The Visit at National Theatre was captivation and surprisingly funny

It is not unusual for me to forget why I have booked to see a show but this time I even denied that I was going when asked a few days beforehand! It was only when I flipped the electronic calendar over to the new week that I was reminded of my decision to go.

That decision would have been based on the play's synopsis (Claire Zachanassian, improbably beautiful and impenetrably terrifying, returns to her hometown as the world’s richest woman. The locals hope her arrival signals a change in their fortunes, but they soon realise that prosperity will only come at a terrible price.) and the presence of Hugo Weaving from The Matrix and many other lesser films. National Theatre was another draw as they certainly know how to put on a show there and have the technology to do so.

That was enough for me to push the boat out a little and go for Olivier Circle seat A23 at £49.

Learning the The Visit was almost four hours long was a surprise too but The Lehman Brothers had been very long too and that was brilliant so I was more cautious than worried.

The play quickly set into a pleasing routine. The story was gripping, the characters interesting, the dialogue surprisingly funny and the set excellent. The story moved slowly allowing the dialogue plenty of space to play and dance and the time flew past.

Lesley Manville was extraordinary as Claire Zachanassian, the woman making the visit and the award nominations will flood in. I don't know when or why the change was made but in the poster she has brown hair which became white on stage. The white hair really worked as it made her look even more striking than her dress and demure already did.

Hugo Weaving was good too though he had less to play with and he never once said, "Mr Anderson". I would have added a new character just to get that line in.

The setting, an American town that had seen better days, was topical even though it was set around sixty years ago. The hope the townspeople had for their visiting billionaire must be like that many American's had for the man they (somehow) elected as their President.

If anything the story was the weak point of the play and the ending seemed somewhat unnatural but the ending was not the point, it was the long journey to get there that mattered and that was full of good things.

The Ocean at the End of the Lane at Dorfman Theatre was magical

Any adaptation of a Neil Gaiman story is going to be of interest to me even if it's a young adult story that I have not read and I was encouraged by seeing Coraline as an opera a couple of years ago.

This was my second visit to the new Dorfman Theatre in, but not really part of, the National Theatre complex so I knew that it was safe to go for the cheaper seats at the top level and I went for Gallery Row R Seat 44 at £34. You can see the view from my seat below.

Not having read the book I had no expectations but I soon learned that The Ocean at the End of the Lane was an otherworld story much in the mold as the excellent Stardust.

It was also a story of young friendships and very old daemons.

The story, as presented here, was fairly simple and without a narrator, or anyone thinking out loud, a lot of the beauty in the words in the book was lost (I know I've not read the book but I have ready plenty enough Neil Gaiman to know that there is beauty in the words here too). That sounds like a recipe for disappointment, and it almost is.

What lifts The Ocean at the End of the Lane from the disappointing to the magical is the staging; the sets change quickly and effortlessly, the daemons are real and scary, the sound and lighting conjure different moods and some of the set pieces are breathtaking.

The pyrotechnics may have been added to excite children, the play was advertised as suitable for ages 12+, but they were not there that night and, instead, it was a healthy mix of ages that were thrilled by the experience. It appeared to be a full house too.

The ensemble cast of little-knows (Googling now I find that I have seen a few of them on stage before) was excellent with most of them playing multiple roles, and not just multiple characters. The two "stars" were the boy and girl at the heart of the story and they were played superbly by Samuel Blenkin and Marli Siu. I was a little surprised when Samuel got a curtain call on his own when it was Marli who had impressed me the most, but it would be churlish to quibble about that too much.

The Ocean at the End of the Lane was a modern fairytale told in a rich and entertaining way.

Amadeus at National Theatre was a seriously nice birthday treat

January 27 was Mozart's birthday and it is also mine so going to see Amadeus on that day was an obvious thing to do. And being a special occasion I put my hands further into my pockets than usual and paid £58 for my seat Olivier Circle A71. At least I got a very good seat for that whereas in the West End that only warrants a restricted view seat in the Balcony.

The treats started before the show and I have the Terrace Restaurant there a try. Normally I only have time for a sandwich but this time I had an hour and a half to fill and eating a good meal was a good way to fill it. It's a tapas restaurant with plenty of veggie options and the hardest part was deciding what not to have. It was not cheap, just over £70 for the two of us (we did have Champagne), but I would definitely go there again.

