La Lettre - Milo Rau @ Avignon Festival

If you had told me that the first play I saw at Avignon Festival would be interactive, or in French, or a critical view of bourgeois productions of The Seagull and Jeanne D’Arc….I would have believed you. If you had also told me that production would be in a recreation centre in a tiny village 30 mins by bus up the hill from Avignon, where there are no busses back after 8pm….that I may not have believed. Much less that this would be where I would see a fresh new Milo Rau production.

Each year, the festival commissions an artist to create a work that has specific restrictions; it must be performable in French or German, have no more than 2 actors, and must be able to be performed anywhere, and with minimal set. These productions tour following the festival each year.

Milo Rau’s La Lettre was this year’s offering. Starting from the premise of an actor receiving a letter from a relative, and subsequently diving into themes of imagination, dreams, expectations, and the struggle of an artistic life, the two performers were captivating throughout. Indeed, while the play explored huge themes, nothing really happened. In the best way possible. Reckoning with these themes, in the shadow of these two huge plays and the expectations that come with them, the production was wildly simple in its execution. The audience were less auditors than full fledged participants — not least through literally giving printed text and props to some members, including one who acted like a ringside model at a boxing match, carrying titles across the stage in a delightfully self referential titling that Brecht would have been proud of.

We were always aware it was a play. That plays are weird and strange. That sitting in the dark watching people pretend is odd. And yet while it was a critique of theatre, La Lettre was also a love letter to theatre itself. To imagination and playfulness, and not taking ourselves too seriously.

Mamuka @ Off Avignon Festival

Mamuka is a magical dance piece for children, performed by two dancers. The piece employs puppetry and papier mache headpieces to support the dancers in creating various movements of different woodland creatures, all centred around mythical fairies.

The choreography was captivating; the young people in the audience (as well as us older people) were drawn into the world created by the dancers and their headpieces, with their physical vocabulary adjusting to create multiple layers of this world.

What was truly enjoyable was that the movement vocabulary wasn’t simplified for children; it used complex imagery and technique based in modern dance, which elevated the performance.

Romeo & Juliet @ Shakespeare's Globe

I love when an interpretation brings new light to a text, so was excited to see Sean Holmes’ Romeo & Juliet at The Globe, set as a Western. The blustering, warring families are perfectly placed, and the American imagery this conjurs brings an interestingly modern layer (after all, America today is divided more than Verona ever was).

The cast are generally quite good (although I can’t say I loved the interpretation of Benvolio) — and the two young lovers bring an intelligent and thoughtful take on the characters. Indeed both brought a playful quality one can only have when there is a true and deep understanding of the text — so bravo to these young performers.

There were some fun inventive directorial decisions, in particular using the yard to great effect — however in the final act there were some unnecessarily awkward choices, bringing dead characters back on stage seemingly as ghosts? Indeed the otherwise clever interpretation was undermined by these unusual (and not textually founded) choices.

Nonetheless, the production is worth seeing.

Sing Street - Enda Walsh @Lyric Hammersmith

Note - I saw this in early previews.

The joy in this production is infectious, fuelled by the brilliant young cast, many of whom are making their professional debuts with this production. Built around the same story as the film, Enda Walsh’s adaptation really amps up the energy. There are a few new songs introduced, the best of which are those created for the older brother.

In previews, the production dazzled; the design choices were strong, using the minimalist set and loads of projection to create the space that could alternately be the house, the school, and transform into a concert space as the kids began to feel like rockstars. The pacing in previews was my only real quibble; there is a clear moment of transformation in the script when the band forms. The direction, shape, energy all change — however this shift wasn’t clear enough. It was as if they began too high-energy for that transition and the magic of the band to have its potential impact.

I’m very curious to see if (when?) this transfers and how it evolves.

Hercules @ Theatre Royal Drury Lane

I have been excited for this to be a musical since it was a film, well before any development of this production began. So unsurprisingly, this was an absolutely delightful evening; what really worked about the production was the centering of the muses in the story, giving them plenty to do (and honestly, making them the core of the story), and shaping the entire animation-styled world around them. While Hercules and Meg were okay, and Hades squeezes every inch of humour of of the writing, this show was about the muses — and we have no issues with that.

