Theatre
Freddie Fox interview
Scout London, January 2013
http://www.scoutlondon.com/2013/01/23/freddie-fox-the-west-ends-hottest-new-star/
Choose Your Own Documentary feature
Scout London, November 2012
http://www.scoutlondon.com/2012/11/05/a-documentary-where-you-choose-the-ending/
Marcus Brigstocke and Jon Culshaw interview (Spamalot)
Scout London, July 2012
http://www.scoutlondon.com/2012/07/25/marcus-brigstocke-and-jon-culshaw-on-spamalot/
You Me Bum Bum Train review
Scout London, July 2012
http://www.scoutlondon.com/2012/07/26/you-me-bum-bum-train-review/
Travelling Light review
National Theatre
***
Nicholas Wright's tribute to the influence of Eastern European Jews in early cinema is warm and amusing - but not to the extent it should be
Damien Molony, Antony Sher and Abigail McKern in Travelling Light at the National Theatre, by Johan Persson
IMAGINE if some of cinema's most enduring conventions were unwittingly invented by Jewish villagers in a remote Eastern European shtetl.
That's the premise behind Nicholas Wright's charming if somewhat slow new play, Travelling Light, which opened at the National Theatre on Wednesday.
The predominance of Jewish immigrants and the stories of their homelands in early Hollywood is well known. But Wright has created a story in which many of the most fundamental elements of modern filmmaking - including splicing the negatives, dramatic montage and the very concept of the cinema itself - were in fact pioneered by simple folk in an Eastern Europe village, who essentially form one of the world's first ever film studios.
At the centre of all this is Motl Mendl (Damien Molony), an arrogant but passionate young man desperate to make best use of his inherited cinematograph, and Jacob Bindel (Antony Sher), a successful local timber merchant who agrees to bankroll Motl's films on the condition he stay in the shtetl and make them about local people.
The two quickly slip into the familiar director/producer roles - resentfully codependent, each battling for control - while Motl and his collaborator/muse/girlfriend Anna (Lauren O'Neil) start pioneering new filmmaking techniques. Before long, the documentary approach gives way to story-telling, ticketed screenings and a microcosm of the whole film industry flourishing in one village many thousands of miles from Hollywood.
It's a touching story to say the least, but Nicholas Hytner's production struggles to make it as funny, compelling or heartwarming as it sounds on paper. It's too long for one thing (around two hours, 45 minutes) taking almost an hour to get going. And the allusions to Hollywood cinema are at times a little clunky.
What really saves the production are a small number of delightful scenes that really capture both the wonderment and magic of early moving pictures, and some strong central performances - namely that of the superb Antony Sher.
It might not be the best one, but Travelling Light is still an affecting tribute to the birth of film as both an art form and a business.
Until March 6. Visit www.nationaltheatre.org.uk.
That's the premise behind Nicholas Wright's charming if somewhat slow new play, Travelling Light, which opened at the National Theatre on Wednesday.
The predominance of Jewish immigrants and the stories of their homelands in early Hollywood is well known. But Wright has created a story in which many of the most fundamental elements of modern filmmaking - including splicing the negatives, dramatic montage and the very concept of the cinema itself - were in fact pioneered by simple folk in an Eastern Europe village, who essentially form one of the world's first ever film studios.
At the centre of all this is Motl Mendl (Damien Molony), an arrogant but passionate young man desperate to make best use of his inherited cinematograph, and Jacob Bindel (Antony Sher), a successful local timber merchant who agrees to bankroll Motl's films on the condition he stay in the shtetl and make them about local people.
The two quickly slip into the familiar director/producer roles - resentfully codependent, each battling for control - while Motl and his collaborator/muse/girlfriend Anna (Lauren O'Neil) start pioneering new filmmaking techniques. Before long, the documentary approach gives way to story-telling, ticketed screenings and a microcosm of the whole film industry flourishing in one village many thousands of miles from Hollywood.
It's a touching story to say the least, but Nicholas Hytner's production struggles to make it as funny, compelling or heartwarming as it sounds on paper. It's too long for one thing (around two hours, 45 minutes) taking almost an hour to get going. And the allusions to Hollywood cinema are at times a little clunky.
What really saves the production are a small number of delightful scenes that really capture both the wonderment and magic of early moving pictures, and some strong central performances - namely that of the superb Antony Sher.
It might not be the best one, but Travelling Light is still an affecting tribute to the birth of film as both an art form and a business.
Until March 6. Visit www.nationaltheatre.org.uk.
Hamlet review
Young Vic
****
Michael Sheen's Hamlet is one of the maddest out there - just like Ian Rickson's brave new production
Michael Sheen as Hamlet at The Young Vic, by Simon Annand
HAMLET is no stranger to radical reinterpretations, and Ian Rickson's new version is at the barmier end of the bunch.
As well as Michael Sheen's fabulously deranged central performance, the production which opened at the Young Vic on Wednesday will be remembered for chucking out one of the play's key threads - not so much the backbone but an important vertebrae - and turning the central character on his head.
In a nutshell, Hamlet is turned into a madman. Not the kind of simmering borderline psychotic we might have seen before, but a full blown fruitcake - an in-patient at the Elsinore psychiatric hospital, where Claudius is the chief consultant and Polonius the leading doctor.
Adding a touch of the immersive to the experience, the Young Vic has the audience enter the building through a back door, then navigate a maze of institutionalised corridors that take us past treatment rooms and signposts to places such as "secure ward" and "therapy". It's a little heavy handed but fun.
Finally we reach the main auditorium, designed as the hospital gymnasium. And it is here that we see Shakespeare's seminal text unfold through its new Cuckoo's Nest lens.
The ghost of Hamlet's father (who inspires his son's quest for revenge) is, in fact, Hamlet himself in the throws of a psychotic episode. And there are numerous instances where reality and delusion collide and coexist to occasionally confused yet often thrilling effect.
The principle downside to all of this is the loss of the play's substantial political backdrop, not to mention any sense of ambiguity as to the character's mental state.
But it remains a wildly compelling, brave and slightly boggling take on the play, and one that seems destined to divide audiences.
