It Ain’t Half Fun, Mum!

Simon Russell Beale – “a joy from start to finish.”

Title:                         Privates On Parade

Author:                    Peter Nichols

Director:                  Michael Grandage

Theatre:                   Noel Coward Theatre, St Martin’s Lane

Major Players:        Simon Russell Beale, Joseph Timms, Angus Wright

Out Of Five?            4.5

First produced back in 1977, Privates On Parade makes a welcome return to the West End as the first production of Michael Grandage’s residency at the Noel Coward Theatre.  And it’s set the bar extremely high for the rest of the season.

Set in Malaya in 1946 when the British were fighting the Communist insurgency from China, Peter Nichols’ play with music follows the adventures and growing maturity of Private Flowers (Joseph Timms), a new recruit to a travelling entertainment group led by flamboyant Captain Terri Dennis (Simon Russell Beale).  Initially a wide eyed innocent, Flowers soon comes to learn that there is more to being a man than just wearing a soldier’s uniform.

It must have been strong stuff in its day.  The post-war period would have been within living memory for most, if not all, of the audience and the language from the very outset is what you would expect from its army setting.  Homosexuality had only been legalised for the over 21s some ten years before and being gay was socially unacceptable, so showing a concert troupe comprising mainly gay men – some overtly so, others not – would have been both challenging and brave in the late 70s.

Not so today – which is where the play shows its age.  But it does mean that the cast have the opportunity to delve deeper into the characters and move them away from being mere caricatures.  And it hasn’t lost its authenticity – it’s based on Nichols’ own experience in National Service – and, more interestingly, its relevance.

We learn through letters from the soldiers’ families that people at home aren’t too concerned about what’s happening in Malaya: it’s far away and they have bigger worries, like rationing and re-building the country after the war.  And despite today’s media bringing us closer to current conflicts, our home front is still primarily concerned with domestic issues.  Entertainment for the troops is still as important now as it was in the late 40s, although nowadays we send out big names like David Beckham and Katherine Jenkins to maintain morale.

Despite its more serious themes and some sinister undertones, courtesy of the two native servants who convey menace while hardly moving a facial muscle, Privates On Parade is still a hugely entertaining show.  The audience often doubles as the military audience watching the concert party who, if anything, are sometimes too good!  They sing well, dance elegantly and tell some truly cringe-worthy jokes.

The star turn is, without question, Simon Russell Beale as Terri Dennis, the leader of the concert party.  He is a joy from start to finish and his set pieces – he impersonates Marlene Dietrich, Vera Lynn, Carmen Miranda (all in drag, of course) and Noel Coward – are the highlights of the show.  He revels in the gorgeous costumes and is brilliantly funny.  And his Noel Coward is wonderfully accurate.  He’s as camp as a row of tents, milking all the double entendres for all they’re worth – but there is more to his character than that. He’s caring and understanding, firstly with new recruit Flowers and then his discarded girlfriend.

The other performance of note is Angus Wright as the Major, the nominal commanding officer.  He’s swallowed the propaganda manual whole, repeating it at every opportunity and, with no understanding of the men in his command, he is dangerously ignorant of the situation they are all in.  It’s a well-judged performance, with elements of both Blackadder Goes Forth and more than a hint of John Cleese in his one and only dance routine.

And, while I could have wished for more of a Brummie accent from Corporal Len Bonney (John Marquez) who’s impoverished origins in Smethwick were frequently mentioned, the rest of the troupe all turned in good performances.

In case you’re wondering, Privates On Parade was preceded by It Ain’t ‘Alf Hot Mum which was, by comparison, a much softer version of much the same story.  It’s easy enough to find the TV series on DVD, but revivals of Peter Nichols’ play are much harder to come by, so grab the chance while you can.

This review is now available to download as a podcast at http://www.cyberears.com/index.php/Show/audio/5984

In Keeping With Tradition

While the men around her are drawn into Yelena’s (Anna Friel) web, all she promises is disappointment.

Title:                         Uncle Vanya

Author:                     Anton Chekhov, translated by Christopher Hampton

Director:                   Lindsay Posner

Theatre:                   The Vaudeville, Strand

Major Players:         Ken Stott, Anna Friel, Samuel West

Out of five?              Four

Chekhov isn’t everybody’s cup of tea – or glass of vodka.  He has a reputation for gloom – plays full introspection and sombre characters leading wasted, pointless lives in the never-ending Russian countryside.

But Chekhov himself describes them as comedies.  And if Lindsay Posner’s current production of Uncle Vanya is anything to go by, the term tragi-comic is nearer the mark – with a large splash of farce thrown in.

