Friday Five: NT Live

The theatres are closed and many of us have been missing live performances terribly. Since the beginning of this pandemic, the National Theatre has been screening live productions of its plays, which has helped me get my fix. It's not the same as being there, but it certainly helps. I hope we all remember the importance of this artistic medium when we are able to face the world again, and that, just as the arts have supported us through this crisis with cultural sustenance, we support them right back with financial assistance. 

5 National Theatre Live Productions:

1. Frankenstein (2011) - I watched both versions which played in tandem, one with Benedict Cumberbatch playing Dr Frankenstein while Jonny Lee Miller undertook the part of The Creature, and the other one where they swap roles and everything else remains the same. This is more than just a gimmick: BC's Creature is angry and bitter; his Creator deeply troubled, whereas JLM's Creature is more humorous and quizzical; his Creator angry and arrogant. The supporting set, costumes and acting from the rest of the cast are sublime and the experimental steampunk element that director Danny Boyle introduces is a clear forerunner to his Olympic Games Opening Ceremony the following year, with its stark aesthetic and musical underpinning by Underworld.
2. One Man Two Guvnors (2011) - I took my parents to see this in London, with a different cast but the same production. It is positively frenetic, and James Corden is a tour de farce. The reverence with which the source material is treated, complete with knowing asides and dollops of dramatic irony make this a great piece of entertainment (director, Nicholas Hynter, dropped it into the middle of a 'serious high-minded season' for light relief). The perfect blend of verbal and physical humour will have them lol-ing in the aisles. 
3. Present Laughter (2019) - actors are a tricky bunch: they are naturally dramatic but want to be taken seriously. Noël Coward probably knew this more than most, and his depiction of Gary Essendine, a highly-strung bi-polar actor with an entourage, is portrayed with infinite intricacy by Andrew Scott. I tried to find a male noun for a flamboyant person but they all alluded to the individual's sexuality rather than their mental state, and any term for throwing tantrums, being temperamental or emotionally demanding had a female gender bias such as diva or prima donna. According to modern media, male meltdowns are either comedy fodder or concerning spirals into mental illness; Matthew Warchus' contemporary production of this 1940s classic explores this dichotomy from a fresh angle, only occasionally tipping the scales too far in the balance of mania.



Crossing party lines in This House


4. This House (2013) - Party politics can often seem farcical, and so they adapt seamlessly to the stage in this premier production of the timely drama written by James Graham and and directed by Jeremy Herrin. The setting is the turbulent years of 1974-1979 in the UK, when Labour struggled to keep enough numbers in the Commons to pass bills and enact legislation. The tally of members is calculated on an ever-changing chalk board, including people being brought in from their death beds to vote, and promises of bigger offices and newer furniture. The party whips are metres apart in the corridor, and claustrophobically close on stage (while the auditorium doubles as the benches of 'this house' with members emerging from the audience) while they indulge in the literal fisticuffs and petty point scoring more at home in a school playground. It is a building full of bullies, bawdy humour and the fledgling sexism of the 70s, which makes a ripe background for satire and commentary on the class roots of the major parties.   
5. Twelfth Night (2017) - The Shakespearean play best know for cross-dressing and gender fluidity is an obvious choice for blind casting. Initial reservations at seeing a Malvolia rather than a Malvolio are swiftly overcome by the skill of Tamsin Greig's acting and the sensitivity of Simon Godwin's directing. The twins are well matched through personality with Tamara Lawrance and Daniel Ezra displaying a similar sense of fun, and the Count (Oliver Chris) and Countess (Phoebe Fox) are both a lot more appealing and less pompous than in many productions. The festive element is heightened with party hats and feather boas, but occasionally teeters towards excessive camp. The slick set changes are remarkable, and a fountain on stage is always a highlight. 

Tamara Lawrance as Viola and Oliver Chris as Orsino in Twelfth Night

COVID-19: We Aren't Gathered Here Together

Last weekend it was Easter. I am a 'wishy-washy Anglican' (not actually my words, but I have been called thus) and only really attend Church at the major religious festivals - Christmas, Easter and Whitsun being the big dates in my calendar. Of course, this year I could not go to Church - no one can - and I missed it. I missed singing the songs and saying the prayers; I missed turning to my fellow members of the congregation and wishing them peace and good will. And I missed them doing the same for me. I missed that communal feeling.

For the same reason, I love watching sports and theatre; I enjoy a shared experience. Knowing that you feel the same thing as others is a wonderful thing. When I breathe in the hallowed turf of Anfield, it is a spiritual moment; all the home players and supporters know what I mean - we stand and sing together and no one cares how out of tune we are; we are in time. Our time. Any true fan will tell you the same (although they will worship at a different shrine). 

When the curtain raises on the stage and everyone takes a collective breath, we are all waiting to see what unfolds together. This moment will never be repeated - every performance is different - and we know we are privileged to witness it. And when the curtain falls and people applaud, they do it together. I have been part of a cast that received a standing ovation. It was magical and unforgettable. We did it for the audience and the audience appreciated us; and we were one. It was incredible.

I like listening to a band, but I prefer going to a gig or a festival. I don't need to then hear this gig again; I'm not a fan of live albums because generally the sound quality isn't as good, and the whole point is the being there. I am pleased the National Theatre, The Globe and the RSC are screening some of their performances so we can all enjoy things that we couldn't otherwise see - but we are still watching them alone. The roar of the greasepaint and the smell of the crowd is missing. (Yes, that was deliberate.)

'Queen Elizabeth viewing the performance of The Merry Wives of Windsor, at the Globe in Merrie England' by David Scott

I like a drink as much as the next person. But there's a reason I go to pubs and clubs, even if the beer is often ridiculously overpriced. I like the atmosphere of sharing things with like-minded folk. Restaurants and cafes are better when they're busy (not cramped and heaving full, but with a low-level hum of noise). Silence is good when it is shared. Have you had a moment's silence in public? Then you know what I mean: there is nothing more moving than a collective memorial. 

Over the last few weeks I have held many on-line conversations and 'attended' conferences and meetings; I have done group trivia quizzes and play readings; I have watched re-runs of football matches and 'live' theatre. But I have missed the physicality. I will stay at home, and I will practice the physical distancing, because it saves lives and that's what matters. But when all this is over, I will find my flock and I will join them again, and we will sing our songs. 

Because it may be elitist; it may be exclusive; but being there is everything.