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

Gently Hurling: After She Left

After She Left by Penelope Hanley

Impact Press

Pp. 337

This novel focusses on three generations of women and in particular the mother/ daughter relationship, but the characterisation is shadowy and they all blend into one. Penelope Hanley obviously has things that she wants to say about Irish immigrants, illegitimacy, art, Sydney, politics, and the Women’s Liberation Movement but the forced plot and the unnatural dialogue does her story a great disservice. The granddaughter, Keira, is trying to do a photo essay project on her grandmother (Deirdre Wild)’s art, but her mother, Maureen, resists saying much about her, creating a sense of mystery. It transpires she had an illegitimate child after an affair with a married man; this is not a scandal today and the consequences of it then aren’t covered well enough for it to merit the supposed shock.

There are ways of blending historical detail seamlessly into a novel, which Penelope Hanley ignores. She uses newspaper articles to fill in details, or clunky discussions about conscription and the Vietnam War; Whitlam’s speeches are transcribed. Neither does the author follow the advice given to every aspiring author of ‘show; don’t tell’. The description of Deirdre’s peripatetic lifestyle reads like a route map, and rather than trying to weave the effect of the artworks into the narrative, Hanley chooses to describe Deidre’s art in a mock newspaper review; a three-page long account of the paintings and the artistic style supposedly from the Sydney Morning Herald.

Queen Elizabeth II officially opening the Opera House on 20th October 1973

Characters discuss sexism in art, and the architecture and politics of the Opera House in a way which is simply unrealistic. Keira won’t go to the opening, because the author wants to shoehorn in her opposition to the monarchy. The frequent discussions about gender roles and how women do all of the “domestic stuff” even when they have a paid job too, are clearly important, but are presented as daughters and mothers lecturing each other with full speeches. It plays to the gallery so strongly I feel as though I’ve been hit over the head with a pop-up placard. Earnest debates about apathy and change read more like a social history textbook, and the writing is turgid as no noun is left with an adjective; no verb without an adverb. “When she let herself in, Lady, in a quick dash of woolly curls and wagging tail, hurled herself gently at Keira, barking ecstatically, her paws on Keira’s thighs.” – can a dash be anything but quick? Can one hurl gently?

Depth is implied through what the characters are reading, perhaps hoping their knowledge and ideas might be inferred; all books are mentioned from Iris Murdoch and Erica Jong to Germaine Greer and Simone de Beauvoir. Apparently constant mention of characters’ outfits is also a substitute for giving them any personality. This could have been an interesting tale but it is submerged in layers of overblown prose, excessive detail, stilted dialogue and indistinguishable characters.