LiveArtAlive

JUBILEE

The Royal Exchange
Adapted for the stage by Chris Goode from the original screenplay by Derek Jarman and James Whaley

Directed by Chris Goode

The interior walls of the Royal Exchange Theatre are densely covered in graffiti. The music is ramped up – this is not Royal Exchange noise levels – this is JUBILEE. The stage is set with Toyah Wilcox at her dressing table as Queen Elisabeth I regally pondering the future.

This is 40 years on from her anarchic role as Mads in the original Derek Jarman film. Having seen the original as a young teenager and promptly calling one of the family cats kittens after Toyah this feels like time travel for more than just Elisabeth I. Looking around the actual Royal Exchange theatre it feels like we could be in a time travel machine. I half expected Amyl Nitrate and her girl gang to seal in the audience with barbed wire and Union Jack flag poles.

This adaptation by Chris Goode is faithful to the original film. The production is brought up to date by references to Cameron, Trump, Brexit and music tracks like Bad Girls by M.I.A but it maintains Jarman’s messy, anarchic “have a go” punk ethic. Adam Ant who played Kid in the original said Jarman was making it up as he went along. Goode is known as a director who likes to give actors space to develop and explore and this feels like an explosion of many ideas. This is not a cohesive piece of drama but is more a series of adrenaline shots fizzing round the space like Catherine Wheels.

There are bodies copulating in various combinations, a brutish policeman is castrated, there is an autoerotic asphyxiation murder, there is beautiful poetry, singing, dancing, political polemic and witty audience banter led by the brilliant Travis Alabanza. Chris Goode has staged a sort of A-Level drama exam take on an anarchic cabaret cabaret. Love it or hate it you won’t forget it.

There are some blistering moments like gems from the stolen crown hidden in an Aldi plastic bag by Bod. The scene looking out at all the tower blocks vividly alludes to Grenfall Towers as Sphinx describes the grey concrete towers of his childhood as an equally effective means of killing poor people as war.

The passionate rhetoric which bursts from Amyl Nitrate in the second half gives Travis Alabanza a perfect platform for their natural brilliance. This trans artist is perfectly cast and striding around in heels and Jackie Kennedy pearls and pink is both outlandish and endearing. This is the performance that both charms and terrifies in equal measure. The original performer in this role was Jordan who Jarman described as “art history as make-up”. Jordan was in Manchester this week for a Louder than Words event – I really hope she got to see this.

If there is a SPOILER ALERT for Jubilee it is DON’T LEAVE at the interval because the first Act is overly long. The second act is a blistering finale where this “No Future” nihilistic polemic directly addresses those who remember the original film. If we were 15 back in 1977 then we have now been running the country for the last ten years. It is a sobering thought sitting in the Royal Exchange which recently had its 40 year anniversary watching Jubilee made nearly 40 years ago in 1978.

As the performance ends Elisabeth I can hear the familiar sound of seagulls harking back to her seafaring adventurous era. However hopeful or hopeless we may feel under whatever political ideology we uphold or rail against, perhaps one certainty is seagulls swooping over stony shingle coastline. I’m sure Derek Jarman would not wish it any other way.

Royal Exchange 2-18 November

Uncle Vanya

Large Theatres

HOME

Written by Anton Chekhov

Adapted by Andrew Lipton

Directed by Walter Meierjohann

Uncle Vanya was written 20 years before The Russian Revolution of 1917 and may depict a long gone era, however the themes of depression, regrets and obsessional love are timeless. The uncertainties and frailties of human emotion are all on display and are beautifully depicted in this adaptation.

The set by Steffi Wurster is vast so the home setting dwarves the characters. The walls extend up to encompass everything and everyone, effectively creating a sense of claustrophobia. The raised piano ensures that the comfort of music remains out of reach for Yelena. The sense of decay and gloom seeps out of the walls. Even a garden scene plays out within the gloom of the house. There is literally no escape for Vanya and Sonya. The estate dominates everything as both prison, and home and hearth.

The key human emotions of Anger, Fear, Joy and Sadness are all evoked in subtle ways. The layers of each performance ensure that each character is defined and memorable. There is always a sense of fatalism here and human curiosity about how each character chooses to respond. The emotion connection with the audience becomes truly intimate when characters address us as though personally sharing with us one to one.