I was aware of both the play and the film of it but had managed to see neither so went with few preconceptions, other than it was about Mozart and would be a spectacle in the way that Follies was. Both turned out to be true.

Mozart's fictionalised story was told to us by his rival Antonio Salieri (Lucian Msamati) who is featured in the poster because the story was more about him than Mozart. Mozart made up for being the second-string in his own show by being outrageous in dress and manner and I was absolutely delighted to see Adam Gillen play this role building on the character of Liam in Benidorm.

There was a second Benidorm bonus with the appearance of Hugh Sachs, the fourth time that I had seen him on stage altogether and the third in the last year and a half.

The staging of Amadeus was as I hoped and expected being both on a grand scale and with lots of attention to detail. I loved the movement of the orchestra and singers who shared the stage with the actors and also the way that Mozart seemed to spend more time standing, sitting or lying on top of the keyboards rather than playing them. Adam Gillen led the over the top antics to Lucian Msamati's straight man and other joined in the spirit to make this a highly entertaining show despite Mozart spending most of it worrying about money.

There was less music than I expected, it was in no-way a musical, but the music that was used was used wisely. It probably says more about my preferences than anything else that the two pieces that stood out were Il Commendatore's aria from Don Giovanni when he returns and the several segments from Requiem.

Amadeus was, like Follies, a modest story made exceptional by a production that pulled out all of the stops in every department from cast to costumers.

More Follies at National Theatre

It was not my idea for the company I work for to go to Follies for our Christmas treat but it was a good one and I was quick to accept my place despite, or because of, seeing it already.

This time I was up in the Circle, seat C65, and I chose the photo below as it is more or less the view I had. It was a great view and it was nice to see it from a completely different angle.

It was a strange experience seeing it again. I knew the story this time and that took some of the edge off. On the other hand I knew some of the songs and that gave me a chance to pay more attention to the lyrics. I also knew how the production was structured, with each character having a younger version of themselves, and could look out for this from the beginning.

The impact of the production was just as impressive the second time and I noticed quite a few little touches that I had missed the first time, partially because of the different view that I had and partially because there were just so many little touches to see.

In September I wrote, "The story and music of Follies were good enough, if nothing special, and everything else about the production was excellent. Follies tried hard to be a spectacle and it succeeded.", and I stand by that.

The Red Barn at National Theatre was a tense treat

For several years I paid little attention to National Theatre seeing as rather expensive and somewhat mainstream and that is probably still true but I am now more willing to spend over £50 for a theatre ticket and am more appreciative of the mainstream, provided it is done well.

That lack of attention caused me to miss The Red Barn when it was first announced despite it being adapted by David Hare from a Georges Simenon story and staring Mark Strong which should have been enough to make me leap at it. As it was I only paid it attention when I was at NT to see something else and by then the run was sold out. And then the run was extended and I was quick off the mark for the additional tickets and helped myself to Lyttelton Circle A21 for £60.

The Red Barn started in a heavy snow storm and it was the best representation of a storm that I had ever seen on a stage. It was an excellent start and early indication of the high production values that I had come to expect from the NT.

In that snow storm two couples were battling to get to the safety and comfort of a house. Only three made it. One of the men lost contact with the other three and was left behind. Once in the house the others quickly realised that he was missing and the other man went out to look for him but returned after several hours having failed to do so. His body was found the next day.

The story then became more psychological than physical with the remaining man growing closer to the dead man's wife while flashbacks revealed more about the complicated emotional route that had led to the scene at the house. The plot weaved and jumped and so did my feelings towards each of the characters as flaws and strengths were shown.

A play that relies heavily on the nature of the characters also relies heavily on the actors and The Red Barn had a storming cast led by Mark Strong, Hope Davis and Elizabeth Debicki. Expect award nominations.

To say that I was engrossed in the drama was an understatement and I was desperate to learn what had gone on in the past (including some doubts over the death in the storm) and what would happen next. And what happened next was a big surprise.

I was enticed to see The Red Barn because of the big names involved and they all delivered to create a drama that was tense and also a treat.

The Threepenny Opera at National Theatre was brutal and stylish

The National Theatre was featuring more in my plans because while it was west-end expensive it was delivering the quality that justified that price tag. Even so, it was only a few of the productions that I found myself attracted to.

