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

The CrucibleYou 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, ProctorI 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. Abigail and HaleIn 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.

The interrogatorsThat’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!

Proctor and Mary WarrenAnd 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.

Ensemble of young womenAll 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.

Giles CoreyPerhaps 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!

Production photos by Johan PerssonFive Alive, let Theatre Thrive!

Review – Proof, Menier Chocolate Factory, 7th April 2013

Proof“What is it with this new trend of having to shout in order to prove you’re angry?” asked Mrs Chrisparkle slightly tetchily over our interval Pinot Grigio during last Sunday’s performance of Proof. “The young woman in this play shouts in just the same way the young woman in A Taste of Honey did. Makes my head hurt!” “Funny you should say that”, I responded, “as A Taste of Honey was directed by the same person, Polly Findlay”. Her eyes widened as if she had just stumbled over the most fabulous Eureka moment. “Well”, she concluded, “she needs to find another way to help actresses express anger”.

I have to agree. From the opening scene, where Catherine, played by Mariah Gale, is conversing with her father Robert, played by Matthew Marsh, it was instantaneously noticeable how many more decibels were emanating from Miss Gale’s diaphragm than from any of her fellow actors. I immediately got a sense of imbalance, and, although I got used to it after a while (quite a long while) I could never stop thinking that her performance was a bit shouty.

Mariah GaleBut really, I should start with the play. David Auburn’s Proof won the 2001 Tony Award for Best Play and that year’s Pulitzer Prize for Drama. It’s a tight, compact little play, with some clever twists and nice garden paths to lead you up. It tackles some interesting subjects – the inability to continue working when you’re suffering mental illness, the fine line between genius and madness, the inheritability of mental illness, sibling rivalry, and the question of how do you prove that you had a genius idea first or that someone else stole it. Helen Goddard’s set is a feast for the eyes and really accurately suggests a rather decrepit back patio. I also liked how the play manipulates time, with present, past and imaginary all having their place.

Matthew MarshBut I have two major problems with the play. It’s very slow to start – and, apart from the clever twist in the first scene, the first half hour or so is actually quite boring. There doesn’t seem to be much in the way of dramatic intensity between the characters and simply increasing the shoutiness levels is no replacement. It doesn’t get going until the argument between the two sisters, which reveals much more of their characters’ natures. The character of Hal, played by Jamie Parker (who you can always rely to put on a fine performance), is very thinly drawn and you get precious little understanding of his character or motivations from the text.

Emma CunniffeMy other problem is the ending. The whole basis of the play concerns the authorship of a brilliant piece of mathematical proof, apparently discovered by the ailing Robert during a burst of lucidity whilst suffering from mental illness. But did he really discover it, or was it actually the work of his – maybe – equally brilliant daughter? And how can you prove who came up with the proof? How much more intriguing it would have been if the ending had been enigmatic – suggesting one resolution, whilst giving evidence in the other direction, so that you kept on guessing during the train ride home. But no – Mr Auburn makes it very clear in the final scene exactly who it was that came up with the proof and frankly I was disappointed.

Jamie ParkerMariah Gale’s Catherine has a very convincing abrasiveness when dealing with characters or subjects she doesn’t like and her mood swings are very well portrayed, shoutiness aside. However, we both felt much more in tune with Emma Cunniffe’s performance as the bossy sister Claire, determined to get her own way despite a pretext of caring about her sister’s well-being. She gave a great performance of controlled exasperation and bullying. Jamie Parker breathed as much life into the role of Hal as possible and was immensely watchable as usual. Matthew Marsh, who we enjoyed in The Last of the Haussmans, brought depth and understanding to the difficult role of Robert.

Not a bad production by any means, but sadly we both came away from this with feelings of general dissatisfaction.

P.S. Please, Menier, could you put the heating on? That auditorium was freezing! Mrs C kept her Danish High-Tog jacket on throughout the whole show and the man next to her was huddled in overcoat and scarf! When he nodded off we weren’t sure if it was boredom or hypothermia.

Review – The Last of the Haussmans, Lyttelton Theatre, Royal National Theatre, London, 7th July 2012

The Last of the HaussmansThere aren’t many clues in the programme or in the rather forgettable title of this play to give you an idea about what it’s all about – in fact I found myself referring to it in advance as simply “the Julie Walters play”, so if you too feel a bit of a blur as to its contents, I’m pleased to inform you, it’s a very engaging tale about an ageing “free-thinking” mother of the hippy generation, her two rather wayward children, the people who love them, the people who abuse their relationships with them, and how one’s passion for one’s cause can both help and hinder the world about you.

