Theatrical Diversion

For me, theatre is a constant source of diversity and this week has been no exception. I’ve seen a new adaptation of an old 1970s made-for-television movie and a touring production of a classic 1990s play that became an international hit as a movie. I caught the revival of a 1990s devised musical based on the songs of Louis Jordan and a new production of a play based on a 1990s best seller. I’ve also seen two completely new pieces of work and it was one of these that really caught my attention. 

And The Rest Of Me Floats features a cast of trans/non-binary/gay performers addressing how we categorise gender. It was a beautiful piece of devised theatre and definitely worth a look for anyone hanging around Hackney with just over an hour to kill. 

The thing is, that for all that I read about the lack of diversity in theatre, it’s fantastic that you can have a week like this. Jack Rosenthal’s The Knowledge at the Charing Cross featured an understandably Jewish sensibility, as does Driving Miss Daisy. I have to say however that the overarching theme of ‘Daisy’ wasn’t so much anti-semitism or racism as much as it was about the process of ageing. Five Guys Named Moe opened at a pop-up theatre in Marble Arch and features an all-black cast in a hugely entertaining music and dance show and Above The Stag staged arguably Australia’s biggest love story Holding The Man. Oh, I almost forgot Deadpan’s play about the afterlife called Gate.

Gays, Jews, the Dead, Trans, Blacks, Australians - my theatre is awash with diversity and that’s a huge reason to celebrate. Of course, the pantomime season will be along soon, and that usually alters the balance - but things are changing. 

Follies

I managed to get a ticket to the National Theatre's production of Follies and was a little nervous about what I would make of the show. I have always made it perfectly clear that while I like some of Sondheim's work, I am not a wholly devoted fan. I came to Follies pretty late in life and the first production I saw didn't impress. I wondered at the time if it was the show that I didn't like or simply that production?

The show does contain some of Sondheim's greatest stand-alone songs including I'm Still Here and Broadway Baby but having caught the National's production, I will stick my neck out and say that I am still not a fan. Also, I feel that the National have done a good job, rather than a great one. The decision to run straight through for 2 hours 30mins is questionable and it has nothing to do with being desperate for a pee, although I realise this must be an issue with some people.

I was so thankful for Who's That Woman?, a big production number in the first 'half', because by then, I was completely over the story of those two unlikeable business men and their ex-chorine wives. I found myself far more engrossed in watching their younger selves emote around the stage.

I rather like Tracie Bennett as Carlotta but the Loveland sequence at the end dragged the show out a good 20 minutes longer than it should and the anthem Loosing My Mind, appearing so detached from the story, ultimately fails to move me. I can't help but feel that this final sequence serves the writer much more than it serves the audience.

I've been fairly ambivalent toward Janie Dee in the past, but I think she steals this show as Phyllis from right under the nose of Imelda's mad Sal. The set is a triumph and the 1970s and Ghostly Girl costumes excellent but don't get me started on the poster. Originally Follies won seven Tony awards and lost money. It's changed shape a few times over the years including the insertion of an interval but from my point of view it's an over inflated work, padded out with some strong production numbers.

Time Is Money

In the last year, the trend for event theatre seems to have taken a foothold. By event theatre, I mean the epic four to six hour drama that may or may not appear in two parts. Harry Potter and Angels In America come to mind but there's also the Roman plays at the Barbican and several other pieces that will not only take a chunk out of your purse but also out of your weekend. It's not a fashion I warm to particularly and in many ways, it's just as elitist as hoiking the price of the tickets up to £130+ a piece.

I probably spend more time in a theatre in a month that many people will spend there in a lifetime. I am extremely grateful for this luxury but who except ardent fans and theatre critics have time to spend a day in a theatre? I work five days a week and will often be at a theatre in the evening. Two days off will mean catching up with feature writing, conducting interviews and, well, living....

One of the joys of being privileged enough to spend time at the Edinburgh Fringe is that you will invariably see shows that have a running time of no longer the 90 minutes. Most of them are an hour long but part of the joy is experiencing tightly crafted pieces that work within that kind of time frame.   Edinburgh is not exempt however, as The Divide runs at about six or seven hours and despite being written by the estimable Alan Ayckbourn, turns out to be a pretty ropey affair that could probably have been successfully edited to an hour. It is transferring to the Old Vic and God only knows how they're going to sell it on the back of such 'mixed' reviews. 

By all accounts, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child and Angels In America are both fine pieces of theatre although in truth, I was far more sorry to have missed the Roman plays. My point is however, that for most people time will be far more valuable than sterling. Keeping the prices low may open the theatre up to more people but asking them to stay for the day just assumes that they are part of the leisured classes. 

The Dark Stone

At face value, The Dark Stone by Alberto Conejero imagines the relationship between a tortured prisoner of war and his young guard. What raises the dramatic stakes is that the prisoner is Rafael Rodriguez Rapun, the inspiration behind Lorca’s Sonnets of Dark Love and as he faces almost certain execution he must charge his guard with the safe-keeping of a selection of Lorca’s poetry.

This tightly knotted two-hand play takes a little while to draw us in but succeeds less on the characters and more on the situation. Rafael's passion for Lorca and his work leaps from the text but there is more to the guard Sebastian than a mindless soldier. Conejero explores his story first. How as a child, the Fascists killed Sebastian's family and brainwashed him into joining them during the Spanish Civil War. Sebastian spends as much time protecting Rafael in prison as he does guarding him, well aware of how cruel his masters can be. He understands that Rafael is doomed but he has to decide why and how he can help him.

 

This is an intense play and the chemistry between Santiago Del Fosco as the melancholy Sebastian and Jaime Menendez as Rafael binds it together securely. Fosco captures that lost innocence of a child forced into a uniform, proud of his gun but instinctively cautious of its power. Rafael is a more complex character, used to hiding and unsure who he can wholly trust. Bereft of all hope he must develop some sort of relationship with Sebastian, or be forgotten by history. He needs to go to the grave with at least an idea that someone will know who he was. Menendez's is a wholly absorbing performance, honest and ultimately heartbreaking.

 

Sergio Maggiolo's understated direction is complemented by a simple yet immaculate design, using the thrust stage of the Cervantes to its best advantage.