The Threepenny Opera attracted me because it was one of the classic plays that I owed myself to see and because it was by Kurt Weill. It was a significant bonus that this adaptation was by Simon Stephens who did the same job on the highly popular and very excellent The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time, though, to be honest, I prefer seeing his own plays to his adaptations.

The final plus was that it starred Rory Kinnear as Macheath, a.k.a. Mac the Knife.

All that was enough to make me fork out £40 for my seat Olivier Theatre Circle A52 £40.

The play opened with Mac the Knife in which we learned how Macheath earned his nickname. That set the tone for the evening with Rory Kinnear looking every inch the brutal and stylish gangster.

The other notable star of the evening was the stage that moved in all sorts of wondrous ways to create interesting spaces for the drama to unfold in. When you have a stage that can do clever things then it makes sense to do them as long as it enhances the drama, which it did her. Oddly it reminded me of the tricks the stage did in Port, a Simon Stephens written play.

Also worth a mention in a large and excellent cast was Haydn Gwynne as Celia Peachum, the wife of a gangster and the mother of Macheath's wife following a brief and unexpected relationship. I still thought of Haydn Gwynne as Alex Pates in Drop the Dead Donkey in the early 90's and she looked no different to me as she did then. She was superb in her role.

The Threepenny Opera took us through the criminal underworld with its strong characters, sleaze, petty machinations, rivalries, violence and changing loyalties. It was a compelling world and the characters' stories quickly drew me into it. The large cast was used skilfully and there was always a lot going on, a lot of stories to follow and a lot of characters to worry about.

The Threepenny Opera remained brutal and stylish throughout and was utterly entertaining too.

The Drowned Man at Temple Studios was grand but oversold

I went to see, or participate in, The Drowned Man with unusually high expectations.Not only did I see some reviews beforehand for a change but they were all very positive too. City AM, admittedly not known for its arts reviews, went as far as to call it "The year’s most spectacular theatrical extravaganza". I guess they do not get out much.

There is certainly much to admire. The scale is beyond impressive and the attention to detail is obsessive.

The event takes place over four floors (I think) that are divided into several dark and confusing places that you can walk around and through in any order that you like.

Some of the spaces are just bonkers. Places like the caravans in the woods which had several full-size caravans, lots of trees and enough bark on the floor to be a convincing woodland. Another space had sand and elsewhere there were some cars.The buildings I encountered included shops, bars, a kitchen, barbers, and studio dressing rooms. There were a lot more places that I found and a lot more that I am sure that I did not find. It was vast and hugely impressive.

Equally impressive was the intention to detail with all the spaces crammed full of things in the smallest detail from tins of peas to letters and from chess sets to drugs. To give just one example of the many many, in the doctor's surgery there were a lot of questionnaires on clipboards that had been completed, and on one of these the answer given to "what do you do after sex?" was "watch Grandstand". Just brilliant.

The vast size of the place and the masses of things to look at meant that the three hours of the performance was nothing like enough to see, or even to find, everything and so we all had to be selective on what we did and what we watched.

The one part that seemed to make any sense was the bar. A real bar where we could have a drink and relax with our masks off (we were all wearing Viennese masks, as you do). That semblance of reality slipped a little when one of the actors recognised me as one of the stars of a musical, Love Boat, and announced my presence to the whole bar.

We encountered several other actors in our wanderings, easily recognisable because they were not wearing masks, and they played out several little scenes for us, often passionate dances that veered towards fights.

What I found missing from this was any semblance of a narrative, let alone the double-murder one the brief guidance notes led us to expect. If The Drowned Man was trying to tell a story then it fell miserably but if it was just trying to immerse us in different worlds then it worked fine.

For scale it easily outclass the similar show In The Beginning was The End that I saw at Somerset House in March but I much preferred the earlier show because of its narrative, humour and sheer beauty in one of the scenes.

The Drowned Man had scale, complexity and a wealth of detail but it lacked direction and it lacked variety. It was still very impressive, just not as impressive as I expected.

People at the National Theatre (charming)

People has been recalled to the National Theatre after the initial run sold out. I was late to the game initially and missed the first run but I realised my mistake in time to get a ticket as soon as the second run went on sale.

