Review – Richard II, Bridge Theatre, London, 20th February 2025

Posted on February 21, 2025 by therealchrisparkle

After its record-breaking run of Guys and Dolls, the Bridge Theatre had to come up with something special to fill the formidable boots of Nathan Detroit and Miss Adelaide. And they have, with Jonathan Bailey, whose star is definitely in the ascendant, starring in Richard II, Shakespeare’s exciting look at the last year of the king’s life before he was usurped by his cousin Bullingbrook, later to become Henry IV.

Written around 1595, the play is known to have offended Queen Elizabeth I, who saw the characterisation of Richard II as a veiled attack on her good queenly self, and in fact she ordered the scene where Richard is deposed to be removed from the printed text; a scene that remained effectively censored for the next two hundred years. Nothing changes, of course; there are plenty of modern parallels to be drawn from the play, proving once again that Shakespeare is always relevant to the modern era. When Richard insists on shamelessly seizing all John of Gaunt’s assets, I couldn’t help but think of Donald Trump’s plans for Ukraine’s natural resources.

Designing the set, Bob Crowley has gone for a clean, bare stage, challenging us to work our imaginations to provide the intricacies of each location. Modern props, such as microphones, pint glasses, hospital beds and walking aids, etc, confirm the production is set in the present day; frosted glass doors at the back of the set make you think that any minute, Lord Sugar’s going to emerge and give you a grilling. Scene changes are made swiftly and effectively through use of traps in the floor; visually, it’s all very slick. Grant Olding’s incidental music is terrific; all too often unnecessary music can really aggravate and detract from a production, but here, the quiet, moody, unsettling themes really build up the tension, and Olding’s stately regal court themes are a delight.

The production makes excellent use of the entire auditorium, with actors often performing from the aisles, audience seats, and even from Gallery 1. The configuration of the stage in relation to the seats does mean that there are occasional blocking issues. To get a good view of everything going on from our positions in Row C of the Stalls you had to do quite a lot of bobbing your head around other cast members to see the action.

Apart from its modern setting, Nicholas Hytner’s production doesn’t approach the play from any unusual or unexpected angle, it just aims to let the text tell the story for itself, bringing out the characterisations of the main roles. Unlike some Shakespeare plays, Richard II isn’t especially overcomplicated; you’re witnessing an arrogant tyrant cling on to power until the power switches to his usurper, and then you see his importance just wither on the vine. It’s fascinating how loathsome Richard is portrayed in the first part of the play; but once he’s ceded his power to his cousin, you feel strangely sorry for him.

At the heart of the play is the tug-of-war for power, beautifully and simply conveyed in the scene where Richard is required to give up his crown to Bullingbrook; both men grabbing hold of it as if it were some kind of exercise ring, and refusing to let go, in an extremely telling test of will. There are some other notable flashes of directorial brilliance, such as the separate appearances of the Duke and Duchess of York at the locked door, and then their kneeling alongside Aumerle in supplication to Bullingbrook, whilst he wanders around, injecting a spot of comedy into an otherwise bleak sequence. In the famous mirror scene, instead of dashing it to the ground, Richard gives it a head-butt of unhinged fury. Little moments of inventiveness like this keep the whole production lively and unpredictable.

The production is very well cast, although some doubling up of roles can be a little confusing, especially if – like me – you’re not that familiar with the text. Additionally, one of the actors delivers their lines in a rather mumbling fashion which makes them often difficult to understand them fully. But, for the most part, there are many excellent performances to enjoy. Michael Simkins is superb throughout as the Duke of York, long suffering, allegiance-switching; it’s a very thoughtful and intelligent performance. Understudying John of Gaunt, Martin Carroll is also excellent, delivering the famous “royal throne of kings” speech with a heavy heart and the regrets of old age.

Vinnie Heaven is superb as Aumerle, giving a typically charismatic performance as the doggedly faithful Duke, Christopher Osikanlu Colquhoun impresses as the ruthless Northumberland, and there’s excellent support from Amanda Root as the Duchess of York and Olivia Popica as Richard’s sorrowful Queen Isobel. Royce Pierreson is outstanding as Bullingbrook, exuding nobility right from the start, maturing into the clinically firm but fair Henry IV. He has incredible stage presence and provides the perfect opponent for Jonathan Bailey’s Richard II.

However, it is Mr Bailey who is the star attraction in this production and he gives every inch the star performance. Totally believable as the despotic Richard, with his swiftly changing moods, he switches from imperial grandeur to whiny sarcasm within the same sentence. It’s a physically demanding performance and he captures both extremes of the king’s character perfectly – the statesman and the wimp. His vocal delivery is perfect too, always with crystal clear elocution and a stage authority that makes you feel you’re in the presence of someone special.

