Oranges Are The Only Fruit

NELL GWYNN

Crescent Theatre, Birmingham, Sunday 15^th September, 2019

 

The Crescent’s new season opens with this banger of a production from director Dewi Johnson.  The Ron Barber Studio is transformed to evoke a Restoration playhouse, with gilded columns, heraldic emblems and decorative friezes.  A purpose-built thrust stage puts us very much in the playhouse, while lending an intimacy to the offstage scenes.  Jessica Swale’s script from 2015 covers much the same ground as Jeffrey Hatcher’s Compleat Female Stage Beauty dealing with women being allowed to take to the English stage for the first time in the reign of Charles II, but Swale’s focusses on the biography of orange-hawker-turned-actress Nell.  It’s historical, pertinent, feminist, and a bit anachronistic – but it all adds to up to a lot of fun.

Johnson captures the highly stylised, mannered performance conventions of the age, in the play-within-the-play and rehearsal sequences, and there is much laughter derived from the range of competences on offer among the troupe that Nell joins.  Mark Payne is pitch perfect as the declamatory actor Charles Hart, with a voice as big as his ego is fragile.  Sam Wilson is a scream as Edward Kynaston, reluctantly yielding the female roles he specialises in to newcomer Nell.  Andrew Cowie, resplendent in a long-haired wig, brings a touch of Bill Nighy to his beautifully realised, long-suffering theatre manager, Thomas Killigrew while Graeme Braidwood appealingly portrays the playwright John Dryden as a nervous, somewhat dishevelled figure, clueless in the art of writing women – until he encounters Nell, of course.  Alan Bull convincingly imbues rod-carrying Lord Arlington with dignity, gravitas and a side order of menace, and Luke Plimmer is immensely likable as Ned, the ineffectual prologue and supporting actor.

There is some very strong character work too from the women in the cast.  Pat Dixon’s down-to-earth Nancy is positively hilarious; Alice Macklin gives us a Rose (Nell’s hard-nosed, red-cheeked sister) with conviction and heart; and Jaz Davison brings a comedic intensity to her cameo as Queen Catherine, endowing the character with fierceness while also arousing our empathy.  Joanne Brookes makes a strong impression in her roles as the snobby and pompous Lady Castlemaine, and the visiting French noblewoman, Louise De Keroualle.

The action hinges on the love story between Charles II, a casually hedonistic Tom Fitzpatrick, and our feisty heroine.  Fitzpatrick’s Charles, haunted by what happened to his dad, is more than a good-time Charlie; there is a human side to him in his declarations of love for his mistress, and it’s great to see him descend from his pedestal.

Laura Poyner rightly, perhaps inevitably, commands the stage throughout with her magnificent portrayal of the zesty Nell.  It’s a joy to behold her wisecrack her way up the ranks, and the songs bring us forward in time to the Victorian music hall – Poyner is wicked, cheeky and knowing, playing the bawdy humour for all its worth while remaining utterly charming throughout.  While the play lacks the emotional punch it needs to bring things to a head, Poyner works wonders with the part, and she is supported by an excellent company on all sides.  Special mention goes to musical director Christopher Arnold who gets some gorgeous choral singing from the entire cast.

The set, by the director and Colin Judges, along with the sumptuous costumes (by the director and Pat Brown, Vera Dean, Malgorzata Dyjak, Shannon Egginton) impressively capture the period feel, while the ebullience of the players keeps us engaged and amused.

Hugely entertaining, saucier than a bottle of HP, and a celebration of theatre itself, Nell Gwynn sets the bar almost impossibly high.  I can’t wait to see how the Crescent follows it up!

Nelly gives it welly: Laura Poyner as Nell Gwynn (Photo: Sorrel Price Photography)

Nazi Piece of Work

COLLABORATION

Crescent Theatre, Saturday 30^th March, 2019

 

Ronald Harwood’s 2008 play has, sadly, gained in relevance since its original appearance.  Set mainly in the 1930s, the play charts the working relationship and friendship between top composer Richard Strauss and writer Stefan Zweig whom Strauss enlists as a librettist.  All goes well.  The men establish a rapport but, in the background, the rise of overt animosity toward the Jews eventually encroaches on proceedings.

