Design For Living @ The Old Vic Theatre
I was very pleased when I heard The Old Vic was producing a revival of Noel Cowards 1933 play Design For Living. Quite the Coward fanatic, Design For Living has always been one of my favorite works. Of course, you always worry about whether a new production will get the right tone; will the actors truly get to grips with, not only the sheer amount of words per sentence, but the very specific rhythm of Cowards dialogue? Will the director manage to appease Coward purists whilst still presenting a production suited for modern mainstream audiences? And will the astute observations on human morality be brought to the surface or sacrificed in a sort of half mocking, high farce as often seems to be the case with modern Coward productions (bizarrely, this particularly seems to happen when adapted for film)? Fortunately, this production, well directed by Anthony Page, scores pretty high on all counts.
The play essentially revolves around a sort of menage a trios between the three main characters Leo, Otto and Gilda (The relationship pretty well summed up in a line of dialogue by Leo ‘I love you. You love me. You love Otto. I love Otto. Otto loves you. Otto loves me. There now! Start to unravel from there.’) The play follows these characters and their partner swapping rebellion against social convention from bohemian Paris through to the high rise apartments of Manhatten all the while dishing out hilarious witticisms and acute observations on love, high minded moralists, lust and, of course, selfishness. It’s comments on love are fair and true, asking questions about how realsitic monogamy is in the face of human desire and whether the idea you can’t truly love more than one person simply stems from society’s conditioning? Questions that for a show put on the heavily censored stage of the 1930’s, make this play very ahead of its time. However, and this is sometimes overlooked, the play seems equally as critical of the reckless attitude of those who completely act on the whim of their self motivated desires. This production with it’s more subtle approach seems to allow these arguments to battle it out naturally rather than inflict its own reading of the play upon the audience. For every outburst which seems to see Coward embracing the relatively modern idea of free love, such as Otto’s impassioned speech when seducing Gilda in the second act ‘ But the whole point is, it’s none of their business. We’re not doing any harm to anyone else. The only people we could possibly mess up are ourselves and that’s our lookout… To deny it would be ridiculous, and to unravel it impossible, Therefore, the only thing left is to enjoy it thoroughly, every rich moment of it, every thrilling second…’, there’s another that seems to acknowledge a carless selfishness of which Coward is quite critical, this was displayed by Leo when breaking the news of his affair to Otto ‘ You don’t suppose we enjoy telling you, do you? If it wasn’t that we loved you deeply, both of us, we’d lie to you indefinitely, rather than inflict this horror on ourselves… we’re having just as bad a time as you are, probably worse!’. This is quite interesting, as it seems to reflect the dual personality Coward occasionally diplayed. On the one hand rather forward thinking and liberal, on the other very conservative, with a stong view point of society rooted in middle class values. If I had time, there is so much more to explore in this truly brilliant play satirizing all the petty, and eventually insignificant, hang ups we as a society create for ourselves. Coward earned his nickname of ‘The Master’ and this play proves him to be one of the great observers of human nature writing for Theatre in the twentieth century.
The performances were all on point. Lisa Dillon captures the essence of Gilda superbly, playing her as rather restless and also, somewhat concerned about whether she, as the only woman in this relationship, is on equal footing. Tom Burke, as Otto, plays the dependency on this three way relationship very well, really making it come through in a way a lot of actors forget when caught up in all the language. The real standout for me was Andrew Scott as Leo, his comic timing was incredible, a slight change in the tone of voice or the right physical gesture had him always ready to provoke laughter from the audience, this whilst always keeping a line that never betrayed the emotional realtionship his character shared with the others, So yeah, all in all Anthony Page has directed a remarkably succesful revival of a great play, a play which should be placed up there with the best of Coward (It remains my personal favorite). Definitely recommended.
The Brothers by Paul O’ Neill/Duck VariationsBy David Mamet @The Old Joint Stock
A couple of years ago I caught a production of Harold Pinter’s The Lover by an independent Theatre company. It was a quite remarkable production by a group of actors who handled Pinter’s particular and delicate use of language seemingly with ease, but I was also struck by the venue itself, The old joint stock Theatre based alongside colmore row in Birmingham’s city centre. An elegant venue, with the hustle and bustle of people merrily drinking away the woes of a working week downstairs providing something of a relaxing atmosphere before heading upstairs to the studio Theatre, where an even merrier, sort of, haven of art exsisted amongst the escapist attitudes of drinking gamers that, by the majority of people in the building, inhabited the place. So, I was quite eager to revisit the venue for the debut production of Theatre Company Duck Brothers productions, a dual revival of Paul O’ Neill’s The Brothers and David Mamets Duck Variations.
