Reviews by Loretta Monaco

In the 1987 cult film, Withnail and I, unemployed actor Withnail (Richard E Grant) decries: Bastard asked me to understudy Konstantin in The Seagull. I’m not going to understudy anybody. Especially that pimp. I loathe those Russian plays. Always full of women staring out of windows, whining about ducks going to Moscow.

I, too, hate the languorous morbidity of Anton Chekhov’s characters and his plays. But I have the utmost respect for Brian Friel, a dramatist whose oeuvre situates language as the true protagonist of a theatrical awakening.

What is so wondrously delicious about Afterplay – Friel’s imaginative revisiting of Sonya from Uncle Vanya and Andrey from Three Sisters – is that it requires no previous knowledge of Chekhov, but simply a look into the lives of Sonya and Andrey – older but possibly none the wiser – if they were to meet in 20 years time.

It is a late afternoon in 1920s Russia when Andrey (Rory Keenan) breezes into a Moscow tea-room and recognises Sonya (Mariah Gale) as the woman he spoke to the night before. He seems eager to rekindle their conversation, while she is distracted and less eager to engage. Perhaps it’s because she carries a burden of responsibility as caretaker of a crumbling estate once managed by her beloved Uncle Vanya.

Andrey, although tragically widowed, seems to be living a much more productive life. He is a violinist with a successful orchestra and plays at a noted opera house, or so it seems. He speaks of his sisters, one of whom killed herself after her tragic affair with Vershinin, a reference to Masha in the Three Sisters.

And so, nearly the first half of this one-act play is taken up with a tedious update of how Andrey and Sonya have moved on from the ending Chekhov bestowed upon them in their respective plays – written at the turn of the 20th century and prior to World War I.

What has particular sizzle, however, is Lucy Osborne’s set design and Malcolm Rippeth’s lighting design which more than make up for Afterplay‘s slow start.

Our eyes feast on a geometrically-shaped room with widening angles, reflective ceiling and sloping floor, resplendent in magnificent ceiling-high panels of opulent silver-mirrored glass. Outside the tea-room, a glistening snow flutters and falls in varying levels of intensity throughout the play.

But something is slightly wonky in this illuminating encounter with light, height and angles that encapsulate a run-down café, and soon all becomes apparent as Sonya and Andrey drop the lie of their invented, socially-mobile lives, and tell the truth – while drinking copious amounts of vodka – of their loneliness, failures and unrequited love.

It is as if the character’s themselves refused the yoke of success and civility that Friel cast upon them, and declared their loyalty to Chekhov – cleaving once again to the painful destiny he’d carved out for them nearly a quarter-century ago. And at this juncture, the play, and its masterful director John Haidar, brilliantly shine through.

Review by Loretta Monaco

Andrey and Sonya meet by chance in a Moscow café.
Their dreams have given way to a rather different reality.
When they look in the mirror they don’t recognise themselves.
Together they catch sight of a different future.

This masterful, intricate, funny and touching one-act play by Brian Friel (Translations, Faith Healer, Dancing at Lughnasa) revisits two characters from Anton Chekhov’s Three Sisters and Uncle Vanya.

Mariah Gale plays Sonya alongside Rory Keenan as Andrey in a haunting new production for The Coronet Theatre directed by John Haidar.

Writer – Brian Friel
Director – John Haidar

AFTERPLAY
7 Mar – 4 April 2020
https://www.thecoronettheatre.com/

‘The greatest moral evil is, of course, war‘ (Voltaire, 1694 – 1778).
The 21st Century is proving to be a global playing field of endless military conflict. Beginning with the US/UK-led invasions of Afghanistan in 2001; Iraq in 2003; and the same nations intervening in Libya, 2011; and at different times in Syria, it seems death and destruction only serve to whet the appetite of these misguided transgressors.

Given it is the remit of democratic nations to start and maintain military intervention, what better time for a theatrical retelling of World War I, the global conflict foolishly nicknamed the ‘War to End All Wars’.

Incognito Theatre Company, and its uncanny grasp of historical events, has done just that in revisiting Erich Maria Remarque’s acclaimed 1929 novel, All Quiet on the Western Front, an epic work that continues to be adapted for film (1930, 1979) and in numerous television series transcending the 20th Century.

With its ingenious pluck and poetic physicality, Incognito’s production of All Quiet on the Western Front retells the story of German high-school mates who join the army voluntarily after hearing the stirring tales of adventure, heroism and glory that are gifted to soldiers fighting at the Front for the Fatherland. It’s all lies, of course, but deadly effective.

