THEATRE REVIEW: Peter And Alice

Noel Coward Theatre

Tue 7 May

until 1 June

Trailer: Peter and Alice courtesy of Michael Grandage

Two shows in, the inaugural season of the Michael Grandage Company is already set to be a roaring success. John Logan's new play starring Judi Dench and Ben Whishaw has been much-publicised, and the fact that the run has been a sell-out is no doubt due in no small part to these two high profile leads. But the hidden star is surely Christopher Oram – the design of the opening scene is exquisite, seemingly simple when you first glance at it, but delightful as the eye peruses it. Not having the curtain down before the start of the play is a lovely way to show off Oram's work: the dusty old bookshop holds lots of detail on its many shelves, contrasting its shades of drabness against the colourful lives that soon arrive into it.

This beautifully-crafted yet ordinary setting soon gives way to a world of fantasy and memory, as the stage opens up and layers of time and imagination build up and shift. This play is hard to pin down as we flit from reality to fantasy, from present to past. The script leads us in this oscillating journey: at first, it is light and brisk, albeit with an edge. Dench's one-liners could really only have been written for her, with their steely humour and hint of a twinkle even in their brusqueness. Whishaw is allotted more of the meandering prose and, although it is sometimes tricky to follow even in Whishaw's fantastic performance, as the characters develop it makes sense: Peter Llewelyn Davies (Whishaw) lacks the acceptance and stoicism which Alice Liddell Hargreaves (Judi Dench) has built up, even through her troubled times.

As the final cheers of the curtain call died away, an audience member to my right mused that "there was a really good play in there somewhere – but I couldn't tell you what it was". Although this seems a little negative, I could see his point: this is a tricky play to get a hold of, as expectations and preconceptions are constantly derailed as the production takes us in suprising directions, often in winding dialogue. For this reason it isn't the most satisfying play you can see in the West End, perhaps simply because the script is a little wordy and there are too many elements trying to co-exist in it. Yet it is still an enjoyable evening of theatre, and this struggle to grasp at the elusive heart of the play makes for an intriguing puzzle. There can be no doubting the quality of work of the two leads: Whishaw and Dench more than prove their acting prowess – not that Dench has anything to prove with such a glittering career – with two magnificent performances. They are simultaneously moving, amusing, touching and enthralling, and absolutely live the parts: although we cannot help but reflect on their other famous roles, there is no hint here of M or Q, of Elizabeth I or The Hour's Freddie Lyon. Different as they are, Whishaw and Dench ensure that these characters work as a duo who support, disarm, challenge and reassure each other in turn, creating an unexpected yet fascinating pairing.

They are supported on the whole by a strong cast: Nicholas Farrell and Derek Riddell are both a sensitive and powerful presence as Lewis Carroll and James Barrie respectively, depicting the troubled individuals whose creative minds produced these unforgettable characters. As the fictional Alice, Ruby Bentall strikes the right note of an innocent yet somehow ominous shadow of the real Alice; similarly, as Peter Pan, Olly Alexander is occasionally a little soulless and flat, but treads the line between a comfort and a burden as the two literary characters flit amongst and even interact with their real life inspirations. The allusions to Alice in Wonderland and Peter Pan within the script are pleasing as we recognise them, but also newly poignant and sometimes disturbing as reality and fantasy are juxtaposed before our eyes: as Peter and Alice's stories are entwined and confused, the apparent familiarity of the two tales is blurred.

Although the plot and script whirl between fantasy, reality and that realm in between – that of memory – there are moments of starkness here which remind the audience of the earthly struggles which still continue, even when fairytales carry us off to another world. The final moments raised an audible murmur from the audience as its brutal bluntess was startling: Whishaw's simple act of closing the door behind him is powerful in its finality. Perhaps reality has conquered fantasy, or perhaps the fantasy of their childhoods has driven the protagonists' reality to this precipice. Unusual and tricky to get a hold of, Peter and Alice is still an intriguing, thoughtful piece of work carried by two wonderfully memorable performances.