The new songs are alright, and add some needed texture to the production — however what really doesn’t work is the book. Which is honestly unfortunate, but if we’re being honest, who expects a solid book when going to a Disney musical? it isn’t what we’re there for. What we ARE there for is Casey Nicholaw and Tanisha Scott’s stunning choreography replete with contemporary pop-culture references appropriate to the characters. Give them the awards now.

I highly recommend this production for a gleeful, mindless night out. Don’t think so hard, just smile and enjoy.

Alice in Wonderland @ Royal Opera House

I first saw Wheeldon’s Alice in Wonderland in 2012, when it was relatively fresh, so was excited at the opportunity to see it again, both as the ballet aged, and as Wheeldon continues to tinker with it. I can’t claim to remember the 2012 production verbatim, however there were nuanced changes — or at minimum it felt fresh with a new, largely young cast. The night we saw it there were a considerable number of young performer taking major roles, including our Alice — whose youth and sparkle were apparent, this is a star in the making.

What i really appreciated, however, was that despite being over 10 years old, it did not seem to have aged in the way that many contemporary ballets do — it still felt as relevant and playful, as delightful and as challenging as it did 13 years ago. The true sign of a classic, getting better as it ages.

The Frogs @ Southwark Playhouse

Sondheim’s adaptation of Aristophanes’ comedy is an interesting one, injecting musical theatre and its many tropes into the ancient Greek comedy. Flush with a little self referential star-casting (Glee’s Kevin McHale) the jokes are updated, and the interpretation silly and fun. That said, it struggles to sparkle; the clunkiness of the material betrays the cleverness of the choreography and the earnest performances. You can see some of the ideas that will turn up (far more successfully) in later Sondheim works, however in The Frogs they are still being incubated.

Overall a fun night, but nothing that will stick with you over the years.

Operation Mincemeat @ The Fortune Theatre

Operation Mincemeat is absurdly funny. Starting from the premise of a very serious set of events — the allied effort to divert Nazi forces so they have a chance at landing in Sicily and turning the tides of WW2, some wildly clever satire, steeped with commentary on everything from classism to gender politics, the script is punch for punch an absolute joy.

It is well choreographed, well performed, and superbly directed. The willingness to shock the audience is high, and every moment earned (and enjoyed, both by performer and audience). I’ll not give away any spoilers, but just to say that gender swapping is used to underscore the satire expertly.

It is rare that I wholeheartedly recommend a musical. I fully recommend this one.

Matthew Bourne's The Midnight Bell @ Sadlers Wells Theatre

Full of Jazz era tales of love and connection across a lonely city, Matthew Bourne’s The Midnight Bell is a magnetic and captivating new work. Using Jazz standards lip synched by the dancers interlaced through the production to create narrative as well as commentary, the choreography moves through place and time with a heavy theatricality. The same spaces are used in an overlapping manner (reminiscent of the way Complicite use space) to great effect, creating a sense of togetherness in the loneliness the characters exude.

Beyond the choreography which was stunning, the use of the physical space, indeed transforming our perspective so that we see the same room from multiple angles, and the same activities which were hidden revealed. It is a truly stunning manipulation of perspective to create story of what is hidden, private, versus what is revealed.

Medea @ Coronet Theatre

I have read about Satoshi Miyagi’s work for some time now, so the opportunity to see his interpretation of Medea leapt at me. Framing the production in Meiji Japan, during Westernisation, was a powerful choice — but more importantly, positioning this story of a wronged woman seeking her revenge through only male voices, with the women becoming almost puppets, literal objects chosen and manipulated by the men, was brilliant.

The combination of movement, sound, music, and set was at times overwhelming and difficult to focus on, while at others utterly silent. The movement between these states incredibly intentional and specific. There was much to look at, and subtexts through physicality to help us see Miyagi’s commentary on the world it was representing layered and full of texture.

