Wastwater ***

I was glad when my schedule finally yielded a free day suitable to see Wastwater (luckily only one day before it closed) as I had very much enjoyed my introduction to the Royal Court, The Heretic, and was keen to see if the much lauded Simon Stephens was able to give an equally good showing himself. The quality seemed assured on paper. Drawn in by the likes of Angus Wright (Design for Living - Best Show of 2010) who, let’s not forget, I named Outstanding Supporting Performer of 2010 in the Tipsy Hippo Theatre Awards and Tom Sturridge (star of one of my favourite pieces of filmmaking, The Boat That Rocked) I was expecting a superb hour and a half. Everything was looking good for Wastwater.  Perhaps that was part of the problem, though the somewhat anti-climactic and deflating experience must also have been caused by internal factors as well.       

      

The central image of the play is taken from the lake of Wastwater, the deepest lake in England situated in the western part of the Lake District. The idea is that through the three individual and separate scenes we are shown the deep, dark, shadowy parts of our human nature in what is an ordinary and thriving area, namely the area surrounding Heathrow airport in London. The triptych catches three couples on the verge of making a decision that will change and define their lives from there on out and none of these decisions are easy ones to make. It’s only in the final scene that the characters in each are neatly woven together and are shown to be connected to one another, though this has very little relevance to the play if any at all.

      

The first thing that struck me about the play was the marvelous stage design from Lizzie Clachan. Three difference scenes, three different settings, three completely different sets, each wonderfully characterised and designed and each set change completed in a remarkably short space of time. The cluttered opening in the conservatory of a middle-aged woman’s house was beautifully arranged with careful attention to detail, including the wet exterior from the often mentioned rain. The shift from this to the utterly opposite hotel room took me by surprise. Suddenly there was more space, clean, sheer walls as well as a computer, a television and a double bed. As if that wasn’t enough it all made way again for an abandoned warehouse, complete with suspicious puddles and electrical cables. The sets cannot be faulted, only praised.

      

Similar claims can be made about the acting. From the very first moment, the deep levels of characterization in all the characters was made abundantly clear with Tom Sturridge’s troubled Harry waiting on the doorstep smoking. It started well and just became better and better as each couple came on. Linda Bassett offered an unnervingly realistic performance of a worrying foster mum caught in the moment of goodbyes, while Paul Ready was a fantastically nervy contrast to the assured and confident trough of hidden desire that was Jo McInnes. Topping the show off with Amanda Hale and Angus Wright is always bound to be good and the strength of performance that Wright can be relied on for was matched by the brutality in Hale’s almost demonic Sian.  

      

Katie Mitchell’s hand in this cannot be denied. She is one of the best directors on the circuit at the moment and the unity shown by the cast here is a demonstration of the effort she puts in to crafting every performance, making it the best it can be, the most suited for the show as she sees it as a whole. Her contribution is perhaps the main reason the practical parts of this show are so well constructed. If she had had a better script to work with it could have been magnificent. 

The script, however, is the spanner in the works. There are moments where it is constructed well, the dynamics between the characters are all good and the characters themselves are worth watching and yield many interesting and humorous remarks and features, the most profound being those from Harry in the opening gambit, but the problem is that they’re a bit empty when put together. Having no plot connecting the scenes it falls on a unifying theme to tie them all together and give the audience something to leave with. Wastwater failed to do this. The poignancy was a bit shallow and predictable and the links of the planes flying overhead and the rain that stops and acts as a thread denoting what time things are happening in relation to each other are all good effects but don't seem to be used to the effect that they could be. It’s all very well showing us the various depths, shadows and the like we human beings are full of but, by and large, most people in the audience will already be aware of this and we were offered no extrapolation on it. No ideas of what to do, or even what not to do, no reason for things being the way they are, nothing at all. It’s like showing a baker a bun and looking at him as if he’s going to have an epiphany. It’s not enough.

      

All in all, it failed to grab my attention and engage me at any point throughout and when I left I was disappointed. ‘Was that it?’ was the question in my mind, ‘what was the point of all that?’ Perhaps I was expecting too much from the play, perhaps Simon Stephens was expecting too much from the audience, it’s certainly undeniable that the acting was top class and the set design superb, but in the end it was all rather empty, which I lay firmly at the feet of the writer. It’s a similar issue to someone taking a copy of Wastwater up to the Lake District and throwing it into the lake itself and expecting a huge ‘IRONY’ light to magically appear. It’s just no going to happen and is a bit disappointing. Do better next time or I’ll be taking the train up to the Lake District sooner than I hoped. You never know…