Hamlet's Fool and the Cockpit Theatre

For those of you who aren't subject to my spamming of Facebook and Twitter every time I review something (you know you love it really...), on Friday night I headed down to the Cockpit Theatre in Marylebone to check out Hamlet's Fool on behalf of A Younger Theatre. The production was for the most part entertaining, with engaging and infectious storytelling from sole actor Peter Cutts; it had its weak points, no doubt, but his versatility and sheer enjoyment shone through and managed to create both laughter and poignancy in his rapid switching of roles, even though the script was a bit of a let-down in the final section. My full review can be found here if you fancy a spot of light reading on a Sunday afternoon: http://www.ayoungertheatre.com/review-hamlets-fool-cock-pit/

The Cockpit Theatre is a great little find, too. On my first visit there I was struck by its relaxed atmosphere, created for the most part by the open and easy friendliness of the the staff. The front of house team were warm and welcoming, and a mixture of old and young theatregoers created a happy buzz in the bar before the show.

Jazz in the Round
Image credit: Cockpit Theatre

As well as visiting theatre companies, the theatre also plays host to a range of musical acts, from the "gypsy jazz" of Elements of the Hot Club, who provided post-show entertainment after Hamlet's Fool, to the 'Jazz in the Round' which takes place every last Monday of the month. Described as a "barrier-busting jazz/ contemporary music binge", it presents an array of soloists and bands and looks to be a great way to spend an evening without breaking the bank!

THEATRE REVIEW: Mies Julie

Riverside Studios

Tue 23 April

until 19 May

Trailer: Mies Julie. Courtesy of Riverside Studios

Temporarily, summer struck London last week. In Hammersmith it was warm and humid, sultry almost – an apt night to be watching Mies Julie, as Strindberg's 19th century masterpiece is transported to the South African summer. But if I thought it was hot outside, it was nothing to the atmosphere in Riverside Studio 2. This play burns. It crackles with energy, sizzles with raw sexuality, and exudes heat, tension and passion like nothing else I have seen. It is a production that grabs hold of you and won't let you go; it puts you on the edge of your seat and refuses to let you sit back. This hit of the Edinburgh Fringe has certainly proved it can cut some seriously hot mustard in its London transfer.

Strindberg's original has undergone some pretty hefty changes in Yael Farber's adaptation: the move to contemporary South Africa is the obvious one, but the dynamics have also been shifted significantly by the fact that Christine the fiancée has here become Christine the mother. Any doubts about this alteration, which of course eliminates the 'love triangle' aspect of the play – what is John now choosing between? – were banished as I began to understand this adaptation. At the heart of it is not just a 'will-they-won't-they' romance, but a battle between master and servant, white and black, and the past and future of this troubled land. The droning music is pulsating, throbbing, almost unbearably uncomfortable at times: together with the feeble attempts of the rickety fan to break the sweltering heat, it demonstrates this show's intensity, which is heightened by the lack of interval – a smart decision which increases the sense of entrapment. Certain moments of the show are pretty difficult to watch, and the audience are allowed no let-up.

As John and Julie circle each other, sometimes like children at play, other times like wary lions about to fight, the energy between them is electric. Their attraction yet simultaneous fierce anger has them dodging towards and away from each other, manoeuvring around the stage in a highly sexually-charged cat-and-mouse chase. Their movements are almost dance-like, drifting together and apart but apparently incapable of breaking out of this cycle. The lightest of touches sets the sparks flying: when the impulses are finally acted upon, the consummation of it is violent, desperate and animalistic. Although it is important for subsequent plot details, in some ways it is a shame that the result of these urges has to be played out before us: the simmering attraction between the two leads was a masterclass in seemingly effortless on-stage chemistry, as Bongile Mantsai and Hilda Cronje work flawlessly together to depict tempestuous temptation. On stage for practically the entire show, they demonstrate great stamina in upholding the intensity for the whole duration.

The introduction of South African politics to this play refracts its themes through a different lens. Masculinity, entrapment, class, ownership: the questions are all still present in almost overwhelming strength, but there is a new bite and bitterness to the stagnancy of the situation. Apartheid is over and a new dawn has reached the nation, but here it seems as if not much has changed: as John cries bitterly, "Welcome to the new South Africa, Miss Julie, where miracles leave us exactly where we began". Futility reigns as every plan to escape their roots comes up against a brick wall: everywhere violence and brutality threatens to crush Julie's fragile yet intense soul, and stifle John's passion. The audience visibly cringed and audibly gasped at moments of horror, most notably the ending which was the most viscerally horrible I have seen on stage. It is partly its gruesome nature but also the pointlessness of this loss of life which is so affecting, and its cyclical nature as Christine is left to clean up the mess, just as she did after the tragic death of Julie's mother.

Rarely is there a production that carries this level of intensity, power and raw emotion. Everything from the lead performances to the script adaptation to the musicians comes together to create an explosive work that is gutsy, passionate and altogether extraordinary.

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.