These teen lads are neither nationalists nor blood-thirsty aggressors and, naively, may think an army enlistment will offer them the opportunity to maintain their beloved high-school camaraderie. They soon find themselves in claustrophobic trenches, infested with rats, dodging sniper bullets and bombs, tired, filthy, hungry and dehumanised.

Although Remarque’s novel focused on one soldier’s predicament, Incognito’s All Quiet on the Western Front gives an equal focus to each of its characters. This may be the natural progression of the physicality and support required between the play’s cast members, which gives potent sway to the concept of physical theatre.

Their treacherous journey from village safety into war-torn territory is conveyed as a body ensemble that slips, falls, separates and regroups in a poetic mix of taut and rapid-jerk body movements. Like a tableau vivant, Incognito’s five-member cast stretch and contort to create knife-sharp impact images; frozen in time but with the power to disrupt consciousness.

Think of the famous photograph of marines raising the flag on Iwo Jima, a freeze-frame of sacrifice, heroism, brotherhood and liberty – and you will have a sense of what this extraordinary troupe of actors is able to accomplish.

If there is one small flaw, it is that the cast – its verbal intonation, physical appearance and attitude to soldiering – is unequivocally British. It is a stretch of the imagination to consider them German schoolboys. But it is true to say that all fighting men must encounter the same disillusionment as do the young German soldiers in the play.

For a theatrical experience with startling images that will linger, don’t miss this play. All Quiet on the Western Front is the most inventive theatre you are likely to see this year.

Review by Loretta Monaco

“We were eighteen years old, and just learning to love the world and being in it, and then we had to shoot it to bits.”

Following an international tour, the multi-award nominated and award-winning Incognito Theatre Company return to VAULT Festival with their critically celebrated adaptation of Erich Remarque’s tale, exposing the harrowing reality of trench warfare.

Told through the eyes of five classmates, this adaptation is gripping and unyielding in its treatment of the visceral brutality of war, an honesty that lends itself to Incognito Theatre’s unapologetically explosive physical style. ‘All Quiet on the Western Front’ focuses on the harsh physical reality of this violent world from the perspective of the German forces, intercut with the vulnerability of human experience. An exploration of raw humanity and the power of brotherhood in the face of total bleakness, Incognito’s ‘All Quiet on the Western Front’ exposes the personal sacrifices that were made for the sake of the Great War.

Cast
Angus Castle-Doughty
George John
Joshua Eldridge-Smith
Daniel Whitlam
Charlie Macvicar

Creatives
Director: Roberta Zuric,
Choreographer: Zac Nemorin
Producer: Hannah Wisher

All Quiet on the Western Front
3 – 8 Mar 2020
https://vaultfestival.com/

The Actors Centre is presenting a Latin American Season comprised of 21 plays authored by Latin American playwrights.

A particular challenging piece is Mexican playwright David Gaitán’s Raskolnikova which attempts to re-work the themes present in Dostoyevsky’s classic novel Crime and Punishment.

It is currently a work in progress with an international cast of five talented actors grappling with the raw stages of combining physical theatre and verbose exchanges to energise the repeated arguments that dominate the piece, such as feelings of superiority and repercussions for our actions.

The characters in Raskolnikova enjoy overly long debates on the rights and privileges bestowed on those who are deemed ordinary in society versus its extraordinary members, who, by the virtue of their extraordinariness may earn the right to commit murder.

Although it is in its development stage, it did appear the cast were more comfortable with speech than with physical movement. This is not to say their inventiveness was not appreciated, especially when exploring the circumstances that influence Raskolnikova (Hana Kelly) – whose name is the title of the play – to commit murder. However, at an hour and a half, and with one intermission, the play is too long.

As it stands, the repeated comparisons between ordinary people vs extraordinary people deplete Raskolnikova’s energy and leave it spinning on itself, robbing it of its theatrical thrust. Stripping out some of the dialogue and running it straight through without an intermission would greatly improve its dramatic impact.

As a re-working of a classic novel, and with a dedicated cast, Raskolnikova shows great promise.

Review by Loretta Monaco

Raskolnikova
At the Actors Centre as part of the John Thaw Initiative
until 05 February
Tickets: £7 (£5 Conc.)
Directed by Fernando Skanassi
Written by David Gaitán
Presented by Teatro Nómada

Cast
Hana Kelly
Zoë Clayton-Kelly
Mariam Khundadze
Jack Tivey
Alessandro Piavani

A gripping re-imagining of a Russian classic
Is murder still an unthinkable crime if committed for the greater good of humanity? Raskolnikova, a young revolutionary suffering in poverty, sets out to answer this moral dilemma. The play sees fragments of her deteriorating psyche embodied by four chorus members. Raskolnikova explores language, culture and morality in a way that brings this classic Russian story into the 21st century.

