Simon Annand’s Time To Act is a beautiful book of photos capturing actors in the minutes before they go on stage
Tackling the constraints of the pandemic in its own way, Simon Annand’s fantastic new book of photos Time To Act has launched a virtual exhibition of some of the photographs which has now been extended to until Christmas. It’s an ingenious way of sharing some of the hundreds of images from the book and should surely whet the appetite for either just buying it now or putting on your list for Santa to collect soon.
Continue reading “Book review: Time To Act – Simon Annand”
I mean, just look at this absolute treasure trove of theatrical talent!
I’m off to listen to Patsy Ferran read Tom Wells, and Gabby Wong read Alexi Kaye Campbell, and Sarah Niles read Winsome Pinnock and…and…
How to respond to a week such as that? Defer to those more fearlessly eloquent, and listen.
Continue reading “Round-up of news and treats and other interesting things”
There’s something perhaps a bit perverse in some of the strongest episodes of new Who emerging from the series which (arguably) had the weakest companion. Freema Agyeman was ill-served by writing that couldn’t let her be a companion in her own right, as opposed to the-one-in-Rose’s-shadow, and consequently never felt entirely comfortable in the TARDIS.
Series 3 has real highs and certain lows – the introduction of Doctor-lite episodes (to ease the production schedules) produced the inventive wonder that was Blink (and further proved Steven Moffat’s genius), the unashamed grab for the heartstrings was perfectly realised in the Human Nature / The Family of Blood double-header, and the re-introduction of one of the Doctor’s most enduring foes was well-judged. That said, we also had the inevitable return of the Daleks who already feel like they’re in danger of over-exposure.
Continue reading “Countdown to new Who: Doctor Who Series 3”
“Certain men just don’t get started ‘til later in life”
To criticise an RSC production of being traditional seems a little bit beside the point, especially under this artistic directorship, but that’s how I felt on leaving this production of Arthur Miller’s Death of a Salesman. It is undoubtedly impressive but it rarely feel inspired, it just doesn’t do enough to convince that the sobriquet “greatest American play of the 20th century” (as Doran labels it in the programme) is well-deserved, especially in the light of such revelatory work being done on one of Miller’s other plays even as we speak.
Antony Sher’s Willy Loman, the American Dreamer who never quite gets there, has been done in by life. Business as a travelling salesman has dried up, his older son has severely disappointed him and ghosts of the past plague his mind so virulently that they seem real. Miller weaves in scenes of the Lomans’ past most ingeniously into Willy’s current day affairs but though Sher gives us all of the abrasiveness of a frustrated would-be patriarch, his performance lacks the psychological intensity to really pull you into his thought processes. Continue reading “Review: Death of a Salesman, Royal Shakespeare Theatre”
“I wasted time, and now doth time waste me”
I am aware that I’m flying in the face of received wisdom here but I really wasn’t a fan of the RSC’s Richard II. The announcement of David Tennant in the leading role ensured its sell-out success (regardless of the actual strength of the production) and its transfer to the Barbican after its initial run in Stratford-upon-Avon likewise proved to be the quickest of sellers. Its critical notices have been close to superlative too, so the level of expectation was certainly high.
But for all of this, I found Gregory Doran’s production to be largely quite dull, it hardly ever provoked excitement or even piqued my interest in the slow-moving telling of its tale of regime change and the corrosive effects of absolute monarchy on the individual. The inferences of a Christ-like demeanour to this King are heavily played and Tennant laps this up, irascible and irritable throughout and increasingly given to thoughts of his own divinity. Intentional perhaps, but hard to like. Continue reading “Review: Richard II, Barbican”
Cush Jumbo, for Rosalind in As You Like It (Royal Exchange Theatre, Manchester)
Damien Molony, for Giovanni in ‘Tis Pity She’s a Whore (West Yorkshire Playhouse)
Jodie McNee, for Masha in Seagull (Arcola Theatre)
Hiran Abeysekera, for Valère in Tartuffe (English Touring Theatre)
Jade Anouka, for Ophelia in Hamlet (Shakespeare’s Globe)
Mark Arends, for Malcolm in Macbeth (Liverpool Everyman)
Sebastian Armesto, for Wendoll in A Woman Killed with Kindness (National Theatre)
John Heffernan, for Richard II in Richard II (Shakespeare at the Tobacco Factory)
Ffion Jolly, for Luciana in The Comedy of Errors (Shakespeare at the Tobacco Factory)
Ben Mansfield, for Sebastian in Twelfth Night (National Theatre)
Sam Marks, for Friar Peter, Froth, and Gentleman 2 in Measure for Measure (Royal Shakespeare Company)
Matthew Needham, for Nero in Britannicus (Wilton’s Music Hall)
Eddie Redmayne, for Richard II in Richard II (Donmar Warehouse)
Lara Rossi, for Myrrha and Macrina in Emperor and Galilean (National Theatre)
Sara Vickers, for Annabella in ‘Tis Pity She’s a Whore (West Yorkshire Playhouse)
“I will put my law in their inward parts, and write it in their hearts”
In perhaps one of the more surprising transfer moves of recent months, the RSC have brought last year’s production of David Edgar’s new play Written on the Heart into the West End to take up residency in the Duchess Theatre. I say surprising because it is a good while since the show ran in Stratford and though it received relatively good notices, they hardly set the world alight. But to town it has come and to be honest with you although it is nice to see a wealth of plays occupying West End houses, I can’t see it lasting very long in the cut-throat theatrical ecology.
Edgar’s play is an almightily verbose work about the creation of the King James Bible. We start with James I’s decision to commission an authorised English Bible nearing its end in 1610 in the midst of endless committees debating the translation of every word. We then move around in time to see William Tynedale reaping the grim consequences of creating his own version in the reign of Henry VIII and also dip into the reign of Elizabeth I during the decatholicisation of many churches, where a young clergyman sees Tyndale’s work for the first time. As we then return to 1610, we see that that young man, Lancelot Andrewes, is now spearheading the Authorised version and recognise the debt that he owes to Tyndale. Continue reading “Review: Written on the Heart, Duchess Theatre”