Home Again, Home Again, Or: Theatrical Events in The United Kingdom

Back from another lovely trek across the pond. Still fairly jet-lagged, but back at work.

I may have more to write on these later, but for right now, a quick wrap up:

The Doctor Who Experience in Cardiff

Fun as hell, except for the lame 3D section...and a TERRIFIC museum (except for the screen constantly replaying Tennant's oh-so-overwrought regeneration over his TARDIS set).

Hamlet at the RSC in Stratford

Most expensive show we saw, and the most aggravating. I think I hated it, but I really would like to sit own with the director and just say, "OK...what?" Greg Hicks, as Claudius (doubled as the ghost), was really, really great. I also enjoyed the way they handled Ophelia's corpse, as in the picture above, onstage from the burial scene thru the rest of the show.

They simply did something odd in the character of Hamlet. Actor was too old, the performance was cold and uncharismatic, which was multiplied, and therefore I read it as intentional, by some maddening cuts in the text.

Full price 60 pounds, I think

 The Audience by Peter Morgan

Helen Mirren as the Queen, in a dramatization of her Tuesday -morning meetings with the Prime Minister. Lovely performances, lovely script (same writer as Frost/Nixon). I'm gonna take a guess and say it'll never play as well in the US. Requires too much knowledge of UK history. Quite funny and moving, for me. Mirren is pretty much perfection, and her hair and make-up team (with ON STAGE changes, in, literally, the blink of an eye) is probably moreso.

10 pound standing tickets

Passion Play by Peter Nichols

A really great show with a demanding concept...there are two versions of both lead roles. The character, and the character's inner voice. Sexy and compelling. Also with Zoe Wanamaker - who you may know as Cassandra, the last living human, in Doctor Who

1/2 price booth tickets. I think around 30 pounds.

Peter and Alice by John Logan

I'm guessing Judy Dench's final stage performance, what with her rapidly failing eyesight (pure supposition on my part). Regrettably, I was starting to get really sick when the show started (damn beef bourginon). Very talky and staid, and I found the direction rather too restrained, but you cannot fault the performances by Dame Dench and the really magnetic Ben Wishaw. CByrd found it beautiful and sad...crying by the end. Also neat because of Logan's Chicago connections.

10 pound day-of seats (matinee)

The Weir by Connor McPherson

Oh, my God, what a show. THE highlight of our theatre experiences. Great cast, with Brian Cox being simply, blindingly, magnificent. Dervla Kirwan (Miss Hartigan in "the Next Doctor") was also just....stunning. An incredibly, intimate, simple show. Felt like Chicago, in a way. 250 seat house, everyone was so close, but with some (probably unavoidable) poor sightlines. It's the first time we've seen a show by a non-profit company, with a season, and not a for-profit enterprise in a leased theatre, in London. Magic. 

7.50 pound day-of, standing, balcony seats. Then a couple waved us over, because they had two unused tickets and offered those seats to us.

I think this year was ALMOST as good as our first Treats/The Glass Menagerie/Equus/The 39 Steps year, but we spent so much less, and got into "completely sold out" (The Audience, Peter and Alice & The Weir) shows, by using the day seats offers, being willing to get up REALLY early to stand in line, and being willing, if need be, to stand in the theatre.

London Theatre 2011 - Part 3 - Pygmalion

The third evening of theatre we took in was Pygmalion at the Garrick Theatre.

I have fond memories of The Garrick, as this is the theatre where I saw my first West End production in 2007, Treats with Billie Piper. That show knocked my socks off, mainly because I knew nothing about what I was going to see before I sat down. I would still love to work on that script, in some capacity.

Anyway...

Pygmalion was a bit of a similar situation. Of course, I know the play, but I confess I have never seen a production. I've also not read the script since college. I, like most people, am probably far more familiar with the musical version My Fair Lady.

That's a damn shame, but we'll get to that in a minute.

The idea of Everett as Henry Higgins was intriguing, as was seeing Dame Diana Rigg live and in person. Yes, I'm one of the generation at least partially led to sexual awakening by Emma Peel on The Avengers. Otherwise, I went in with a bit of a blank slate.

