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)

Cause Celebre ***

Terence Rattigan’s last play was one of the first ideas he had. Having seen the media hype around the trial of Alma Rattenbury in 1935 the idea stuck with him until the end of his life. He returned to it when commissioned to write a radio drama for the BBC in 1974 with the stage version finally being forced into existence in 1977, the year of his death. The story revolves around the undeniably simple concept of the law not being a vessel for morality and the excitement of the real-life case is almost entirely lacking in his laboured adaptation for the stage.

      

The show looks as if it has been treated like a radio show. The set is sparse and bland throughout. The necessaries are in place and undeniably set the scene well but there is no more than that from the set. It was all very dark, large and brooding that matched the style of the play but didn’t help the staging of it. It did the bare minimum and I don’t think you’d miss much if you had someone record it into a microphone and you listened to it at home as if it were a radio play. Except you might be bored to death and long for someone to come round with a mallet and smash your head in. Lighting effects were good when people needed to be isolated and I was actually very fond of the part of the stage that remained raised above the rest for the more intimate scenes. It was used well if not enough.

      

The script is dry and dull. The sub-plot, which is about as useful as a sidecar for a passenger who never climbed in in the first place, is almost non-existent. Nimah Cusack makes the most of a one-dimensional role that leads nowhere. It adds a dynamic to the court case but no part of the backstory is tied in at all to any relevant factor and it hangs like a loose piece of skin.

      

The interesting aspect of the show is the relationship between Alma Rattenbury and her teenage lover and how such a relationship develops into the form portrayed in the later court scenes. This is entirely glossed over. Instead of the action of the story we are given the retrospective considerations of the court, which is nowhere near as interesting unless you’re studying law or are a lawyer in which case you see it every day anyway. Every scene in the court was dry, slow and uninteresting. There were occasional good lines and the competitive relationship between the barristers was interesting and well played if underdeveloped.

      

Unfortunately there was no saving grace at the end. The final verdict was predictable from the first explanation of Cusack’s character and the ‘twist’ given at the end did about as much as a Chinese burn on a mannequin. Remarkably ineffectual.

      

The whole play seemed to be a shoehorn for Rattigan to shove his last pearls of wisdom into the theatrical size nines. The point of the law not being a moral force is basic and the intrigue of the court minimal at best. There’s no substance to the story and the fringes are underdeveloped. The action is skipped entirely so the play can act as a retrospective over something nobody has any experience of. I could go on but I’ll just leave it at saying it’s a poorly constructed play.

      

The acting is thankfully not as bad as the script. There are a number of strong performances that do what is possible to rescue it all. Anne-Marie Duff leads from the front and gives a passionate and electrifying performance, moving from shock to flippancy to despair as quickly as a breeze through winter woodland. Her relationship with Tommy McDonnell’s George didn’t come across with the strength necessary when they were on stage together but they made a good effort of it, the fault probably lying with the fact that they didn’t have much stage time at all to convey the depth of their relationship. I’m not sure they had any after they had become involved at all.

      

My favourite performance was from Nicholas Jones as the old lawyer O’Connell. He brought the humour that Rattigan was groping for the role, giving both strength and vulnerability to the character, breathing life into a desolate room. His witticisms were well delivered and his courtroom antics relieved the monotony.

      

The rest of the cast did their best. None of the characters really had a large amount of time with which to make an impact on the audience. There were a lot of them and not much to them. The basic points they were there to make were obvious and no matter how hard they tried to add character it was clear they were there as devices. The judge and the members of the court were strongly played, as was Christopher, Alma Rattenbury’s eldest child. Nimah Cusack deserves a mention for her work with a character struggling with so many tangles that it seems as though she’s living in a massive knot, even if none of the tangles are fully explained. All in all, the supporting cast all do fantastic jobs with their characters and all the actors can pat themselves on the back when they're out of the woods on this one.

Having recently seen Blithe Spirit at the Apollo theatre, another somewhat disappointing production, my eyes are drawn to the fact that they have the same director in Thea Sharrock. Whether having two shows on in major London venues has led to a lack of necessary attention or whether the lack of attention was there before I cannot tell because I haven't seen any of Sharrock's work before. Both suffer from a lack of depth and nuance (though admittedly Cause Celebre has a disadvantaged script - there's little excuse with Noel Coward) and perhaps she has over-exerted herself somewhat.

      

Respect is due to the Old Vic for partaking of the centenary celebration of Rattigan’s birth year but a different play would have been advisable; Flare Path is much better. As a play it is one-dimensional and self-indulgent and I didn’t care for it at all. Lord knows how the actors are pulling off such a good job of it…

Written by Terence Rattigan; Directed by Thea Sharrock; At the Old Vic; Starring Anne-Marie Duff, Nimah Cusack, Freddie Fox, Tommy McDonnell, Jenny Galloway, Nicholas Jones, Patrick Godfrey; Runs from 17 Mar 11 - 11 Jun 11.

http://www.oldvictheatre.com/whatson.php?id=70

John Ord (06/04/2011)