The cast and crew hail from five different continents – The Americas, Africa, Europe, Asia and Australia, and this rich diversity allows us to explore and develop the play from new and interesting perspectives.

Teatro Nómada has in recent years become an internationally recognised theatre company that aims to bring Latin American theatre to audiences worldwide. Its latest production Juana Inés, recently had an international and European premiere at DespertaLab Festival in Barcelona receiving an ‘International Scenic Creation’ award in 2017.

This would be the European debut of David Gaitan’s Raskolnikova after being produced in México, Singapore and America.

Raskolnikova
presented by Teatro Nómada
3rd – 5th February 2020
https://www.actorscentre.co.uk/

Eugene O’Neill’s epic play, Long Day’s Journey Into Night, is considered one of the all-time great classics of the 20th Century. Echoing Greek tragedy, it is a vicious, unrelenting family drama devoid of grace or forgiveness, in which each of its members – through what they perceive to be an insurmountable circumstance – wallows in self-pity, self-hatred and a need to destroy one another.

It is also a vivid depiction of O’Neill’s own experience growing up inside a family headed by a thespian patriarch and, because of its damning biographical content, he forbid it to be published during his own lifetime. Following his death in 1953, it was first performed in Sweden in 1956 and then on Broadway during the same year, earning huge accolades and a Tony Award for Best Broadway Play of 1956.

So, how does this vicious, three-hour long whining commentary of family interactions stand up after nearly 65 years? Under harsh scrutiny, probably not very well, partly because of its creaking structure, but mostly because it requires a surgical examination of character study that may well be beyond the scope of many actors.

Long Day’s Journey into Night is played out during a single day in the life of the Tyrone family in a seaside Connecticut town in the summer of 1912. The family patriarch, James Tyrone (Francis Abbott), is a highly successful stage actor who has forged a long-term career playing the Count of Monte Cristo, married to Mary Tyrone (Dorothy Duffy), his morphine-addicted wife, who is wrapped in a shroud of bitter memories and recriminations, most of which are levied at her husband James.

Their elder son, Jamie (Luciano Dodero), is a failed actor who enjoys a drink and the ‘company of whores’, while their younger son, Edmund (George Abbott), has recently been diagnosed with consumption, a condition which has cut short his sea-faring venture and forced him back to the family’s summer home. Both brothers share their mother’s disdain for their father, which concerns a deep resentment of the patriarch’s penny pinching approach to money.

The discourse of James Tyrone’s miserliness is a repetitive commentary spoken by each of the characters in every scene of the play which, in the case of Jamie, aged 34, and Edmund, aged 24, raises questions about why they continue to rely on pocket money from ‘the old man’ whom they both despise. We learn of a middle brother, Eugene, who contracted measles and died before Edmund was born.

Mother Mary blames her son Jamie – and her husband James – for Eugene’s death. In the play, she returns again and again to her decision, many years ago, to leave her sons in her mother’s care and to join James Tyrone on the road, travelling from city to city, rather than to remain at home and care for baby Eugene and Jamie who, at the time, is ill with a severe case of measles. While she is gone, and even though Jamie has been warned not to enter his brother’s room, he does so. Little Eugene is infected with measles and succumbs to the ravages of the disease.

To return to the creaking structure of the play, it relies solely on dialogue to further the action of the piece. We are shown little but told everything in a progression of chatty scenes whereby a third character finds an excuse to leave the stage, so that the two remaining characters can reveal what they think about the character who’s just left. Anytime there were three characters present, I found myself waiting for the plot device that would allow the third character to exit.

So, for three hours we listen to each family member deride, degrade and demonize James Tyrone for his niggardly approach to money; he buys second-hand cars; considers electric lights a luxury; shops around for cheap medical care and has opted for a menial cottage when he could afford an opulent summer home for his family. But when we hear mother Mary’s sneering tone as she describes Tyrone’s tragic childhood, we feel compassion for this tight-wad patriarch and little sympathy for Mary and her lay-about sons, although Edmund is the more promising of the two, having returned home only because of illness.

Rather than having compassion, Mary practically sneers when she tells of her husband’s deprived childhood. We learn that James Tyrone was ten-years-old when his father deserted the family and travelled back to Ireland, leaving his mother penniless and with a brood of children to raise on her own.

