was deliberately or accidentally confusing; suffice to say, we never really get to the bottom of whether spirit hunter Maurice Grosse is only there because he likes little girls – I can’t imagine what his remaining family and friends must think about the insinuations in the play. There’s also confusion about whether eleven-year-old Janet Hodgson, through whom the poltergeist makes his presence felt, is somehow linked to or a replacement for Grosse’s daughter (also Janet) who (genuinely) died in a motorcycle accident. What’s all that about?

However, it’s not all bad. There are a few nice moments of tension, and a few scenes lighten the mood with occasional humour. The set looks good, and the acting is all perfectly fine (well, nearly all). The role of middle-aged single mum Peggy Hodgson is something Catherine Tate could probably do in her sleep; it doesn’t stretch her in any way, but then again, it doesn’t need to. David Threlfall gives a more interesting performance as Grosse, a balance of kindly curiosity and otherworldly creepiness. Ella Schrey-Yeats is pretty scary as Janet, and Grace Molony is amusing as her challenging teenager sister Margaret, although both actors appear to be way too old to convincingly portray an eleven- and a thirteen-year-old.

My main takeaway from the show was that it simply felt like a great opportunity wasted. It should have been so much scarier, so much either funnier or more savage (depending in which direction you want to take it) and the end should be much more conclusive. It is, clearly, however, hugely better than when it first went on the road; and the moral, should you wish to look for one, is don’t keep the previous dead tenant’s armchair when you move in. Take it to the skip and you can avoid a lot of unpleasantness.

Two Disappointing For More!

Review – The Watsons, Menier Chocolate Factory, 27th October 2019

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One of the big hits of last year – but which left me cold – was Laura Wade’s Home I’m Darling, a clever construct that merged the 1950s with the present day, but which for me lacked substance, characterisation and conviction. I’m perfectly prepared to accept that I’m out of kilter on that one. I’d already seen another of Ms Wade’s plays, Posh, as performed by the University of Northampton Acting Students and a jolly good fist they made of it. Having enjoyed that, I thought I’d give Ms Wade another chance with The Watsons, a co-production between the Menier and Chichester Festival Theatre, both of whom I pretty much trust to come up with good productions and performances. And whilst you can see certain elements linking both plays – messing around with time, fooling the audience into thinking one scenario is happening when in fact another is secretly operating over and above it – I’m delighted to say that Home I’m Darling isn’t a patch on The Watsons, which is currently convincing me is one of the best new plays written in the 21st century.

If you want to miss any spoilers, skip this paragraph, although if you’re interested in seeing the play, you may well already know its trick up its sleeve. The Watsons is an unfinished book of Jane Austen’s; she started writing it in 1803 and shelved it after a few chapters. We don’t know why she stopped writing it; and the play is Laura Wade’s method of exploring this mystery and imagining what story might have evolved from the bare bones that survived. Emma, the youngest of the Watson girls, returns to the family fold much to the interest of local society, and the curiosity of her brother and sisters. Will she be courted by young Lord Osborne, whose family own the posh house? Or might she fall for the dignified poverty of Mr Howard the clergyman? Or, heavens forfend, will she choose the dashing cad Tom Musgrave? Just as she’s about to consider favourably an offer of marriage, Laura, ostensibly a maid but actually the author, crashes into the story and stops Emma from underselling herself. Once Laura has crossed the divide between Jane Austen’s characters and real life, her adaptation task is made so much harder, as the characters themselves demand a say in what happens… and the result is, literally, anarchy.

Yes, it’s a play about the creative process – something I always find extremely rewarding – bringing the creator herself up close and personal in conflict with her characters and plotline. The play gives Ms Wade a chance to explore the differences between reality and fiction; there’s delight when the characters realise they will never die, for example, but a shock when they discover they will never progress; much to the horror of ten-year-old Charles Howard, who realises he will always be a boy and never get to discover what’s hidden inside ladies’ underwear. There’s also a lot of fun to be had by bringing both the modern world and the theatre world into the characters’ lives, and each funny little idea that Ms Wade writes into the text is only ever used once, which keeps the play constantly inventive and evolving.

Despite the idea of a writer confronting his characters not being 100% original – Laura herself mentions Pirandello when chatting to David the producer on her mobile – the construction of this play is so fresh and so tight, and so beautifully carried out by a cast who do not put a foot wrong, even by the most minor of the 19 roles that pack out the tiny Menier stage, that the production is a complete joy. Ben Stones’ design helps to accentuate the differences between Austen’s era and today, with simple touches like the minimalist plastic red chair that Laura sits on to workshop the story with the cast who are all seated opposite her in regency white. I had to chuckle when I saw that her coffee cup bears the symbol of the Sheffield Crucible’s Centre Stage Loyalty club.