At worst, it is worth seeing for Sheen's show-stopping take on the character. A jittery wild-eyed wreck of rage and vulnerability, it's worth the entrance price alone.
Hamlet continues until January 21. Visit www.youngvic.org
As well as Michael Sheen's fabulously deranged central performance, the production which opened at the Young Vic on Wednesday will be remembered for chucking out one of the play's key threads - not so much the backbone but an important vertebrae - and turning the central character on his head.
In a nutshell, Hamlet is turned into a madman. Not the kind of simmering borderline psychotic we might have seen before, but a full blown fruitcake - an in-patient at the Elsinore psychiatric hospital, where Claudius is the chief consultant and Polonius the leading doctor.
Adding a touch of the immersive to the experience, the Young Vic has the audience enter the building through a back door, then navigate a maze of institutionalised corridors that take us past treatment rooms and signposts to places such as "secure ward" and "therapy". It's a little heavy handed but fun.
Finally we reach the main auditorium, designed as the hospital gymnasium. And it is here that we see Shakespeare's seminal text unfold through its new Cuckoo's Nest lens.
The ghost of Hamlet's father (who inspires his son's quest for revenge) is, in fact, Hamlet himself in the throws of a psychotic episode. And there are numerous instances where reality and delusion collide and coexist to occasionally confused yet often thrilling effect.
The principle downside to all of this is the loss of the play's substantial political backdrop, not to mention any sense of ambiguity as to the character's mental state.
But it remains a wildly compelling, brave and slightly boggling take on the play, and one that seems destined to divide audiences.
At worst, it is worth seeing for Sheen's show-stopping take on the character. A jittery wild-eyed wreck of rage and vulnerability, it's worth the entrance price alone.
Hamlet continues until January 21. Visit www.youngvic.org
Jerusalem feature
South London Press, October 2011
Jez Butterworth's play Jerusalem is one of the decade's theatrical must-sees. As it returns to the West End after a triumphant run on Broadway, DAN FROST speaks to Clapham-based cast member Charlotte Mills about its amazing journey, and about lead actor Mark Rylance in that role
IT'S hard to find a critic who didn't give Jerusalem five stars. "An instant modern classic," was the Telegraph's verdict. "Spellbinding, exuberant and glowingly atmospheric," gushed Time Out. "This play, this production, this performance are sensational," claimed the FT.
As you can probably guess, Jerusalem is a pretty special piece of theatre. Dealing with the very nature of Englishness in the modern age, Jez Butterworth's play is the kind of caustic, eye-opening and devastatingly funny state-of-the-nation piece that comes along only once or twice in a generation.
Having started life at the Royal Court in 2009, it then transferred to the West End, where it enjoyed similar adulation. And then came Broadway, where sell-out audiences gave standing ovations every night of the six month run, and where it was nominated for several Tony Awards.
Now, more than two years since it first opened in London, the play is returning to the West End for a triumphant closing run. Most of the original cast have been with the production throughout. And it's been an incredible journey for all involved - not least for 26-year-old Clapham actress Charlotte Mills, who won the part straight out of drama school.
"I just feel incredibly lucky, because Jerusalem was actually my first proper job after I graduated," she tells me, still sounding a little overwhelmed by her fortune. "One little audition at the Royal Court has led to all of this - to the West End, Broadway, the Tony Awards... it's just been one incredible moment after the next."
Charlotte plays Tanya, one of the local youths who hangs around with central character Jonny 'Rooster' Byron (Rylance) at his caravan on the outskirts of a Wiltshire village. A larger-than-life social misfit who's at odds with every authority going, he acts as a kind of storytelling, drug-pushing Pied Piper figure to his band of disaffected followers.
The play marks a high point in the career of writer Butterworth. He has had considerable success in both theatre and film over the past 15 years, but Jerusalem is on another level.
I ask Mills if she and the other cast members could tell straight away - even in early rehearsals - that they were dealing with a classic piece of theatre.
"It was funny because I think we all kind of knew it was something really astounding and quite special, but you don't want to get too excited. We would all just look at each other beaming, but no one wanted to actually say 'this is really incredible'.
"I actually remember when I got the script, I just sat down and read it in one reading - I couldn't put it down. And at that stage the play was probably about four hours long, because it hadn't been cut yet. Even then it was one of the most exciting things I had read in a very long time."
As you can probably guess, Jerusalem is a pretty special piece of theatre. Dealing with the very nature of Englishness in the modern age, Jez Butterworth's play is the kind of caustic, eye-opening and devastatingly funny state-of-the-nation piece that comes along only once or twice in a generation.
Having started life at the Royal Court in 2009, it then transferred to the West End, where it enjoyed similar adulation. And then came Broadway, where sell-out audiences gave standing ovations every night of the six month run, and where it was nominated for several Tony Awards.
Now, more than two years since it first opened in London, the play is returning to the West End for a triumphant closing run. Most of the original cast have been with the production throughout. And it's been an incredible journey for all involved - not least for 26-year-old Clapham actress Charlotte Mills, who won the part straight out of drama school.
"I just feel incredibly lucky, because Jerusalem was actually my first proper job after I graduated," she tells me, still sounding a little overwhelmed by her fortune. "One little audition at the Royal Court has led to all of this - to the West End, Broadway, the Tony Awards... it's just been one incredible moment after the next."
Charlotte plays Tanya, one of the local youths who hangs around with central character Jonny 'Rooster' Byron (Rylance) at his caravan on the outskirts of a Wiltshire village. A larger-than-life social misfit who's at odds with every authority going, he acts as a kind of storytelling, drug-pushing Pied Piper figure to his band of disaffected followers.
The play marks a high point in the career of writer Butterworth. He has had considerable success in both theatre and film over the past 15 years, but Jerusalem is on another level.
I ask Mills if she and the other cast members could tell straight away - even in early rehearsals - that they were dealing with a classic piece of theatre.
"It was funny because I think we all kind of knew it was something really astounding and quite special, but you don't want to get too excited. We would all just look at each other beaming, but no one wanted to actually say 'this is really incredible'.
"I actually remember when I got the script, I just sat down and read it in one reading - I couldn't put it down. And at that stage the play was probably about four hours long, because it hadn't been cut yet. Even then it was one of the most exciting things I had read in a very long time."
