Review – The Importance of Being Earnest, National Theatre Lyttelton, 28th December 2024

Oscar Wilde has always been known for the vivacity of both his writing and his lifestyle. If ever there was an early exponent of today’s you do you message, it’s Wilde. Max Webster’s brilliant vision for this new production of The Importance of Being Earnest is to highlight its celebration of all things gay which has been hiding in plain sight all these years. It’s both fascinating and laudable to see that he achieves this with the minimal amount of liberty-taking with Wilde’s original text.I was expecting something along the lines of Zinnie Harris’ rewriting of The Duchess (of Malfi) as seen recently at the Trafalgar theatre; clever, but merely a serving suggestion of John Webster’s text. Here, there is no need to make changes what Wilde has already written; just a few tiny modern additions bring it forward 130 years (yes it really did first appear in 1895) and it’s as fresh and as funny as it ever was.

In fact, dare I say it, even more so. Algernon Moncrieff (but we can call him Algy) is still living a debauched, carefree existence in town without the means to pay for it and getting out of commitments he doesn’t fancy by pretending his ill friend Bunbury needs his attention. Jack is still his bestie, subsidising Algy’s appetite for the good life, and using their association to get closer to Algy’s cousin Gwendolen with whom he is passionately in love. Except… there’s no doubt here that Algy and Jack’s relationship goes a lot deeper than this, even if Jack isn’t fully aware of it (Algy certainly is). It’s also delightfully balanced by a similar recognition between Gwendolen and Jack’s ward Cecily; their sudden friendship, then enmity, then friendship again is clearly more than mere girl power.

What’s extraordinary in this production is that all this is done with the utmost lightness of touch. There’s no heavy-handedness or labouring any of the points it wishes to make; nothing is forced, it’s all purely natural. And you feel that Webster’s version has truly lifted the lid on this perpetually marvellous play and delved even deeper. It’s like finishing the first tray of a box of chocolates only to discover there’s a whole new selection of goodies in the tray underneath.

I’m unwilling to spoil any of the surprises in the production, although it is bookended by two truly fabulous flights of fancy with a very pink first scene – the official production photos reveal this very unusual opening – and an outrageously over the top curtain call. Even then, it’s stunning how Algy’s Liberace moment melds perfectly into his opening conversation with his manservant Lane. For all its 100% gayness, the production simply works on every level and remains remarkably truthful to the original.

But here’s a few titillating moments to with which to tease you: watch out for Algy’s unsuppressed reaction when he discovers that Cecily is worth £130,000 in the Funds, and the initial letters of the volumes that Jack pulls out of the library when he’s looking for the Army Lists. Laugh too at the list of bills Algy tears up at the end of Act One, and the perfectly chosen extracts of modern songs that occasionally appear throughout the show. Normally I bridle at anachronistic use of music in a play but here it works hilariously well.

Beautifully staged, with a superb set and costume design by Rae Smith (Algy’s first act suit must be worth thousands), the famous handbag is given pride of place on entering the auditorium, only to be gently whisked away and concealed till needed; when it does return, it appears literally as a deus ex machina. And Max Webster has assembled a dream ensemble who exceed all expectations in their perfectly cast roles.

Heading the cast is Sharon D Clarke as Lady Bracknell, a terrifyingly no-nonsense Caribbean matriarch who relishes every sentence and always takes complete control of the situation, even when things take unexpected turns. Whatever preconceptions you may have of how Lady Bracknell should speak or appear, prepare to be amazed at Ms Clarke’s performance.

I’ve only seen Ncuti Gatwa on TV as Doctor Who and didn’t know what to expect from him as a stage performer, but I was literally blown away. He has truly incredible charisma, filling the theatre with joy by his facial expressions, perfect comic timing and extraordinary versatility. I’ve never been so surprised to see an actor do something so unexpectedly delightful, and I can’t wait to follow his stage career in future. He’s perfectly matched by a brilliant comic performance by Hugh Skinner who again I only know from TV’s W1A. He gives a fantastic physicality to his performance, with a totally convincing characterisation, stuffed with endless comedy highlights.

The other superb comic performance comes from Ronkẹ Adékoluẹjo as Gwendolen, gleefully playing up to both Jack and Cecily with barely concealed sexual excitement, a total powerhouse of activity and comic inventiveness. Eliza Scanlen’s Cecily gives a terrific portrayal of a not-quite-spoilt young woman finding her way in the world, Amanda Lawrence gives us a rather wretched Miss Prism clinging on to respectability when she is so publicly shamed, Richard Cant’s Chasuble is a splendidly earnest (there’s that wordagain) chap who holds a very bright candle for Prism indeed, and Julian Bleach’s two butler manservants are so very differently characterised – his lolloping Merriman is a feat of comic genius in itself.

