THEATRE REVIEW: The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night Time

Apollo Theatre

19 April

Booking until Autumn 2014

Any director who puts a real-life, totally adorable little puppy into their production is very canny. The squeals and "awwws" reverberating around the audience were a sign of a very happy audience indeed. Yet this adaptation of Mark Haddon's award-winning novel doesn't need to rely on gimmicks or fluffy animals; this is a stellar production packed with terrific – and totally believable – performances, genius stagecraft and affectionate warmth.

Coverage of the show has focused a great deal on the lead performance of Luke Treadaway as fifteen-year-old Christopher. In this instance, the hype is most definitely justified. Treadaway – who, at the age of twenty-eight, becomes a surprisingly credible teenager – has perfected his role, which he delivers with intelligence and sensitivity that never seeks to romanticise or trivialise his character's situation. He doesn't hold back on the details in portraying the symptoms of Asperger's Syndrome. The scene in which Ed (Christopher's father) must remove his son's vomit-covered clothes is touching in its care and delicacy, and well-judged in length: by not rushing through it, the painstaking processes which this level of care can involve were poignantly played out. Similarly, the detail with which Treadaway imbues the role is excellent, with habits such as scratching his head or playing with his hoodie ties, using small actions to create a rounded and believable depiction. Treadaway may be playing a young character, but he takes a mature approach to the role, exploring its depths and also its humour – the dialogue is often laugh-out-loud funny and Treadaway's puzzled seriousness is entertaining, whilst always ensuring that nobody was laughing at Asperger's. The performance treads that careful line of humour and respect, of comedy and sensitivity. There is truth and warmth in it, and it never threatens to be disrespectful. The Olivier award for best actor could not have found a more deserving recipient.

Luke Treadaway - credit: Festival Du Film Britannique de Dinard 2011

Yet as praise is heaped upon Luke Treadaway, it's important to remember this is not a one-man show. Many of the cast take on a range of small parts, proving adept at shifting from role to role, accent to accent. Niamh Cusack drives the show forward as she reads Christopher's account of the story and oversees the putting on of his 'play' – the play, of course, which we are currently watching. This allows for some comic moments where characters, and most of all pedantic 'director' Christopher, apparently step out of their role in the retelling, yet remain in character as far as the audience is concerned. Although Cusack's is the least flashy role, hers is a performance to reflect on. She is probably the only person in the play who really 'gets' Christopher, yet this is never explicitly discussed: it doesn't have to be, as we gradually realise the importance of her quiet but vital support.

In turn, this highlights the troubled journey of parents Ed and Judy who, despite their deep love, sometimes struggle to understand – and to cope with – their son's emotions and decisions. Most impressive is the bravery of author Mark Haddon and playwright Simon Stephens who do not shy away from the real difficulties of bringing up a child with Asperger's. Although things are certainly looking up by the curtain call, there is no perfect 'happy ever after' ending, and this refusal to gloss over the hardships is rewarded with brilliant performances from Seán Gleeson and Holly Aird – particularly the latter, whose portrayal of a mother who could not cope with what life threw at her is bravely honest and at times heart-wrenching.

The performances in this production would on their own create an inspiring, moving and truly fantastic play. But it is the staging that adds that touch of magic. Everything is actually pretty simple, but the way it works is absolute genius. From Christopher's dreams of being an astronaut, to the creation of a hectic Paddington station with a relatively small cast, to the set-up of an extensive train set across the stage, Christopher's world is evoked through his eyes with impressive skill and imagination. A broad smile spread across my face at the appearance of an 'escalator' on the back wall of the stage, as the creative team exceeded my expectations once again by a country mile. Everything worked in harmony faultlessly: a rare achievement.

It's hard to praise this show enough: every element comes together to produce a truly wonderful evening of theatre, and proves once again what a gem the National Theatre is in the crown of London theatre. If this is anything to go by, it is a real shame that Marianne Elliott has ruled herself out of the running of artistic director, because her creation here is a true triumph. The atmosphere of delight as Luke Treadaway delivered the epilogue and confetti fluttered to the floor of the Apollo was something special.