Jerusalem is certainly a masterful achievement for Butterworth. But his glory has almost been overshadowed by that of his leading man.
Already thought of as one of the greatest stage actors of his generation, with Jerusalem Rylance's stock went through the roof - on both sides of the pond. He took home a Tony and an Olivier Award for the performance, and he is the part of the play that most people go away talking about.
As a quick indication of just how impressive he is in the show, the same Telegraph critic that called the play a "modern classic" went on to call Rylance's performance "one of the greatest I have ever seen". From a man who spends every night in the theatre, that's a sizeable compliment.
"From the first read through, he's never been anything but that character," Charlotte tells me. "Even on the first day of rehearsals, I met him and he's such a humble man and so beautifully spoken and quite quiet, and then he suddenly just turned into this larger-than-life, quite grotesque character.
"It's quite incredible," she goes on, "I don't think I've ever once seen him slip out of it in rehearsal. Even his eyes change. Something changes very deep within him, and I've never seen it not be there for a second. It's just amazing to see, and such a joy to be on stage with him and play with him every night."
We start discussing the show's success on Broadway. Charlotte talks a little about the American intrigue in a side of Englishness that they don't often hear about - that doesn't quite fit with the Kate and Wills-sponsored tourism brochure. But then it's back to Rylance, who apparently is "a bit of a God over there".
"People were going a bit gaga over him," she laughs. "People are much more reserved in England. We don't get many people at the stage door over here, but on Broadway he would have so many people waiting at the stage door. And whenever we were in a bar, people would always be coming up to him, just wanting to speak to him and talk about the character.
"We also met people outside who said they'd been to see it 10 times. People got a bit mental over it really."
It's also to Broadway that Charlotte turns when I ask her for a number one highlight from a journey that's had its fair share.
"Opening night on Broadway was quite a high point," she says, sounding excited just to be reliving it. "When we were doing the curtain call, seeing the whole theatre completely full and everyone on their feet, I was just bursting with pride at how far we'd come.
"We've become a bit of a family now, and to be able to stand there together, showing what we've achieved, it was pretty special really."
This family are now approaching the end of their mammoth theatrical journey. The West End run is scheduled to close in January, at which point they will all move on to pastures new.
But they still have a few months left in which to bask in the glory of packed houses and standing ovations. Because once again, this epic hymn to the sour underbelly of rural England is one of the hottest tickets in town.
Jerusalem is at the Apollo Theatre, Shaftesbury Avenue, from October 8 to January 14. Visit www.royalcourttheatre.com or call 020 7565 5000.
Already thought of as one of the greatest stage actors of his generation, with Jerusalem Rylance's stock went through the roof - on both sides of the pond. He took home a Tony and an Olivier Award for the performance, and he is the part of the play that most people go away talking about.
As a quick indication of just how impressive he is in the show, the same Telegraph critic that called the play a "modern classic" went on to call Rylance's performance "one of the greatest I have ever seen". From a man who spends every night in the theatre, that's a sizeable compliment.
"From the first read through, he's never been anything but that character," Charlotte tells me. "Even on the first day of rehearsals, I met him and he's such a humble man and so beautifully spoken and quite quiet, and then he suddenly just turned into this larger-than-life, quite grotesque character.
"It's quite incredible," she goes on, "I don't think I've ever once seen him slip out of it in rehearsal. Even his eyes change. Something changes very deep within him, and I've never seen it not be there for a second. It's just amazing to see, and such a joy to be on stage with him and play with him every night."
We start discussing the show's success on Broadway. Charlotte talks a little about the American intrigue in a side of Englishness that they don't often hear about - that doesn't quite fit with the Kate and Wills-sponsored tourism brochure. But then it's back to Rylance, who apparently is "a bit of a God over there".
"People were going a bit gaga over him," she laughs. "People are much more reserved in England. We don't get many people at the stage door over here, but on Broadway he would have so many people waiting at the stage door. And whenever we were in a bar, people would always be coming up to him, just wanting to speak to him and talk about the character.
"We also met people outside who said they'd been to see it 10 times. People got a bit mental over it really."
It's also to Broadway that Charlotte turns when I ask her for a number one highlight from a journey that's had its fair share.
"Opening night on Broadway was quite a high point," she says, sounding excited just to be reliving it. "When we were doing the curtain call, seeing the whole theatre completely full and everyone on their feet, I was just bursting with pride at how far we'd come.
"We've become a bit of a family now, and to be able to stand there together, showing what we've achieved, it was pretty special really."
This family are now approaching the end of their mammoth theatrical journey. The West End run is scheduled to close in January, at which point they will all move on to pastures new.
But they still have a few months left in which to bask in the glory of packed houses and standing ovations. Because once again, this epic hymn to the sour underbelly of rural England is one of the hottest tickets in town.
Jerusalem is at the Apollo Theatre, Shaftesbury Avenue, from October 8 to January 14. Visit www.royalcourttheatre.com or call 020 7565 5000.
Parade review
Southwark Playhouse
****
A fast and fiery production brings this musical tale of racism in the Deep South to life with thrilling effect
Alastair Brookshaw in Parade at Southwark Playhouse, by Annabel Vere
DARK, damp and a little chilly, the Southwark Playhouse Vault is not an obvious place to stage this fiery and impassioned musical. But such is the power and precise execution of Thom Southerland's excellent production that it matters little.
In fact, the subterranean venue proves a surprisingly effective host. It's a close-quarters scenario, with the cast virtually on top of the audience, creating a tangible and highly charged intimacy. And John Risebero's design - essentially a long and narrow performance space in between two facing tiers of audience members - breeds a fluid and energetic staging, in which the cast rarely sit still, forever marching, dancing and running up and down the strip.
Parade is based on a particularly grotesque miscarriage of justice and subsequent extra-judicial killing in America's Deep South. It tells the story of Jewish businessman Leo Frank, who was falsely accused of murdering a 13-year-old girl who worked in his Atlanta pencil factory in 1913, leading to a deeply flawed and racist trial, and his eventual lynching by a mob.
Even by Deep South standards, it's a repulsive and highly emotive story. And it is very skilfully told by writer Alfred Uhry, with music and lyrics by Jason Robert.