One of those magic theatrical experiences where you simply run out of superlatives. Ernest, Jack and Algy are alive and well and not just living but thriving on the South Bank. The Importance of Being Earnest is playing until 25 January, but many of the remaining performances are sold out – and it hits the cinemas from 20th February. You’ve seen reviews of plays that claim “it’s a revelation” – this time it really is.

Five Alive, Let Theatre Thrive!

Review – Saint George and the Dragon, Olivier Theatre at the National, 2nd December 2017

I saw this marketing poster for Saint George and the Dragon whilst I was idly looking at shows coming up in the next National Theatre season and it really tickled my fancy. The out of place, out of era, aforementioned Saint, glumly tucking into a full English at some greasy spoon. Hardly the stuff of legends, is it? But then as George says in the play, he genuinely is a legend.

There are loads of excellent ideas in Rory Mullarkey’s play which has just ended its run at the Olivier, but, to be honest, I’d be surprised if it turned up anywhere else again in the future. In ancient days, when Chaucerian meter was all the rage, a Knyghte y-clept George found himself wandering through the green pastures of Merrie England (or was that a couple of hundred years later) and chanced upon an old man and his daughter, both verray parfit villagers forsooth. We meet the other villagers: Crier, Miller, Smith, Butcher, Healer, Driver, Brewer…. can you guess what services each provided the community? Of course, that’s where our surnames come from. So I have no idea why Mr Mullarkey has called the old man Charles and his daughter Elsa. Presumably his other kids Dave and Wayne were at some crusade or other.

Elsa is about to be eaten alive by the local ruler, a Dragon (that’s King Dragon to you) so Charles pleads with George to challenge the Dragon to save his daughter’s life. Unfortunately, George hadn’t had much luck with Dragons recently and refused (most ungallantly) Charles’ beseeching to fight the Dragon to save his daughter. But then George looked in Elsa’s eyes and Bingo! It was love at first joust. George fights the Dragon, and, blow me down with a fire-throwing breath, he defeats him. But just as he’s about to enjoy his well deserved courtly nuptuals, he hears the call of the Brotherhood, and he’s off to fight another quest, leaving Elsa to darn her medieval mittens for centuries to come.

I don’t think it matters that I’m telling you the plot, because of the reason I mention in the first sentence of my second paragraph. George comes back in Victorian times, and basically the same thing happens again; then he comes back in today’s era… and basically the same thing happens again. Repetitive? Yes, yes, yes, and yes. There’s the nugget of a very clever play in here. The nation needs a knight in shining armour to come and rescue us from the mess we’ve got ourselves into; a character that represents true England – its nobility, its bravery, its courtliness, its generosity of spirit. Against him, the Dragon, who vows to continue his war against George in more subtle, subconscious ways in the future, affecting the minds of the people, encouraging evil and ignobility; selfishness and weakness. You might say the play sticks two fingers up at Brexiteers; I couldn’t possibly comment. At the end of the play George exhorts the townsfolk to join him returning back to the good old days, but, of course, no one wants to go back in time. This is modern England, a land of smartphones and skyscrapers, of Megabowls and watching England lose at football in the pub. You cannot go back.

Nice idea. Unfortunately, it’s a very wordy, overlong, and lumpy play. It starts with George’s sub-Anglo-Saxon introduction and, I kid you not, Mrs Chrisparkle had nodded off for forty winks and woken up again before he had finished his opening monologue. There are some excellent moments of comedy, created by the incongruous juxtaposition of the ancient with the modern – rather like that marketing photo on the programme. There’s a very enjoyable scene in the second act where George, who has no clue what football is, finds himself getting absolutely plastered watching an International England match in the pub, and it’s genuinely very funny. George blames England’s poor performance on the fact that the supporters have lost sight of the fact that we are world beaters. Just have belief, and we will win the day. Good luck with that, George.

There are some very splendid actors involved in this production who really did put in an awful lot of fine effort. John Heffernan brought great virtue to the role of George, with some lovely comic timing and excellent stage presence. I’d really like to see him in something good. Julian Bleach’s characterisation of the Dragon was very amusing, especially in the first scene as a slimy pantomime villain. Brilliant actors with CV’s as long as your arm, like Gawn Grainger and Jeff Rawle, breathe as much life into the play as possible. And there are some excellent special effects – I loved how the Dragon set fire to his servant Henry’s scroll of Terms and Conditions; although the setting up for the descent of the fiery Dragon’s heads onto the stage, using two wires that slowly came into view, was cumbersome and made the whole thing look very ham-fisted.

At 2 hours 50 minutes it has some very long longueurs. My solution – omit a lot of the opening exposition and completely cut out the whole Victorian era episode. It adds nothing to the story and Mr. Mullarkey would still make his patriotic point only far more succinctly. You could probably bring it in at about 2 hours then and it wouldn’t feel anything like as hard going. Overall, it wasn’t too bad; but it wasn’t good either. Faint praise indeed. Can’t win them all!