Recently, at the theatre...

Four great shows, four great evenings. Here, have some typical Hannah reviews (i.e. capslock and feelings and objectification, probably).

The Tempest @ The Globe
Globe, Globe, Globe ... spiritual home, bringer of endless joy, tridecagon of boundless wonder. I shall never tire of it, and was particularly excited about its season-opening production of The Tempest owing to the casting double whammy of Colin Morgan and Roger Allam. Merlin and Peter Manyum? Why, if you insist.

I was never going to dislike the production, with a cast like that and a long-held affection for the play after studying it for A Level (not to mention my Globe-blindness), but it completely exceeded my expectations. Much as I like the play, it is undeniably dry and not one of Shakey's strongest or most exciting. However, the text was eked for as much humour as possible with spectacular results - a charming, magical and warm production, it was a delight from start to end.

Allam's Prospero was, of course, a BEAST of a man - at once commanding and fatherly, and not as cruel as I've seen previously, which was lovely. His interactions with James Garnon's wonderfully ape-like Caliban were less abusive, more piteous - as a softy at heart, this pleased me. Moreover, Prospero's relationship with his daughter was particularly touching, with a star turn from Jessie Buckley too - her wide-eyed, playful Miranda was particularly lovely. Paired with Joshua James' bumbling, puffy-chested, adorable Ferdinand, the two brought a charm to the lovers I've never seen before. Gorgeous.

Jessie Buckley, Joshua James and PROSPERALLAM.

Nautrally, Colin Morgan's Ariel was going to be a highlight for me (tunnel vision, what can I say?), and he was pretty damn magnificent. I wonder whether the Merlin writers had him on some kind of magical diet, because he seems to have grown, bulked and aged about ten years since the show ended. Sprightly and ethereal, he wound his way around the stage effortlessly, and the less said about the whole upper-body-strength thing the better - this blog should at least attempt to be PG13.

Big pimpin'.

Boosted by spending a gloriously sunny day with friends in London, The Tempest was dizzyingly delightful and engaging from start to end.

Taming of the Shrew (Propeller Theatre Company) @ Sheffield Lyceum
This...was a weird one, and warrants a shorter review. I love Propeller - their productions are bright and smart and moving and always well-staged. Taming is always going to be a troublesome play, and I feel like it can be done one of two ways: 1. Kate is as complicit in the interactions as Petrucio is, and they play off each other to find a relationship that works for both of them, or 2. the domestic violence angle is exploited in an attempt to make a point, and exemplify its horror.

I prefer the first, no question, but I can see why you might attempt the second, as Propeller did. Their portrayal was incredibly well performed, particularly by Dan Wheeler - painful and uncomfortable to watch as it should be, there's no doubting the talent involved. I just couldn't get on board with the decision to play it like that. Firstly, alongside the bawdy comedy of the Lucentio/Tranio/Biondello subplot (which was undoubtedly well done again, and had me frequently in stitches), it seemed jarring and uncomfortable, but not in a good way. And secondly, though they amped up the play-within-a-play idea in order to pull away from it at the end, leaving Petrucio/Sly shamed and judged by the players for his awful behaviour, it wasn't enough for me. There wasn't enough overt condemnation of his behaviour to make me comfortable with the way it was played out.

I thought, for a time, that the portrayal was made worse by the fact that it was an all-male cast; but the more I thought about it, the more I wondered whether an all male company were, in fact, the only people who could do justice to such a storyline - the depressing truth being that it takes the overt abuse of a man at the hands of another man to really bring home the suffering Kate endures. It could have been too cruel were Kate played by a woman, and the strength of a man overpowered by Petrucio's cruelty may work to make the realisation all the more shocking.

I just don't know with this one, kids. It left a bad taste in my mouth, and I still can't get my head around why.

This House @ National Theatre
God bless NTLive, the National Theatre's endeavour to screen some of their biggest shows in cinemas up and down the country, and abroad. When I had a steadier job and income, I was back and forth to London an obscene amount, and was lucky enough to see loads of shows. These days, it's far more infrequent, and several live shows have passed me by - much as I'd prefer to see the shows in person, having NTLive to fall back on is a gift.

Particularly for a show like This House, which I would have been utterly foolish to miss*. Set in Whitehall between 1974 and 1979, it dramatises the inner workings of government during the period of hung parliament which saw the two leading parties grasping for as many votes as possible to push their policies through. We see the progression through the eyes and actions of the Chief Whip's offices, as they seduce the 'odds and sods' of fringe parties to their side, desperately trying to get the elderly, incapacitated and infirm into the House to make sure their policies are passed. The play cleverly backgrounds the rise of Thatcher in the Conservative party, which of course takes on a new poignancy watching it now, and the NTLive production featured an interview with Baroness Ann Taylor, who is herself portrayed in the play - and who paid testament to the play's accuracy.