Selling out at the Bridge Theatre until 10^th May – if you haven’t bought your tickets yet, you’d better get your skates on!

Production photos by Manuel Harlan

Four They’re Jolly Good Fellows!

Review – John Gabriel Borkman, Bridge Theatre, London, 2nd November 2022

Posted on November 4, 2022 by therealchrisparkle

I’ve always been a sucker for a bit of Ibsen. Ever since we read Ghosts at school, I’ve always admired the grim grit of miserable 19^th century Norwegian life that only Ibsen really seems to get. John Gabriel Borkman is one of his later plays, and was new to me, so I was curious to see if he’d cheered up at all in later life. Not a bit of it – I’m pleased to say. You don’t watch Ibsen for the lolz.

Nicholas Hytner brings us a brand new JGB, with a fresh translation by Charlotte Barslund then moulded into a new version by Lucinda Coxon. Comparing it with the original, there isn’t really a lot that’s changed. The role of Mrs Borkman’s maid has been dropped, which gives it a more contemporary feel; she has been replaced by Gunhild’s use of a mobile phone, poor thing, which I presume is the main reason why this new version is presented in the here and now, rather than 1896. Otherwise, I can’t see how presenting the play in a modern setting gives any other insights – more on some staging details later.

There’s no doubt that it’s a fascinating story with two central, timeless, themes. First – the humiliation of the fallen hero. The John Gabriel Borkman of the title was once a “great” man; a banker, respected, wealthy, influential – but a fraud, who swindled people left right and centre, including his own friends. Unsurprisingly, he was sent to prison for five years, to return home to the hostile and unforgiving arms of his wife, Gunhild. As a result, he has spent the last three years pacing around the upstairs room of their house, doing hardly anything, seeing hardly anyone. An unmitigated failure.

This deadlock is broken by the arrival of Gunhild’s sister, Ella, who owns the property as all Borkman’s assets were seized. Gunhild and Ella haven’t seen each other in eight years; Gunhild’s animosity towards her sister is palpable. It emerges that young Erhart Borkman has been seeing an older woman in the town, Fanny Wilton; this introduces the second timeless theme – the desire of the older generation to control the lives of the younger generation. Gunhild is an overprotective mother and Ella a besotted aunt; and when JGB decides he also wants to take Erhart away and start a new life together, there’s only one possible outcome for all this delusion.

Anna Fleischle has designed a very classy set. Cool greys and blues straight out of the Dulux colour chart suggest an atmospheric Oslo winter but also create poverty out of what was once obviously opulence. Very nicely done indeed. James Farncombe’s inventive lighting enhances the set design and brings additional drama to the theatrical highlights. In the loft sits a grand piano, on which young Frida Foldal plays Saint-Saëns’ Danse Macabre, the only remnant of artistry left in the building.

But there are a couple of odd staging choices. The sound effect representing JGB pacing upstairs at the beginning of the play doesn’t sound like footsteps at all – they are more like a muffled drum beat. The programme tells us the setting is “outside Oslo”, so why does Gunhild drink Barr’s cola? Nothing against Barr’s cola, of course, but one would have thought that the factories of Forfar are a long way from Oslo. Does she swap to Irn-Bru at the weekends? And we’re clearly in the 21^st century, with mobile phones, a flat-screen tv and so on – so why is Ella dressed as an 1890s drudge?

There’s also an accidentally amusing moment when Fanny announces that Frida is joining Erhart and herself on the journey to Rome, saying “Frida’s waiting in the car”; when she’s clearly still upstairs putting away her sheet music. Perhaps the production is peppered with these deliberately disconcerting aspects as a kind of Brechtian Verfremdungseffekt; or maybe, as I suspect, I can’t help but think that a few things weren’t properly thought through. Another of my pet hates – Ibsen has left us a beautifully structured four act play but there’s still no interval – 1 hour 45 minutes all the way through. When you get to my age you really do value a break in between!

There’s no doubt that you witness an acting masterclass. Simon Russell Beale is superb as the disgraced Borkman. A complex, riveting performance, you can see the charisma in the character, his ability to fool both himself and others, his loss of focus and his absolute selfishness. Sir Simon uses every note of his terrific voice to try to galvanise others, to convince himself, and to show his total sense of failure. He’s brilliant. Clare Higgins is also superb as the strident Gunhild; a loud, complaining, stifling characterisation that works perfectly. Lia Williams is terrific as the quieter, more reasoning Ella, resolute against her ill-health and hoping against hope that Erhart might take pity on her – but also completely accepting and understanding the reality of his situation.

There’s excellent support from the rest of the cast, including the always entertaining Michael Simkins as JGB’s friend Vilhelm Foldal, putting up with being treated like dirt by everyone who knows him, but always with a little optimism held back for the future. Ony Uhiara’s Fanny Wilton is a woman who knows what she wants and is out to get it; I liked how her voice and costume set her apart from the traditional respectability of the other characters.

