Giant at Harold Pinter Theatre

In the flurry of theatre announcements that I get, several every day, I somehow either missed Giant when it was on at Royal Court or I did not appreciate how good it would be so I was pleased when the positive reviews and sold-out run were followed by a west end transfer to Harold Pinter Theatre.

Fairly obviously, I think, the fanfare was due to John Lithgow's sward winning performance. That was my interest too though, perhaps unusually, because of his roles in Dexter and Cliffhanger.

I was quick at the second time of asking and managed to get a good seat, Balcony A9 for a very respectable £40.

Despite being up in "the gods" the view was good, helped by having all the action at the front of the stage. It was also less vertiginous than other similar seats that I have been in, thanks to a solid safety rail.

The story, such as it was, covered Roald Dahl's published views on Israel, which were based on his own direct experience, and how these were edging towards anti-semitism. 

The topic was controversial then as it is now with Israel again bombing neighbouring countries and that topicality made the historical story very relevant.

While the jury is out on Roald Dahl there is no doubting the quality of the script or of John Lithgow's performance. This was top-grade theatre and that it left such a controversial question still open at the end is to its credit.

The Hills of California at Harold Pinter Theatre

A few things had to fail and to work for this evening to happen.

It was my birthday so I was looking for a special show to see and my default option, a Matthew Bourne ballet at Sadler's Wells, was thwarted by the show finishing earlier in the month. I was rescued by a new Jez Butterworth play opening on my birthday and ATG offering club members decent prices.

I was quick to book and secured three seats in the centre of the front row of the Royal Circle for £55 each. Clearly a good deal.

Of course I had to find a suitable venue to eat beforehand and with my sister joining us the usual vegetarian Indian across the road from the theatre was not an option. A quick search came up with the swanky and moderately priced Masala Zone on Piccadilly Circus. It proved to be an excellent choice, the food was superb and different, the service was exemplary and the ambience was perfect. I will be going back!

The view from my seat was very good and I settled down for a show that was expected to run to a little over three hours, with breaks; hence the 7pm start time.

The scene was the private quarters of the Sea View Guest House in the wrong part of Blackpool (it does not have any sea views) where four sisters are gathered on the imminent death of their mother. As they reminisce they talk about when they were girls and their mother was building them into a singing troupe modelled on the (three) Andrews Sisters.

After a while the stage rotated and took us back in time to the same room when they were girls.

And that is about it.

As with the other Jez Butterworth plays I had seen (Jerusalem and Ferryman) there was a lot of talking, some of it funny some of it dark, but little in the way of action. That may sound like a thin meal but then nothing happens in Waiting for Godot either. The Hills of California relies on its dialogue and with Butterworth the dialogue is more than enough. The two and a half hours or so are thoroughly engaging, helped by excellent performance all round from the women and the girls.

I wanted something special for my birthday treat and The Hills of California was just that.

Oslo at Harold Pinter Theatre was theatrical magic

It was not a conscious decision to avoid seeing Oslo when it first arrived at National Theatre, it just failed to get any traction with me at the time. Then the reviews arrived and the decision was taken away from me. I think twice about going above £30 for a theatre tickets (I go c150 times a year, you do the sums) but I was happy to push the boat out spend £46 for Royal Circle Row A Seat 9. A great seat for a fair price.

I had been put off Oslo by its dry subject mater, a behind the scenes look at the Oslo Accord between Israel and the Palestine Liberation Organisation signed in 1993. This was a bit unfair as I had seen the similarly themed A Walk in the Woods twice, most recently at the Tricycle Theatre in 2011.

The basic idea, devised by a Norwegian academic, played by Toby Stephens, was to have semi-formal talks by fringe players that well out of the public eye and that both sides could plausibly deny were happening. Only when a deal was close would the leaders of both sides become involved and only once a deal was reached would the negotiations become public.

The story revolved around the negotiators, who had a natural distrust for each other, and the facilitators who were concerned about running the talks behind the USA's back. There would be political and personal consequences for everybody if things went wrong. The negotiations were held behind closed doors and nobody, not even us, was allowed to see what was going on. Most of the action, if action is the right word, took place in an ante-room where they retired for breaks or stormed into when negotiations got difficult.

A potentially dry story was given bundles of life by the characters in it. They were all serious in intent but, being people, they all did human things like make silly jokes and comment on the foreign food. The diversity and humanity of the many characters was one of the play's strengths.

Somehow a story that we already knew the ending to effortlessly filled three hours with griping drama. That effortlessness was created by superb theatre craft where all the tricks of the trade were skilfully deployed. It was professionally expert theatre that used that expertise to make an easily approachable drama. It was easy to see why it was a success.

Oslo is every bit as brilliant as the people who say it is brilliant say it is.

Death and the Maiden

Death and the Maiden was another joy brought to me via an email offer.

These come think and fast. Some I accept, most I refuse. And the ones that I do accept are usually spur of the moment decisions, "I fancy that" moments.

So when the time comes to go to the show the spur is long gone and forgotten. Part of the joy of the show then comes from trying to remember why I chose to go there in the first place.

The "there" this time was the Harold Pinter Theatre, which I been to twice previously this year when it was called the Comedy Theatre, and I suspect that the reason that I went was the "Olivier Award winning" tag.

On my previous visits I sat in the stalls but this time I was up in the circle. Even cheaper than that I went for a seat at the end of a row which had slightly obscured view. Giving up the right to see part of the stage where nothing happened saved me £10 on the seat next to me. Result!

Death and the Maiden is set in an unnamed Latin American country (the author is Chilean) that has recently emerged from military rule and is now stumbling towards democracy.

Part of this is a truth and reconciliation committee established by the new president. A leading human rights lawyer is appointed to the committee and this is a major career break for him. Immediately after the announcement he returns to his beach house and his wife.

He is delayed by a puncture but is rescued by a good Samaritan, a doctor, who has a spare and a jack (the lawyer's wife gave his away to her mother). The doctor turns up at the beach house to return something to the lawyer and is persuaded to stay for the night.

Things take a sinister turn in the morning when the wife confronts the doctor accusing him of being part of a group that had detained and raped her under the old regime. She then tries to extract a confession from him, tying him up and brandishing a gun to do so, while her shocked husband argues that proper justice, of which he is now a significant part, should be allowed to take its course.

The three then discuss, debate and dispute the past and how to deal with it.

The doctor proclaims his innocence throughout but give a couple of hints that he may be guilty even though the evidence against him is little more than consequential, such as his having a tape of Schubert's Death and the Maiden in his car which the wife remembers from her captivity.

As the words fly between them we learn more about the past, how it has changed them all, and we confront the difficulties of reconciliation for a nation through this specific example with its representatives of the wronged, the accused and justice.

The play takes place in one scene, the beach house, and has just the three actors. Thandie Newton (MI: 2), Tom Goodman-Hill and Anthony Calf (New Tricks) are all superb.

Death and the Maiden skilfully combines a plot that grows and surprises with a close examination of the political and personal realities of oppression. It may have been written about 70's Latin America but it translates easily to today and to the recent conflicts in countries like Libya and the Ivory Coast.