As the eldest child, James was forced to leave school and work twelve-hour shifts at starvation wages to help his mother feed and clothe his younger siblings. He never forgot the pangs of hunger, nor that the family was always one step from the poorhouse. In comparison, Mary enjoyed a privileged childhood and never wanted for the finer things in life.

Although we wince at the verbal attacks she levies at Tyrone and her son Jamie, we can also empathise with her morphine-fuelled rages as a defence against the unbearable guilt she feels at leaving little Eugene alone to die. Add to this the rivers of whisky imbibed by James Tyrone and his two sons throughout the play and you’ll get an idea of the verbal attacks unleashed by copious amounts of John Barleycorn.

Although the piece is billed as an amateur production, I still wondered if some of the never-ending complaints could be pared back and a few scenes shortened, as the play is literally buried in dialogue, but Director Simon Bartlett may not have wished to tamper with O’Neill’s words.

Finally, the Tyrone family, as well as the audience, is trapped on a merry-go-round, one in which garishly painted wooden horses continue to bob up and down and the music plays on. It’s a tough ride.

Review by Loretta Monaco

Telling of one family and its self-discovery over the course of a long August day in 1912, when James Tyrone, a hugely successful immigrant Irish actor has retreated with his wife and two sons to their Connecticut seaside home.

A Long Day’s Journey into Night by Eugene O’Neill
Directed by:
Saturday 18 to Saturday 25 January 2020
Mary Wallace Theatre
https://www.richmondshakespeare.org.uk/

We are in a state of crisis emergency. Global warming is stealing our future. World leaders should be at the forefront delivering this message, but it’s not the politicians who’ve created a universal platform to ward off this oncoming disaster but a teenage political activist named Greta Thunberg.

However, despite Greta’s efforts to bring the richest and most offending nations on board, today’s newspapers report the United Nations Climate Summit in Madrid has put back talks on global carbon emissions until it meets again in Glasgow next year. (See Metro 16/12/2019: Nations told to wake up in 2020 as climate talks close).

Divisions over the future of carbon markets mean that Greta’s message of panic, doom and gloom is not likely to be heeded anytime soon by nations who stand to lose billions, if not trillions, of dollars worldwide by adopting practices that would cut greenhouse gases.

But a symphony of voices comprised of concerned citizens – your neighbour, workmate or friend – can be just as powerful, and perhaps more effective, in introducing simple changes to our daily routine that could help to ward off a climate crisis.

This Play Will Solve Climate Change approaches the threat of global warming at the personal and community level by presenting the stories of ordinary people, grappling with their hopes, dreams and desires while trying to lower their own carbon footprint. It is a powerful and inventive piece of story telling, involving four women and two children, who speak directly to the audience about their present lives and where they hope to be in 11 years: the child who wants to be a pop star; the grandmother who learns one of her children will remain childless because the earth is no longer a safe place; the Romanian mother who is moving to a mountain top to build a community from nature; the single woman proud of her promotion as an editor of an environmental journal who reflects ‘what’s the point if the world is coming to an end’.

If this sounds as gloomy as Greta Thunberg’s predictions, it’s not. This Play Will Solve Climate Change is also filled with music (Michael Caines, composer) and enchanting moments when plastic bags are punched playfully back and forth accompanied by uplifting melodies, cartwheels and interpretive dance.

Director Laura Baggaley also spins moments of game playing and audience participation throughout the piece, which heightens the importance of community participation and the sense that we must tackle this together.

Finally, we were all given a booklet – comprised of simple daily routines – to make our homes and neighbourhoods more eco-friendly. The commitment of Reusable Theatre Company and the talents of director Baggaley, who created such an entertaining play about hope and the ability of the average person to safeguard the future, ensure the play lives up to its title. Here’s hoping This Play Will Solve Climate Change is played in theatres across the nation.

Review by Loretta Monaco

Funny, challenging, heart-breaking and hopeful, This Play Will Solve Climate Change explores what it is to be human in today’s changing global environment.

This devised piece draws on interviews with a wide range of people – economists, climate activists, religious leaders, teenagers and artists, among others – to examine the impact of climate change on how we feel and how we live.

Reusable Theatre’s multi-generational, international team investigates the climate emergency, asking what can actors do about it? Act?

Cast:
Rosanna Preston
Siobhan Spooner
Ceci Stassi
Anca Vaida
and the 2 children:
Freya Caines
Mina Caines

Director: Laura Baggaley
Stage manager: Alice Catanzaro

THIS PLAY WILL SOLVE CLIMATE CHANGE
Saturday 14th & Sunday 15th December, 7pm
John Lyon’s Theatre, City Lit
1–10 Keeley Street
London WC2B 4BA
https://www.reusabletheatre.com/