Vanya (Ken Stott) manages a country estate on behalf of his brother in law who, together with his younger, beautiful second wife, Yelena (Anna Friel), has come to stay and has disrupted the household at every level.  Vanya is in love with Yelena, but there is a mutual attraction between her and local doctor Astrov (Samuel West).  And, although he doesn’t know it, Astrov is adored by Vanya’s niece, Sonya (Laura Carmichael).  Something has to give …………..

The humour was both on show and appreciated by the audience at The Vaudeville Theatre.  It’s not necessarily of the laugh-out-loud kind, but more ironic, underlining the frailties of the characters and producing wry smiles.  The descent into farce – and a moment of madness – comes when Vanya tries to shoot his brother in law and fails.  Twice.  It’s funny, but in the Fawlty Towers way: this is a man on the edge who feels he has little to lose, so you laugh and wince at the same time.

Ken Stott is convincing as Vanya, a man gone to waste by middle age – he keeps reminding us that he’s 53 – and is full of frustration at both his circumstances and his unrequited love.  As Yelena, Anna Friel looks stunning, especially against the drab surroundings, but there is more to her than that.  For much of the first act of the play, she sways aimlessly on a swing underneath a spider’s web of a parasol.  This tells you nearly all you need to know about her.  But, while she clearly enjoys holding men in her thrall, we discover that, not only does she know herself all too well, but she doesn’t like herself much either.

Local doctor Astrov (Samuel West) is a startlingly modern character, with his ideals and concerns about de-forestation.  He’s worn out by the demands of his work but he can’t handle emotions – his feelings for Yelena or the feelings Sonya has for him.

Downton’s Laura Carmichael is well cast as Sonya – caring, compassionate and long-suffering – although there were times when she sounded as if she was trying too hard to project her voice.  The final speech of the play falls to her and she delivers it with exactly the right balance of hope and despair.

The producers of Uncle Vanya have chosen the perfect venue in the Vaudeville Theatre.  Small, intimate spaces, such as studio theatres, intensify emotions, be they spoken or silent – and that’s just what you need for Chekhov.  The Vaudeville is actually a traditional proscenium arch theatre, but is small enough to make every single member of the audience feel involved in the story unfolding before them.

Why then, despite a smaller stage and what appeared to be quite straightforward staging, did the scenery changes between each act take so long?  For me, they interrupted the flow and rhythm of the production and fought against the intimacy created by the venue.

London hasn’t been short of productions of Uncle Vanya this year: a new, radical interpretation from Russia has just finished at the Noel Coward Theatre.  Lindsay Posner’s production is more traditional – it comes complete with samovars – and respectful.  And it says much for the London theatre and its audiences that there is plenty of room for both.

An Epic Journey – But Worth It

Looking into the abyss: Laurie Metcalf as Mary and David Suchet as James Tyrone.

Title:                       Long Day’s Journey Into Night

Author:                     Eugene O’Neill

Director:                   Anthony Page

Theatre:                   The Apollo, Shaftesbury Avenue

Major players:           David Suchet, Laurie Metcalf

Out of five?               4.5

Eugene O’Neill completed Long Day’s Journey Into Night, one of his last plays, in the spring of 1941 – but it didn’t find its way onto the stage until 15 years later.  It’s such a personal project that it’s not difficult to understand why.

It follows a pivotal-day-in-the-life of the Tyrones, based on O’Neill’s own family, starting just after breakfast and ending at around midnight.  At the outset they look like any other family, the usual mixture of affection and bickering, but there’s an indefinable edginess and the clues are planted early as to why this is a landmark day.  By the end, the worst fears of James Tyrone Snr (David Suchet) have all come home to roost and the future the family appeared to have that morning has all but disintegrated.

A strong sense of failure runs through the three hour production.  Tyrone was a successful actor: initially performing Shakespeare, he made his name and fortune in more popular dramas, but feels he ‘sold out’ and never achieved his true, Shakespearean, ambition.  His beloved wife Mary (Laurie Metcalf) hated theatre life but followed her husband from city to city, never making any friends and finding consolation of sorts in morphene.  Elder son Jamie (Trevor White) is an alcoholic, failed actor who has never emerged from his father’s shadow and younger Edmund (Kyle Soller) is a struggling writer full of trepidation about his future.

All their frustrations come to the fore during the day, their tongues are loosened and emotions laid bare fuelled by whisky or, in Mary’s case, morphene.