Though economical in its narrative, Uhry's adaptation takes its time with the story, and is all the more compelling for it. The swelling community anger, legal corruption and political machinations all receive adequate attention and are strongly conveyed by an excellent and overwhelmingly young cast.
Amid all the fury and the baying blood thirst is a genuinely touching love story between Frank and his wife Lucille, here presented with great tenderness by Alastair Brookshaw and Laura Pitt-Pulford. Brookshaw might not have the best voice of the bunch, but he is magnificent in the role, his nervy awkwardness and shrivelling sense of hope minutely observed. And Pitt-Pulford is similarly well cast, delivering several bold and brassy songs with a power and conviction worthy of any West End stage.
It might be nice if Robert's score made more overt use of the region's rich musical heritage. But that's a minor quibble - many of the songs are powder kegs of emotion that ratchet up the temperature and add greatly to the murderous mood.
I'm unsure if the production would be quite so potent in a larger West End theatre, though it certainly seems worthy of a transfer. One way or the other, in its current location it is raw, real and highly recommended.
Parade continues at Southwark Playhouse until September 17. Visit www.southwarkplayhouse.co.uk or call 020 7407 0234.
In fact, the subterranean venue proves a surprisingly effective host. It's a close-quarters scenario, with the cast virtually on top of the audience, creating a tangible and highly charged intimacy. And John Risebero's design - essentially a long and narrow performance space in between two facing tiers of audience members - breeds a fluid and energetic staging, in which the cast rarely sit still, forever marching, dancing and running up and down the strip.
Parade is based on a particularly grotesque miscarriage of justice and subsequent extra-judicial killing in America's Deep South. It tells the story of Jewish businessman Leo Frank, who was falsely accused of murdering a 13-year-old girl who worked in his Atlanta pencil factory in 1913, leading to a deeply flawed and racist trial, and his eventual lynching by a mob.
Even by Deep South standards, it's a repulsive and highly emotive story. And it is very skilfully told by writer Alfred Uhry, with music and lyrics by Jason Robert.
Though economical in its narrative, Uhry's adaptation takes its time with the story, and is all the more compelling for it. The swelling community anger, legal corruption and political machinations all receive adequate attention and are strongly conveyed by an excellent and overwhelmingly young cast.
Amid all the fury and the baying blood thirst is a genuinely touching love story between Frank and his wife Lucille, here presented with great tenderness by Alastair Brookshaw and Laura Pitt-Pulford. Brookshaw might not have the best voice of the bunch, but he is magnificent in the role, his nervy awkwardness and shrivelling sense of hope minutely observed. And Pitt-Pulford is similarly well cast, delivering several bold and brassy songs with a power and conviction worthy of any West End stage.
It might be nice if Robert's score made more overt use of the region's rich musical heritage. But that's a minor quibble - many of the songs are powder kegs of emotion that ratchet up the temperature and add greatly to the murderous mood.
I'm unsure if the production would be quite so potent in a larger West End theatre, though it certainly seems worthy of a transfer. One way or the other, in its current location it is raw, real and highly recommended.
Parade continues at Southwark Playhouse until September 17. Visit www.southwarkplayhouse.co.uk or call 020 7407 0234.
Richard III review
Old Vic
****
Kevin Spacey delivers the performance of his theatrical career as Shakespeare's greatest villain.
Kevin Spacey as Richard III at the Old Vic, by Alastair Muir
LAURENCE OLIVIER'S Richard III is one the defining performances from his time as Old Vic director. Now, more than 65 years later, current artistic director Kevin Spacey has used the role to provide a similar milestone for his own tenure at the Waterloo theatre, in a production that sees the Hollywood icon teaming up with director Sam Mendes for the first time since their Oscar-winning film American Beauty.
It is, however, other films from Spacey's cinematic career that offer the most obvious precedents for his fabulous turn as Shakespeare's most notorious and irredeemably wicked villain. As John Doe in Se7en and Verbal in The Usual Suspects, Spacey has served as two of the most memorably chilling baddies in recent cinema history, so is something of a natural fit for Richard - the baddest baddie of them all.
Mendes' modern dress production is commendably clear, uncluttered and often brutally simple: executions are staged by the sweep of a hand across the victim's face, accompanied by the unnerving high-pitched cry of a passing blade; and Tom Piper's design rarely gets more complicated than grey brushed-wood walls, ominously covered with doors - each eventually marked with a cross to signify the departure of yet another victim.
But it is Spacey's thrilling central performance that makes this such a compelling theatrical hit. Hunchbacked and with a mechanical brace on one leg, his "dreadful monster of hell" hobbles around the stage with such malevolence that you're often fearful to take your eyes off him.
Even with the disability, he has a remarkably vicious energy, bounding about the stage and flitting from sliver-tongued manipulator to scowling schemer to terrifying prophet of rage to bitter and self-loathing cripple all in the blink of an eye.
As with any period in history, it's not hard to find Richard's modern day relevance; ruthless and exacting, many of the Arab Spring despots seem to be doing their best to live up to his bloody benchmark.
But Spacey's magnificent performance would stand-alone as a classic in any age. Even when he injects humour into the role, teasing the cartoonish from the carnage, he is deliciously depraved and dangerous with it.
As the closing production in Mendes' Bridge Project, Richard III proves to be the highlight production of its three year lifespan. And, though Spacey still has at least a few years left at the theatre, his magnificent Richard looks likely to become the performance that defines his entire Old Vic career.
Richard III is at The Old Vic until September 11. Visit www.oldvictheatre.com or call 0844 871 7628.
It is, however, other films from Spacey's cinematic career that offer the most obvious precedents for his fabulous turn as Shakespeare's most notorious and irredeemably wicked villain. As John Doe in Se7en and Verbal in The Usual Suspects, Spacey has served as two of the most memorably chilling baddies in recent cinema history, so is something of a natural fit for Richard - the baddest baddie of them all.
Mendes' modern dress production is commendably clear, uncluttered and often brutally simple: executions are staged by the sweep of a hand across the victim's face, accompanied by the unnerving high-pitched cry of a passing blade; and Tom Piper's design rarely gets more complicated than grey brushed-wood walls, ominously covered with doors - each eventually marked with a cross to signify the departure of yet another victim.