THEATRE REVIEW: Twelfth Night

Apollo Theatre

5 January 2013

Following its sell-out run at The Globe last summer, the transfer of this all-male, traditionally-staged Twelfth Night - playing in rep with the equally lauded Richard III - really has been the hot ticket in the West End this winter, and it's not hard to see why. On paper, the combination of stage star Mark Rylance and screen darling Stephen Fry, in his first return to stage for 17 years, is enough to attract the crowds. In practice, it is more than big names that have marked out this performance - this comes close to a masterclass in how to do Shakespearean comedy.

This is the Bard in all his glory - not stuffy, not incomprehensible and certainly not dull. In a similar way to other Globe productions which have toured or transferred, the house lights are never fully dimmed, diffusing that invisible fourth wall and creating an atmosphere of camaraderie between audience and performers. It is one of many signs that director Tim Carroll is harking back to London's golden age of theatre in Shakespeare's own time. While the traditionally designed poster is charming if gimmicky, the lighting, traditional music and seating on stage are far from it, resurrecting a spirit of companionship and riotous fun which so embodied Renaissance comedy. If this all sounds a bit corny and you're beginning to doubt the keenness of my critical eye, I apologise: but this is a joyous comedy which invites giggles and warmth at every turn.

Yet perhaps this works against the performance in an odd way when it comes to the portrayal of Malvolio. Stephen Fry is...well, he's Stephen Fry as we know and love him, complete with adorably pompous manner and Melchett-esque laugh. Capturing Malvolio's affected superiority and subsequent ludicrous behaviour perfectly, he has the audience in hysterics in his efforts to impress Olivia, with levels of leering sycophancy rivalling the great David Bamber in the 1995 BBC adaptation of Pride and Prejudice. However, enjoyable as Fry's performance is, it certainly shies away from truly exploring the darker elements of this play. Ostracised, imprisoned in a cell and labelled a dangerous madman, Malvolio is indeed "most notoriously abused", and his plot arc can elicit discomfort as well as laughter. Does he deserve such treatment? Should such cruelty be entertaining? Is his promise of revenge something to be laughed at, or does it throw a gloomier shadow over the closing moments of the play? Perhaps dwelling on these questions for too long is not in keeping with the overall tone this production is taking, but it would have been more satisfying to see a little more nuance and shading in Fry's portrayal. He will always be a crowd-pleaser, but - at risk of repercussions from his army of adoring fans - his Malvolio is excellent, but not exceptional.

At the other end of the spectrum, Mark Rylance succeeds in making a rather dull part seem extraordinary. His Olivia is by far the best I have seen on stage or screen, transforming the role from a fairly forgettable moping mourner into a figure of charming hilarity. Rylance's movement around the stage is fascinating and hilarious in itself: seeming to glide rather than to walk, there is a constant sense of hovering which lends energy to the part, even when silent. This is of course heightened by the wonderful expressiveness of voice and face, often simultaneously mournful and comic. Above all, Rylance's success comes from his ability to appear utterly natural in the role, embodying it whole-heartedly - given he is playing a countess in full Renaissance make-up in a somewhat ludicrous comedy, this is a pretty amazing feat, and a privilege to see first-hand.

Rylance might steal the show, but a regular scene-stealer also comes in the form of Maria (Paul Chahidi). As confusion and farce are milked to their fullest comic effect, Chahidi certainly rivals Rylance in gliding abilities and comic timing. Together with a superb array of frowns, simpers and wicked grins, he is a delight to watch and displays unfailing exuberance for the role. Another surprise of the evening is Fabian, as James Garnon shines in an often rather overlooked role which brings a much-needed dose of solidity into the raucous madness of Sir Toby (Colin Hurley) and Sir Andrew (Roger Lloyd Pack). Garnon however does not fall into the trap of making this straighter role too straight, with an impressively strong performance delivering comedy and thoughtfulness.

Director Tim Carroll must be congratulated on a production which delivers the essence of Shakespearean comedy with lightness, joy and sparkle. The styling may be traditional, but we are a thousand miles away from dusty old books and dry rhetoric. The bard may be known for his lengthy speeches, but with some cunning timing this Twelfth Night demonstrates the hilarity of the Shakespearean one-liner. With music, physical comedy, beautiful costumes (including a truly fabulous array of hats, I might add) and an Olivia who is nothing short of brilliant, this is a superb production proving that a comedy from 1602 really can - and deserves to - stand the test of time.