The Professor is a man whose success and potency is fast waning and the only new challenges he faces are illness and death. Nick Hodder’s Vanya brilliantly evokes a man who has given up in body and spirit. He is only 47 but feels his life is not only over but has never really started. The tragicomedic outcome of his brief reach for love and hope is perfectly pitched. In contrast Jason Merrells gives Astrov vitality and curiosity which lifts the gloomy house. He imbues new thinking and change yet is born too soon to really make a difference for himself. Despite their differences neither man is likely to get the future they crave and will continue to exist rather than thrive.

The older women seem stoic and content in their roles within the house. The younger female characters are similarly trapped by the social norms. Hana Yannas is perfect cast as a beautiful and brittle trophy wife full of longing and repressed energy. She is mystified at the possibility of breaking free and having love and passion rather than wifely duty and social position. Katie West is luminous on stage, her Sonya is an innocent and it is her sense of hope in an weary old world that holds everyone together. Her physical plainness is viewed as an obstacle to love and passion so she is as equally thwarted as Yelena. She remains unseen by Vaskov despite being a good match for the middle aged doctor. The tragic irony that both her and Vaskov would rather have nothing if not a great love, and therefore both are likely to get nothing. She is at peace in a spiritual way, resigned to a life of duty and tending to the needs of others rather than fulfilling her own desires in her earthly life.

The ephemeral nature of love and hope seem to dictate that emotional survival comes from taking solace in solid things like food, vodka, work or nature. In Uncle Vanya we see all too painfully what may be the outcome from missed opportunities or possibilities not acted upon. If only Vanya had seized his moment with Yelena 10 years earlier or if Astrov was more of a pragmatist than a dreamer then Sonya would have a very different life. The invitation in this production is Seize the Day for each day is a once in a lifetime opportunity.

Fri 3– Sat 25 Nov at HOME

The Weir

Large Theatres

OLDHAM COLISEUM

Written by Conor McPherson

Directed by Adele Thomas

Co-production English Touring Theatre and Mercury Theatre Colchester

First staged at the Royal Court Theatre twenty years ago, The Weir remains an exquisite example of story telling on every level. From the first moment of this remote Irish pub opening for business to the closing of the door and dimming of the lights this is spellbinding theatre.

Nothing really happens in this quiet bar throughout the evening and yet this a night that will be woven into the local story telling traditions in years to come. The themes of loneliness, stoicism and loss are entwined in how much identity in rural Ireland is defined by the land and family. The four men are all from this remote part of County Donegal. The young publican Brendan and his regulars Jack and Jimmy are seemingly resigned to their solitary lives. Their individual obligations to Sisters, to the Mammy or to maintaining the local vehicles define their identities in this small isolated community. Finbar has got out, left the loneliness for marriage, commercial success and life in the neighbouring town yet he seems the most vulnerable of the four men. Newcomer Valerie has “blown in” seeking solitude as a panacea to grief.

The sharing of old stories and myths intertwined with lived experiences connect all five in ways that soothe that inner loneliness, and beautifully reveals the sensitivity in each of these four awkward local men. The relationships between the characters are perfectly pitched to reveal all the subtle elements of their shared history in this community.

Growing up in a rural Irish village I knew every man on the Stage and every worn barstool and smoke stained lamp and old photo on the walls. The actors personify their characters as though they have drunk them in reflectively like a pint of stout or Harp. When Valerie occassionally jars in the gentle pace it is only because she is an outsider, blown in from the big city.

As drinks are drunk and stories are told the magic of small lives richly lived is evident. This bar has no need of a jukebox, the tiny television is unused and nothing more is needed than the human voice and the wind singing under the door.

OLDHAM COLISEUM 24-28th October

On tour

SOMETHING DARK

Large Theatres

HOME

LEMN SISSAY

“Dark, In Darkness always comes the question,Where is the light?”

Lemn Sissay literally bounces unto the stage as though about to launch into a stand up routine. The first twenty minutes are indeed a stand up routine in the sense that this is a connection process. Who are we, how do we respond, are we accepting or rejecting? This is the quicksilver poet, the actor, performer, public speaker and private man and inner child. In giving the audience an extra bonus introduction before the play there is an unspoken understanding that this connection is about boundaries and safety. In therapy we talk about the three Ps- Protection, Permission and Potency. In this instance they seem vital to this piece.

