THEATRE REVIEW: Georges Feydeau’s ‘A Flea In Her Ear’

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By Ray Bennett

LONDON – The best way to perform farce is to be perfectly serious and in the Old Vic’s revival of the Georges Feydeau French classic “A Flea In Her Ear”, Tom Hollander plays two roles with such perfect gravity that they are hilarious.

Translated in 1966 by John Mortimer, the late English novelist and playwright who created “Rumpole of the Bailey” and scripted the 1981 TV miniseries “Brideshead Revisited”, it’s a scandalous romp about a Parisian society wife at the turn of the 20th century who gets the notion that her husband is having an affair.

As Raymonde Chandebise (Lisa Dillon) tells best friend Lucienne Homenides de Histangua (Fiona Glascott), it’s one thing for her to enjoy an extra-marital dalliance, but for her husband to do is “is going too far”.

Hollander plays her husband, Victor Emmanuel, a prim and pompous insurance man, whom she plots to catch red-handed by sending an anonymous invitation from an admirer for a rendezvous at a well-known hotel of ill repute called Le Coq D’Or. She gets Lucienne to write it but it falls inevitably into the wrong hands, not least those of Lucienne’s volatile Spanish husband, Carlos (John Marquez, pictured, left, with Hollander).

As a consequence, both couples and assorted other roués and their paramours end up at the garish hotel in a frantic round of musical beds and doors with multiple misunderstandings. To further complicate matters, the hotel porter, a sad-sack drinker named Poche, is Victor Emmanuel’s double. In both roles, not only must Hollander join the others in mad dashes about the stage, but also disappear offstage frequently for extraordinarily quick costume changes.

The diminutive actor (“Pirates of the Caribbean”, “Pride and Prejudice”) is a gifted physical comedian and he succeeds in not only making the two characters quite distinct but also as the farce develops in showing they have some traits in common. Hollander is responsible for most of the laughs as director Richard Eyre makes Feydeau’s clockwork plotting race along with exquisite timing.

Some of the comedy derives from character traits that are non-PC these days, such as the speech impediment of earnestly randy young Camille Chandebise, who has a cleft palate, and Carlos, whose English is minefield of tongue-tied Spanish. But Freddie Fox, as Camille, and John Marquez, as Carlos, play them with such sympathy and innocence that it becomes impossible not to laugh.

Dillon and Glascott give the conspirators appropriate flourish and feigned outrage and Rebecca Night catches the eye as a pretty and knowing hotel maid amongst a cast of talented performers who know the best jokes are told with a straight face.

Venue: The Old Vic, runs through March 5; Cast: Tom Hollander, Lisa Dillon, Tim McMullan, Fiona Glascott, Oliver Cotton, John Marquez, Freddie Fox, Rebecca Night; Playwright: Georges Feydeau, translated by John Mortimer; Director: Richard Eyre; Set designer: Rob Howell; Costume designer: Sue Blane; Lighting designer: Mark Henderson; Music: Stephen Warbeck; Sound designer: Gregory Clarke.

This review appeared in The Hollywood Reporter.

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THEATRE REVIEW: Alan Ayckbourn’s ‘Seasons Greetings’

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By Ray Bennett

LONDON – Alan Ayckbourn’s parochial English comedy Season’s Greetings seeks to burst the illusion of happy families at Christmastime but the set-up and characters are so contrived that it runs like a clock that needs winding.

Nothing is introduced without leading inexorably to its clunky pay-off. The noisy toy wrapped with the other presents under the tree will go off at the most inopportune time; the all-purpose remote control will trigger loud music in the middle of the night; the amateur puppet show will collapse.

It’s the same with the characters: the ageing virgin sister will wail; the drunken husband with the pregnant wife will have his comeuppance; the sister-in-law who drinks too much will drop the Christmas mouse; the comely hostess will want to bonk her sister’s handsome young visitor; and the mad uncle with the gun will shoot somebody.

