God of Carnage - TNT
Like her huge hit Art, Yasmina Reza's new play is 90 minutes long and portrays apparently civilised middle-class protagonists falling out big time. Alain and Annette's son has knocked out a couple of another 11-year-old's teeth and his parents have summoned them to their blood-red living room to resolve the matter amicably. But it's not just their offspring who have behaviour problems. A starry cast impresses — Ralph Fiennes' supercilious, mobile-fixated lawyer Alain; Tamsin Greig's Annette projectile vomiting all over her hosts' coffee table; Janet McTeer's sanctimonious Veronique and Ken Stott's defiantly uncouth Michel. But, in essence, this is little more than a mildly diverting comedy of antisocial manners — bolstered by accomplished performances and awkwardly garnished with a hint of social conscience.
Gielgud, Shaftesbury Ave, W1 (0844-482 5130). Until June 14. £12.50-£47.50
Monday, 14 April 2008
Visiting Mr Green - TNT
Jeff Baron's first play has been seen all over the world – from Mexico to Serbia and from Japan to South Africa - since it first surfaced in Massachusetts in 1996. It's not a great piece of work – and the basic scenario is familiar - but this sympathetic two-hander will touch a nerve with anyone who has ever had to deal with a cantankerous elderly relative who desperately needs help but refuses to accept it.
Octogenarian Warren Mitchell (who previously played the part in Australia) reprises the role of 86 year old Mr Green, a Jewish New Yorker who (since the recent death of his beloved wife of almost six decades) has ignored the post and barely bothered to eat. So when smart young corporate executive Ross arrives in his apartment (bearing soup and ready to tidy up) he's none too welcoming - especially when he realises that Ross is only there because he's been sentenced to 6 months' community service for almost running him over. Predictably, over the weeks, chinks appear in the crotchety widower's armour, skeletons are prised out of cupboards and closet doors are opened to reveal areas of both similarity and seemingly irreconcilable difference.
Gideon Turner charms as the reluctantly solitary Ross (who has fallen out with his own family because of his sexual orientation) and Mitchell (doddery on his pins but with perfect timing and nuanced delivery) embodies all the frailties and belligerent resilience of old age in a gentle but sentimental production.
Trafalgar Studios, Whitehall, SW1. 0870-060 6632. Until May 10. Tickets £42.50 - £20
Jeff Baron's first play has been seen all over the world – from Mexico to Serbia and from Japan to South Africa - since it first surfaced in Massachusetts in 1996. It's not a great piece of work – and the basic scenario is familiar - but this sympathetic two-hander will touch a nerve with anyone who has ever had to deal with a cantankerous elderly relative who desperately needs help but refuses to accept it.
Octogenarian Warren Mitchell (who previously played the part in Australia) reprises the role of 86 year old Mr Green, a Jewish New Yorker who (since the recent death of his beloved wife of almost six decades) has ignored the post and barely bothered to eat. So when smart young corporate executive Ross arrives in his apartment (bearing soup and ready to tidy up) he's none too welcoming - especially when he realises that Ross is only there because he's been sentenced to 6 months' community service for almost running him over. Predictably, over the weeks, chinks appear in the crotchety widower's armour, skeletons are prised out of cupboards and closet doors are opened to reveal areas of both similarity and seemingly irreconcilable difference.
Gideon Turner charms as the reluctantly solitary Ross (who has fallen out with his own family because of his sexual orientation) and Mitchell (doddery on his pins but with perfect timing and nuanced delivery) embodies all the frailties and belligerent resilience of old age in a gentle but sentimental production.
