Friday, 3 December 2010
Broken Glass
19th November 2010
Broken glass is a play about repression. On the surface we are introduced to world where the events of Kristallnacht are playing the protagonist and indeed the catalyst to the dramatic events that affect the lives of all the characters. The frightening destruction of Jewish properties and Synagogues by the Nazi’s, overshadowing and consuming the play. Yet, although it is indeed the events of the Kristallnacht which appear to render Sylvia Gellburg hysterically paralysed (as we learn in the opening of the play), it certainly becomes clear that the real cause of her affliction is masked by these anti-Semitic events. In fact, we discover that it is her husband Philip, his self-repression, and their sexually repressed relationship that resonates so much with Sylvia in the events of the Kristallnacht that she loses the use of her legs. To Sylvia, Philip Gellburg represents a racial fear and hatred, much closer to home than the 3000 mile away events in Germany. Uncomfortable in his own skin, uncomfortable being Jewish, looking Jewish, even having a Jewish name – resolute in his need to be defined by something other than being Jewish, this self-denial of his identity has manifested itself as one who is emotionally and sexually repressed. Not only does Sylvia see the anti-Semitic events of Kristallnacht reflected in her husband’s self-hatred, but in some way, their sexless marriage, which, in Iqbal Khan’s production, has left her feeling humiliated. So in fact – what initially appears as a play based around a historical political event and its effect becomes one which places the magnifying glass firmly on the destructive nature of the personal internal on the external.
There is something of the epic in this production, directed by Khan with an almost Shakespearean quality, Miller’s text has been handled with poetic reverence. This in itself adding to the uneasy atmosphere set up by the solo cello music which open’s each scene, the stark set which draws us to the characters and the terrifying context of anti-Semitism in which the play is set. Khan’s direction absolutely sets up the story of Philip and Sylvia Gellburg as one where the fractures appearing in the relationship between the couple can clearly be introduced to the audience with poignancy and precision, slowly building up to create an explosion of epic proportions like a pane of glass finally shattering in the ending scenes of the play. Antony Sher has completely immersed himself into the role of Philip, and his presentation of a man who is holding in so much internal angst and emotion is truly compelling, and, with so much bubbling beneath the surface throughout the play, Philip’s explosive outburst in the penultimate scene is thrilling to watch and absolutely believable. Likewise Lucy Cohu is brilliant as Sylvia, a woman whose life has slowly eroded away before her, she plays the character with a gentle fragility which has a dangerous edge, always threatening to finally tip her into hysteria, or even madness. Everything simmers below the surface in this production, sexual tensions and unspoken feelings so beautifully pinioned just underneath the action for the audience to really appreciate the feeling of repression so rife within the play. For my part it was wonderful to watch a truly engaging and absorbing theatre that really reflected on the terrifyingly destructive nature of self-loathing, and if nothing else has taught me never to supress a tear or a word without remembering the repercussions of the inability to express one’s feelings.
(p.s I should not like to forget the wonderful performances of Madeleine Potter, Nigel Lindsay, Emily Bruni and Brian Protheroe, a truly captivating and faultless cast, who are all easily worthy of another 600 words)
Sunday, 21 November 2010
My Romantic History
Tuesday, 16 November 2010
Design for Living
The Old Vic
11th October 2010
I can’t pretend to know a great deal about Noel Coward. Beyond a presumption that Cowards plays played with the decadence, flamboyance and frivolity of the roaring twenties and thirties I honestly had no idea what to expect sauntering up to the Old Vic on Monday. Yet, despite, this blatant ignorance I found myself braving a tube strike, delving into my incredibly empty bank account and meeting an old friend to watch, what I have now come to discover as one of Cowards most controversial and in my opinion, revolutionary of plays.
Initially the production played right into my preconceptions, or perhaps idealisations of the era, all the drama, glitz, glamour, ostentation and over exuberant arm gestures that I’d imagined so commonplace within that world and I lapped it up with complete eagerness. Gilda, Otto and Leo, all perfectly played with a vivacious and highly charged energy, drew me into a world of emotional and artistic unrest, lows and highs, and never more such dramatic episodes, arguments and revelations than you would expect from those of a creative nature. The combined wit of the playwright and the players, made for a wonderfully ticklish performance, precise, poised and perfectly placed dialogue punctuated by polite giggles and raucous laughter alike from the audience around me. Yet, for all its zeal and captivating vitality I found myself completely enamoured, not by the glamour of the era or the sumptuous and full flavoured characters but by Cowards exploration of the very nature of love, dependency and what it means to be fulfilled by someone else.
By establishing a relationship which can only function in a 3 way part between Gilda, Otto and Leo, Coward condones and perhaps even encourages us to function, live, learn, love, within our own context, inspiring bravery and individuality from his audience. In fact, he firmly sets down the idea that, when it comes to love, there are no rules (something few, but the brave will openly admit to). Naturally, we only come to accept this when we are presented with characters who we truly believe are only able to function in this manage a trois and, like a song in three parts, Gilda, Otto and Leo are presented in the Old Vic’s production as three parts of a whole, each subtly balancing the other, pacifying, exciting, and loving. As Gilda, Lisa Dillon perfectly plays the personal discontent and strife growing from a feeling of something missing within her relationships with Otto and Leo individually. It is the restlessness created by Lisa Dillon as the unfulfilled Gilda, which in this production presents the threeway relationship, not as a raucous, or depraved sexual romp, but as one which is a fully functioning and loving relationship. For my part, Cowards play and The Old Vic’s production, left me questioning the very nature in which love can exist and wondering if, perhaps in the future I shouldn’t be so quick to judge, anyone…but mostly polygamists. Whoever said "two's company, three's a crowd" hadn't seen Design for Living.
Friday, 10 September 2010
Edinburgh Blues
Another year. Another festival. Another month of debauchery, drinking and shows. The Royal Mile is no doubt still littered by thousands of now redundant flyers, my liver hurts and my eyelids are heavy. But it is of - course as ever, entirely necessary to divulge the details of some wonderful theatre from this year’s Fringe. I'll keep it brief, just like shows at Edinburgh, short and sweet is best.
'Bunny' by Jack Thorne. Nabokov Theatre
Despite the fact that the lead (and only) role of Katie was played by my good friend Rosie Wyatt, this was a show I found myself recommending throughout the festival regardless of my prior connection to the wonderful Miss Wyatt. 'Bunny' was incredibly engaging, dynamic and thought provoking - a piece of theatre which not only caught, and held my attention for a full hour (a feat, for any one women show), but which also left me feeling in some way uneasy, aware, not only of the cultural struggles prevalent in an area like Luton (where half my family grew up), but of the struggles of coming of age - the insecurities, questions and changes which I think in some way all young women face - I certainly found myself able to identify and relate on many levels to Katie. The superb writing, acting and direction combined, created a piece of theatre I completely believed in, witty, subtle, political and completely natural.
Another piece of theatre with friends in, but incredible regardless. Speechless was truly compelling, a dynamic and engaging production which completely drew me into the world of the piece. Mesmerising performances and perfect direction - I was able to completely connect with the internal struggles of each of the characters, giving the production such depth that I felt truly moved by the story. Perhaps because it was based on real events and perhaps not, either way, it was a pleasure to watch. Intensely compelling theatre.
I found the entire production, absolutely captivating and completely arresting. It moved me to tears. It was wonderful to see a piece of theatre which really challenged an audience's pre-conceptions and pushed the boundaries artistically. Both the acting and direction was superb, the characters were played with such raw truth that as an audience member you felt absolutely trapped within their world. Frighteningly brilliant breath taking theatre, the kind whic