The players are all game but the play’s predictability soon becomes wearing, the ensuing chaos phoney and the laughter forced.

Venue: National Theatre, runs through March 13; Cast: Neil Stuke, Catherine Tate, Jenna Russell, David Troughton, Mark Gatiss, Nicola Walker, Marc Wootton, Katherine Parkinson, Oliver Chris; Playwright: Alan Ayckbourn; Director: Marianne Elliott; Set designer: Rae Smith; Lighting designer: Bruno Poet; Music: Stephen Warbeck; Sound designer: Ian Dickinson.

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FILM REVIEW: Brian Welsh’s ‘In Our Name’

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By Ray Bennett

LONDON – A sober portrait of a returning soldier who suffers from post-combat stress, “In Our Name” holds suspense without melodrama and features an outstanding performance as the British Army private by Joanne Froggatt (pictured). Continue reading

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THEATRE REVIEW: Emma Williams shines in ‘Love Story’

x650 Emma Williams (Jenny) and Michael Xavier (Oliver) Photo by Manuel Harlan

By Ray Bennett

LONDON – Those for whom Arthur Hiller’s 1970 tearjerker “Love Story” is the hallmark of mawkish manipulation will be amazed to learn that Erich Segal’s original novella has been turned into a delightfully elegant and satisfying stage musical. Continue reading

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THEATRE REVIEW: Derek Jacobi in ‘King Lear’

KING LEAR by Shakespeare,By Ray Bennett

LONDON – It’s always an event when a great actor decides finally to take on “King Lear” and, at 72, stage veteran Derek Jacobi, also known for film roles and TV series such as “I, Claudius” and “Cadfael,” has taken his time. It was well worth the wait.

Directed by Michael Grandage on a stage of whitewashed planks at the Donmar Warehouse, Jacobi claims the heart of a role that demands fiery rage, addled bewilderment and tender acts of forgiveness.

Filled with anger, betrayal, blinding and murder by poison, rope and blade, “King Lear” is the original horror story as Shakespeare depicts a timeless family rife with jealousy, greed and a craving for power.

The king embodies it all having fathered two daughters who inherited every vile and callous trait, and only one who reflects the loyalty and love that resides within. Gina McKee as Goneril and Justine Mitchell as Regan are siblings from hell as they hide their rabid ambition beneath cloaks of femininity and grace. McKee gives Goneril the air of a woman superior in guile and the ability to bend men to her will while Mitchell lights up in giddy fever given the chance to take out the eyes of the loyal Gloucester. Pippa Bennett-Warner makes young Cordelia the picture of long-suffering innocence.

Paul Jesson brings credible bluster to the gullible Gloucester as his illegitimate son Edmund, a swaggering Alec Newman, conspires to take his land and title, and older son Edgar, made almost nakedly savage by Gwilym Lee, seeks refuge in the wild countryside. Director Grandage is aided greatly by Christopher Oram’s simple wooden design, which allows Neil Austin’s lighting to flare through the cracks to vivid effect. Composer Adam Cork’s sound design provides all the sweep and crash of battles and storms, and the blessed relief of birdsong in the morning.

All the elements combine brilliantly when Jacobi delivers Lear’s speech in the storm – “Rage! Blow! You cataracts and hurricanoes.” Rather than bluster at full voice, the actor speaks in a harsh but clear whisper illuminated from below. The effect is to heighten the king’s intimation of the madness that becomes soon manifest as Goneril remarks, “Old fools are babes again.”

Jacobi captures that insanity with whimsy and the simplest of kind gestures made ragged by sudden impulses as when he gives imaginary cheese to a mouse that’s not there and then stomps on the non-existent creature.

In total command, he raises his tone to the rafters in anger and then swoops it down peacefully to a vocal caress. In banter with his Fool, played by Ron Cook with the utmost sadness, and when he holds the dying Cordelia in his arms, Jacobi defines the uncomprehending muddle that is mankind.