Trafalgar Studios, Whitehall, SW1. 0870-060 6632. Until May 10. Tickets £42.50 - £20
Seven Deadly Sins - TNT
Love 'em or loathe 'em, the once seen, never to be forgotten Tiger Lillies are quite unlike anything else around. Their macabre contribution to the award-winning "Shockheaded Peter" brought them to the attention of a wider, theatre-going audience but it's done nothing to temper the deranged seediness of their decadent and sleazy lyrics. For their latest work, they've joined forces with performer Nathan Evans and burlesque artist Ophelia Bitz to illustrate the troubled path from paradise to hell by way of the seven deadly sins. The result is a disconcerting mixture of obscenePunch & Jude puppet show (in which she is now a he), fire-eating and otherworldly songs which sometimes meander but exert a gruesome fascination all the same. To illustrate Gluttony, the voluptuous Bitz scoffs a banana whilst percussionist Adrian Huge reaches down into the toilet he's sitting on, extricates the shitty contents and (to a chorus of amplified fart noises) chucks turds into the stalls. There are songs about sex and drugs and a big black dildo accompanied by Adrian Stout creating eerie sounds on bass and musical saw. A rubber baby doll doubles as a drumstick. Not one for the faint-hearted, then, or the prim and proper. But lead vocalist Martyn Jacques (apparently a trained opera singer who spent years living above a Soho brothel) is extraordinary. With his face painted white and his mouth a stitched, black gash, his voice ranges from the gravelly depths of a twisted Tom Waits to a screeching, accusatory falsetto and, as he squeezes his bright green accordion, there's a mesmerising fusion of gypsy, pre-war Berlin and sheer bad taste which proves irresistible.
New Players, The Arches, Villiers Street, WC2. 0870-429 6883. Until April 26. Tickets £19.50-15.
Love 'em or loathe 'em, the once seen, never to be forgotten Tiger Lillies are quite unlike anything else around. Their macabre contribution to the award-winning "Shockheaded Peter" brought them to the attention of a wider, theatre-going audience but it's done nothing to temper the deranged seediness of their decadent and sleazy lyrics. For their latest work, they've joined forces with performer Nathan Evans and burlesque artist Ophelia Bitz to illustrate the troubled path from paradise to hell by way of the seven deadly sins. The result is a disconcerting mixture of obscenePunch & Jude puppet show (in which she is now a he), fire-eating and otherworldly songs which sometimes meander but exert a gruesome fascination all the same. To illustrate Gluttony, the voluptuous Bitz scoffs a banana whilst percussionist Adrian Huge reaches down into the toilet he's sitting on, extricates the shitty contents and (to a chorus of amplified fart noises) chucks turds into the stalls. There are songs about sex and drugs and a big black dildo accompanied by Adrian Stout creating eerie sounds on bass and musical saw. A rubber baby doll doubles as a drumstick. Not one for the faint-hearted, then, or the prim and proper. But lead vocalist Martyn Jacques (apparently a trained opera singer who spent years living above a Soho brothel) is extraordinary. With his face painted white and his mouth a stitched, black gash, his voice ranges from the gravelly depths of a twisted Tom Waits to a screeching, accusatory falsetto and, as he squeezes his bright green accordion, there's a mesmerising fusion of gypsy, pre-war Berlin and sheer bad taste which proves irresistible.
New Players, The Arches, Villiers Street, WC2. 0870-429 6883. Until April 26. Tickets £19.50-15.
Monday, 7 April 2008
Maria Friedman: Re-arranged - TNT
Even on a Sunday matinee, award-winning Maria Friedman gave it all she's got - and certainly made one elderly gentleman's day – in her new solo show. Summoned from the front row, he was roped into dancing with the versatile songstress – and certainly fared better than another chap plucked from the audience to taste one of Mrs Lovett's gruesome, pussycat-filled pies in a comic song from Stephen Sondheim's Sweeney Todd. Backed by an eleven-strong band, Friedman's expressive voice floods the intimate auditorium with an eclectic range from Purcell to Suzanne Vega, by way of Randy Newman, Leonard Bernstein and Irving Berlin. Sometimes the "rearranging" goes a step too far – You Are My Sunshine sounds almost miserable. But Kate Bush's The Man With A Child In His Eyes is a heartfelt treat and, even in a whirlwind rendition of Jacques Brel's Play The Song Again, every word is crystal clear. Friedman has, apparently, selected the songs from among her favourites, and (though her links sometimes irritate and her choices might not all be to your taste) you can't help but admire her range – dramatically, vocally and (as she moves easily from comedy to heartbreak) emotionally.