What I got was a nice black comedy with a bit of a mean streak. A much more interesting take on the subject that My Fair Lady will ever provide. I can't help it, people start singing, and I start to zone out on character and relationships. It becomes pretty things being paraded around the stage, and I think My Fair Lady is exceptionally guilty, especially when this source material is so rich.

Again, I think most people who might take the time to read this probably know the plot of this play, so I'm not going to trudge back over it. Suffice to say that I think the questions this play raises about women, men and identity are still very, very valid. The show felt very fresh.

Everett is perhaps a bit too dour. I've just read a review that compared his first interest to the appearance of Jack the Ripper. I wouldn't go that far, but I think that he might've allowed Higgins to enjoy his experiment, and the presence of Eliza, a bit more. The show seems to want to spin Higgins as an overgrown man-child, and that's as valid a take as any, but I think a man-child would enjoy things a bit more.

That said, the man is wonderful with the turn of a phrase, and enjoyed great chemistry with Peter Eyre as Colonel Pickering.

Dame Rigg, however was able to tap into that childish joy and glee with Mrs. Higgins. the show took an upswing every time she entered the scene. A wonderful character, well rendered.

But, really, I will save my highest praise for Kara Tointon, a British soap star (EastEnders) making her West End debut. For an actress with very few listed stage credits, she KILLED as Eliza Doolittle. She hits all of the comic beats, from the street urchin flower girl, to the almost robotic "trained" Eliza that first appears, and then nails the emotional wallop of the ending. I have her to thank for the fact I may not be able to hear someone say "how do you do" again, without laughing. Kudos for an excellent performance from a stage newcomer.

It was also nice, as we moved toward the climax of the show, my mind sticking in elements form My fair Lady, that Pygmalion takes a much darker, and interesting turn. I loved it, and I think I may be outright annoyed with the changes made for the musical. What Bernard Shaw gives us is a story about the true dangers of reshaping and playing with human beings, instead of a simple romantic comedy. When Eliza takes her life into her own hands, and asserts herself, it's an ending that brings the point home, rather than undercutting it with a weakened romantic denouement.

Nice production of a show that I should've paid more attention to before now.

London Theatre 2011 - Part 2 - Much Ado About Nothing

So, before we ever left on the trip, I found out that David Tennant and Catherine Tate would be opening a new production of Much Ado About Nothing in the West End. Being large Doctor Who fans, especially of the 4th season of the revived version of the show, which co-starred Tennant and Tate, we actually booked seats for a preview before we even left. I want to make it very clear, we saw a preview performance.

One of the things that I really admire about Brits, in terms of their approach to Shakespeare, is that they seem to remember that The Bard was a populist playwright. He wrote for the masses, and was never, ever afraid to go for the lowest-common-denominator. It's especially true of his comedies.

For me, too many American productions just get mired in their own importance. Tied up in the literary aspects, instead of just putting on a good show. Hell, the Shakespeare comedies are filled with asides to the audience that border on stand-up.

This production grabs hold of that element fiercely. The script is edited pretty severely, and the staging and production decisions are all pretty broad. The show wants you to leave feeling entertained, and will go to great lengths to get there.

The show is set in the 80's, with the soldiers under Don Pedro stopping off at Gibraltar on their way back from combat in the Falklands. I found the copious notes in the program about both the 80's and Gibraltar kinda ridiculous. It was plainly clear the time period was chosen because of the amusing costuming possibilities, both during the costume party (Darth Vader, Indy Jones, Werewolf Michael Jackson, and Princess Leia all appear), and the rest of the show. It's a fair choice to make, amusing almost to a fault, but really...trying to say that something organic within the text brought director Josie Rourke to say, "this MUST be set in the 80's!!" is pushing it.

It's a star-casting show. That's just fact. This production likely exists because Tennant and Tate wanted to do it. (Although, I was also amused that in the rehearsal photos in the program, Tennant is nowhere to be found.) The cast, the whole show, is built around these two actors.