Venue: Donmar Warehouse, runs through Feb. 5; Cast: Derek Jacobi, Gina McKee, Justine Mitchell, Pippa Bennett-Warner, Michael Hadley, Paul Jesson, Alec Newman, Ron Cook, Gwilym Lee; Playwright: William Shakespeare; Director: Michael Grandage; Set designer: Christopher Oram; Lighting designer: Neil Austin; Music and sound designer: Adam Cork.

This review appeared in The Hollywood Reporter.

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THEATRE REVIEW: Katie Mitchell’s ‘Beauty and the Beast’

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By Ray Bennett

LONDON – The creature in director Katie Mitchell’s Beauty and the Beast at London’s National Theatre is a great hairy beastie, a 10-foot cross between a rat and a wolf with a voice that growls and thunders like Darth Vader.

On fur-clad bouncy stilts, Mark Arends makes him both perfectly scary for 8-year-olds and vulnerable and sad. Sian Clifford plays the spirited and sometimes selfish beauty who is very slow to catch on that inside the monstrous figure is a handsome prince waiting to get out.

Together they render the fable as a frightening, funny and warm entertainment for youngsters.

Mitchell has devised the show as presented at a music hall where the Master of Ceremonies is a Man in Pink played with sinister glee by Justin Salinger. He has a much put upon French assistant named Cecile (Kate Duchéne), whom he abuses freely, which encourages the kids in the audience to cheer and boo as the case may be.

There’s also an odd-looking assistant in a fright wig named Rabbit (Kristin Hutchinson) who users a Rube Goldberg-type of contraption called a Thought Snatcher – a tin hat at the end of a pole with a light bulb on top that’s placed on someone’s head – that lets the audience hear what characters are thinking. At one point the device is turned on members of the audience to amusing effect.

The Man in Pink relates the back-story of how the young prince became a beast after being cursed by a fairy and may only be saved by a woman who loves him despite his appearance. It’s a simple and honorable sentiment grasped easily by young children who holler their support for various characters as the 90-minute show (plus an interval) progresses.

Mitchell enhances the tale with effects that include elegant and witty shadow puppetry, videos, a live fireplace, and magic tricks. To bridge the gap between the stage and the screen technology children have at home, Mitchell includes a pause button – more like a railway crossing lever – that can also rewind the action. It adds to the charm of a show that is good fun without the need to be loud and boisterous.

Venue: National Theatre, runs through Jan. 4; Cast: Sian Clifford, Mark Arends, Justin Salinger, Kate Duchéne, Sean Jackson, Kristin Hutchinson; Devised and directed by: Katie Mitchell; Text: Lucy Kirkwood; Set, costume designer: Vicki Mortimer; Lighting designer: Jon Clark; Sound designer: Gareth Fry; Music: Paul Clark; Movement director: Joseph Alford; Puppets: Matthew Robins; Video: Fifty-nine Prods.

This review appeared in The Hollywood Reporter.

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THEATRE REVIEW: ‘The Invisible Man’

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By Ray Bennett

LONDON – Nifty tricks by illusionist Paul Kieve, acrobatic performances, a smart sound design and an actor fully dressed with gloves and a bandaged face, combine to make the title character palpable on stage in the Menier Chocolate Factory’s merry musical comedy thriller, “The Invisible Man.”

Kieve’s party pieces involve a glass of wine, a knife, a quill, a newspaper and a revolver that all float free in the air; a book-filled roll-top desk that seems to ransack itself; and the matronly, apron-clad bosom of a stout pub landlady that dances independently.

Best of all, he has the invisible man take off his bandages and gloves while smoking a cigarette and stages the venerable illusion in which a man disappears from a box. There’s also a lovable dog on a postman’s cart that barks, begs and bites, and draws some of the loudest laughs.