Hence I managed to get a dead-centre seat in the Circle at a price about twice that I am used to paying for theatre tickets.

People has Englishness draped over it like a flag of St George during a football tournament. It is written by Alan Bennett, two of its main themes are the National Trust and the Church of England, and it stars National Treasure Frances de la Tour.

The theme is Chekovian. Lady Stacpoole's family have lived in the house since 1456 but now she lives in squalor and is trying to arrange a sale of heirlooms to raise some money. Her younger sister, a Deacon, has a different plan and that is to gift the house to the National Trust so that they can restore it while allowing the owners to carry on living there. Lady Stacpoole, who is close to being a recluse, objects to the NT plan because it would bring People in to the house.

Those People may be where the play gets its title but its energy and purpose comes from the People in the story. And there are a lot of them. Lady Stacpoole has a companion and an old flame who makes porno films. We also meet the cast and crew of one of these films, also a Bishop, an auctioneer and a terribly enthusiastic assessor from the National Trust.

Some of these people have dubious morals but they are all essentially nice.

The play is incredibly rich with so much going on, though all the action takes place in one room.

It would spoil the surprise to say much about what all the People talk about or do but I can say that the story is full of surprises and that none of these are unnaturally forced in to the situation just for effect.

This is the story of Lady Stacpoole and Frances de la Tour carries that burden with casual ease. She is stubborn, a little eccentric, and has retained her lover for life as characterised in the little dance shown in the official poster. There are a few leg waving dances to pop songs and each one brings smiles to the faces of the audience.

That audience knows that the play is targeted at them and they conform to their expected role laughing self-deprecatingly at all the witty comments about the National Trust to which they all belong.

People is maddeningly entertaining. We are skilfully manipulated to fall in love with the characters and despite knowing that we are being manipulated we willingly do so. The charm is effusive.

In The Beginning was The End at Somerset House

I found out about In The Beginning was The End more or less by accident.

News did not come through one of my many theatre related emails that I get every week (or if it was, I did not notice, it came from the always entertaining and informative Robert Elms podcast of highlights from his BBC Radio London show.

Two things about the show piqued my considerable interest; it was a promenade performance and, despite wearing the badge of the National Theatre, was performed in the lower levels of Somerset House. That combination was simply too interesting too miss.

By then the show had been running for a little while and was proving to be extremely popular. Luckily it was so popular that it had been extended by a few weeks and I was able to get tickets for the very last evening. At 9:35pm.

The day took some planning, and that included another show in Hampstead, a walk through Regent's Park (where it snowed), a curry at the India Club and a coffee and cake at Fernandez and Wells in the courtyard of Somerset House.

We entered In The Beginning was The End in groups of ten after a short briefing that did little more than warn us that there was some nudity and the photography was strictly prohibited. I wish that I had ignored the later as a trawl of the internet has failed to reveal any of the images that I was hoping to find, such was the secrecy around the show.

The theme of the show was the technology firm Fusion International.

Some of their technology was real and simple fun, such as the lemon-powered lights and the toy that shot soft missiles at you when you walked past. The fictional technology included Petbot (a small Metal Mickey) and a device to calm you down and (Tension Negating Technology). These went wrong.

The other theme was corporate life and we encountered, among many other things, a boardroom that flooded while the people in it calmly put on breathing gear, and another that tilted and slid the participants out of view.

There was a great deal going on across a lot of different media that the show defies classification. I've called it "theatre" and there was theatre, i.e. real actors, in it but there was also film, photography, music and installations, such as the large and dangerous looking Petbot hidden in a dark room.

There was a sense of direction through the performances but not a prescribed route as such and I soon lost contact with the other in my group while other paths criss-crossed. The sense of not know where I was, or how far through the promenade I was, or even whether I had seen all of it (probably not) all added to the mystery and excitement. 

With such a rich mix of things on display the evening is remembered as a series of fragments, of which these were two of my favourites.

A customer service department is racked with pressure. One colleague takes his clothes off and leaves. The others then do the same. Reading their PC monitors we can see the letters of complaint that they are having to deal with. These are both fu
nny and sinister.