During the performance he remarks, that “You shouldn’t tell your story in the way that I’ve told mine if you’ve not come to terms with it. Your well-being has got to be in mind.” On stage he exudes strength, confidence and a wickedly playful sense of humour. He creates a safe space for himself and for the audience in how he performs his own life experience. I sincerely hope that when he steps away from the stage those carefully constructed and honed inner strengths remain robust.
Something Dark is Lemn Sissay‘s one man play telling the extraordinary and shocking story of his childhood in foster care from birth and in four state childrens homes from age eleven to eighteen. It seems impossible to believe that Wigan Social Services countenanced such appalling disregard for a Mothers wishes for her child’s well being and safety. The second half of the play follows his journey to seek out his birth mother living in The Gambia and find a sense of family both there and in his parents homeland, Ethiopia.

Any sense of family however dysfunctional is a gift for a man who at twenty had no one in his life that had known him more than two years. “I was the only proof of my own existence,” As he reminds us family gives us reference points, family provides a set of disputed memories over a lifetime which inform how we see ourselves in Society. As someone who once stood pregnant for the first time at a parents graveside I can connect with that acute sense of being adrift and unknown without parents or siblings to validate my stories and memories.

The performance is rich and full of life, full of resilience and persistence. This work embodies our need in Society to embrace acceptance and tolerance. It eloquently screams out our need to address how we view young people in care and ensure that every aspect of their well-being is paramount while they are being parented by the State.

The performance is both uplifting and painful to watch as this clever, engaging and quite beautiful man reads his story and leads us on a journey so very dark and yet so brilliantly light. Light- because standing on that stage telling his story so poetically and advocating so passionately for young people in the care system, he radiates a light much brighter than the spotlight upon him.

For a human being born into such a dark place he epitomises nothing but light and has certainly fought long and hard “for the right to light.”

Journeys Festival International/ Orbit Festival

13th October 2017

DUCKIE

Cabaret, Children's Theatre, Large Theatres, Musical, Uncategorized

CONTACT
Writer/ Performer – Le Chocolat Gateau
Produced/Developed – In Company Collective
There are moments when I wish I could rewind time with my children and go back to when they were very young. Today was such a day, watching the gorgeous DUCKIE I wished my teenage darlings were ten years younger and there in the audience with me. This show is a wonderfully deft merging of cabaret, children’s theatre, fairy tale reimagining and a big dollop of old Hollywood magic.
Cabaret performer and Opera singer Le Gateau Chocolat takes the much loved tale of The Ugly Duckling by Hans Christian Anderson and goes to the circus to seek out soulmates for this lonely misfit, the runt of the litter. To the delight of the child in all of us, the mischievious performer portrays a duck who cannot quack but belches instead. His lonely duckie can’t quack or dance, he is too small to be a muscleman and too big, too yellow, too tall…… DUCKIE would seem to be a duck who is seriously down on his luck.
The voiceover which speaks to DUCKIE and at times the audience is soothing and reassuring- a bit like having Judy Dench voicing your bedtime story. The rest is simply the gorgeous baritone voice of Le Gateau Chocolat which is like having your senses bathed in warm chocolate fondant. The songs often tweaked to fit the story range from Disney classics through to The Pussycat Dolls Don’t cha and La Cage Aux Folles I am what I am to Cyndi Laupers Girls just want to have fun.
Visually the set is deceptively simple but with dressing up clothes tucked away and bright umbrellas popping out it holds gems of surprise. The lighting design is magical and reminds me of the country village circus tours of my childhood. Throughout his costume changes there is always the fluid physicality, warmly, gleaming eyes and glittery lips. This is a performer who is totally at ease with his audience, both young and simply young at heart. It would be hard not to be drawn into DUCKIE’S world and empathise with his plight.
When the insults come increasingly thick and fast and the voicing of them sounds more and more like children the true dark background to the story shines through. DUCKIE is rendered small, wounded and vulnerable as he looks out in confusion at a world that will not let him belong. His salvation through a beautifully rendered little mouse is touching and ensures a fairytale happy ending. We shun or ridicule what is “ugly” not because it’s ugly but simply because it is different. DUCKIE delivers a message of acceptance and tolerance that resonates with adults and sews a seed in young children that hopefully blossoms in every new generation.
CONTACT 24-25 OCTOBER

The Value of Nothing

Immersive Theatre, Small Theatres

Waterside Arts Centre, Sale

Written by Kim Wiltshire

Directed by Joyce Branagh

This is a very slick looking production. Right from the point at which we are escorted upstairs to the oak panelled conference room by smiling staff clad in Artworks t-shirts this feels like a genuine launch of something – be it an organisation or a new play!