The first act is a rather gentle comedy, offering insights into the creative process, but things take a much darker turn after the interval, with the interference of the Nazis, represented here by Herr Hinkel.

Bill Barry is positively avuncular as Strauss, with Simon King’s Zweig as a more neurotic contrast.  Both are at their strongest when speaking with passion, about music, about principles, and Barry’s greatest moment (and the play’s sucker punch) comes right at the end when Strauss gives testimony to a denazification board (Spoiler: The Nazis lost the war).  Skye Witney comes into her own as Strauss’s spouse, putting the arrogant Hinkel in his place, while Emilia Harrild as Zweig’s secretary/main squeeze Lotte impresses as she recounts a violent assault.   At other times, the action is a little stiff.  When pleasantries are exchanged, the characters aren’t quite as convincing, and there are times when the blocking seems off with actors in entirely the wrong place for optimal staging.  I’m guessing this is because it’s opening night and points still need tightening up.

There is an effective cameo from Alan Bull as hotel intendant Paul Adolph.  As the arrogant, coldly efficient Herr Hinkel, the excellent Jack Hobbis is utterly chilling, exuding an air of evil through a thin veneer of civility, and we are reminded how this pernicious ideology insinuates itself into the world, before imposing its will and causing all sorts of problems – to make an understatement.

Harwood’s writing is always enjoyable and this is no exception.  Alan K Marshall’s production hits all the high notes, with the dramatic moments powerfully presented, but like Zweig’s struggles with recitative, it’s the linking bits, the casual conversations, that require more consideration.

The play is a stark reminder to nip the Far Right in the bud before it can take hold.  It never ends well.

A worthwhile production that will make you smile, laugh, think and, ultimately, feel.

Simon King and Bill Barry (Photo: Graeme Braidwood)

 

 

On The Nose

CYRANO DE BERGERAC

The Crescent Theatre, Birmingham, Sunday 5^th July, 2015

 

Edmond Rostand’s grand play is here presented in the Crescent’s Ron Barber Studio in this scaled-down adaptation by Glyn Maxwell. Even so, it’s an ambitious project: the Crescent is never shy of a challenge. A chorus of nuns form the chorus of minor characters in support of the protagonists. Some of them cope better than others with the heightened language and some have real stage presence: Angela Daniels, for example, as a lusty servant and as a Captain in the army! Les Stringer brings dignity as Le Bret and Alan Bull’s Ragueneau the cake-shop proprietor adds a touching quality: the experience of these two enriches the mostly young company.

Andrew Elkington is the dashing but goofy and gauche Christian de Neuvillette, unable to articulate his love for Roxane, until the eponymous Cyrano steps in to write epistles of love on the younger, better-looking man’s behalf. Cyrano loves Roxane too and so the letters are infused with his heartfelt but unspoken passion. As the big-nosed Cyrano, the excellent James David Knapp drives the piece with vigour and verve but he needs to be matched, in the comic moments, with equal energy. Director Alan K Marshall needs to make the comic business as sharp and quick-fire as Cyrano’s wit. The early scenes plod along at a steady pace, and the humour is ponderously dealt with – to its detriment.

When things take a more dramatic turn, the production comes into its own. An elegant Roxane, Hannah Kelly brings sensitivity as well as humour to the role, while Andrew Elkington’s Christian discovers fire in his belly in a satisfying performance. I warm to Nicholas Shelton’s De Guiche – he gets better as the play goes on. By the end, this stripped-down piece has the power to move. The dramatic climax is handled very well indeed.

Pat Brown and Vera Dean have gone all out for the costumes. In the absence of any set they evoke the period. Indeed, rails of costumes form the entrances and exits of the scenes, while dozens of frocks are suspended from the ceiling. This abundance of period clothing makes it all the more baffling why Cyrano himself is dressed like a modern-day supply teacher throughout. Like his nose, his costume sets him apart from the rest – not necessarily in a good way.

There is atmospheric lighting courtesy of Chris Briggs. Everyone is working so hard, you will them to succeed – and they make a good fist of it.

On the whole, this is an enjoyable production. It just needs to tighten up on the comic business to match the high quality of the emotional moments.