Playwright Ken Hill presents the H. G. Wells tale shrewdly as the production of a local amateur dramatic troupe in 1904, which allows the all-pro cast to ham it up and also is a safe cover should any of the gags go wrong, which they don’t.

The show is more of a festive romp than something destined to follow to the West End the Menier’s innovative revivals of musicals including “Sunday in the Park with George” and “Sweet Charity.” It is entertaining, but it would benefit from funnier lines, and at 140 minutes including one interval, it threatens to outstay its welcome.

Paul Farnsworth’s versatile set design allows the action to move from inside to outside a village pub where the bandaged stranger (John Gordon Sinclair) arrives to take a room and get up to no good. Surprised and outraged villagers include Maria Friedman as the landlady; Natalie Casey (pictured, right, with Sinclair and Friedman) as a screeching, randy maid; Jo Stone-Fewings as a local squire who knows more than he lets on; Christopher Goodwin as the squire’s valet, who has been everywhere and seen everything; and Geraldine Fitzgerald as a stern but sympathetic, pipe-smoking Scottish schoolmarm.

Sound designer Jason Taylor gives Sinclair’s voice a rasping and sinister delivery, and he places his speakers around the small theater so that the invisible man seems to pop up all over the place, even in the audience. Kieve has the last laugh in the sympathetic climax with another effective gag in the way the title character is finally revealed.

Venue: Menier Chocolate Factory, runs through Feb. 13; Cast: Maria Friedman, Jo Stone-Fewings, Geraldine Fitzgerald, Teddy Kempner, Natalie Casey, Michael Beckley, Gerard Carey, Christopher Godwin, John Gordon Sinclair; Playwright: Ken Hill, based on the novel by H. G. Wells; Director: Ian Talbot; Illusions: Paul Kieve; Set designer: Paul Farnsworth; Costume designer: Matthew Wright; Lighting designer: Jason Taylor; Sound designer: Gareth Owen; Music: Steven Edis; Choreographer: Sam Spencer-Lane.

This review appeared in The Hollywood Reporter.

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THEATRE REVIEW: Sheridan’s ‘The Rivals’

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By Ray Bennett

LONDON – If Mrs. Malaprop did not exist (in fiction) someone would have to invent her. The trouble with Richard Brinsley Sheridan’s 18th century comedy of manners “The Rivals”, given a jewel-box revival at London’s Theatre Royal, Haymarket, is that he did invent her, and while the occasional malapropism can be an amusing thing, a torrent of them soon wears thin.

Treated with dainty reverence by director Peter Hall, the production features performances as fastidious as Christopher Woods’ eye-pleasing period costumes but what might have been satirical and funny in 1775 appears insufferably precious and irrelevant today.

Written 100 years before Oscar Wilde arrived to show him how to do it, Sheridan’s play features the silly affairs of two couples embroiled in affairs of the heart complicated by parental wishes, societal conventions and cold hard cash.

What might once have been seen as a tasty confection that lampoons the sobriety, false piety and prejudices of the upper classes, now appears lame and pointless. Largely, that is because it simply isn’t funny. What passes for wit, is laboured and dated, and the cast of mostly British TV veterans pitches it directly to the audience with a jolly nudge and wink.

Penelope Keith and Peter Bowles (pictured), who starred together in the late 1970s BBC-TV sitcom “To the Manor Born” (broadcast in the United States by PBS), star respectively as Mrs. Malaprop and Sir Anthony Absolute, and they nail every vowel and consonant as the fussy elders of Captain Jack Absolute (Tam Williams) and Mrs. Malaprop’s ward, Lydia Languish (Robyn Addison).

Tom Cruise look-alike Williams and pretty blonde Addison pose and bluster as the young Absolute pretends to be a poor ensign in order to win the heart of Lydia in secret only to discover that the woman his father has arranged for him to marry is the very same Miss Languish. O, the hilarity!

Meanwhile, a country squire named Acres (Keiron Self) and a bumptious oaf named Sir Lucius O’Trigger (Gerard Murphy) also lust for Lydia, which is understandable but a bit distressing since she is only 17.