But it is Spacey's thrilling central performance that makes this such a compelling theatrical hit. Hunchbacked and with a mechanical brace on one leg, his "dreadful monster of hell" hobbles around the stage with such malevolence that you're often fearful to take your eyes off him.
Even with the disability, he has a remarkably vicious energy, bounding about the stage and flitting from sliver-tongued manipulator to scowling schemer to terrifying prophet of rage to bitter and self-loathing cripple all in the blink of an eye.
As with any period in history, it's not hard to find Richard's modern day relevance; ruthless and exacting, many of the Arab Spring despots seem to be doing their best to live up to his bloody benchmark.
But Spacey's magnificent performance would stand-alone as a classic in any age. Even when he injects humour into the role, teasing the cartoonish from the carnage, he is deliciously depraved and dangerous with it.
As the closing production in Mendes' Bridge Project, Richard III proves to be the highlight production of its three year lifespan. And, though Spacey still has at least a few years left at the theatre, his magnificent Richard looks likely to become the performance that defines his entire Old Vic career.
Richard III is at The Old Vic until September 11. Visit www.oldvictheatre.com or call 0844 871 7628.
John Constable interview
South London Press, June 2011
As a new edition of his Southwark Mysteries is published, poet and playwright John Constable speaks
to DAN FROST about the fascinating story behind its creation and the exciting history that inspired it.
to DAN FROST about the fascinating story behind its creation and the exciting history that inspired it.
John Constable at the Cross Bones Graveyard in Bankside. By Paul Godfrey
"SAVE Southwark," calls the cafe owner after us as we walk out onto Borough High Street. John Constable turns and waves with a smile. Saving Southwark is very much his business.
For the past 15 years the Borough-based poet, playwright and performer has devoted his life to unearthing, preserving and popularising the notoriously seedy history of this vibrant corner of London. Just 10 minutes earlier he was talking in his usual excited fashion about its nefarious past.
"The city rejected Southwark, they didn't want us," he enthuses. "This is where they stuck all their bars, brothels, bear-baiting pits, theatres - all their entertainment - because they didn't want it in the city itself. And I think we should cherish that as a unique identity. Part of my job, as I see it, is to persuade whatever the establishment might be in Southwark that our best bet is to honour our dodgy past."
It was this dodgy past that gave birth to The Southwark Mysteries, John's highly-regarded combination of historically-inspired poems and medieval-style mystery plays. To many living in the area, he is most famous as the leading campaigner in the fight to protect the Cross Bones Graveyard from development (more of this in a bit). But in literary and theatrical circles, The Southwark Mysteries is his defining work. These two endeavours, however, are entirely interwoven; indeed, they are almost one and the same.
Having settled in the Borough in 1986, it was not until 10 years later that John decided to create a work that drew on the thrilling local history he had gradually discovered.
"What fascinates me about Southwark's history is that it is so violent and brutal - it's a despised part of London - and yet out of this comes something extraordinary: the birthplace of English theatre and a very dynamic community in which lots of new trades prosper - glassblowing, potting, weaving, brewing.
"I suddenly realised that I live in a place that is itself a sort of image of the creative process. And this is what The Southwark Mysteries becomes - it's a celebration of the outcast, the outlaw, the outsider sides of life."
In particular, he wanted to draw on the legend of the so-called Winchester Geese - prostitutes who were licensed to work in Southwark by the Bishop of Winchester. And it was this element of Southwark's history that would come to define his life for ever more.
For the past 15 years the Borough-based poet, playwright and performer has devoted his life to unearthing, preserving and popularising the notoriously seedy history of this vibrant corner of London. Just 10 minutes earlier he was talking in his usual excited fashion about its nefarious past.
"The city rejected Southwark, they didn't want us," he enthuses. "This is where they stuck all their bars, brothels, bear-baiting pits, theatres - all their entertainment - because they didn't want it in the city itself. And I think we should cherish that as a unique identity. Part of my job, as I see it, is to persuade whatever the establishment might be in Southwark that our best bet is to honour our dodgy past."
It was this dodgy past that gave birth to The Southwark Mysteries, John's highly-regarded combination of historically-inspired poems and medieval-style mystery plays. To many living in the area, he is most famous as the leading campaigner in the fight to protect the Cross Bones Graveyard from development (more of this in a bit). But in literary and theatrical circles, The Southwark Mysteries is his defining work. These two endeavours, however, are entirely interwoven; indeed, they are almost one and the same.
Having settled in the Borough in 1986, it was not until 10 years later that John decided to create a work that drew on the thrilling local history he had gradually discovered.
"What fascinates me about Southwark's history is that it is so violent and brutal - it's a despised part of London - and yet out of this comes something extraordinary: the birthplace of English theatre and a very dynamic community in which lots of new trades prosper - glassblowing, potting, weaving, brewing.
"I suddenly realised that I live in a place that is itself a sort of image of the creative process. And this is what The Southwark Mysteries becomes - it's a celebration of the outcast, the outlaw, the outsider sides of life."
In particular, he wanted to draw on the legend of the so-called Winchester Geese - prostitutes who were licensed to work in Southwark by the Bishop of Winchester. And it was this element of Southwark's history that would come to define his life for ever more.
Possession
John Constable at one of the Cross Bones ceremonies. By Katie Nicholls
On November 23 1996, John experienced what he calls "a possession, a haunting, an act of mediumship". During a night of intense writing, he was visited, guided, inspired - whatever you want to call it - by "a voice from the past", the voice of a prostitute who serviced Bankside's brutal streets hundreds of years ago, and which he calls simply "the Goose".
Ok, it sounds a little far-fetched. Utterly preposterous to some. But whatever your take, John found intense poetic verse spilling from him with little control, "reciting itself to me" and taking him off on a late night walk around Bankside.
"It took me so powerfully, it was quite a spooky night," he says. "And I ended up, at two or three in the morning, just walking out around the streets as more and more of the poem was writing itself in me. Somewhere in that night we ended up at the gates of this deserted work yard, and this was where a central part of this first poem just wrote itself in me."