Tennant is the more experienced stage actor. I don't think that's any secret, and it shows. The show trades mightily on slapstick (which is more than appropriate within Shakespeare, as far as I'm concerned). There is a sharpness and cleanness to how Tennant executed all of these gags that is just awesomely winning. Act II, Scene 3, where Benedick eavesdrops on Don Pedro, Leonato and Claudio, who feed him false information about Beatrice's love for him, was a showstopping ballet of slapstick. With a rotating stage, buckets of paint (which ends up smeared all over Tennant), and a can of beer with cigarettes in it (oh, ho! SPIT TAKE!!). All while wearing a Superman shirt, less we forget who the MVP here is.

He then whips into the soliloquy that (nearly) ends that scene, and the full-on hambone that we all knew lurked within Tennant erupts. I'd guess the speech played at least twice as long than as written, simply due to David (I'm tired of writing "Tennant") playing the crowd. Oh yeah, he mugged, he pandered for laughs, and generally turned on the charm that's made him beloved by Who fans. Again, I wasn't bothered by this, as it seems to me to be well within the realms of what Shakespeare's comedies are, and playing to the groundlings. I've described the scene to others, who have been horrified at the whole idea. Your mileage may vary.

Not to say that I was completely bowled over by Mr. Tennant. I felt a bit short changed by the moment when Benedict asserts his intention to kill Claudio. (I'm writing this with the belief that most of my readership knows the story of Much Ado About Nothing...if you don't, maybe try here.) The moment fell a bit flat because I just didn't really feel Benedict was all that dangerous. I mean, in my mind, this character works best when his soldier (they all are), can act like such a lout, and be flippant about everything, because he's got nothing to prove. He can become the warrior the moment it's needed. Tennant doesn't quite get there.

Then there's Catherine Tate. Alas, she's just not as comfortable on stage as David. Her timing is impeccable, but I never quite felt her make the connection to the deeper parts of Beatrice. She wasn't bad, or terrible, or anything so apocalyptic. There were moments that worked quite wonderfully, but the entire performance didn't gel in the way Tennant's did. It's really something I chalk up to experience. Tate simply hasn't been on stage as much, and there's no shame in being as good as she is, in the face of that.

There's another slapstick piece for the companion scene with Benedict, with flying harnesses and other shenanigans. It's just not as funny, and even a bit labored. Certainly not as sharply executed, which is really stunning because the Benedict scene is much, much more physically complicated. It also just wasn't as logical, with certain gags just drawing attention to themselves as gags, instead of feeling like an action any rational person would really take.

All that said, the scene where Beatrice and Benedict actually come together and profess (...kinda) their love for each other is pretty cracking. They play off each other so well, how could it not be. And Tate may not hit the bullseye directly, as other performances I've seen, but the moment when she asks him to kill Claudio did land effectively. The scene is very well paced to make the line drop like a bomb.

No one's going to call this a transcendent production of Much Ado About Nothing. It's not a show that's going to take your breath away. (Although it certainly did for the teenage girl two seats down from me, who kept muttering "I love him, I love him" from the moment David Tennant walked on stage.) However, as a fan of both these actors, it was well worth the time and money. It's a highly energized, fast paced, entertaining version of the show. It's lightweight, and, let's be honest, Much Ado is a pretty lightweight show.

London Theatre 2011 - Part 1 - War Horse

Man, it's been a while since my regular blogging, huh? A lot has happened, not the least being a trip to Europe.

Saw three shows this trip, War Horse, Much Ado About Nothing, and Pygmalion. Comparing this run to the other two trips across the pond, it wasn't nearly as good as the Treats/Glass Menagerie/Equus year, but miles beyond the Waiting for Godot/Spring Awakening year.

We saw War Horse on Thursday night. Had to pay full price, as the show's selling so well that the TKTS booth wasn't getting tickets. So, it was a little pricey, but, damn...you get what you pay for.

I've spent a lot of time telling people about this vision of theatre that I've had. I have this idea that we can do big, expansive, epic productions if we simply allow ourselves to have faith in the imagination of our audience. That the money we spend on detailed sets and frippery is, at the end of the day, wasted. We should invest in design, and make it precise, and execute it just as precisely, but that doesn't mean we have to fill the stage with garbage that's only there to look impressive.

I love black box shows, where settings are suggested by a few well-selected set pieces. Lighting and performance encourage the audience to fill in the rest. It's pure theatre, in my mind, but it requires discipline. You have to work and think about what your show is, tear it apart, see what's absolutely necessary, and be brave enough to admit you don't need the rest.