This isn’t an easy ride: watching the family tear itself to shreds is painful, to say the least.  Director Anthony Page has assembled a tight, excellent cast and all five of them really deliver. David Suchet is superb as Tyrone: tight-fisted yet gullible, frustrated by his career and disappointed by his children yet capable of genuine tenderness.  He switches from bonhomie to spiteful anger in the twinkling of an eye, bringing subtlety to a role that would be easy to over-cook.  Laurie Metcalf is equally impressive as his wife.  Frail at the outset, by the end she is a ghost of her former self and divorced from any form of reality or hope.

Trevor White and Kyle Soller more than hold their own as the two sons, James harbouring a simmering resentment for his younger brother and Edmund, diagnosed with TB and fearful of what the state sanatorium may hold: his miserly father is reluctant to pay more for his treatment.

It’s not a flawless play, but this is certainly a flawless production, with wonderful acting and a set that looks so realistic that you hardly notice it.  Anthony Page’s production of this infrequently produced classic has had plenty of praise heaped upon it since it opened in the West End in April – and I’m not going to disagree!

Long Day’s Journey Into Night runs until 18 August at the Apollo Theatre, Shaftesbury Avenue.  For more information and to book tickets, go to www.nimaxtheatres.com.

A podcast version of this review is now available to download at: http://www.cyberears.com/index.php/Show/audio/5984

Note-Perfect Ladykillers

The innocent Mrs Wilberforce (Marcia Warren) has her home turned into a den of thieves in The Ladykillers

Title:                The Ladykillers

Author:              Graham Linehan

Director:            Sean Foley

Theatre:             The Gielgud, Shaftesbury Avenue

Major players:     Peter Capaldi, Marcia Warren, Ben Miller

Out of five?        5

Adapting a much-loved classic needs the skill of a tightrope walker: the new version needs to balance enough familiarity from the original to please the fans with equal amounts of invention to grab the new audience and give the production a life of its own.  Judging from his adaptation of The Ladykillers, writer Graham Linehan must have been taking circus lessons for years!

The plot from the original Ealing comedy remains more or less intact.  Posing as amateur musicians, ‘Professor’ Marcus (Peter Capaldi) and his gang of crooks rent a room from sweet little old Mrs Wilberforce (Marcia Warren).  While pretending to rehearse, they are planning a robbery which goes according to plan – until Mrs W rumbles them.  Somehow they need to dispose of her and escape with the loot ……..

Linehan, together with director Sean Foley (the brains behind the Morecambe and Wise-inspired The Play What I Wrote) have produced a glorious, affectionate re-working of this quintessential English black comedy.  Great one liners are mixed with running gags and energetic physical comedy, all of which are delivered at a pace that makes the laughter almost continuous, leaving just enough time to draw breath in between.  There’s farce, there’s camp comedy and, most importantly, there’s a perfect blend of the light and dark humour that lies at the heart of the play.

Michael Taylor’s stunning, revolving set is the show’s non-speaking character.  Reminiscent of Stephen Daldry’s award-winning An Inspector Calls, it conjures up the outside of Mrs Wilberforce’s house, its interior, its roof, as well as a nearby railway tunnel but, best of all, it plays a pivotal role in the brilliantly inventive execution of the van robbery.  I won’t describe it in detail in case you decide to see it, but I will say it involves model cars …..

There is one other character I should mention – General Gordon, Mrs W’s beloved parrot.  We never actually see him: he suffers from a skin disease that means he can’t tolerate daylight, so his cage is permanently covered.  But we’re in no doubt that his appearance is monstrous and his comments on the action are suitably apt and slightly fruity.  All of which creates an image of a reincarnation of Father Jack, from Linehan’s timeless Father Ted.

The cast play their roles up to the hilt, from Peter Capaldi’s slimy and sinister ‘Professor’ Marcus and Marcia Warren’s Mrs Wilberforce, the epitome of a twittering old dear, to James Fleet’s con-man with a taste for ladies’ dresses and Ben Miller’s paranoid Eastern European gangster.  Stephen Wight’s pill-popping teddy boy takes the brunt of most of the physical comedy, thanks to frequent run-ins with a revolving blackboard, and Mrs Wilberforce’s friends, who pay a visit at the end of the first half, are in a league of their own:  half of them are men in drag (not that Mrs W would have noticed!) and they bring with them a note of hilarious camp comedy.

When this production was first announced, some voices questioned the wisdom of turning classic movies into stage plays.  I can only hope they’ve eaten and digested their words by now.  This may not be pure Ealing, but it is a superbly funny comedy packed with invention that deserves to take up a more permanent residence in the West End.

Sheen’s Prince Reigns Supreme

Michael Sheen's Hamlet is "truly brilliant".