My favourite room was empty apart from a loudspeaker playing a Bach cello concerto on continuous loop while through the large windows we could see two men repeatedly slowly falling down past the windows. It was hypnotic and beautiful. I could have stayed in there for ages rather than the long while that I had time for.

In The Beginning was The End was a unique experience that stimulated in so many unexpected ways. An evening to treasure.

Port at the National Theatre

I am not sure if it is the National Theatre's fault or mine that I do not go more often but somehow I associate it with safe and establishment and I prefer edgy and fringe.

I found myself back there through an unusual route. I was listening to the always excellent Robert Elms podcast and he interviewed Simon Stephens who wrote Port and who originated from Stockport where the play gets its name. What he said about the play was enough to convince me that I should go and see it, so I did.

Port tells the story of a girl, Racheal, growing up in difficult circumstances in a Stockport estate. We follow her, and her family, from the age of 11 to 24 through eight scenes.

The settings change from, for example, a hospital to a bus stop, smoothly with Racheal staying on the stage as it transforms smoothly around her. It is all very impressive and, more importantly, allows the story to move along without a break. This works very well even though, or perhaps because of, these smooth transitions in our real-time are leaps of several years for those on stage.

I do not want to give too much of the story away but it gives you some of the flavour of the play to know that a parent leaves, her younger brother gets caught up in petty criminality, a good friend dies, a marriage fails and another one is tested, and she moves away from Stockport for a while.

Through all the change the one constant is Racheal's resilient attitude that mixes street smarts with brash confidence. There are vulnerabilities in there too, she cares for her family and wants to be loved by somebody.

Kate O'Flynn plays Racheal and is utterly convincing as she ages 13 years before our eyes and moves through a heady mix of emotions. It's a wonderful performance and worth the entry fee alone.

The story is gritty, as it should be if it is meant to be taken as real life. It's something like Eastenders but set up north, with lots of swearing (it is meant to be taken as real life) and better acting. The grittiness persists throughout but so does Racheal's positive attitude and, despite everything, it is an uplifting story and a great pleasure to watch.

Exploring the National Theatre

I am pleased to say that Prince Charles and I disagree over lots of things, especially architecture. He created Poundbury which I find amusingly bad, it fits in with its area just like Disneyland Paris does, and he despises the National Theatre which I love.

I was back there recently to see a play, oddly enough, and arrived in good time to have a good rummage beforehand.

The reason that concrete was adopted widely and quickly is that it allowed architects to create interesting shapes and spaces that were beyond the constraints of traditional materials. I accept that all too often these freedoms were used to create dull tower blocks (not that all tower blocks are dull, far from it) so it is nice to be able to explore the National Theatre where the potential of concrete has been realised.

There are many things to like about to NT and I'll start with the way that it exploits it's location.

The frontage on to the river is a hierarchy of long windows with walkways in front so you can see and enjoy the river from inside the building and, when the English weather allows, you can enjoy the fresh air too.

The second great thing about the NT, inside and out, is that there are walkways, corridors and staircases everywhere and that makes the building very explorable, if somewhat confusing at times. Besides, confusing is a good thing because I like getting lost.

There are doors to the outside in several places on every level and these take you to new interesting spaces. Edging outside by the Olivier Theatre, and several levels up, I emerged in to an unexpected large space with plants and seats. From here the beauty of the NT is undeniable.

Moving around one of the many corners took me to a realm where the concrete clearly rules.

Here function rules and each block has its own secret purpose.

This is about as far away as you can get from the carpeted comfort of the inside and different paradigms are brought in to play. We are now in Gormenghast where long forgotten corridors lead to long forgotten rooms where long forgotten people used to live.

This place is just a few meters from the busy river and the bustling Waterloo Bridge yet it looks as though as nobody every comes here. Perhaps they don't.

Heading back toward the main block brought me to the business end of the theatre. Behind the windows on the right costumes are designed, cut, repaired, washed and ironed. But all is quiet on a Saturday afternoon and the quietness gives the impression that this is an abandoned city.

The National Theatre is an astonishing building that wears its age very well, possibly because it was built towards the end of the post-modernist period and after brutalism, and it is a real joy to explore its complicated and expansive spaces inside and out.

A Woman Killed with Kindness at the NT

Some good reviews and an offer on the tickets persuaded me to go and see A Woman Killed with Kindness at the National Theatre.