All of this together created some of the most stunning moments i have experienced in the theatre. In particular, the crux of the tragedy, when Medea is ready to kill her son, in pure, breakthtaking silence was suffocating in the most beautiful way. In short, Miyagi’s ability to play with the experience of time through sound and movement was absolutely masterful. See his work if you can.

Giant @ Harold Pinter Theatre

It is unusual to see an “issue play” that feels as though it properly explores all angles and points of view through its characters,. Giant is such a play, exploring the real historical moment when cherished children’s author Roald Dahl spoke out against Israeli aggression in Palestine, and received backlash. The script has a lot going on, and perhaps some elements of character and even setting I struggled to understand why they were chosen; the gardener for example, served little purpose other than to give the protagonist another older man to align himself with.

What was truly outstanding here was not the play, however, but John Lithgow’s performance. Nuanced and funny, while still being powerful and at times intimidating, Lithgow commanded the space. I have known his work primarily through tv sitcoms, so it was refreshing to get to see the depth of his skill live, and in a character who is so deeply challenging intellectually, with seemingly opposing viewpoints within himself. An absolutely extraordinary performance, sat within a decent play.

Similar to other such historical moment plays about big personalities, I do think that without Lithgow in the lead, the play would find itself rudderless.

Our Cosmic Dust @ Park Theatre

An adaptation of a Japanese story, Our Cosmic Dust is visually stunning. Making use of a massive dynamic projection screen over the back wall, and a reflective floor which at times creates infinite loops of visuals, the story takes you through the experience of a young boy and his mother, following the death of his father. The boy goes on an epic adventure, while the mother follows anxiously hoping for the best for her son.

The script is whimsical to match the design, and the 5 actors move through the space beautifully, supporting the puppet and magical world they create together. They leveraged many techniques common in physical theatre practice, clearly inspired by Complicité, to great effect.

All of that sounds lovely, and it is — but something struck a negative note with me when it came to the direction. While each of the characters were fully realised and unique, they also somehow felt tonally quite different, and not aligned in the mood and character of the play itself. It is definitely disappointing, as so many other elements were simply outstanding.

Insane Asylum Seeker @ Bush Theatre

Supported by a stack of TV’s showing curated clips of real historical events, this solo performance weaves a story of the intergenerational impact of the trauma of needing to flee your homeland and claim asylum. Laith is born and raised in Britain, the child of refugees who have settled around London, but for whom the ongoing ramifications of colonialism and war have long tentacles that reach him decades on and miles away.

The very real examination of the impact on him as an individual, as we see him learn more about his parents and their own trauma, and has he unpacks his own, is a timely story in the shadow of the current government’s whitepaper on proposed changes to the current immigration rules, and a public opinion which seems to create others before it creates community.

The production and performance are strong — and the humour in the script helps to create tension and increases the impact of some of the truly upsetting moments of the play. I in particular enjoyed the design, leveraging light to create feelings of uncertainty and a broken mind.

I hope this production sees another run.

An Oak Tree @ Young Vic Theatre

A line of empty chairs. A table upstage with clipboards containing scripts, and some audio equipment. A microphone. These are the simple tools that create the magical and multidimensional world of An Oak Tree. 20 years on, with so many spiderwebs of influence spawning from this singular creation, the looming question is, does this still work?

Indeed it does. A second performer meets Tim Crouch an hour before the performance, for a hello and to ask questions. They wait in the audience for the play to begin. But it has already begun; the world is being spun slightly sideways on its axis, as we see Tim the performer, Tim in character, and Tim the person (arguably Tim the writer is in there somewhere too) gently supporting the other actor in the journey, as they move between spaces and times, in and out of a character they are discovering on the page in front of us — all while never leaving the nearly empty space. When we saw the Young Vic production, the outstanding Adjoa Andoh was the guest performer; a tiny woman with the biggest heart and quickest mind you can imagine. Her imagination raced and took us along with her. Simply watching her imagine spaces that Tim described to her aloud was riveting, and observing her first instinctual read and response to the text was pure and sensational.