Menier Chocolate Factory, 53 Southwark Street, SE1 (020-7907 7060). Until May 4. £20 (meal deals available).
Even on a Sunday matinee, award-winning Maria Friedman gave it all she's got - and certainly made one elderly gentleman's day – in her new solo show. Summoned from the front row, he was roped into dancing with the versatile songstress – and certainly fared better than another chap plucked from the audience to taste one of Mrs Lovett's gruesome, pussycat-filled pies in a comic song from Stephen Sondheim's Sweeney Todd. Backed by an eleven-strong band, Friedman's expressive voice floods the intimate auditorium with an eclectic range from Purcell to Suzanne Vega, by way of Randy Newman, Leonard Bernstein and Irving Berlin. Sometimes the "rearranging" goes a step too far – You Are My Sunshine sounds almost miserable. But Kate Bush's The Man With A Child In His Eyes is a heartfelt treat and, even in a whirlwind rendition of Jacques Brel's Play The Song Again, every word is crystal clear. Friedman has, apparently, selected the songs from among her favourites, and (though her links sometimes irritate and her choices might not all be to your taste) you can't help but admire her range – dramatically, vocally and (as she moves easily from comedy to heartbreak) emotionally.
Menier Chocolate Factory, 53 Southwark Street, SE1 (020-7907 7060). Until May 4. £20 (meal deals available).
Sunday, 6 April 2008
Major Barbara - TNT
George Bernard Shaw displays his social conscience in this century-old depiction of a father and daughter with opposing beliefs. What begins as an old-fashioned drawing room comedy develops into a strong dialectical drama in which the views of a dedicated young Salvation Army major are challenged by the reappearance of her estranged millionaire father. Simon Russell Beale is mesmerising as the thoughtful but manipulative munitions manufacturer Undershaft who hasn't forgotten his foundling roots and forces Barbara (Hayley Atwell) to face up to the uncomfortable fact that philanthropy comes in different guises. And, while Nicholas Hytner's production makes it clear that weapons are a deadly curse, his capitalist venture proves far more effective in helping the poor than her tea, teetotalism and sympathy.
Olivier at the National Theatre, South Bank, SE1 (020-7452 3000). Until July 3. £10-£30 (part of the Travelex £10 season)
George Bernard Shaw displays his social conscience in this century-old depiction of a father and daughter with opposing beliefs. What begins as an old-fashioned drawing room comedy develops into a strong dialectical drama in which the views of a dedicated young Salvation Army major are challenged by the reappearance of her estranged millionaire father. Simon Russell Beale is mesmerising as the thoughtful but manipulative munitions manufacturer Undershaft who hasn't forgotten his foundling roots and forces Barbara (Hayley Atwell) to face up to the uncomfortable fact that philanthropy comes in different guises. And, while Nicholas Hytner's production makes it clear that weapons are a deadly curse, his capitalist venture proves far more effective in helping the poor than her tea, teetotalism and sympathy.
Olivier at the National Theatre, South Bank, SE1 (020-7452 3000). Until July 3. £10-£30 (part of the Travelex £10 season)
Bliss -TNT
French-Canadian playwright Olivier Choinière's one act play (translated by Caryl Churchill and originally entitled "Félicité") is certainly unusual. But the behaviour of the audience was perhaps even more revealing. As weentered the auditorium, everyone was handed a blue Wal-Mart jacket with a smiley yellow face on the back and the instruction that it had to be worn during the performance. Surprisingly, just about everyone complied, no questions asked.
Presumably the idea was to turn us into mirror images of the on-stage characters – four Wal-Mart employees who, on a suitably drab washroom set, speak to us through a frame. Fascinated by tawdry gossip magazines, theyrecount, first, the farewell performance and subsequent pregnancy of Celine (by implication, Celine Dion) then enter more nightmarish territory as they interweave her story with that of Isabelle, an abused, bed-ridden fan. Only later does it become apparent that these are the warped fantasies of Hayley Carmichael's Caro, a strange, solitary girl whom her colleagues dislike and who believes she emanated from the spewed insides of Isabelle. Nasty.
