Drama
Ever felt that you're stuck in a rut? Unable to express yourself fully? Compelled by those around you to live a life too ordinary? George Riley, the central character of Enter a Free Man, knows how you feel. He's an inventor just on the brink of the great discovery which will make his fortune, and his wife, his daughter and the people he meets in the pub simply don't under-stand. No-one ever takes his inventions seriously, or ever believes that this time he really is leaving home for good (they didn't when he did it yesterday, either), and all anyone does is stand in the way of his aspirations.
Aspirations, in fact, are at the core of this example of Stoppard's early work. Unlike his better-known plays, the focus here is on human emotion rather than word-play, and in particular on man's frustrated desire for inde-pendence and individuality. All the characters have aspirations, but are trapped by their social obligations and interactions - and they can't escape those, because they're what define who they are.
The best and also the worst thing about Enter a Free Man is its depiction of real life. Riley, who is played to the full by the superb Andrew Hollingbury, is an instantly recognisable character. Socially inept, but sure of his intellectual superiority and full of desire for recognition of it, more at home in his own daydreams, he's much like many Oxford tutors. Director James Bounds has expertly ensured that as we watch other characters' reactions to Riley, so our reaction to him changes too; from amusement, through sympathy, to pity.
The people around Riley, however, are often stereotypes, and the world he lives in contains many clichés, and 1960s clichés at that - at one point I expected it to turn into the Monty Python 'Working-Class Author' sketch ("Tungsten carbide drills? What the bloody hell's tungsten carbide drills?"). There's also some rather clunky, artificial dialogue at the beginning of the play, explaining what's going on.
The problem is that in order to discuss escape from the mundane, Stoppard has to portray the mundane, and that doesn't make for very exciting theatre. It also makes an odd setting for the (rare) moments of Stoppardian philosophy.
This, however, is a criticism of the play itself, not the production of it, which is excellent. The acting throughout, and from all the cast members, is top-notch - in fact one almost feels that some of the actors are too good for their parts, particularly Sam Sampson and Emma Jenkinson, who play two of the play's smaller roles brilliantly, without apparent effort. The set, too, has been intelligently designed to reflect Riley's incomplete grasp of reality and to highlight his internal struggle between his dreams and his duty to his family.
There is very considerable talent on display here, both on- and back-stage, and the play does pose some fundamental questions in a thought-provoking way. For any true fan of Stoppard it's a must. But though Enter a Free Man does make you laugh, and it is interesting, it's one for those who like to sit comfortably when in theatres - you're unlikely to be rolling in the aisles or on the edge of your seat.
When portraying mental illness, avoiding padded cells, straightjackets and other clichés is not a straightforward task. Fortunately, Joe Penhall's Some Voices doesn't commit any of those offences - it is a beautifully touching and tender piece of drama. This is simply a very well-written play; shocking but not sensational, challenging but still subtle, and intelligent without being moralistic.
Some Voices begins with Ray (Gethin Anthony) being released from psychiatric care and focuses on his interactions with the world This forms an allegory for the way society treats mental illness: empathising with it, fearing it and attempting to control it. The societal microcosm in which he finds himself is a wonderfully delicate way of examining the intricacies of such responses.
Ray becomes an unlikely hero when he intervenes in a domestic row between Laura (Fiona Ryan) and her abusive other half Dave (Jack Hawkins), both of whom are insecure yet find different ways to (over)compensate. The abusive dynamic between the couple is an effective counterpoint to Ray's personal demons. The juxtaposition of mental health and domestic violence creates some fantastically tense and gripping scenes. We see Ray becoming closer to and falling for Laura, who is attracted by his innocence. Both the abusiveness of Dave and the inner abuse felt by Ray seem devastatingly true to life; the actors capture the subtleties of each to perfection.
Although all the performances are strong, it is Anthony's portrayal of Ray which earns the production its fifth star. His first-class acting ensures the paradoxes of Ray's persona are teased out brilliantly: trying to control the illness yet refusing support and medication to deal with it; his lack of ability to cope with confrontation despite often seeking it. The boyish innocence and attitudes he embodies when conversing with his brother are poignant and amusing. Pure, gripping and engaging; this is drama at its best.
Be it Soham, Dunblane or Peckham, the power of a brutal killing to traumatise and unite a community has been well documented in recent times. As well as dealing with hard-hitting stuff like gay-bashing, murder, and religious fanaticism, The Laramie Project also examines our obsession with grief.
Laramie, Wyoming is a town with traditional American values where the brutal kidnap, torture and murder of a gay man forces the community to introspect and wonder if the killing was just a random act or whether the intolerance was going unchallenged and even being nurtured by the Laramie society.
The play is told through a series of short scenes, mostly monologues, featuring an array of townsfolk, a format that can often seem disjointed and impersonal. The number of residents the eight actors portray between them is over 60: a number that is far too high and serves only to confuse and impair the focus of the piece. Less would have been more. When dealing with such issues it would have been profitable to see how well crafted characters react to them, rather than this in-your-face approach. The play suffers from many of the rigidities that can make such an issues let text harder to dramatise than a more character driven play.
The lack of design and costume can, at times, focus the audience's attention to the themes involved, but for the most part this is overkill. Despite some talented actors, the drama is both over-egged and uninteresting. Considering its rich subject matter, it was disappointing that the issues were mostly dealt with crassly. Supposedly raw and powerful, the play tries to make so many different points that it ends up making none.
The cast cannot overcome the lack of emotion, direction and tenderness in this play. The overall impact is like watching a Tonight with Trevor McDonald special for 90 minutes, although rather less thought-provoking.
There isn't a lot of devised theatre in Oxford, so it's a refreshing change to see a first year director putting this right. Kate Maltby's improvised show, Le Fay, will be on in the late slot at the BT in 2nd week
For those of you who aren't medievalists, or who don't have a particular interest in witchcraft and folklore, Le Fay takes as its focus the myriad of different stories about Morgan Le Fay, the witch who haunts the legends of King Arthur.
Sometimes a wise herbal healer, sometimes a demonic embodiment of malice, the figure of Morgan has been used by hundreds of different storytellers to serve their own different purposes.
Le Fay presents five different stories, each story depicted in several different versions, using starkly contrasting theatrical techniques in each presentation. Maltby says, "Le Fay combines an in-depth exploration of our cultural heritage with light-hearted comedy and never takes itself too seriously."
20th Jan 2005