Cindy Marcolina - Page 6

Dodie Smith’s comedy is revived in a desaturated production that crackles with deliciously sly humour. Emily Burns directs a series of majestic tableaux that, while wordy and excessively traditional at times, offer an authentic slice of polite society. It’s not the most action-packed or dramatic piece in existence, but Dear Octopus turns out to be like a classic vintage wine: it’s sophisticated and might be an acquired taste, but it ultimately gets you jolly like only wartime entertainment can.

Jermyn Street’s Footprints Festival continues with the UK debut of an Italian modern classic. Written by Cristina Comencini in 2006, Two Rounds is a melancholic exploration of female solitude and human anguish.

The local NHS Child and Adolescent Mental Health Service facility has a new temp, but Jay’s bright eyes and hopeful attitude grate against Angela’s 30 years’ worth of experience. This Might Not Be It confronts the issues that plague our national health services with an excavation of their human fallout.

Three women live parallel lives on the same London street. One desperately wants a baby, one regrets her choices, one is haunted by the past. Michèle Winstanley addresses motherhood and the female experience in a tender piece that becomes a sad reminder that, as women, we rarely fully win.

Directed by Anastasia Bunce, it’s knotty in parts and it partially loses its visual identity halfway through. The eloquent, physical interludes (by movement director Tessa Guerrero) that acted as scene changes and added an extra inch of inventiveness suddenly stop happening in favour of duller in-and-out moves in semi-darkness.

All in all, Cowbois isn’t a bad play. It’s a fun and gimmicky queer-affirming semi-comedy that makes for a good night out if you’re willing to close an eye here and there. It’s weird and long, but it means well.

What did our critic think of KIM'S CONVENIENCE at Park TheatreIn July 2018, a little series titled Kim’s Convenience was released internationally on Netflix.

Betty Parris and Abigail Williams’ lives are ruled by suspicion and spiritual insulation, where even playing is considered a sin. Everything changes when the latter starts working on John Proctor’s farm. Part of Jermyn Street Theatre’s Footprints Festival, The Good John Proctor bookends The Crucible, taking all its themes and putting them under the lenses of childhood. Regrettably, it’s underwhelming, muddled, and way too long for what it is.

Now, we’re not here to tell you how to spend your money, so, by all means, if you want to see some people off the telly in real life, they’re discounting ticket prices left and right. However, be aware that there are better ways and better plays to invest cash on.

This self-identified “musical biography” doesn’t dig much further than the introduction paragraph of Turing’s Wikipedia entry. It’s contextually erratic and misses all the details that would make the audience fall in love with Alan rather than sit passively in front of him. The songs are unchallenging in both semantics and melody, while the narrative immediately becomes shallow and insubstantial. It’s a flawed, boring attempt at finding the next British theatre hit. 

Featuring music by Justin Hurwitz and elegant lyrics by Broadway babies Benj Pasek and Justin Paul, it stars Ryan Gosling and Emma Stone as its star-crossed lovers. The final chapter in the Royal Albert Hall’s Films in Concert series is a bona fide tear-jerker. Hurwitz conducts the Royal Philharmonic Concert Orchestra while Gosling and Stone fall in love on screen. It’s magical.

Running the Room isn’t a bible nor a manifesto. It doesn’t want to write a set of rules for directing plays, nor it wants to impart a Weltanschauung on how to become a director. It’s a source of inspiration and, more practically, a generous look into the practice of a selected group of people, who just so happen to be women.

Jack Thorne gives his audience a backstage pass in his new play, which has now transferred to the West End after a stellar run at the National Theatre. Helmed by Sam Mendes and starring all the original cast: Johnny Flynn as Burton, Mark Gatiss as Gielgud, and Tuppence Middleton as Elizabeth Taylor. Their roaring, gripping success continues.

It would be interesting to see the show free from all the fancy listening gear so we can bask in the thrill of seeing Tennant and Jumbo grapple with their actions without a middleman. After all, isn’t part of the beauty of theatre that the audience isn’t separated from the story by a screen of any kind? The run is sold out (as it should be!) and they’re probably already in talks for a transfer (as they should!), but one wonders if this is actually what the future of drama is: a Shakespearean ASMR experience that will be dubbed as immersive. Fair is foul, and foul is fair.

The Hall knew what they were doing when choosing their festive programming. All decked out with shiny trees and classy wreaths, it welcomed young and old in their most cheery gear. The sparkliest, reddest crowd with the most interesting and creative jumpers were eager to watch their favourite elf.

Michael Dylan, Dave Hearn, and Amy Revelle share the comic timing of long-time friends. Strategically precise physical languages and a penchant for a quick, perfectly calibrated comeback make Steven Canny and John Nicholson’s a good-natured, lighthearted comedy. There are a few lulls in the first act, but these are rightfully outnumbered by energetically random bits that will have the crowd howling. Just what the doctor ordered these days.

Matthew White’s latest creation is stunning and Sondheim’s score remains beautiful. White doesn’t pull any punches when it comes to condemning the actions depicted, though at the very end his vision seems to suddenly shift all the violence into the necessary evil that kick-started Japan’s technological advancement. Questionable, but interesting.

It’s finally December, and there’s nothing British theatre does better than one-off festive entertainment. London has started swarming with mince pies, Christmas shows, pantos, and jolly gigs. In preparation for a pre-recorded stint on the radio later in December, recording artist and broadcaster Clare Teal joined the BBC Singers for a lovely night of show tunes and cheer. From Cole Porter to Stephen Sondheim, from Richard Rodgers to Irving Berlin, it was a bona fide walk through the who’s who of musical theatre with an added dash of Christmas nostalgia — a delightful production in all aspects and the perfect kick-off to the Advent. 

Richard Schoch explores what daily life would have been like in the Shakespeare household and how the buildings that surrounded him have become hotspots. He describes how the unassuming residence on Henley Street was turned into a museum in the 19th century, long after the deaths of its original inhabitants, cementing the turn in the playwright’s popularity after the snub of the 1700s.

All in all, Two Strangers is a pleasant night out for the rom-com lovers: it romanticises The City That Never Sleeps and leaves the audience with a delightful ending that solves very little of the plot. It won’t change the world of musical theatre, but it’s nice and fuzzy. Like a good pair of comfy Christmas socks.