As you might have guessed, this turned out to be the Cross Bones Graveyard. For those not in the know, this is the unconsecrated resting place of around 15,000 bodies. In Victorian times it was an all-serving pauper's graveyard, but for many years prior the unconsecrated ground functioned as a burial site for prostitutes whose "wicked" trade made them ineligible for church burial. Built over and forgotten for more than 100 years, John has spent the past 15 years campaigning to have the now derelict land protected as a public memorial park...and it all began with the Goose and their fateful midnight ramble.
What also began in earnest that night was The Southwark Mysteries, which grew out of the poems written by/about the Goose and her supposed resting place. Even though he had - to his knowledge - never heard it before, the name Cross Bones came up in the poems John penned that night. It wasn't until he began to explore the history in the coming weeks that he discovered it was a name used to refer to an old "single women's burial ground" - and realised that this was the work yard the Goose had led him to.
"It really shifted the way I thought about it," he remembers, "from being just another poem to actually thinking, 'this is something very big, and it's not just something I'm making up - it's tapping into or connecting very strongly with a real history that's all around me'. There were lots of lines that, no joke, did give me goosebumps."
Soon after, John was approached by Dean of Southwark Colin Slee to write a series of medieval mystery plays that drew on the story of Christianity to mark the Millennium. John dutifully crafted an epic tale set in Southwark on the day of judgement with none other than The Goose and his other key muse/alter-ego, John Crow, at its centre.
The piece was performed with great success at Southwark Cathedral and The Globe in 2000, and again at the cathedral last year. But far from being an isolated project, The Southwark Mysteries is what John calls "a living work". Even with a new edition just published, he's always writing new Southwark-inspired poems that could be added to future editions.
And many of these he performs at Cross Bones ceremonial events, such as the ritual Halloween celebrations. In short, the Cross Bones campaign and the Mysteries poems are symbiotic; they feed and fire the passion in each other. And they both deal in a brand of sometimes uncomfortable, beneath-the-surface history, the preservation of which is like the overarching theme to all of John's endeavours.
After the interview, we stop to chat with the affable owner of Nelson's sandwich bar. He knows John and is similarly passionate about the local area, voicing a well-trodden scepticism about new developments (ahem, Shard, ahem) and the fear that lesser-known Bankside history might be built over and forgotten - just as Cross Bones was for so long.
"Save Southwark," he calls as we walk out onto Borough High Street. John Constable turns and waves with a smile. "We'll keep trying," he calls back.
The Southwark Mysteries and Secret Bankside, John's book of historic walks, are both published by Oberon Books. John will perform poems and songs from The Southwark Mysteries on June 16 at Woolfson & Tay Bookshop in Bermondsey Square (http://woolfsonandtay.com). He will also host an evening of open air poetry and song in the Red Cross Garden near Cross Bones Graveyard on June 23 (www.southwarkmysteries.co.uk).
Ok, it sounds a little far-fetched. Utterly preposterous to some. But whatever your take, John found intense poetic verse spilling from him with little control, "reciting itself to me" and taking him off on a late night walk around Bankside.
"It took me so powerfully, it was quite a spooky night," he says. "And I ended up, at two or three in the morning, just walking out around the streets as more and more of the poem was writing itself in me. Somewhere in that night we ended up at the gates of this deserted work yard, and this was where a central part of this first poem just wrote itself in me."
As you might have guessed, this turned out to be the Cross Bones Graveyard. For those not in the know, this is the unconsecrated resting place of around 15,000 bodies. In Victorian times it was an all-serving pauper's graveyard, but for many years prior the unconsecrated ground functioned as a burial site for prostitutes whose "wicked" trade made them ineligible for church burial. Built over and forgotten for more than 100 years, John has spent the past 15 years campaigning to have the now derelict land protected as a public memorial park...and it all began with the Goose and their fateful midnight ramble.
What also began in earnest that night was The Southwark Mysteries, which grew out of the poems written by/about the Goose and her supposed resting place. Even though he had - to his knowledge - never heard it before, the name Cross Bones came up in the poems John penned that night. It wasn't until he began to explore the history in the coming weeks that he discovered it was a name used to refer to an old "single women's burial ground" - and realised that this was the work yard the Goose had led him to.
"It really shifted the way I thought about it," he remembers, "from being just another poem to actually thinking, 'this is something very big, and it's not just something I'm making up - it's tapping into or connecting very strongly with a real history that's all around me'. There were lots of lines that, no joke, did give me goosebumps."
Soon after, John was approached by Dean of Southwark Colin Slee to write a series of medieval mystery plays that drew on the story of Christianity to mark the Millennium. John dutifully crafted an epic tale set in Southwark on the day of judgement with none other than The Goose and his other key muse/alter-ego, John Crow, at its centre.
The piece was performed with great success at Southwark Cathedral and The Globe in 2000, and again at the cathedral last year. But far from being an isolated project, The Southwark Mysteries is what John calls "a living work". Even with a new edition just published, he's always writing new Southwark-inspired poems that could be added to future editions.
And many of these he performs at Cross Bones ceremonial events, such as the ritual Halloween celebrations. In short, the Cross Bones campaign and the Mysteries poems are symbiotic; they feed and fire the passion in each other. And they both deal in a brand of sometimes uncomfortable, beneath-the-surface history, the preservation of which is like the overarching theme to all of John's endeavours.
After the interview, we stop to chat with the affable owner of Nelson's sandwich bar. He knows John and is similarly passionate about the local area, voicing a well-trodden scepticism about new developments (ahem, Shard, ahem) and the fear that lesser-known Bankside history might be built over and forgotten - just as Cross Bones was for so long.
"Save Southwark," he calls as we walk out onto Borough High Street. John Constable turns and waves with a smile. "We'll keep trying," he calls back.
The Southwark Mysteries and Secret Bankside, John's book of historic walks, are both published by Oberon Books. John will perform poems and songs from The Southwark Mysteries on June 16 at Woolfson & Tay Bookshop in Bermondsey Square (http://woolfsonandtay.com). He will also host an evening of open air poetry and song in the Red Cross Garden near Cross Bones Graveyard on June 23 (www.southwarkmysteries.co.uk).