Obviously Andoh is an incredible performer, but the opportunity to watch her first interaction with a script, character, and story, in the space created by Tim’s play, is something else. My husband, who is familiar with Crouch’s work was fooled by Tim’s clever script and Adjoa’s intellect into being convinced that surely, movements were directed, responses rehearsed. Indeed they were not. That’s the magic of Crouch’s script; it creates a playground for an intelligent and willing actor to play, laying bare to the process of analysis, creation, and engagement, all right before our eyes.

I feel blessed to have witnessed this evening.

Overshare @ Greenwich Theatre

An ambitious solo performance, Overshare lives both in the world in front of us, and in the online world. Our protagonist comes to us via Instagram live, mediating what we see before our eyes and what we see on screen, with all moments perceived through this duality. The contrast in the way she appears across the two mediums is stark and at times jarring, calling into question our perceptions of what is real in these heavily digitally mediated times.

Struggling with anxiety and depression spurned by a toxic relationship with an older (and married) man, while having never properly recovered from the death of her mother as a small child, we see a woman reaching out for connection but unable to connect when it is in front of her. Simultaneously performing her mania and asking us to agree she is fine, we bear witness (at one moment, quite literally as the camera is turned on the audience).

Darkly funny and heartbreaking, but also calling the audience to the attention of our own inaction — watching the downfall from the safety of our seats. The performance also lives within instagram; if you follow the show, there are ways to interact, and the stream itself can be viewed. It is a production for these times, like few others — truly challenging us to question where and how we interact, just what we think is real; and importantly, what we do about it.

Diagnosis @ Finborough Theatre

Athena Stevens’ new play focusses on a woman who is picked up by police slightly into the future, after an altercation in a bar. The woman who has cerebral palsy and uses a wheelchair (played by Stevens) claims to see things about the people around her, which prompts her to try to warn them before these traumas happen. It’s a little futuristic, positioning the audience as a citizens’ council who bear witness to the video recorded and transcribed interview of a vulnerable citizen. Indeed the slightly outside our current realm but not entirely unbelievable nature of the world of the play is quite intriguing — the way technology is used for us (and at times against us) in the telling of the story is compelling.

The presence of this technology results in a very clever and innovative means of creating a sense of movement and challenging perspective in the small space, using live video editing to create a world we see but the actors do not, further emphasizing the plight of the protagonist.

The script is funny but at the same time upsetting — a delicate balance to strike, which it does quite well. And by centering the story of a vulnerable individual while not making it about their disability, the script and production engage in a meaningful way with representing the stories of individuals who are frequently sidelined.

At a pacy 50 minutes, it is just the right length for the intensity of the moments it creates, really driving the audience to question who and what we believe, and what we bear witness too.

Goner @ Battersea Arts Centre

Goner is a solo dance and theatre piece which mingles cultural references to Black culture in Britain with a horror story. There is music and dance, but also murder. Repetitive dance choreography creates a hypnotic state, and the choices of when we are fully lit vs when we’re plunged into darkness are quite interesting, coupled with overloud sound effects, and lights which are at times so blinding the audience needed to cover their eyes. These choices were intentional, creating a discomfort for the audience and calling attention to our complicity as viewers of the act of performance.

Overall, the piece creates some compelling images and thoughts as it progresses, and in many was is quite aggressive in its overall aesthetic, which is thought provoking, however falls short of quite landing its message. If I’m honest, I can’t quite place my finger on what it was that I felt it was missing to achieve this. That said, it was incredibly well considered and masterfully performed.

Cabaret @ The Kit Kat Club

So first things first — I didn’t get to see Billy Porter. Just my luck to spend a shocking amount on tickets, and it happens to be for his day off.

Now that we’re past that — there is much to like about this production, and in particular, I feel as though having seen Marisha Wallace’s stunning turn as Sally Bowles, I have witness a moment in theatre history.