The evening kicked off with The Brothers, a short one act by a writer I’m not too familiar with by the name of Paul O’ Neill. It’s essentially a black comedy about two Irish Brothers, who come from a family of butchers and run a butcher shop themselves, who are now living in New York. Breaking the fourth wall, the whole play follows the relatively simple, if hard to acheive, struture of these two brothers, Matt and Pat, explaining to the audience, through humor, the rather weird pact they made with their live in house maid Mary in regards of how they would dispose of her body if she died (This show really isn’t for the particularly quesy). The Brothers is well written and rather funny but doesn’t really add up too much. Then, who says it has too? It’s an audience pleasing, well directed, funny hour of Theatre. The performance of Henry Amphlett and David Rex as the two brothers was spot on. Their comic timing was great and, most importantly, they had the right amount of brotherly chemistry. All in all, it was an enjoyable piece.
After a short interval, here came the reason I bought my ticket, David Mamets Duck Variations. When reading early Mamet, Duck Variations had always been one of my favorite of those younger, becket inspired Mamet shorts, of course, as it is rarely revived these day’s, I’d never seen it performed. Like so many other writer’s before him, Mamet has kind of lifted Becket’s Waiting for Godot, only here, its two older guys in a park discussing ducks as a subtext for deeper more profound thought. I was struck by just how different the Mamet we know now has grown from the Mamet of yore. I could imagine todays more conservative, plot driven Mamet deriding a young writer for penning such an open ended, ambiguous piece as pretentious and not concerned enough with ‘Getting asses in seat’s’. Which of the two Mamet’s is right- or more exciting- of course, is subjective (and something which, I personally am always indecisive about). David Rex does a good job with George, giving a studied, understated performance Mamet would approve of but, for me, it was Dean Taylor who impressed most as Emil. Playing Emil with the right amount of uncertainty, indecisiveness and sort of wandering charm he asks the audience of its most emotional responses. Both Actors managed Mamet’s poetry well and with care; as always, you could sit and simply listen to Mamets dialogue for hours on end, whilst Mamet’s pholosophy might change from time to time his musical use of language never does. Duck Variations is still my favorite of those early Mamet shorts even if, unlike present day Mamet, it refuses to tackle things head on and sometimes allows its audience to confuse ambiguity with the profound. What it does have is a sense of unpredictabillity, a sense of excitement that, perhaps, some of Mamets later more well structured work has lacked. Anyway, who cares what Mamet you’re getting, its Mamet and pretty much everything he has ever written is worth the price of admission.
Enron @ The Birmingham Rep
Lucy Prebble
One of my major, personal dissapointments of the last year was that I didn’t make it down to London to catch Enron, the much acclaimed dramatisaztion of the american financial scandal by dramatist of the moment Lucy Prebble. So, of course, I was filled with anticipation and delight when, flicking through my regularly posted Birmingham Rep brochure, I found Enron was not only going on tour but visiting my beloved hometown. I quickly booked myself a ticket and counted the days until I would finally see the theatrical experience everyone is talking about. Then, the nerves started to kick in. So hyped is Enron, that I felt I must be setting myself up for some sort of let down; it couldn’t possibly match up to the ridiculous expectations that broad sheets of all stripes had instilled in me. So happy am I, then, that I can report with glee that Lucy Prebble’s master stroke of a play did just that.
What Prebble does so well, other than share Sorkin’s knack for making issues of finance and politics actually entertaining aswell as informative, is build a true dramatic momentum. This, of course, you could say is the job of any playwright, surely? Yes, but many’s the time I’ve sat in a Theatre (or Cinema) during a play meant to be tackling the issues of our time and, whilst the observations have been acute and sometimes profound, found them to be didactic and boring. What makes this play so great is not simply its deep understanding of corparate greed but it’s use of the theatrical form to its full potential. This is a play presented as a song and dance show, with quick dialogue, physical comedy and audience asides combined, steeped in the vaudevillian tradition. Make no mistake, Enron couldn’t have taken place anywhere other than the Theatre. That been said, its fast pace and quick changing scenes no doubt take some influence from Lucy Prebble’s time spent in television and certainly add to the dramatic momentum I mentioned earlier. The cast are excellent too, Corey Johnson perfectly captures the growing arrogance of Jeffery Skilling, Paul Chahidi’s knack for physical comedy makes the slimy, intelligent, awkward, anti social CFO Andy Fastow a treat whenever he’s onstage and Sara Stewart, who plays Skilling’s rival and sometimes sex partner Claudia Roe, always delivers whenever I see her.