One Man, Two Guvnors review
National Theatre
****
James Corden makes a hilarious return to the National Theatre stage in a new comedy classic from writer Richard Bean.
IT'S fair to say I haven't seen a theatre audience laugh like this in a very long time.
Such is the level of hysterics that I actually fear for the health of some of the more elderly folk around me in the stalls. There must be at least a dozen people flirting with coronaries as they gasp for breath between gags. Some audience members are only a wobbly seat away from rolling in the aisles, and many others seem to spend the entire play either buckled over or covering their faces in hysterical glee. Yes, One Man, Two Guvnors really is that funny.
Taking the story of Carlo Goldoni's The Servant Of Two Masters as his foundation, writer Richard Bean has created a riotously funny farce that distils the best bits of British comedy from the last 100 years into one enormously enjoyable package.
It is obviously derivative, but that's precisely the point: Carry On, Benny Hill, Blackadder, Only Fools And Horses, Up Pompeii, Fawlty Towers; all have left their mark on a show packed with quick-fire witticisms, innuendo and time-honoured physical comedy. Looking a little further back, the production's embrace of Music Hall sees actors addressing the audience freely, and even pulling some punters onto the stage for ritual humiliations that take One Man closer to panto than many National Theatre purists might feel comfortable. And that's another thing that makes this so enjoyable: the fact it is so far from what you would expect to see on the stage of the National.
Bean has located the play in Brighton in 1963. And we have James Corden in the central role, displaying the kind of charm and flawed charisma we saw in Gavin and Stacey - thankfully avoiding the obnoxiousness shown at certain recent award ceremonies.
Driven by a ravenous hunger, his Jack-the-lad chancer of a character finds himself as "man" (dogsbody basically) to two different bosses. One is the sister of a recently deceased gangster, who is disguised as her dead brother in a bid to flee the country (yeah, hardly a watertight plot point); the other is a public school posho who actually murdered said gangster and is, in fact, the secret lover of the gangster's sister - the one who's now dressed as the gangster (come on, keep up). Farce-tastic you might say.
Of course, neither of the young lovers knows the other is in Brighton - nor that they are employing the same man, who, so as to avoid losing either position, has to keep the pair apart at all costs.
It's a formulaic set-up to say the least. But, once again, that's the point, and it's a formula that's delivered with all the panache of its classic inspirations.
Even by Carry On standards the dialogue gets a little too cheap at times, and certain scenes could benefit from a trim. But the level of the rest of the comedy easily overshadows the weaker moments, the 20 minutes before the interval being 20 of the funniest minutes of theatre I've ever seen.
Some of the supporting cast also fall short of the prestigious stage they occupy, but the sterling work of the leading actors more than makes up for them - as well as Corden, particular mention goes to Jemima Rooper and Oliver Curtis as his guvnors, and recent Bafta-winner Daniel Rigby who is hysterical as a young wannabe actor.
The presence of James Corden in the leading role meant One Man, Two Guvnors was always likely to do well. But the energetic flare of director Nicholas Hytner's production and the sheer hilarity of Bean's script make this one of the hottest tickets in town.
One Man, Two Guvnors continues at the National Theatre until July 26. Visit www.nationaltheatre.org.uk.
The Cherry Orchard review
National Theatre
****
Howard Davies' production of Chekhov's masterpiece is undermined by Andrew Upton's questionable adaptation.
AFTER its wonderful set, the first thing that's likely to stand out in Howard Davies' production of Chekhov's masterpiece is the peculiarly modern slant of the language.
As has been highlighted (and widely criticised) in pretty much every review of the production thus far, Andrew Upton's new adaptation has rather cavalierly bolstered the original text with an array of misplaced modern day slang. We are thus presented with members of the landed gentry in early 20th century Russia using contemporary colloquialisms such as "bollocks" and "frigging". This might not be quite so inappropriate were the rest of the production not so stringent in its period detail. But with time and place so effectively conveyed by everything but the language, the result is a script that jars and distracts.
Which is certainly a shame, as much of the rest of the production is commendable. The Chekhovian duality of humour and anguish feels toned down here, and the final emotional punch is somewhat muted, but it is a deep and satisfying production that conveys the complex struggle of its central family and their nation with warmth, delicacy and intelligence.
Russia, like the family of landowner Ranyevskaya (Zoë Wanamaker), is at a difficult crossroads in 1904. Tradition and modernisation are rubbing furiously against each other just like rich and poor - the conflict that would become bloody revolution just over a decade later.
Like much of the landed class at this time, Ranyevskaya is now broke, her estate and its beloved cherry orchard teetering in the balance. Just as it once provided her family's wealth and her own privileged upbringing, the moribund orchard - or, specifically, her refusal to tear it down in favour of holiday homes - is now the anchor dragging her and the family down.
But she cannot let go. This fertile patch of land is a symbol of the youth she so treasures, just as it is a symbol of the old Russia clung to by a weakened aristocracy: cherry orchard vs holiday homes; tradition vs modernisation; old vs new.
It is a remarkably deft dramatisation of a nation in shift, and one that also nods to the political conflict that will flare in the coming years. Terse words are shared between entrepreneurial merchant Lopakhin (Conleth Hill) and radical young left winger Petya (Mark Bonnar), as Chekhov looks presciently out over a century of conflict, foreseeing the ground on which the big ideological battle would be fought.
These and other compelling elements of this superb play are skilfully evoked in Davies' lively yet controlled production.
Bunny Christie's excellent set is a perfect embodiment of its inhabitants' lives: old brushed wood that has seen better days, you can almost hear it creaking as a new world pushes up from below.
And a solid ensemble cast bring it all to life with great flare and emotion - particular mention goes to the splendid Wanamaker, Hill, Bonnar and James Laurenson as Ranyevskaya's high-spirited brother Gaev.
These are the estimable strengths that allow you to look past Upton's irritating adaptation, and which rescue this production from being, well, frigging bollocks.
The Cherry Orchard continues until July 28. Visit www.nationaltheatre.org.uk.
