Drama
Anyone else experiencing deja vu?
'Septimus," asks Thomasina Coverly, "what is carnal embrace?" If any other play has an opening this good, I've yet to find it!
For those of you who haven't caught any of Oxford's seemingly annual productions of Arcadia, it's essentially the story of a nineteenth-century child maths prodigy and a modern academic squabble over the events at her grand country home one April weekend in 1809. And yes, I admit that makes it sound as interesting as double physics first thing on a wet Monday morning. As its opening line promises, however, there's a lot more to Arcadia than Fermat's last theorem; it is a wicked satire on academia, love, sex and literature.
The problem with much of Stoppard's work is that it seems to have been written to be studied rather than watched. Fortunately that doesn't apply here; the maths is kept to a merciful minimum, and the 1809 sequences often run rather like costumed episodes of Neighbours.
While the period scenes seem worthy of Albert Square or Ramsey Street, the present day action provides humour that appeals perfectly to anyone ever incarcerated in academia. Maybe it's something about being a historian, but seeing two researchers take a series of documents and proceed self-importantly to completely the wrong conclusions always seems to hit the nail on the head as far as university education is concerned. As for Bernard Nightingale - I defy anyone to watch him and not recognise at least one of their tutors.
With a script this good it's probably impossible to fail, but the cast and crew of this production (all drawn from St Catz as part of their annual Bullock Event) deserve credit for its success in their own right. While Andy Mell could afford to make his Bernard even more obnoxious than he is, Livia Benisty and Daniel Dockery complement each other well as the modern day Coverly siblings. It is Tom Wilkinson, however, who shows signs of stealing the show, delivering Septimus' lines with exactly the right level of comedy and feeling, boding well for the impact of the final scenes.
Arcadia is intelligent, romantic, and above all fantastically funny - the production has its flaws, but it remains a perfect antidote to those looming Fifth Week Blues...
A comedy double bill down at the Megastore...
Reviewing a play that lampoons theatre critics is a task lined with pitfalls. Excessive self-indulgence or pretension invite unfavourable comparisons with Birdboot and Moon, the ludicrous critics in Stoppard's The Real Inspector Hound. Both the exuberant and self-obsessed Birdboot (Matt Mandelbaum), and the hysterically pompous Moon (Rhys Morgan) are brilliantly portrayed in this production, and the interaction between them richly comic. The ridiculous play-within-a-play which they have the misfortune to be watching also contains strong performances from the whole cast. Ironically, of course, the quality of the comic acting only serves to stress just how dreadful the script and plot of this farcical whodunit is. Birdboot and Moon chat happily to themselves as the action unfolds, concerned more with fantasies of their words written in neon outside West End theatres than with events on stage.
In the central scene of Alan Ayckbourn's Table Manners, the audience is a fly on the wall at the dinner party from hell. This, too, is a comic piece, but a darker and more somber one. The three very different couples in attendance all see their relationships subjected to a rigorous examination: none pass. Confusion over a seating plan devised by the neurotic Sarah (Jennifer Nicholson) presents an omen of things to come.
The nervous and stuttering Tom (Geraint Jones) ends up sitting on a small box, from where the arguing amongst the others literally goes over his head. Between this unpromising beginning and the tantrums and tears of the end director Robert Marshall shows a masterly control of the dramatic crescendo. The acting is uniformly brilliant, and only want of space denies every member of the cast a personal mention.
Ignoring Stoppard's risks about silly critics, this is a nice double bill. There, I've said it: put it in neon.
Mentally challenging theatre.
Claustrophobic. Painful. Bewildering. Touching. Mental. 4.48 Psychosis will grab you by the hair and scream in your face. There are no characters, as such, only voices. It is evident that the actors have worked thoughtfully with directors Barnow and Singh to give the play a sense of structure that it is deliberately lacking. Blackouts punctuate the dialogue. Pearce looks lost, gazing into space, droning in monotony. Spark is dark, vicious and hateful. Her words are directed at the audience, making them feel guilty and responsible for her condition. Then the pace changes. Lee sits on the floor, clicking the lid of a pill bottle, while Tillett and Pearce list names of anti-psychotic drugs. The rhythm draws the audience in, mimicking a heartbeat, getting faster and faster and then, suddenly, breaks off.
Much of the viewing is uncomfortable, the words often too harrowing to penetrate. The lighting and choreography oscillate between the natural and the artificial. The actors move around the stage, idling in the pursuits of the lonely. Then they glide in harmony, mirroring each other like synchronized swimmers out of water. There are moments that seem false, contrived and unreal. Then there are moments that you understand. Tillett sits in silence while Lee questions her with feigned concern. Pearce stands at the back, answering as if she is the internal thoughts of Tillett, who looks like she desperately wants to speak, but can't.
Kane was adamant that her plays should not be introduced, that her audience should witness them unprepared. It is hard to approach any work of art without preconceptions, especially by a playwright of such notoriety. Try not to find out who Kane is before you go.
Apparently the director's fit. 'Nuff said...
The Insect Play is an enthusiastic first offering from a group of young Wadham Freshers. Building on their Cuppers experience, the company have used a combination of scripting and improvisation to bring this play to the stage. The eponymous insects are contained within the dreams of the central character, a tramp, and both represent and influence his thoughts and emotional interactions. Each act focuses on a different theme: the nature of love, the individual's freedom within a capitalist society, and the control and conformity existing within an extreme political environment.
The first impact is the vitality of the performances; though the interest provided by exuberant costume and colourful lighting ensures that it is visually absorbing. Both set and direction are designed to draw the audience into the allegorical world of the insects, which, though engaging, can at times become too confrontational. A powerful opening immediately establishes the impressive physicality and mannerisms achieved by the entire cast, and movement is used throughout to support the representations of the insect and the nature of the human weaknesses.
The insect characters are designed to portray human characteristics, though at times the extreme portrayal and comical nature lessens the intended impact. A concentration on sexuality and lust biases the first act away from any resemblance of sincere love or romance, though the later acts seem more balanced and broaden the themes beyond the individual. The director has also introduced games, toys and songs to convey a degree of childish innocence, which though effective is to some extent superfluous to the themes of the script.
The lively and enthusiastic cast, interesting visuals and challenging themes make this well worth beetling on down to see.
Yes, it is from Paradise Lost. Swot.
Her Old Possessions is a play about the female condition; yet another attempt to give the feminine voice her own time and space. The monologues themselves are disturbingly realistic, and not simply because they reflect a particular 'female' dilemma, but because they address emotions which are universal to both sexes. The author takes precise aim and the observations hit their target with disturbing accuracy. Monologues are not too long, and often feature more than one character so that the audience's attention is continually refreshed by the different voices. The play also moves rapidly through a range of social issues from the seemingly trivial (but hilarious!) differences between men and women to the more thought-provoking situation of a big issue seller. A talented cast of actresses transports you through their store of memories with a direct and moving style that will no doubt fill the intimate BT with laughter and tears. Though it's a play that investigates the feminine voice and the female psyche, many of the issues covered are universal and should be equally appreciated by any male voices in the audience.
6th Feb 2003