Title:                      Hamlet

Author:                   William Shakespeare

Director:                 Ian Rickson

Theatre:                  The Young Vic, Waterloo

Major players:          Michael Sheen, Vinette Robinson

Out of five?              4.5

Shakespeare’s Hamlet was first performed in the early 1600s and, since then, the Danish Prince has found himself in a staggering variety of settings and time zones on both stage and screen.  The RSC’s 2008 production with David Tennant was set in a modern, dark castle while in 2000 a film version starring Ethan Hawke as the Prince took place within The Denmark Corporation of Manhattan.

Director Ian Rickson sets his interpretation at The Young Vic in the Denmark Mental Institution and, to heighten the experience, the audience is asked to arrive half an hour before the start of the performance for “the pre-show journey”.  It’s a regimented “tour” of the establishment, putting on show, among other things, the recreational facilities and chapel.  But it’s an unsettling visit: half way round, one of the members of staff is sat writing closely-guarded notes, presumably about the audience (you discover later that he’s Polonius, the company man).  And throughout the journey, a recorded voice requests that all electronic equipment is turned off as it could interfere with treatments.  What, you find yourself wondering, must those treatments be?

Once the tour is over, the audience has to walk across the stage before taking its seats for some more surprises.  Along with its contemporary and challenging setting, the production has female actors in two roles that are usually considered male – Horatio and Rosencrantz – and neither feel out of place.  Towards the end of the play, Hayley Carmichael’s loyal Horatio looks so worn down by events that you don’t blame her for wanting to slurp the poisoned wine.

And Rickson has more tricks up his sleeve that produce some superb theatre.  Michael Sheen is not only cast as Hamlet, but also as the ghost of Hamlet’s father, which makes a wonderful revelatory moment.  And, at the very end, in another revelatory stunner, Fortinbras is also played by Sheen, leaving you with the distinct feeling that, despite all the blood letting, the whole nightmare is about to start all over again.

With its setting and mental illness theme, comparisons with One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest are inevitable but, although one or two scenes, such as when Hamlet is force-fed medication, are reminiscent of the film, such an analogy doesn’t hold water.  And while the interpretation works well in the main, there is one glaring inconsistency: if, as is implied, only Hamlet can see and hear the ghost of his father because it’s all part of his own madness – schizophrenia, even – how is it that the characters at the start of the play also see the ghost?

The stark institutional staging, complete with sirens and flashing lights, is remarkably flexible and creates some excellent  moments, including Claudius’ supposed private words in his office being broadcast over the loudspeaker.  The production also benefits from the intimacy of The Young Vic: the seating is almost in the round so that, having been absorbed into the institution through the tour, the audience feels – and is – close to the action.

This is such a good piece of ensemble acting that it’s almost unfair to single out individual performances, but it’s Michael Sheen’s play and he is truly brilliant.  As his moods swing from wild energy to grief to contemplation, sometimes in the blink of an eye, he is never less than compelling and convincing.  I may never see a better Hamlet.  James Clyde gives Claudius a Pierce Brosnan/Bryan Ferry smoothness, manipulating and controlling everybody, especially the gullible Gertrude through the drugs she desperately craves.  And Vinette Williams’ fragile Ophelia descends into a literally pathetic and moving madness after the death of her father.

Hamlet only has a few more weeks to run, with its final performance on 21 January, so you might be able to get your hands on a ticket.  Be warned, however: they are in very short supply and The Young Vic website advises you call the box office to check availability.  All I can suggest is that you make that call – and soon!

He Has Ways Of Making You Laugh!

Germany's Comedy Ambassador, Henning Wehn

Title:                Henning Wehn’s Christmas Do

Venue:              Leicester Square Theatre, London

Dates:              Final performance on Sunday, 18 December

Out of five?       4

I make no apology for the heading.  It won’t be the first – or last – time that it’s used in a review of Henning Wehn’s stand-up act but what makes it so appropriate is that it’s a stereotype.  And that’s his stock in trade: it doesn’t matter what country he’s talking about, be it Australia, the States or Greece, they are all ridiculed equally.  However, Henning devotes much of his time to the German stereotype, as created by the Brits – and, of course, us Brits!  He spends less time on us because, as he’s quick to point out, the Germans don’t spend time worrying about us – we’re not important enough!

The self-styled German Comedy Ambassador to this country has come to the fore over the past few years, thanks to appearances on Radio Four’s The Unbelieveable Truth and BBC TV’s QI.  His accent is still decidedly German, but it floats in and out of mockney, interspersed with the occasional “innit” for good measure.  But there’s no doubting both his command of the language and his understanding of our humour – and to have built a career on performing stand-up in English in front of a British audience is genuinely impressive!