Julie Walters This is Stephen Beresford’s first play and he is admirably skilful at creating characters and writing funny but telling scenes. Despite financial strictures Judy hangs on to her ramshackled house to the obvious disapproval of wealthy neighbours. It’s a terrific, detailed set cleverly suggestive of one of those extraordinarily expensive Dorset Sandbanks properties – though the local references are all Plymouth-based – all art deco, garden and outhouses; but shabbily and carelessly furnished and maintained, with plenty of Indian Bhagwan ephemera, hippy bunting and a bottomless supply of alcohol. Judy’s obviously been a trying, difficult, brave, offensive and wonderful person all her life. Inspirational and exasperating in equal measure she steadfastly refuses to dumb down her vision for the sake of practicality. Her children Libby and Nick bear the scars of wayward upbringing and she still dominates their existence, even though they are now well entrenched in adulthood themselves. As the family work out their frustrations with each other over the last months of Judy’s life, Nick comes to the conclusion that they all have to accept they are individually responsible for their own “f***-ups” (his words), and this seems to me to be the main message of this very black and very funny comedy. The excellent set is matched with a well chosen soundtrack – in fact I loved the use of music in this production. Tracks from Judy’s finest hours, you imagine, work with empathy and irony to the on-stage action, and it was great to hear Peter Green’s plaintive guitar chords of “Oh Well” again. I’d forgotten how comfortably you are seated and what good sight lines you get in the Lyttelton stalls, and this production fills the imposing stage admirably.

Rory KinnearThe Lyttelton was packed; primarily I sensed, to see Julie Walters in action – and why wouldn’t you, she’s still a complete star turn. I last saw her on stage apparently performing oral sex on Richard Beckinsale in a hospital bed in Funny Peculiar at the Garrick in 1976, and she’s done awfully well since. Her Judy is a highly intelligent, fearless, erratic and slightly posh version of her creation Bo Beaumont, allegedly the actress who plays Mrs Overall. Julie Walters’ comic timing is immaculate but the role calls for much more than just comedy. She makes you believe Judy’s self-delusions. You share her loathing of the fascists. You are horrified at her deterioration of health and reliance on morphine. You are full of joy at her love for life. It’s perfect casting for this extraordinary character.

Helen McCrory I also very much enjoyed Rory Kinnear’s performance as her son Nick; near destroyed through drug and drink addiction, you can tell he’s been a coward and a reprobate but his characterisation is so real that you warm to him instantly. His hapless attempts at chatting up young Daniel, whom the family allow to practice swimming in their pool, are very funny and his comic business with the can of lager was predictable but very believable. He too has impeccable comic timing, as you might expect from his parentage; and like Ms Walters, his performance reveals both the comedy and the horror of the character’s life and experiences.

Taron EgertonAs Judy’s clearly less-favoured daughter Libby, Helen McCrory makes sure all grounds are covered in her performance from her strict unsentimental dealings with her daughter Summer, her vacillating fondness for the three-timing Dr Peter, and her gooey appreciation of Daniel’s attention, to her every-emotion-under-the-sun relationship with Judy. She’s very convincing, and delivers her hard stark lines with great comic attack. It’s a cleverly written role, as the character develops from the person you think probably has the best grasp on reality to the person who arguably loses grip – and the things she loves – the most. It’s a very effective and hard-hitting performance.

Matthew Marsh In the smaller roles I thought Taron Egerton, in his first professional stage engagement, shows good promise as the awkward loner Daniel who blooms under Judy’s watch and carves out a positive life for himself. His testament, that it was because of Judy’s encouragement and support that he can now meet life’s challenges, was really movingly written and honestly played. Matthew Marsh as Peter looked the part and was suitably creepy and sneaky with his amorous attentions to both Judy and Libby, and his turning away from the family’s needs at the end of the play was unpleasantly disturbing. Isabella Laughland as Libby’s wounded and wounding daughter Summer breathed strong life into the Catherine Tate-style “difficult child” character, and I didn’t foresee the twist as to how Summer would develop, but it was very nicely played. She has a tendency to talk over the laughs of the previous line, though, which is annoying, as I missed the beginning of quite a few of her important speeches. She just needs the confidence to slow the pace down and simply wait.

Isabella Laughland There were one or two aspects of the story that didn’t quite hang true for me; receiving the cremated ashes in an urn on the same day as a funeral is extraordinarily quick work; and why would you arrange for a funeral to take place on the same day you have to move house, that seems to create pointlessly additional stress. Nevertheless it’s still a rattling good story with some fine performances, good characterisation and plenty to watch and admire on stage. Running in repertory until October and definitely worth catching.