On entering the space I am asked who I am and given an appropriate file enclosing a pertinent question or statement relevant to the production. I am a journalist from The Guardian and have a rather probing question for the man of the moment Mr Vince Hill. The tightly packed rows of corporate chairs, the big screen, the glossy company billboards and the hospitality areas all look very authentic.

The staging effectively takes the audience backstage as observers of the seedy reality behind this glossy launch event but also has us participate front of stage as a theatre audience, and as the participants, business representatives and journalists here for the launch.

As Vince makes his rockstar entrance moving through the audience giving high fives and randomly touching people it all starts to feel a little unpleasant. He is the face of Artworks here to prove that Artworks because Art Works. He is ably supported by his shallow and ruthless companion Michelle who has a skin as thick as the leather on her expensive handbag. Clearly what has started out as a well meaning grassroots projects has been hijacked as a money making vanity project.

We hear from participants of the Artworks scheme who are keen to state they are artists not scallies. We see videos of well wishers including Councillor Smethurst who successfully nominated Artworks for a Pride of Bolton Award. There are short films from an unemployment workshop with interviews from participants. There is a growing sense that the numbers don’t add up and Artworks is not going to eradicate poverty and unemployment.

Moving on to the staged questions from the audience as potential investor businesses and as zealous members of the press, here the action unravels slightly. The Value of Nothing hints at being both site specific and immersive yet although visually this works it felt disappointing being in the audience when statements and questions did not facilitate any further involvement. This stilted the energy and stopped the performance really getting to grips with the political issues it aims to address.

There are some strong performances from Curtis Cole as the real deal Mikey and the always excellent Samantha Siddall as the gritty mum to be who loves Vince but is not fooled by this con masquerading as social enterprise. Their scenes are the most cohesive and Mikey’s verbal annilhilation and actual devouring of the class divided hospitality buffet is inspired.

This is a performance with a genuine social conscience which seeks to address some major issues around unemployment, poverty and the opportunities open to us dependent on social class and education. It certainly provides food for thought – and custard creams.

Parliament Square

Large Theatres

A Royal Exchange Theatre and Bush Theatre Co-production

Written by James Fritz

Directed by Jude Christian

This is the world première of Parliament Square which received a Judges Award in The Bruntwood Prize for Playwriting in 2015. It explores whether political protests can change the world, and if a violent act of conscience could really make a profound difference or simply be deemed an act of madness.

This production is sparsely staged so it relies on the strength of the writing and the central performances. For a play which centres on a single act of high octane drama and covers a significant period of years in its aftermath, there is very little action. This is a play which may work better in a more intimate space and for me it felt like it’s natural home was the Royal Exchange studio space. It is however testament to the writing by James Fritz and the direction by Jude Christian that the play is always engrossing and the running time of 100 minutes flew by.

The opening scenes with the central character Kat and the starkly named Voice create an initial sense of confusion. Is this a discussion/argument between friends/family/lovers or is this an internal battle of conscience or possibly even a manifestation of a women with D.I.D (Dissociative Indentity Disorder)? The use of disembodied voice overs to convey a sense of family cleverly creates a growing awareness of what is about to happen to all those involved if Kat is successful in her plan

The internal struggle for Kat is beautifully played out by Esther Smith and the raw confusion around what to do is peppered by little gems of exquisite ordinariness. The mundane shock at the cost of a single peak time train fare to London or the poignancy of regret at no more sex or lasagne or the brutal finality of the last thing to see being “a fucking Tesco”. There is a definite sense of this women preparing to give up a real life full of love and laughter. It is less evident what is actually driving her toward this extreme act of defiance. It is both intriguing and frustrating that there is no obvious causal factor other than “things are getting worse”. There appears to be nothing remarkable about Kat and no signs of psychological dysfunction yet she is getting on a train with the sole purpose of auto-cremating in a public space.