As has been highlighted (and widely criticised) in pretty much every review of the production thus far, Andrew Upton's new adaptation has rather cavalierly bolstered the original text with an array of misplaced modern day slang. We are thus presented with members of the landed gentry in early 20th century Russia using contemporary colloquialisms such as "bollocks" and "frigging". This might not be quite so inappropriate were the rest of the production not so stringent in its period detail. But with time and place so effectively conveyed by everything but the language, the result is a script that jars and distracts.
Which is certainly a shame, as much of the rest of the production is commendable. The Chekhovian duality of humour and anguish feels toned down here, and the final emotional punch is somewhat muted, but it is a deep and satisfying production that conveys the complex struggle of its central family and their nation with warmth, delicacy and intelligence.
Russia, like the family of landowner Ranyevskaya (Zoë Wanamaker), is at a difficult crossroads in 1904. Tradition and modernisation are rubbing furiously against each other just like rich and poor - the conflict that would become bloody revolution just over a decade later.
Like much of the landed class at this time, Ranyevskaya is now broke, her estate and its beloved cherry orchard teetering in the balance. Just as it once provided her family's wealth and her own privileged upbringing, the moribund orchard - or, specifically, her refusal to tear it down in favour of holiday homes - is now the anchor dragging her and the family down.
But she cannot let go. This fertile patch of land is a symbol of the youth she so treasures, just as it is a symbol of the old Russia clung to by a weakened aristocracy: cherry orchard vs holiday homes; tradition vs modernisation; old vs new.
It is a remarkably deft dramatisation of a nation in shift, and one that also nods to the political conflict that will flare in the coming years. Terse words are shared between entrepreneurial merchant Lopakhin (Conleth Hill) and radical young left winger Petya (Mark Bonnar), as Chekhov looks presciently out over a century of conflict, foreseeing the ground on which the big ideological battle would be fought.
These and other compelling elements of this superb play are skilfully evoked in Davies' lively yet controlled production.
Bunny Christie's excellent set is a perfect embodiment of its inhabitants' lives: old brushed wood that has seen better days, you can almost hear it creaking as a new world pushes up from below.
And a solid ensemble cast bring it all to life with great flare and emotion - particular mention goes to the splendid Wanamaker, Hill, Bonnar and James Laurenson as Ranyevskaya's high-spirited brother Gaev.
These are the estimable strengths that allow you to look past Upton's irritating adaptation, and which rescue this production from being, well, frigging bollocks.
The Cherry Orchard continues until July 28. Visit www.nationaltheatre.org.uk.
I Am The Wind review
Young Vic
***
Director Patrice Chéreau and one stunning prop rescue Jon Fosse's dull play at the Young Vic.
ANYONE without a strong stomach for theatre's most cerebral climbs is going to have a hard time getting through Jon Fosse's slow burning and frequently dull play.
Even with a short running time of just 70 minutes, this philosophical meditation on depression drags its feet relentlessly. Translated from Fosse's native Norwegian by Simon Stephens, it is a text so heavily weighed down by frustrating repetition that it is at times almost excruciating in its verbosity.
It is, therefore, all the more remarkable that director Patrice Chéreau has managed to create a production that is at points compelling and deeply memorable. This is the celebrated French director's long-awaited UK debut, and it demonstrates a bravura visual style that breathes vitality into its sluggish text.
What little story we have focuses on two characters, The One and The Other (annoyingly pretentious before it's even begun). The One is a pasty, dead-eyed depressive who describes his condition through laboured sea-related metaphors. The Other is an innocent, almost child-like friend who seeks to understand The One's mindset - often by repeating exactly what he has just told him. Truly, if each character was only allowed to articulate an idea once, and the other character wasn't allowed to repeat it, the play would probably be about half the length.
Mercifully, a slow first half is interrupted by a fabulous theatrical coup, when a large mechanical platform erupts suddenly from beneath the muddy pool of water that covers much of the sunken stage. Becoming the boat that takes the pair on a fateful journey out to sea, this remarkable prop soars and drops with increasing vigour as it hits the imagined waves, squeezing the text for every dramatic drop.
This enormously effective prop is the centrepiece of a wonderfully designed production, that is as bleak and desolate as The One's soul. And credit must also go to the young actors, Tom Brooke and Jack Laskey. In particular, Brooke is arresting as The One, finding a measured but persuasive vision of emotional and spiritual emptiness.
There is obviously some formidable talent at work in this production. It's just a shame that the play struggles to be worthy of their efforts.
I Am The Wind continues at the Young Vic until May 28. Visit http://youngvic.org/or call 020 7922 2922.
Even with a short running time of just 70 minutes, this philosophical meditation on depression drags its feet relentlessly. Translated from Fosse's native Norwegian by Simon Stephens, it is a text so heavily weighed down by frustrating repetition that it is at times almost excruciating in its verbosity.
It is, therefore, all the more remarkable that director Patrice Chéreau has managed to create a production that is at points compelling and deeply memorable. This is the celebrated French director's long-awaited UK debut, and it demonstrates a bravura visual style that breathes vitality into its sluggish text.
What little story we have focuses on two characters, The One and The Other (annoyingly pretentious before it's even begun). The One is a pasty, dead-eyed depressive who describes his condition through laboured sea-related metaphors. The Other is an innocent, almost child-like friend who seeks to understand The One's mindset - often by repeating exactly what he has just told him. Truly, if each character was only allowed to articulate an idea once, and the other character wasn't allowed to repeat it, the play would probably be about half the length.
Mercifully, a slow first half is interrupted by a fabulous theatrical coup, when a large mechanical platform erupts suddenly from beneath the muddy pool of water that covers much of the sunken stage. Becoming the boat that takes the pair on a fateful journey out to sea, this remarkable prop soars and drops with increasing vigour as it hits the imagined waves, squeezing the text for every dramatic drop.
This enormously effective prop is the centrepiece of a wonderfully designed production, that is as bleak and desolate as The One's soul. And credit must also go to the young actors, Tom Brooke and Jack Laskey. In particular, Brooke is arresting as The One, finding a measured but persuasive vision of emotional and spiritual emptiness.
There is obviously some formidable talent at work in this production. It's just a shame that the play struggles to be worthy of their efforts.
I Am The Wind continues at the Young Vic until May 28. Visit http://youngvic.org/or call 020 7922 2922.