The production positions itself as immersive, with the renovated Playhouse theatre repositioned as the Kit Kat Club. Audience members enter via the old stage door, into the depths of a basement club where they’re given stickers for their phones (like one does at any good German club…. ) and offered shots of Schnapps as you wander up a dimly lit hallway and find yourself immersed in the club. There are a company of Prelude performers throughout the building, there as you explore the various bars and the renovation of the building to look less like a traditional West End theatre and more like an in-the-round cabaret theatre. The mood is exceptional; it is playful and fun, and really creates a delightful atmosphere.

The first act begins, and what stands out is the willingness of the production to not sanitise the story — to allow this late-Weimar Republic club filled with gender and sexually fluid humans seeking escape, to be its grimy and delightful self. There is a sinister mood, with the Emcee looming, lurking over every moment. When we finally meet Marisha Wallace’s Sally, we’re struck by the pain she is clearly hiding barely below the surface. It is clear she is running, and as the plot progresses she is only running faster, yet going nowhere…stuck in the hedonism and everything that comes with it.

Unfortunately, this incredible setup and the equisite performances are let down by the very artifice that set them up; we break for intermission, and it is just like any other west-end play. The ambience of the bars is gone, the feeling of truly being at the Kit Kat Club dissipated. Throughout the setup and first act I found myself wondering how the production would deal with the end of the play (don’t worry, no actual spoilers in case you somehow haven’t seen it). As we broke for the interval, and then returned for act 2, I hoped that the end would somehow reinvigorate this immersion. Sadly, it did not — in fact, the choices around the final number were almost underwhelming, lacking the bite that it could have had, particularly in light of the rise of fascism in the US.

This all sounds like I was disappointed — I was not, but only for the quality of the performances from the cast, and in particular, Marisha Wallace’s outstanding performance. Her performance of Cabaret could (and should?!) have stopped the show; the agony her character is feeling was chilling, breathtaking.

I just really wanted a production which is lauded for its innovation amongst West End productions to see it through. I’m not asking for it to have anything truly innovative (indeed, Immersive theatre was new and innovative 13+ years ago…..if not longer) but to really stick with the intention would have achieved it. Alas, it was just another well produced and well performed play, stopping short of achieving something really and truly memorable and different.

When The Cloud Catches Colours @ Barbican

This multilingual verbatim play examines the experience of homosexuals in Singapore before and after the law change which made it legal to be homosexual. Exploring the changes legally and their conflict with social changes, the deep seeded beliefs held particularly by older generations. It primarily takes the form of two monologues which overlap one another and speak with one another - although only rarely do the two performers interact. Instead, they interact with the web of semi transparent fabric which pulls up, is propped up, and creates different spaces to explore, almost revealing what is beneath.

There were a number of really great ideas in the piece and its direction, but it never quite realised the momentum or revelation that could have been. That said, it was a very interesting and engaging piece — I just would like to see it have another round of work and some adaptations to the production to see them fully realised.

Igloos Don't Melt @ Camden People's Theatre

Igloos Don’t Melt is a new piece of experimental performance art which explores the experience of nostalgia, memory, and sense of place through the metaphor of literal blocks of ice. There is a complete lack of performativeness to the production; a folding banquet table and a small freezer are all that fill the space, yet it is captivating to watch blocks of ice be removed from the freezer, moved, stacked, and then dismantled through various means and methods. The audience are part of the performance; delivered through direct address, with moments of interaction it is almost like an oddly reflective and convivial stand up show. There is no narrative per se, I would classify the production as post-dramatic — which is really what makes it work. Ideas fill the space, yet we’re given the space to apply meaning to them as the audience, with minimal intervention. There are moments that don’t work as well as others, in particular a longer monologue toward the end about nostalgia could benefit from further integration with the physical elements of the performance. Yet many moments are thought provoking and really sit with you. 

This was a piece steeped in theatrical innovation. The ideas within the show and their manifestation through the performance are truly innovative and push the edges of theatre and semiotics. In particular, the  many ways to interact with ice — which literally melts and is smashed up, changing form and shape, causing us to see “reality” change before our eyes — is quite magical, and incredibly powerful.