Written by Simon Stephens; Directed by Katie Mitchell; At the Royal Court Jerwood Downstairs; Starring Tom Sturridge, Linda Bassett, Paul Ready, Jo McInnes, Amanda Hale and Angus Wright; Runs from 31 March 11 - 07 May 11.

http://www.royalcourttheatre.com/whats-on/wastwater

John Ord (06/05/2011)

Moonlight **

Moonlight is a script from a writer who had previously done a great deal better for himself. First performed by a star-studded cast in 1993 at the Almeida it has waited until now for a West End revival and, if I’m honest, I’m not sure it was worth waiting for. Moonlight was Pinter’s last full length play and has all the hallmarks of a fading genius, the most obvious being its short length at only just over an hour, though this turns out to be one of my favourite aspects of the show.

      

It’s not all doom and gloom; the revival itself is incredibly well done with a slick and nuanced style that is a credit to director Beijan Shebani. Despite the strength of the production there is little to separate it from the wealth of mediocre theatre hanging around like a bad smell. It’s a very efficient show. The set, designed by Bunny Christie is functional and little more. The array of litter around Fred’s bed provides some small setting but it doesn’t go any further than that. The table in the corner that holds the phone is largely out of place and the bed Andy lies in looks more and more comfortable as the minutes drop by. The set in the theatre doesn’t help too much, with the unnecessary lighting around the stage aiding nothing other than sleep.

      

The quality of the acting cannot be undermined, though. David Bradley plays a vitriolic Andy, assured in his ability to work in an efficient and successful way in his life and sure of his opinion. Throughout the play he is sitting in his bed firing explosive expletives at every memory that he can pinpoint, often at the expense of his quiet but passively aggressive wife played by Deborah Findlay. She keeps a reserved and mature demeanour throughout that shows us how long she has been around him and how his personality has become somewhat one-dimensional to her over time. Unfortunately, we could identify with her position too well by the curtain. Bradley plays Andy with a desperation that Pinter was aiming for; the need to see his children or grandchildren, the need to revisit old affairs and past connections drives him throughout the play to no avail.

      

His estranged sons are a battle to keep up with, played with energy and rapidity by Daniel Mays and Liam Garrigan. Their quick-witted and intelligent bantering is well staged and well performed and gave the show a much needed pace, without which it would have ground to an emphatic halt. Their energy was needed greatly and they delivered well. The inclusion of the ghost of Bridget played by Lisa Diveney was an interesting decision from Pinter, though not as strange as his inclusion of a scene in which she actually talks with her brothers. Her place throughout the play is uncertain and confusing, though that’s what Pinter was trying for. He wanted Bridget to be lost in the angst and uncertainty of death and teenage life but she just looks lost on stage.

      

The characters of Andy and Bel’s estranged lovers, Maria and Ralph are characterized well by Carol Royle and Paul Shelley, bringing to life the slow revelation that they were all involved in mutual affairs in their younger days, not that the revelation is of particularly great import. Royle and Shelley bring a different dynamic to the show, a look at the situation from the outside that isn’t used to best effect, but again this is the script not the production, which is, to all intents and purposes, a solid show.

      

The revival isn’t poor, but it’s not outstanding and it needed to be, good not being good enough; the script is messy and nigh unfathomable. Very little is explained in detail. We never learn why the brothers are so estranged from their parents, or what on earth (and beyond) is going on with the character of Bridget. Her backstory is never mentioned, let alone explained and this left her feeling incredibly unjustified in my opinion. The erratic nature of the scenes and the conversations between the brothers speaks to me of a story half-finished. The amount of loose ends is not conducive to effective storytelling and again contributes to my impression that there is only half a story in Moonlight. There’s an awful lot of past in a man as old as Andy and with as many memories (some of which are very interesting) to fall back on but none of it is really explored.

      

Watching Moonlight was like watching the second half of a film; there’s backstory you’ve not been given access to and the action on stage is very bare without that flesh. What is, in fact, a very short piece was made to feel far too long for a show double the length never mind a show of its actual length. There just wasn’t a great deal there. It doesn’t feel real or emotional, reinforced by the convict-like lineup at the beginning. It feels artificial and false and fails to engage the attention of the audience at any point. The result is a show that is undeniably dull and markedly pretentious in its desperation to reclaim former glory. It’s incredibly frustrating trying to sit through it all, the only place I would have thought it even vaguely acceptable would be in a very comfortable armchair with a series of very stiff drinks. Might work as a radio play but I can’t find a good enough reason to recommend this show to anyone. Makes a poor hour feel like a wasted day.