I had done my usual pre-theatre research, i.e. I had just seen it mentioned in some tweets, so it was something of a shock when the Upstairs Downstairs characters starting speaking in a Shakespearean manner with the prose containing old words and phrases as well as having a steady rhythm to it.

Another surprise was soon to come to me,
As the dialogue rhymed occasionally.

The play opens with a high-society wedding.

We meet some of the groom's friends and in their friendly banter a high-stakes bet is arranged concerning fine country pursuits involving horses and dogs.

The scene shifts to the other half of the stage where we see the house of the friend with whom the bet was made.

He arrives back from the wedding very drunk and is put to bed by his sister and staff. This is clearly something that they are used to doing.

The story starts with wedding bliss
But soon things start to go amiss.

The happy couple start off happily enough (though the wedding night itself was graphically grim) and soon the bride becomes a mother.

The trouble starts when a friend of the husband is invited to stay in their house for a while.

He fancies his chances with the bride,
And his advances are not denied.

Disturbingly this relationship starts when she is heavily pregnant.

Nearby things are not going much better.

The alcoholic brother has money troubles and the house is only kept going thanks to the careful management of his sister.

This includes selling some paintings.

A rich friend offers to clear the debt,
But only if wedding demands are met.

And so the tragedy unfolds. In one house a woman is cursed by her illicit relationship and in the other a woman is cursed by the need for money.

Seeing the two stories unfold side by side is very effective and the two hours slides past easily and the now out of date custom of having an interval is not noticed.

The twin tragedies (and the larger one in the title) may come as little surprise but its a good yarn carried along at a decent pace, delivered superbly by the cast and staged intelligently but not fussily.

There may be nothing exceptional about the play but there is nothing at all wrong with it either and what you get is a good solid show. And that's good enough any day.

Lots of laughs in London Assurance

I tend to get my theatre fix from the Orange Tree locally but an offer through work tempted me to go and see London Assurance at the National Theatre on the mere premise that it is a comedy and had Richard Briers in it.

It has been a long three years since I last went to the NT (for Coram Boy) but I found it refreshingly familiar with its interesting and unusual spaces created between brutal but beautiful blocks of concrete and its many terraces offering views across South London and the Thames.

However, I had forgotten the layout of the Olivier Theatre where the steeply raked seats meant that the person in front's head was about the same level as my knees. No worries about being able to see here!

London Assurance is a simple comedy that revolves around late middle-aged Sir Harcourt Courtly who is engaged to the eighteen year old Grace Harkaway for purely commercial reasons.

The first complication comes from Sir Harcourt's son, Charles, who also falls for Grace and the second comes from the larger than life fox hunting demon Lady Gay Spanker who catches Sir Harcourt's eye.

Farcical elements are introduced through Charles adopting a (very faint) disguise and from a local lawyer who keeps stirring things up in the hope of earning a fee.

The play dates from 1841 and so a lot of the comedy arises from the familiar platforms of class and the contrasts between town and country. This still works well despite the lack of resonance with today's world. I wonder how long this will last before we have a generation who simply do not understand the world that is being portrayed.

The humour, and there is lots of it, comes both from script and the acting which deliberately verges on melodrama. I especially enjoyed Grace (Michelle Terry) playing hard to get so that we the audience all knew what was going on but poor Charles was left bemused.

London Assurance is a solid comedy that is well presented by the NT and while it is never spectacular it is never weak either and the combination of play and venue made it a thoroughly enjoyable night out.

Coram Boy

One of the reasons for living in London is to have easy access to a wide variety of experiences, including the arts, and we make a reasonable effort to take advantage of this by going to museums, galleries, concerts and plays. And a few times every year we force some of this culture on our offspring and take them too.

Often this is over the Christmas period when there are, unsurprisingly, more things on that are suitable for children and they have less school work to do. This year we took them to see Coram Boy at the National Theatre. It was excellent!

Philip Pullman (whose Dark Materials we saw at the NT a couple of years ago), describes the play better than I could, "A rich and almost Gothic drama unfolds, full of dastardly villains, cold-hearted aristocrats, devoted friends and passionate lovers, and set against a background of cruelty, music and murder."

All I can add is that it kept our family of four, including two teenage boys, enthralled for three hours.