His Christmas Do at the Leicester Square Theatre wasn’t confined to stand-up.  The audience was encouraged – sorry, obliged! – to sing seasonal German carols, in German, while accompanied by a “European technocrat” by the name of Gunter Braun, on keyboards.  I think we made a decent job of it, although the presence of another German in the audience was decidedly helpful!

The comedy flowed thick and fast and I won’t spoil the gags by trying to recount them.  But if you manage to go, his recollections of German bierfests in Scotland, and the obligatory oom-pah band playing at them, were glorious.  Apparently, The Herr Flicks – who are, in fact, three Geordies –  are well-known on the British oom-pah circuit (sadly, their fame has yet to spread to Google.)  And he couldn’t let the afternoon pass without getting on to his favourite subject – how to save the Greek economy.  According to Henning, it’s very simple.  Instead of going to Greece for your holidays, go to Germany – because the people there pay their taxes and the government then gives it all to Greece!

There’s one more performance of the show to come, next Sunday, 18 December.  According to theatre’s website, it’s sold out, but it might be worth calling the box office, just in case.  And if you do go, you’ll be greeted by the man himself handing out crib sheets for the carols.  How many shows have you been to where the star is also front of house?  I couldn’t resist asking him if he had a doppelganger in Surrey as my opticians is called Henning and Henning (no word of a lie – both about the opticians and asking him!)  He thought that was amazing and added “And I haven’t made a single penny of profit from it!”

The Return Of Juno

Juno (Sinead Cusack) despairs of her workshy husband, Jack (Ciaran Hinds)

Title:                  Juno And The Paycock

Author:               Sean O’Casey

Director:             Howard Davies

Theatre:              Lyttleton, National Theatre, Southbank

Major players:      Ciaran Hinds, Sinead Cusack

Out of five?         4

Irish dramatist Sean O’Casey made his name in the 1920s with a trio of plays set in Dublin tenements during the Easter rising of 1916.  The Shadow Of A Gunman, Juno And The Paycock and The Plough And The Stars all premiered at Dublin’s Abbey Theatre, but they are infrequently performed in the UK, despite having found their way onto the A Level English syllabus.

Perhaps it’s a sign of the times that the National Theatre and the Abbey have got together for a co-production of the best of the three – Juno And The Paycock – currently playing in the Lyttleton.  Juno Boyle (Sinead Cusack) despairs of her loveable waster of a husband, Jack (Ciaran Hinds) but somehow keeps the family together on a shoestring.  And, while their tenement room, and Jack’s dreams, shield them artificially from the violence of the outside world, son Johnny’s (Ronan Raftery) visible wounds of his involvement in the uprising mean it’s never far away.  Tragedy initially strikes at arms’ length, with the murder of a neighbour’s son, but when it arrives at the Boyle’s doorstep, Juno has to decide where her loyalties lie.

The play has two great strengths: terrific central characters (Juno, Jack and his drinking buddy, Joxer) and its sense of the tragi-comic, juxstaposing scenes of high comedy with deep tragedy, as exemplified in the final two scenes. Firstly we see a shattered Juno coming to terms with the reality of the triple blow dealt to her family and leaving for good.  Then Jack and Joxer, both roaring drunk, stumble into the empty room, completely oblivious of what has taken place.  At this point, Jack’s charm dries up: we no longer laugh at him, but see him for what he really is.

Director Howard Davies is well served by his three main players, particularly Ciaran Hinds as Captain Jack, a workshy drunk who lives in a fantasy world and cannot face reality, even when it stares him in the face.  He’s well matched by Risteard Cooper as Joxer Daly, a chancer and scrounger with a decidedly sinister undertone.  Sinead Cusack’s Juno was a touch too shrill during the first half of the performance, but she came into her own during the second, darker half of the play and her plea to the Virgin Mary, using the exact words of her grieving neighbour, was heartbreaking.

I do wonder if the Lyttleton was the right venue.  Juno And The Paycock takes place in one room: we never see the outside world – the closest we come to it is a visit from a pair of what are described as “irregulars” – so it is, essentially, an intimate portrait of tenement life.  The stage is so huge, the cast were dwarfed and I found myself wishing for a smaller theatre, reinforcing the feeling of being protected from the outside world.  At the same time, the set design seemed to forget that the family lived in real poverty, at times looking more shabby chic than the downright shabby it needed to be.

Nonetheless, this is a welcome revival of a play – and playwright – too long absent from the British stage.  O’Casey’s later works never quite lived up to Juno and its two companion pieces, so if you go to this production, you’re probably seeing his work at its best.