Of course, one can’t ignore how Prebble has managed to take a financial scandal that has baffled many a top economic analyst and break it down to surprisingly simple levels for her audience. No one will leave this Theatre without some understanding of what went on. What makes her critique of Capitalism so scathing is that this isn’t some left wing rant from the sidelines, no, Prebble observes precisely how human it all is and how intrinsically linked to human nature it’s more morally dubious practices are. She also examines, particularly through Skilling’s philosophical outlook, how powerful self delusion can be. Most importantly, in my opinion, and perhaps others would disagree, she isn’t all that judgmental in her observations. Enron is certainly a play that will remind you why the Theatre is still the greatest medium.
David Mamet: Theatre
‘If Theatre were a religon, many of the observations in this book might be heritical’ warns David Mamet in the opening chapter of his new essay collection Theatre. This statement is hardly surprising to anyone who has read any of Mamet’s previous books on stagecraft, particularly the rather controversial attack on modern acting theory True and False. Mamet, like many of the characters who inhabit his plays, is a refreshingly outspoken guy; a writer with no time for pretension and who certainly doesn’t suffer fools gladly, In fact it’s these very attributes which prove him better equipped than most when it comes to writing about Theatre.
Let’s be honest, many of the books written on acting, writing or stagecraft in general can be quite tiresome to plow through. Usually, five pages are taken to make a point where a paragraph would suffice, these pages are often filled with high flown theory’s that sound good when lecturing a student but rarely prove themselves to practical when actually putting on a play and these books don’t very often make for an entertaining read. This is where Mamet comes in, even if you flat out can’t stand what he’s saying, I am in little doubt that you’ll be turning the page eager to be infuriated further. Then, what do you expect from a writer of Mamet’s standard.
Much of this book attack’s what Mamet perceives to be an over intellectualizing in the Theatre world. His particular pet peeves seem to be with the ‘Method’ approach to acting. Strasberg, the Addler’s and Meisner get it in the neck and even (Shock horror) Stanisvlavski. Whilst I do agree with Mamet on some of what he says in this area, many a method actor can ruin a brilliantly written play by adding in unnecessary ticks and back story, I fear he can sometimes get a bit carried away; the idea that acting should be unemotional and purely mechanical would rob the Theatre of some of its most electrifying moments, that been said he is right that an actor shouldn’t be taught to rely on emotionally driven performances. His views on the director too; I agree that the best directors, like actors, simply interpret the text and don’t clog it up with overblown directorial flourishes but at the same time, the idea that we leave it to the cast and , perhaps, do away with the director all together might be overdoing it just a bit. There’s a sense, however, that this is intentional, that Mamet the dramatist is as equally at work here as Mamet the essayist and he certainly knows how to get a rise out of his audience.
It’s easy to misinterpret what Mamet is saying at times; In his review for The Times Benedict Nightingale seemed to think that Mamet was somehow anti the political play simply by saying a Playwrights first job is to serve the audience. What Mamet was actually attacking was what he label’s the ‘issue’ play, the critical love of which Mamet views as a misunderstanding of drama. He defines the ‘issue’ play as a lecture that has no power to unite ‘For as much as we hail the correct proclamation of the apparent truth, we, the audience, have had no experience together. We, the audience, were merely stuck at a lecture’ some of David Mamet’s best plays may have been political but I don’t think you could say anything he has written made you feel as if you were stuck at a lecture and whilst Nightingales review maybe right in saying that Glengarry was written in reaction to what Mamet saw as ‘the social and economic ruthlessness of Reaganism’, it is most certainly a play that entertains first and simply observes whislt not coming across as overtly partisan. This, of course, is the point; Mamet isn’t saying a play shouldn’t have substance but that it’s primary purpose is to provide compelling drama for the audience. A play, like most art, should entertain; anything else is a pleasant, added bonus.
If I have a real area of disagreement with the philosophy explored here it is that of subsidized theatre. Quite simply, without some sort of state subsidy’s pretty much none of the great plays of the twentieth century would have been produced, from Death of a salesman, The Homecoming, Look back in anger, Waiting for Godot to, no surprises, Glengarry Glen Ross. While Mamet may be correct in pointing out some of its flaws (but really what doesn’t?) such as beaurocracy; the truth is that a sloely commercial theatre industry would be too scared to take risks on new writing, meaning that any idea of a theatrical competetive ‘free market’ just wouldn’t exist.
To be honest, I always thoroughly enjoy reading anything this true master Playwright has to say; there aren’t many out there with the real knack of cutting through the crap like Mamet does. He may be to authoritative in tone for some but really someone of his standing deserves to be and anyway, who would read a book like this written by someone indecisive and timid. Frankly he’s common sensical, more practical approach is genuinely useful and grounded in the reality of forty or so years in the Theatre. Surely, there isn’t anyone who could seriously disagree with his underlying philosophy that the question of art is anything more high brow than ‘How does it serve the audience?’.
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