Much as they present fictionalised versions of events, This House and shows like The Thick of It have both shed light on areas of government I never would have given a thought to before - whips, spin doctors, the men and women behind the faces we see everywhere. It's simultaneously fascinating and unnerving to see the cogs in the machine, even more so to realise those cogs are human beings.

Photo by Johan Persson.

A pacy, vibrant, smart and hilarious production with moments of real tenderness and honesty and some brilliant visual effects and choreography, it was a real tour de force from newbie writer James Graham. The cast of main characters were faultless, with the relationship between Charles Edwards and Reece Dinsdale's Deputy Whips in particular a delight, and the rapid accent, clothing and facial hair changes from the supporting cast being pretty damn impressive too.

Reece Dinsdale and Charles Edwards (photo by Johan Persson)

I could talk more about other aspects of the politics of the play that intrigue and unsettle me, like the change in the social makeup of the labour party since the 70s, and the heightened policy-based idealism these politicians seemed to have, as opposed to the glory-hunting that seems to pervade politics these days. This House hints at both these issues and more without thwacking you over the head with a sledgehammer. It directly played into my interests in changing class politics, and made me more determined to pursue study of it further.

Obviously, I can hardly say 'make sure you get tickets!' now the show itself has finished, but gosh it was worth seeing.

The History Boys @ Sheffield Crucible
If you think I am capable of being in any way objective about a production of The History Boys that stars one of my favourite actors in one of my favourite roles, then you are sadly mistaken. I will, however, give it a damn good shot.

When I heard about the Sheffield Crucible (one of my favourite theatres) putting on a production of the History Boys (my favourite play), which was going to run through June 7th (my birthday) and would star Will Featherstone (one of my favourite actors) as Scripps (my favourite character), I was honestly a little bit concerned that someone had been stalking my subconscious, because that it quite literally everything I love. Then finding out that Oliver Coopersmith was taking the role of Posner opposite Matthew Kelly's Hector? Well, I snapped up tickets as soon as humanly possible. There's always a wariness with something that, on paper, sounds so great - what if it doesn't live up to my preposterously high expectations? But in this case, I just knew it would. I had complete and utter faith, and I was not let down.

Will Featherstone and Scripps, in rehearsals. I had ENTIRELY PROPORTIONATE reactions to this photo. (Photo by Robert Day: source)

It. Was. Brilliant. Fast-pased, dynamic, dazzlingly kinetic and energetic, it was a production full of youthful exuberance with its feet planted firmly in the 80s. I concede, with a text this strong it's hard to go wrong, but there was so much newness to the play which meant it was, to me, entirely invigorated. The movement of the sets was cleverly done and refreshed every scene, emulating that clattery desk-and-chair noise only found in secondary schools. The dance and music breaks were wonderful, and the boys themselves moved around with pure teenage vibrancy, as if the soles of their very feet were itchy and they couldn't stand still. The metre-stick-boom and satchel-camera employed during the film recreations; the constant action at the back of the stage; Dakin's earring - all these little touches added to the raucous youthfulness of it all.

Photo by Robert Day: source

And still the play kept its gorgeous moments of poignancy and heartbreak. Posner's reward, the funeral, Hector's breakdown, "the best moments in reading..." - all gorgeous, as they should be. It's also wonderful to see lines you know backwards as fresh as ever, garnering huge laughs from the audience; Ross Anderson's delivery of Rudge's immortal "one fucking thing after another" went down a storm.

The performances (and accents) were excellent all round - Coopersmith's petite Posner, all buttoned up in his duffel coat, was heartbreakingly good, and I was not let down by Featherstone's charming, whip-smart Scripps (who's ability to playing a moving piano was particularly impressive).

Oliver Coopersmith as Posner (Photo by Robert Day: source)

The stand-out performance, though, was Tom Rhys Harries' Dakin, who entirely reinvented the character in my eyes. Other productions have recreated Dominic Cooper's swaggering, old-before-his-time dickbag - not a bad thing of course, as Cooper's portrayal is brilliant. But Rhys-Harries brought Dakin back to school. Younger, gentler, more wide-eyed, this was a Dakin who was still, ostensibly, a boy, who was just as lost as the others, just better at pretending not to be. There was a tenderness and timidness there I hadn't seen before, and it was wonderful.

Tom Rhys-Harries as Dakin (Photo by Robert Day: source)

There's a reason this is my favourite play, and stagings like this are the a reason I'll never tire of it.

***

*I say that having now seen it, so if I had missed it I would have no idea what I missed, but shh with your logic.