It makes for an uncomfortable if well-acted evening which, though self-consciously clever, still struggles unsuccessfully to engage.
Royal Court Theatre Upstairs, Sloane Square, SW1. (020-7565 5000). Until April 26. £15 (£10 on Mondays).
French-Canadian playwright Olivier Choinière's one act play (translated by Caryl Churchill and originally entitled "Félicité") is certainly unusual. But the behaviour of the audience was perhaps even more revealing. As weentered the auditorium, everyone was handed a blue Wal-Mart jacket with a smiley yellow face on the back and the instruction that it had to be worn during the performance. Surprisingly, just about everyone complied, no questions asked.
Presumably the idea was to turn us into mirror images of the on-stage characters – four Wal-Mart employees who, on a suitably drab washroom set, speak to us through a frame. Fascinated by tawdry gossip magazines, theyrecount, first, the farewell performance and subsequent pregnancy of Celine (by implication, Celine Dion) then enter more nightmarish territory as they interweave her story with that of Isabelle, an abused, bed-ridden fan. Only later does it become apparent that these are the warped fantasies of Hayley Carmichael's Caro, a strange, solitary girl whom her colleagues dislike and who believes she emanated from the spewed insides of Isabelle. Nasty.
It makes for an uncomfortable if well-acted evening which, though self-consciously clever, still struggles unsuccessfully to engage.
Royal Court Theatre Upstairs, Sloane Square, SW1. (020-7565 5000). Until April 26. £15 (£10 on Mondays).
Thursday, 3 April 2008
THE MAN WHO HAD ALL THE LUCK - This is London
Watching Sean Holmes' fine production of this early play by Arthur Miller, it's hard to believe that it ran for only a handful of performances when it premiered in New York in 1944. As in his later works, Miller raises issues about the elusiveness of the American dream, damaging father son relationships and the unpredictable unfairness of life. Subtitled ‘A Fable’,it follows the uncannily good fortunes of David, a young Midwest car mechanic who thinks he has no special talent but somehow always comes out on top.
Watching Sean Holmes' fine production of this early play by Arthur Miller, it's hard to believe that it ran for only a handful of performances when it premiered in New York in 1944. As in his later works, Miller raises issues about the elusiveness of the American dream, damaging father son relationships and the unpredictable unfairness of life. Subtitled ‘A Fable’,it follows the uncannily good fortunes of David, a young Midwest car mechanic who thinks he has no special talent but somehow always comes out on top.
Whilst his father obsessively grooms his younger brother Amos for baseball stardom, David, through a series of unlikely events, gets the girl (his childhood sweetheart Hester), builds several successful businesses and sets up home. Over and over, David appears to flounder, then miraculously floats – a tricky repair has him foxed until Shaun Dingwall's Gustav appears like a highlyskilled angel who lets him take the credit; Hester's dad (having threatened to shoot him if he so much as set foot on his land) dies suddenly in a freak accident. But all around him he sees others suffering and, each time he makes good, he becomes more and more frightened that his run of luck is about to break and a major catastrophe will follow.
There isn't a weak performance in this excellent and engrossing revival which keeps you constantly on tenterhooks. Andrew Buchan's David progresses from carefree lad to increasingly troubled husband, Michelle Terry's loving Hester leaves her girlishness behind as she watches her husband's mental disintegration, and Felix Scott's Amos, forced to face a cruel reality, weeps for a wasted youth he can never recapture.
Donmar Theatre
There isn't a weak performance in this excellent and engrossing revival which keeps you constantly on tenterhooks. Andrew Buchan's David progresses from carefree lad to increasingly troubled husband, Michelle Terry's loving Hester leaves her girlishness behind as she watches her husband's mental disintegration, and Felix Scott's Amos, forced to face a cruel reality, weeps for a wasted youth he can never recapture.
Donmar Theatre
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