A More General Review

I considered today, that despite the privelage of seeing a numerous amount of shows a month to review, I still spend considerable time and money trying to make it to those special shows. I'm not ashamed to admit, Jekyll and Hyde is in my top 5 musicals (along with Phantom, Beauty and the Beast and...well anyway) and would have done anything to see it again at the Southwark Playhouse before it closes. I went to buy tickets only to discover that of course, it's sold out. And so it should be. But althought I've already seen it, it absolutely crushed me that I couldn't see it again. And this has prompted this blog post: what are those few shows that have stayed with me? And why?

MAY 2012: Jekyll and Hyde
This was just such a brave production, Morphic Graffiti absolutely pulled off an update and you know what? The little things which may have gone wrong here and there just didn't matter because this cast and crew finally did this stupendous musical justice!

MAY 2012: Misterman
There are few words I could use that could really evoke the brilliance of this production. After Ivanov, I'd say it's the best thing I've seen in the theatre to date. Rarely have I seen such astounding acting or compelling direction. I honestly cared for the protagonist in this production.

JAN 2012: 13
I didn't give this 5 stars. But this was such an important production for me. I have never ever ever been so politically moved by a play as this, I NEEDED to stand up and shout yes, agree with the character of John and hopefully lead a revolution, take the audience out into the streets preaching Bartlett's play. Now that's something.

There is a gap here between when I started reviewing, then found school required a little more of my attention than theatre, and then found theatre was my life and couldn't be more important than uni. And... my days were mostly filled by the Lord Of The Rings Musical which I never reviewed. There would be too much to say, I thought this was spectacular, I know a lot of people don't, especially purists, but it touched every heartstring, was beautiful, sounded beautiful. It was something otherworldly I doubt I'll find again.

FEB 2009: Three Days of Rain
This was another example of ACTING. When I write a play, I have to imagine the acting because the acting is half of the play. My words are nothing without the likes of actors like these.

JAN 2009: The Frontline
It's around this time I was beginning to see plays and realised dammit I loved them. The Frontline spoke to me as a Londoner, even as a newcomer to theatreland I could tell Walker was innovative with his speech, I was drawn into every character, every story, listened to every word like a willing puppet. That's storytelling. That was relative.

JAN 2009: Ivanov
It all began here. I'm adamant my review of this got me through GCSE and into drama school by making me look intellectual. The thing with Chekhov is it isn't about being intellectual, some of the conditions remain topical, some don't, but with this, my first heady clash with naturalism I learnt to believe. To this day, I've yet to cry so much in a theatre as during this, and this is because Branagh WAS Ivanov. THE most stupendous acting I've seen to date.

An interesting fact (a fact for companies to fear about this reviewer): I very, very, rarely give a standing ovation. It has to be out. of. this. world. for me to do this. It's not a case of being frigid about showing companies praise for their productions, I can see why shows that I'd consider four star deserve a standing ovation a lot of the time. It's simply my method of separating the men from the boys as it were.If I look back and think of the shows which I stood for I think of the shows which truly touched me. It's important I do this so that I can remember those stellar examples of why I do what I do, and what makes theatre magical for me.

13 ****

Imagine there’s a box. And inside that box is God. You can look inside, but be killed instantly afterwards; or live without knowing what’s waiting in the dark.

The question of this box dominates the set of Mike Bartlett’s newest play 13, in which everyone wakes up at the exact same time having had the exact same dream - or rather nightmare. At the centre of a swiftly moving re-imagining of nightmarish current events (student protests, war in the Middle East, riots), is John, a question in himself. A man who stands upon a bucket in the park preaching the power of belief, and rallying immense support as an internet sensation, Bartlett illustrates the place that social media plays in uniting our ‘protest’ generation. John (a welsh William Wallace played enigmatically by Trystan Gravelle) becomes the messiah of a new-age belief system: the power of the individual, working together for common good.

John argues that belief makes the individual and it is this multiplicity which the characters thrive upon as a unit and gives this play an incredible vivacity which absolutely captures this decade. One could argue that the cast and content is far too sprawling for any emotional engagement to leak through but the vignettes are so sophistically interwoven and extremely engaging to a relevant viewer (i.e. I could have started a student riot then and there). Bartlett’s play is one that makes you want to scream out (or like the pensioner does, throw a trolley at a bank) for the state we’re in. This is drastically contrasted with the stasis of the second half, more parliament than play, as John and the Tory Prime Minister debate the dichotomy of the country: is it right for thousands to die at war, if it will perhaps save thousands from death by nuclear weapons?

The thing hidden in the box is this grey area: the distinction between right and wrong. Mark Henderson’s moody blue lighting illustrates the dominating political backdrop throughout that is exactly that: a filter. The PM, played spot on by Geraldine James, is the manager of right and wrong, not the bringer; and must make unpopular compromises. As a reflection of this dose of reality, Thea Sharrock’s abstract conception of 13 terrifies the viewer with the idea of democracy is little more than a dream. Tom Scutt’s towering design captures the unease of events translated through the dark, hard images of insomnia. Thankfully the edgy animation of 13 reminds us that perhaps we have finally woken up and won’t let this nightmare haunt us any longer.

The artful combination of Sharrock and Bartlett is so contemporary there’s a Boris bike onstage and a pensioner singing Rhianna. 13 is simply unmissable, contextually the play of the decade.