Written by Harold Pinter; Directed by Bijan Shebani; At the Donmar Warehouse; Starring David Bradley, Deborah Findlay, Lisa Diveney, Daniel Mays, Liam Garrigan, Carol Royle, Paul Shelley; Runs from 7 April 11 - 28 May 11.

http://www.donmarwarehouse.com/pl127.html

John Ord (20/04/2011)

The Knot of the Heart ****

Addiction is an issue that needs to be highlighted. There are few people that would argue with the claim and David Eldridge’s new script for Lisa Dillon and the Almeida gives a breath of life to the twisted agony of addiction. Eldridge does so, much to his credit, without any sanctimonious speeches about the nature of addiction or the struggles of addicts, without preaching or obvious lecturing. The play focuses on the story of Lucy, the events that contribute to her battle with addiction, from her eyes as it is actually happening and not in retrospect. This is a powerful method and pays dividends.

      

Having not been to the Almeida before I must say now that I was delighted with the arrangements there. The theatre is a magnificent little venue and the stage was just as innovative. A revolving circular stage was decorated with translucent walls that were able to diversity to the set, allowing the stagehands to set up a number of different scenes at once and move from one to the other remarkably quickly. The effect worked marvelously well; occasionally we’d be encouraged to look through the walls and most of the time we’d be readily accepting them as solid walls. It allowed the stage to be intimate while still hinting at a larger world outside.

      

The family at the center of the story is possibly the most self-destructive family I have ever seen on stage (or off). The mother, Barbara, is ceaselessly stifling, smothering Lisa Dillon’s Lucy in cotton wool far beyond the barriers of comfort. She is usually seen either in a panic or with a glass of wine in her hand and her addiction to alcohol is clearly played by the actors as a major contributory factor to the larger addiction problems the family goes through, despite the fact it isn’t brought to the fore in the script until close to the end. Margot Leicester plays Barbara very well indeed. By the end I was finding it near impossible to separate her from her character, which wouldn’t be such a bad thing if I hadn’t found her character so utterly repellant. Her character work provides a wealth of information about the childhood of her troubled daughters.

      

The daughters are both played very well by very good actresses. Eldridge has openly said that he wrote the part of Lucy for Lisa Dillon. Her fit for the role was as natural as to be expected from such a dynamic. She takes the role by the scruff of the neck and wrestles it from drug-addled desperation to timid fear and back again through a great deal of traumatic in-betweens. The journey she thrashes out on stage is powerful and painful to watch as a driven woman tries to fight against her debilitation despite the best efforts of her family. Abigail Cruttenden’s part in that family is important and trying. Her character exists in the most part by way of relation to her sister but near the end she is brought into her own and the whole world shifts. Cruttenden handles this power well throughout, playing her powerful and driven character with an insecurity that raises the tension in any scene she is involved in. Her relationship as Dillon’s sister is one that is easy to believe and their chemistry is a valuable asset to the show, Margot Leicester completing what is a believable if hopefully not too common family.

      

Sophie Stanton provided a calming influence, slowing down the overly quick scenes when she was present and giving an atmosphere of security and peace as well as a bit of comic relief, which she incorporated very well. Kieran Bow also deserves a great deal of credit for his contribution. Switching between a total of SIX characters in one show and being able to characterise them all differently and fully is not easy but he achieves it well. I was confused at one point as I couldn’t work out if it was the same person playing a couple of the roles. I was sure that it was but he didn’t seem the same. Very well done indeed. I particularly liked the dynamic between his psychiatrist and Lucy and his male nurse and Lucy. They were light-hearted and fun where his earlier drug-involved characters had been aggressive and abrasive; it’s a very good showcase of his ability.

      

Despite all the positives of the show there was something that wasn’t quite there and I think it’s something that was missing in the script. At no point throughout did I feel invested in the characters to the point of caring deeply about them. Lucy’s fall from grace is well documented but the lack of experience of her grace to begin with damages our ability to sympathise with her fall. The story itself whistles along rapidly from the beginning to the end, managing to cover three years. This, I think, is too quick. We follow the story, and it is a very good story, but it all goes far too quick for us to be able to invest genuinely in the characters. This is perhaps a result of the story needing such a long time to play out. The story was prioritised over the characters and though I’m not saying it was a bad thing to choose, it does mean that the characters are playing second fiddle to the story.

Put together the Almeida space itself with a show such as this and there can’t be too many better reasons to go to the theatre in London at the moment.

Written by David Eldridge; Directed by Michael Attenborough; At the Almeida Theatre; Starring Lisa Dillon, Abigail Cruttenden, Margot Leicester, Kieran Bew, Sophie Stanton; Runs from 10 March 11- 30 April 11.

http://www.almeida.co.uk/event/the-knot-of-the-heart

John Ord (09/04/2011)