Enjoyable, and very well acted, but with some odd production decisions. Great to see that Ibsen isn’t going away any time soon!

Four They’re Jolly Good Fellows!

Review – The Unfriend, Minerva Theatre, Chichester, 4th June 2022

Posted on June 6, 2022 by therealchrisparkle

We’ve all been there. You get chatting to someone on holiday, and you get on fine. Maybe go for a drink with them or a meal. You think, what a nice person. Then someone says, we must keep in touch once we get home. And then sometimes you do, and sometimes you don’t. More often you don’t. This salutary tale will make sure you never consider this reckless activity in the future!

Whilst on a cruise holiday, Elsa from Denver, Colorado, gets talking to Peter and Debbie from suburban England. She clings to them like a limpet, and they’re too polite to discourage her. Elsa demands that they visit her in Denver when they’re next there (which would be never, obvs.) However, she corners Debbie to surrender her email address, which she triumphantly and ominously waves in the air after Debbie’s left. Would Elsa come all the way to spend a week or more in England? You betcha.

What could have been a gently amusing comedy of manners highlighting the behavioural differences between the brash, dominating American and the overpolite reserve of the English, has been transformed into a riotous comedy by a plot masterstroke. On a whim, Debbie checks Google, only to discover that Elsa is a mass-murderer. What on earth can they do now?! Peter and Debbie do everything they can to deter her, but Elsa’s more than up to the task. Are they and their family at risk of being wiped out? If not, who else will Elsa eliminate? You’ll have to see the play to find out.

Steven Moffat’s The Unfriend is two hours of unalloyed comedy bliss. There’s the successful, busy couple who self-medicate on wine to get through the day; two obnoxious, petulant teenagers who hate their parents almost as much as they hate each other; a dull-as-ditchwater neighbour who’s so boring that whenever he speaks you stop listening; and a well-meaning local bobby who treats their house as though it’s his own. Into this mix comes the bold as brass, unpredictable Elsa Jean Krakowski who – on top of everything else – has amazing insight and the ability to convince anyone of anything. A potentially lethal insight into what people are really like, in fact.

It is without doubt one of the funniest plays of the 21^st century and sits perfectly among the best of Ayckbourn, Frayn or Nichols as a work that not only gives you a belly-laugh a minute, but also reveals the ridiculousness of English middle-class angst and the hoops that people will jump through in order not to offend, even to their own detriment. It also shows the unexpectedly positive power that a visitor can have by shaking up the comfortable rut into which a family can otherwise stagnate.

The structure and plotting is of the first order, and the dialogue is crisp and hilarious. There are so many ecstatically brilliant moments that turn on the inspired use of just one word. Go to see this show and you’ll be laughing at the use of “vaccinated” and “particles” for days. Mark Gatiss’ direction is razor-sharp; every one of the characters’ gestures and movements has meaning and is never wasted. Next time you want someone to sit down because you’re going to give them a good talking-to, you’ll find that you’re giving them a grand, slow arm gesture in the direction of the chair. It’s a gesture that takes on a life of its own in this show.

All the performances are staggeringly good. Frances Barber is wonderful as Elsa, always maintaining a slight air of mystery, her eyes and voice occasionally revealing the dangerous threat that lurks just a little beneath the surface. Delightfully dominating but never a grotesque caricature, it’s a fantastic comic performance. Amanda Abbington is great as Debbie, mouthing anxious messages to her husband, collapsing on the sofa without spilling a drop of wine, trying to keep order in the house when the odds are so against her.

There’s a fantastic double act from Gabriel Howell as son Alex and Maddie Holliday as daughter Rosie, whining and grumping their way around the stage as the Kids from Hell, until Elsa’s influence turns them into hilariously unbelievable sweetness and light. Michael Simkins is brilliant as the tedious nameless neighbour who is too easy to ignore, moaning about a property boundary issue. And there’s a fantastically funny performance by Marcus Onilude as PC Junkin who accidentally becomes the target of one of the funniest misunderstandings I’ve ever seen in a comedy.

Which brings me to Reece Shearsmith as Peter, in an outstanding comedy performance with remarkable timing and gloriously understated physical comedy. The sequence where he’s outside the toilet door makes your toes curl with embarrassment and your stomach cringe with agony but it’s the funniest scene I’ve seen in years. I wish I could give you more details but I don’t want to spoil any of the surprises!

The run at the Minerva Theatre is virtually sold out now, but there’s no way this production isn’t going straight into the West End; and with its many nuances, so many brilliant lines, deft deliveries and glorious gestures, it demands to be seen again. Up there with Noises Off and One Man Two Guvnors for longevity potential. As you might be able to guess – we loved it!

Five Alive let Theatre Thrive!