Fire is the probably the most feared of all forms of death. The sociologist Emile Durkheim separated suicides into four types: the egoistic, the altruistic, the anomic (moral confusion), and the fatalistic. Perhaps self-immolation captivates so thoroughly because it wins on all counts. It is the ultimate act of both despair and defiance, a symbol at once of resignation and heroic self-sacrifice.

The simple act of counting is horrifyingly chilling. 15 seconds are all that must be endured and it is over. The objective achieved and the pain ceased. As the seconds are counted out in real time it is simply unbearable and the sudden rupture at 8 seconds is agonising relief.

The second half deals with the aftermath. It plays out in hospital and rehabilitation as Kat and her family are reunited and have to find their individual ways to come to terms with what has happened. Society is untouched and largely unaware of Kat’s sacrifice, it is her and her family who are irrevocably impacted by this single act of political defiance. In the end it is whether or not the politics of family life can remain the same or not.

The dramatic use of light/dark/light in the hospital scenes is extremely effective at creating Kats slow and agonising reawakening and recuperation. This device is further developed as we see flashes of life carrying on over the years. Hospital appointments, job promotions, family barbecues and a child’s birthdays convey the passing years as society becomes more fractured and threatening. The stop/start flashes of life are reminiscent of the flickers of a cigarette lighter in reluctant or wary hands. The allusion to fire is also poignantly captured in a passing remark about “hundreds suffocating and no one surviving above the 13th floor”. The comparisons to austerity measures, broken Britain and Grenfall Towers were clear.

The relationship with her mother is the most interesting and Joanne Howarth is excellent as another strong woman who despairs of what has happened but is pragmatic in what needs to happen next for Kat to have a viable future. She articulates her frustration, “What’s wrong with a fucking petition?” and protects her child with a blanket of silence in the belief that rather than be viewed as a hero she would be seen as a lunatic.

The interplay between Kat and Tommy her husband and with her rescuer Catherine work less well. Their characters all need more development to be more believable. The extreme nature of the core of this play is such that it does not feel authentic that a marriage would not have been severely impacted by Kats actions. The reappearance of her rescuer seems more of a plot device than an authentic action. I cannot believe that the character would not have feared a similar failed outcome as that of Kat. It is a very moving final scene but I can’t help seeing the closing scene as either Kat revisiting Parliament Square after years of unremitting pain and finishing what she started, or with her and her rescuer Catherine standing together in a final unified act of protest.

Royal Exchange Theatre 18 – 28th October

Bush Theatre 30th November – 6th January

GREYHOUNDS

Small Theatres

Time & Again Theatre Company

Kings Arms

Greyhounds is a big play for such a tiny theatre space. Thankfully Laura Crow has written and staged Greyhounds so effectively that for most of the performance the tiny stage is forgotten in that the writing and the performances are what command attention. Set over a month long rehearsal for an amateur production of Shakespeare’s Henry V it gives a poignant and perceptive window into the impact of WW11 on individuals in the sleepy village of Shuttlefield.

Each of the five characters are fleshed out and have an real authenticity as people in 1941 living in wartime Britain and dealing with their individual responses to war. Big sister Ruby is stoic and gungho in her determination to do her “bit” for the war effort. Armed with a sneaky gin or two she sets about staging Henry V to raise money for a Spitfire for the war effort. She is undeterred by a cast of five plus recreating a play with a cast of fifty plus. Nancy is a would-be professional actress with a husband in the Navy. Bright and bubbly, Rachel Horobin portrays her as a wartime “good” goodtime gal who rejoices in her independence . Katherine is brilliantly analytical and terrifyingly literal. The character is beautifully conceived as the young sister who is clearly on the autistic spectrum. She is played by Laura Crow with the chilly coolness of a early Katherine Hepburn.

The men in this piece are slightly more obvious. There are two very different heroes who are both struggling with what constitutes courage and honour in wartime. In Will there is a clever, sensitive man trying to stay true to his beliefs in a war where nothing is truly black and white. Ned is perceived by all as a wounded war hero but his emotional wounds are much deeper and are unlikely to ever fully heal.

The passages from Henry V in the rehearsals are thoughtfully used to develop and highlight the individual stories of each character on stage. They also provide a light touch as we observe the range of acting skills in this bunch of mainly reluctant thespians. At times Katherine is as woefully wooden in her roles as the swords used as props.

