Semi-Annual Theatre Review: Part Two

Starting where I left off, waaaaay back in August (one of my goals for 2007 is to update this blog more often. Note I said "goal," not "resolution" as I never manage to keep a resolution but I'm more successful at reaching goals...knock wood.)

The balance of the plays seen in 2006:

Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf by Edward Albee, starring Kathleen Turner and Tom Irwin
A direct transfer from Broadway, with the cast intact, this production deservedly took the London theatre scene by storm and Kathleen Turner even won the Evening Standard Drama Awards for Best Actress. Since the Brits are rather snippy about the quality of American stage acting (although they do love the star power), this was more of a compliment than it may seem at first glance.

And Turner deserved the prize. She gave a gutsy, ballsy and affecting performance as Martha. But I think I admired Tom Irwin's portrayal of George even more. It's not an easy role, ol' George, and Irwin never took the easy road in his nuanced performance.

Great night out, even if you feel beat up at the end of it.

Embers, adapted by Christopher Hampton, starring Jeremy Irons
Judging by the critics' reviews, this was either a play you loved or you hated. We feel into the former camp - not all the way in, it's not the best thing we saw all year or anything like that - but the play stuck with me more than most we saw in 2006. Jeremy Irons, in what was basically a one-man show (although there were two other cast members), played a former Austro-Hungarian general who awaits the return of his once best friend on the eve of World War II. Based on the novel by Sandor Marai, the play elegantly touched on themes of loss and betrayal - of friendship, of love, of country, of personal identity. Irons was wonderful, as one would expect, but Patrick Malahide really impressed. The second act was pretty much a monologue delivered by Irons, meaning that Malahide had to sit, wordless, and listen. If acting is truly reacting, then Malahide stole the stage.

Julius Caesar, performed in repetory by the Royal Shakespeare Company.
This was the first of our many Stratford-Upon-Avon visits to see the RSC during their Complete Works Festival. Every play by William Shakespeare, performed over the course of a year, by theatre companies from all over the world (and quite a few performed by the RSC, of course). It was also our least favorite of the productions. John Light was just too, well, light as Brutus - in his toga, he looked like a young Harry Hamlin in Clash of the Titans, and his performance never lifted me past that observation. I liked his Caliban in The Tempest, but here he played Brutus straight and earnest, with little complexity. I did like the spare, minimal design of the play, all red leather, white togas and red blood.

Antony and Cleopatra, performed in repetory by the Royal Shakespeare Company.
Patrick Stewart and Harriet Walter played the titular roles, and a vastly entertaining evening was had by all. The play was performed in the Swan Theatre, which is a small, almost theatre in the round type space. The actors are so close you can see the sweat on the brow and the creases in the makeup. This makes for an intimate space for what is, at times, an epic play, but it allowed the production to emphasize the very personal and human aspects of the mythic Antony and Cleo. You believed these two were in lusty, crazy love and why it blinded them to the tragic ending to come.

Hayfever, written by Noel Coward, starring Dame Judi Dench
Noel Coward. Judi Dench. Playing a West End luvvy whose retirement to the country is an abysmal failure. Add two bored adult children looking for love and/or amusement, a scholarly husband who is studying the habits of the common flapper (that's Roaring Twenties flapper, not some obscure British fauna), and three bemused houseguests. Mix together and fun ensues. Or at least that's the plan. Until I went through my 2006 datebook, this didn't register on my memory. So while I don't remember this being painful, I also don't remember anything else about it. A souffle, then, easy digested, easily forgotten. Sorry, Dame Judi.

The Tempest, performed in repetory by the Royal Shakespeare Company
More Patrick Stewart, this time in the role of Prospero.

One of the first Shakespeare plays I saw on the legitimate stage was The Tempest at the Old Globe Theater in San Diego. The Old Globe production was old school Tempest: the island, a tropical paradise; Ariel, pretty and sparkling; Miranda, pretty but rather dim; Caliban, a monstrous beast. It was a Tempest that emphasized the fantasy and wonder of the story (although I remember feeling very sorry for Prospero at the end).

This version of the The Tempest took place on an island much closer to the Artic Circle than to the Equator. Prospero's magic felt like it came from a place older than the Norse Gods, while Miranda dressed like a Scandinavian native maiden. This was a harsh Tempest, the setting forbidding and dangerous, the danger much more forboding. Ariel looked more like Nosferatu than Tinkerbell, while Caliban kept his human form, using body language and grunts to suggest his otherworldly blood. Against this backdrop, the stakes for the characters were higher, the need for Prospero and his brother to reconcile of utmost importance. Mariah Gale's Miranda actually seemed intelligent for most of the play, and Patrick Stewart made Prospero at once fearsome yet sympathetic. While in the earlier production I felt sad for Prospero at losing his daughter and his island, a decision which felt forced on him, here I rejoiced with him as he makes the choice to return to his kingdom. Truly a wonderful - and despite the absence of the traditional fairydust, a wondrous - experience.


Avenue Q by Robert Lopez and Jeff Marx
We laughed until we cried. I don't think you be of a certain age and have grown up on American television and not love this musical. Well, okay, some might not like it but we rolled in the aisles. Sadly, I think some of the more obscure references went over the Brits' heads (like the "commitment" spoof on how The Electric Company taught kids how to sound out words) but the five of us that were US expats laughed loud enough for all. This musical seems to have confounded the UK critics - it wasn't reviewed well - but I heard it was recently given an extension because word of mouth among younger theatergoers is so strong. When song titles include "It Sucks to Be Me," "If You Were Gay," "The Internet is for Porn" and "Everyone's a Little Bit Racist" - sung by not!Muppets - how can it NOT have strong word of mouth?

Part Three to come soon!