The Captain’s solemn friend Faulkland (Tom Gardner) tortures himself with jealousy over his beloved, Lydia’s cousin Julia (Annabel Scholey) while chirpy servants Fag (Martin Bishop) and Lucy (Carlyss Peer) participate in various deceptions. The laboured machinations lead to a duel that is resolved to just about everyone’s satisfaction.

The oddest thing about the play, and perhaps it is Sheridan’s best joke, is that no one reacts to Mrs. Malaprop’s garbled language. They appear to understand her gibberish and never raise an eyebrow, let alone point it out. She’s relentless, and to stick through the length of the play will require a glutton for punishment.

Venue: Theatre Royal, Haymarket, runsthrough Feb. 26; Cast: Penelope Keith, Peter Bowles, Tam Williams, Robyn Addison, Carlyss Peer, Annabel Scholey, Tony Gardner; Playwright: Richard Brinsley Sheridan; Director: Peter Hall; Set designer: Cordelia Monsey; Costume designer: Christopher Woods; Lighting designer: Jason Taylor; Sound designer: Gregory Clarke; Music: Mick Sands.

This review appeared in The Hollywood Reporter.

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Thinking of Renée on her birthday

Renee Rich and I had happy days in the 1980s and we spoke regularly all the years afterwards. She died at home in Memphis on Christmas 2006.

Where I walk, and life is warm
Sun and breath, hopefully here
All our hearts are blessed.
Southern Butterfly and you.

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THEATRE REVIEW: ‘The Master Builder’ at the Almeida

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By Ray Bennett

LONDON – When conscience and vanity come wrapped up in a package as enticing as Gemma Arterton, it’s no wonder that Stephen Dillane is mesmerized in the title role of Henrik Ibsen’s metaphoric fable “The Master Builder” in a riveting new production at London’s Almeida Theatre.

Arterton has made a splash in films as a doomed Bond girl in “Quantum of Solace”, a bewitching princess in “Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time”, and a head-turning writer in “Tamara Drewe”. Earlier this year she managed to keep pace with the exquisite comic timing of Tamsin Greig in the West End production of Douglas Carter Beane’s “Little Dog Laughed”.

master builder x325In Travis Preston’s dynamic production of the Ibsen classic, in a translation by Kenneth McLeish, she achieves new heights with a performance of ravishing intelligence as the young woman, Hilde, who arrives out of the blue to flatter, beguile and torment the successful architect Solness.

Wrapped in oversized men’s trousers torn at the thigh and a shirt unbuttoned at the belly, Arterton makes Hilde a captivating mix of idealism, fantasy and bone-chilling truth as she reminds the powerful architect of the time he held and kissed her as a child and promised her a kingdom with castles in the sky.

Solness has arrived at a point in life when he has become anxious over the ruthless way in which he exploited others and profited from the death of children in a fire on his way to success. He toys with partners young and old, and barely speaks to his weary and forlorn but dutiful wife Aline, played with imposing stillness by Anastasia Hille.

Dillane plays Solness as a self-involved and self-righteous man who loves the sound of his own voice. His sense of privilege encourages his gullibility as Hilde spins colorful images that could be half-remembered or wholly invented.

When she chides and praises Solness into doing the one thing he hates, which is to climb to the perilous top of a new high building and place a garland there, it’s hard to know if it’s balm for his wounded soul or the purest mischief. As his fate plays out, there is Hilde, panting and grinning, all wide-eyed wonderment, or possibly malevolent satisfaction.

Venue: Almeida Theatre, London; Cast: Gemma Arterton, Stephen Dillane; Playwright: Henrik Ibsen, in a translation by Kenneth McLeish; Director: Travis Preston; Set designer: Vicki Mortimer; Lighting designer: Paul Pryant; Sound designer: John Leonard

This review appeared in The Hollywood Reporter.

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