Even when their characters are developing way beyond what Jane Austen might have expected of them, each of the nineteenth century cast plays it absolutely straight, which intensifies the hilarity all the more. Only Louise Ford, as Laura, is allowed the space to reflect and speak in the modern manner, much to the amazement of her Georgian counterparts. It’s a beautiful performance, laden with responsibility towards Austen, the characters, the audience, everyone; delivered with embarrassed uncertainty and occasional goofiness. She is matched by Grace Molony’s Emma, at first miffed that her chance of a fine marriage has been thwarted, who grows into a delightful 200-year-old rebel, with a perfect blend of the demure and the cunning.

Paksie Vernon is excellent as the put-upon Elizabeth, Jane Booker tremendously haughty as Lady Osborne, Joe Bannister hilariously tongue-tied as her uppercrust son, Laurence Ubong Williams marvellously roguish as cad Tom, Sophie Duval delightfully pompous as Mrs Robert, Sally Bankes brilliant as the surprisingly political Nanny, and with the rest of the cast all turning in superb supporting performances. At our show, young Charles was played by Isaac Forward and he was effortlessly fantastic.

The run of The Watsons at the Menier continues until 16th November – but it’s completely sold out. I’m not surprised. Surely a West End transfer must follow; this is far too good a play and production to end here. I don’t do star ratings – but this gets a 5*!

Review – The Country Girls, Minerva Theatre, Chichester, 24th June 2017

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Edna O’Brien is one of those very famous authors whom absolutely no one I know has ever read. “What play are we seeing for the matinee in Chichester?” asked Mrs Chrisparkle showing surprising interest a couple of hours before curtain-up. “The Country Girls”, I replied, “it’s an adaptation of that book by Edna O’Thingy…” She looked blankly at me, but I don’t think she would have been any the wiser if I’d remembered her surname. “It’s a very famous book” I added, although by then Mrs C was back on the Guardian website.

You are, of course, much better informed, gentle reader, and will be aware that The Country Girls was Edna O’Brien’s debut novel back in 1960 and she’s written around 40 books in all, including short stories, poetry, non-fiction as well as her best-selling novels. The book was banned by the Irish censor upon publication, so it must be doing something right. Set in the West of Ireland in the 1950s, the first act introduces us to Kate and Baba, two girls subjected to the full convent regime of education and repression; we see Kate’s friendship with the young Sister Mary; and the girls’ shameful expulsion when some sexual teasing goes wrong. The second act sees the girls in Dublin, freed from their shackles and finding their own way; meeting unsuitable men and struggling to pay the rent. Whilst the story really builds beautifully in the first act, and you really get to understand the main characters and their motivations very well; for me the play rather fizzled out in the second act, as whatever relationships they had came to nought.

Nevertheless, it’s still a very entertaining play, which gives you a very good insight into what life was like in Ireland in the 1950s, and how very different the country and the city life were. Fathers were either kind and helpful or drunk and violent; nuns were either warm-hearted or sadists. Similarly, girls were either like Kate – ambitious and innocent, or like Baba – reckless and sinful; and both were equally entertaining for the audience to watch. Little moments, like when Baba buys an ice-cream when they first arrive in Dublin, speak volumes and paint a much bigger picture than the words of the play alone can do. Isobel Waller-Bridge has composed some very elegant but inevitably sombre music which recurs throughout the piece and for me had the effect of bringing the mood down, as if preparing us in advance for some great tragedy. Call me shallow, but I’d have killed for a little fiddle and a tin whistle.

The play is dominated, wonderfully, by the brilliant performance of Grace Molony as Kate. From the very first scene she captures your heart and you spend the next two and a half hours willing her to succeed and survive at everything life throws at her. Both as a gullible girl and an out-of-place young woman, Ms Molony expresses so much about Kate’s character without even having to say a word. Her conversations with Mary are charming – a delightful performance from Jade Yourell; and as she opens up to Rachel Atkins’ superbly Germanic Joanna you see her becoming an independent woman, holding her own opinions whilst still being kind and thoughtful. It’s a beautiful performance.

Genevieve Hulme-Beaman’s Baba is an amusingly irreverent character; the archetypal naughtiest girl in the school, always chirpy with an answer for everything. She longs to lead Kate astray in Dublin, but when she finds she cramps her style, it’s easy for this Baba simply to dump her. Again, it was a very realistic presentation of a spirited young woman, desperate to make her way without any restrictions, and it was a joy to watch her; even though we thought her re-appearance at the end of the play was rather improbable. The remainder of the cast give a great ensemble performance to suggest the stifling backwardness of the countryside and the diversity of Dublin.

I’d have liked the story to have a bit more oomph in the second half, but that’s not to say it wasn’t a very enjoyable, intelligent and rewarding piece of drama that leaves you much better informed about Ireland in the 50s. It’s on until 8th July.