The attention to detail in the whole play is a delight. The dialogue has a real period tone that manages to always feel fresh and naturalistic. The wartime posters, period gin bottles, bakelite phones and radios are on stage while the audience clasp beautiful programmes designed like wartime i.d. cards. Hair, make up and costumes are also lovingly considered.

The play unfolds with little gems of story. A character lives a life of duty and obligation yet dreams of the work of Frida Pablo and Diego Rivera. Another fears the end of this war and a return to a bleak domestic normality. Others look for salvation in new opportunities, the lucky ones in this war are those for whom war gives openings to natural abilities previously seen as character flaws.

I see you stand like greyhounds in the slip, straining upon the start. This line from Henry V is apt as a title in that all five characters are straining for new freedoms and opportunities. I suspect the writing is also straining to start her next work. I for one look forward to whatever that may be.

We Are Ian

Dance, Physical Theatre, Small Theatres

In Bed With My Brother

HOME

Ian is real, so real it turns out he is sat in the audience tonight. For the show he remains a voice pulsating as a bare lightbulb, while he reminisces about the Manchester rave scene of the Eighties. Three young women crowd around the bulb listening to his Mancunion words of wisdom like he is a Messiah and they are his disciples of dance. Ian says, “Its 2017, we got fuck all. Let’s have a party. Party like it’s 1989.”

The show is a blend of thumping music, smoke machines and frenzied dancing to club classics like Hallelujah – The Happy Mondays. There is projection screen with dance instructions, lyrics and footage of political speeches and events from the last 30 years. The performers do lots of lip syncing and are incredibly facially expressive yet barely speak. The gurning and munching and spitting of so many biscuits is bizarrely completely engaging.

This is a mainly young audience who like IBWMB were not even born when Ian was raving, getting wankered and feeling the love on brown biscuits. Quick learners they follow Ian’s journey and it’s a fun trip to take with neon instructions for Hot Potato/Cold Spaghetti. Fun til the politics kick in and images of Thatcher and May appear in black, white and grey to the sound of Dominator by Human Resource. They are interspersed with footage of the old Hulme being demolished and Anti-Austerity marches etc. This is a timely history lesson about the unifying power of music and dance and its impact on civil unrest.

Dora, Nora and Kat (IBWMB) repulse and beguile in equal measure but by the end of the show I might just be a little in love with all three, biscuits crumbs included. Their capacity to physically engage with the audience is impressive as by the end of the performance they generate a love in the space that their mate Ian would approve off. They even manage to do it without illegal brown biscuits!!
We Are Ian is a masterclass in clubbing and a political call to wake up and make change happen. The end of the performance is pure exuberance and the scenes on stage may be my best ever memory of being in a performance.

Until October 14.

BOURGEOIS & MAURICE: HOW TO SAVE THE WORLD WITHOUT REALLY TRYING

Cabaret, Small Theatres

HOME
Drag aliens have descended on Theatre 2 at HOME and an audience of humansexuals are there for the anarchic Weimaresque cabaret. These drag aliens are rocking some serious sequins, latex, beehives and lashes. They are also strangely reminiscent of Ana Matronic and Jake Shears of Scissor Sisters being channelled via AbFab Patsy and Julian Clary.

The performers are the first to receive the HOME T1 Commission which will result in a creative development project leading to new piece of work in Theatre 1 in Spring 2019.

Georgeouis Bourgeouis (George Herworth) is an acerbic, bitchy, narcissistic cabaret singer who is an armchair activist. Maurice Maurice (Liz Morris) is a deadpan, piano playing nihilist who aspires to become simply gas. Bougeouis & Maurice are full on throughout the performance. They never break character even when talking to their multiple other selves on screen.

The performance is a riotous blend of wickedly funny songs and sharp observations on our current political landscape. The drag aliens have studied and googled our society and having decided that all the other political isms have failed they suggest adopting their own brand of hedonism.

Subjects such as flawed British values, Brexit, patriarchy and chemsex are covered in unforgettable songs. I drove home humming the classic “everyone’s at a chemsex party except me”- available on Spotify.

This is slick delivery underpinned by layers of carefully conceived detail and precise observations. The rousing anthem was no saccharine song of hope but was an inspired and a perfect way to close a show about saving the world. If cabaret is really the last frontier then what a way to go.

10/11 October