What it does is drive your entire design process, and your choices, away from "what will impress the audience," (or, let's be honest, "the other theatre people who see the show") and to "what do we need to tell this story." If you start there, you can get as grandiose, as creative, as possible, and it won't be extraneous. It'll be a choice about the show, for the show.

I also am a big believer in focusing your script, your concept. Simplify, and not just in terms of action and character, but with emotion. I think we spend far too much fucking time trying to get the audience to think, when we can make our points far more strongly, and effectively, if we just make them feel. If you know what you want the audience to feel, you'll find that more and more of the details are just, frankly, jerking off. as I've said so many times before, theatre is entertainment, not a lecture. You'll reach your audience, interest them, if they can "feel along with" (as Harrison Ford said) the characters.

Once they care, and not on an intellectual, rational level, but in a deep-seated, primal, emotional place, your points? Your deeper mission, and the "high fiber" part of theatre...it's gonna come through. It's gonna be there, and in a way that make the point personal. Your audience will fucking care about it, not because they think they ought to, but because they CARE.

This is all preamble to say that War Horse, in it's amazing glory, embodies everything I'm talking about here. It's probably the best major theatre piece I've ever seen.

Let's start with the design. Everything was functional, bits and pieces that the actors would make solid. Very early in the show, the young foal, Joey, is in a corral, with men standing around the edges as he is auctioned. The corral was there, I saw it, the men leaned on it, and it was just a bunch of sticks the actors were holding in the air. Yet the committed to it, it was a fence, a corral, and we, the audience accept that.

A door against a black area of the stage was a house.  A plow could quickly become part of the battlements. This all happened because the actors believed it, and they asked us to come along. It's so damn simple, and so few people working in this medium get it.

As the show went on, it made such wonderful use of technology I've seen elsewhere, but executed in utterly halfassed ways. Yeah, yeah, my tech instructor in college believed projections were the future of theatre, but a slide projector against a wall is just...nothing. Here we had a huge, jagged screen, mirroring a sheet ripped from a sketchpad in the show, with multiple projections and a true synch with the action of the play.

Then, of course, the puppets.

It's hard to describe how effective the puppetry was.

But again, look at the horses. There's no effort made to make them seem realistic. They are fabric and visible wood framing, the expectation is that the talent on stage, and the imagination in the audience will come together to make them alive.

I have to tell you, within 20 seconds of the foal puppet entering the stage, it sneezed while grazing, and from that moment forward, I was watching living, breathing animals on stage. It was an illusion, but one that, with some effort, and precise execution and design, is within the grasp of any level theatre with a talented, inventive team.

I won't even get into the ravens, the swallows, the Goose (which may be my favorite comedy relief character in any play, ever), or the Tank...

Oh shit...the tank was terrifying, amazing.

Then there's the story. The play is based on, yes, a children's book by Michael Morpurgo. I'm sure some will scoff at such an effort for a silly story about a boy and his horse. Here's what those dullards are missing, however; this play says more, and hits harder, in terms of making you think about what going to war actually means, the why and how that puts the men (and animals) into the middle of truly terrifying battles.

Really, the choice of World War I as the setting here is so excellent. Watching the armies trying to adapt from battles where cavalry were considered unstoppable, to a war that introduced machine guns, tanks, and poison gas, is really heartbreaking.

We wrap all of this in the tale of a boy willing to give his live for that of the horse he had raised. we follow the horse, Joey, the boy, Albert, as well as a German soldier that becomes the caretaker of the animal. Each, in turn dreams of returning home, but not all will make it. It's a tale that is simple enough to enthrall, and true enough to break your heart.

I know I was weeping though much of the show.

It does my heart proud to see this show, now open in New York, as well, and selling out on a regular basis. This is great theatre, and it represents something more than the umpteenth remount of How to Succeed in Business, or the empty calories of The Addams Family, or some other such bullshit. Not only is it great theatre, but I think it's showing us the way to how to reinvent the medium and reach out to not just ourselves, but to the general audience, without selling our souls.

I want to be in a show this good. I want to direct a show this good. If you can see it, do not hesitate.



The video? Doesn't do it justice at all.