Globe Theatre

Globe Theatre

Tuesday, 14 April 2015

Travesties - Bridewell Theatre

Me watching Travesties
'Travesties! When the feeling's gone and you can't go on, it's Travesties! When the morning cries and you don't know why...' The last Tom Stoppard play I saw was Arcadia, about fifteen years ago, which I didn't enjoy on the grounds of it being pretentious and difficult to follow. I was concerned I would have a similar reaction to Travesties when I read the blurb on its advertising leaflet: 'With all the pithy wit of Joyce and the literary virtuosity of Wilde, the political rigour of Dada and the absurdity of Lenin - Travesties is a whirlwind tour through politics, art and really great trousers. While the Great War rages across Europe, Zurich in 1917 is a battlefield of ideas and ideals. [...]' 

Anything that has the words 'Joyce', 'literary virtuosity', 'Dada' and 'battlefield of ideas and ideals' in its description has GOT to be pretentious, right?

Well, not necessarily, but this play certainly was.

I liked its basic concept: elderly man called Henry Carr (performed here by a Bruce Forsyth lookalike) reminisces about his younger days when he lived in Zurich, and the influential people he met. As he reminisces we see his reminiscences played out. However, his memories are faulty and sometimes confused, and there are times when the same basic memory is played out more than once but in slightly different ways. An interesting concept. The people with whom Carr interacts are James Joyce, Tristan Tzara (a founder of Dadaism) and Lenin. Carr played the part of Algernon in The Importance of Being Earnest while in Zurich and his memories are closely intertwined with this play.

The thing that annoyed me about Travesties - and Arcadia, too, as far as I remember - is that one's enjoyment of it depended almost entirely on whether one understood its myriad of social, political and literary references. In this case you had to have a reasonably intimate knowledge of The Importance of Being Earnest in order to understand half the script. Fortunately I happened to have seen TIoBE and listened to a radio adaptation of it recently [smug look] so I think I scraped a pass on that score. However, in order to wring the most enjoyment out of this play you would also have to have a good knowledge of Joyce, Ulysses, Dadaism, contemporary Russian politics...and probably a load of other things that I'm too goshdarned pig ignorant to even be aware of. Confession: I'd never heard of Tzara before seeing this play and it wasn't until the second half that I realised he was based on a real person, like Joyce and Lenin (yes, I had heard of them [wipes brow]).

There were some parts that I found amusing, such as Carr's love of clothes even while fighting in WW1, but didn't find anything laugh-out-loud funny.

My dislike of the play aside, Travesties was performed admirably by the Tower Theatre Company, a well-known amateur group. It wasn't an easy play to perform, requiring a good sense of rhythm, especially in the poetry scenes. Now I have a better knowledge of some of the characters I'm impressed by how well the actors copied their appearances. The costumes were great, hairstyles impressive. The set was excellent. It was good to see consecutive sets containing divans!

Next: I don't know. Nothing by Tom Stoppard, though. For another fifteen years.

Thursday, 2 April 2015

Candida - Upstairs at the Gatehouse

Candida book cover
I'm afraid I didn't see Eigengrau because I felt miserable that day and didn't feel like it. However, I've been reliably assured that it was amazing and I missed out.

This was my first visit to Upstairs at the Gatehouse. It's a theatre located on the upper floors of the Gatehouse pub; hence its moniker. It turned out to be a bigger space than I'd anticipated. With free seating (as opposed to designated seating) I was able to bag a seat in the front row.

The set was wonderful. I think it's vital for plays by the likes of George Bernard Shaw and Noel Coward to have properly detailed sets in order to convey the period atmosphere and give one something to look at during the long dialogues when one's mind inevitably wanders. This set was one of the most detailed I've ever seen. The play is set in the 1890s in the drawing room of a middle class home. Fireplace? Check. With GLOWING LOGS, even though they wouldn't have been visible to most audience members. Black and white photograph of a relative on the wall? Check. Divan? Check. Bookcase? Check. Low chair near fireplace? Check. Replica newspaper? Check. Oil lamp type thing? Check. Houseplant that I don't know the name of, but which looked authentic? (Bamboo?) Check.

The Reverend James Morell (Harry Meacher) has candida is married to Candida. A charismatic Christian Socialist preacher, he believes that their relationship is solid and happy and that she depends upon him for love and protection. Candida (Judi Bowker) returns from a lengthy sojourn away from home with a young aristocratic poet, Eugene Marchbanks (Sebastian Cornelius), who, it transpires, has fallen in love with her and wants to get together with her. When he learns of Marchbanks' feelings Morell is initially dismissive but when he speaks to Candida about them he is shaken to discover that she does not feel as he thought she would about not only Marchbanks, but his preaching career and him in general. The play culminates in a 'who will she choose?' scene, with surprising consequences.

Candida is refreshingly feminist in the way it acknowledges that, in many cases, the success of men should at least partly be attributed to the unseen work of the women in their lives (e.g. emotional bolstering work, undertaking a greater share of the housework and childcare etc.). Maybe this was undermined slightly by the incredibly unsubtle patronising nature of Candida - she speaks to her husband and Marchbanks as though they were about two, referring to them as 'big babies' and 'boys', and doles out some pretty harsh passive aggressive criticism - which makes one wonder why either of them is so desperate for her love and approval. But that was also refreshing in its way. It's like the opposite of the end of A Doll's House; in this case the woman chooses to remain with her husband and he accepts that he's a much weaker person than he had always thought and recognises and acknowledges how much he has always relied on her.

The actors playing Morell and Candida were older than I imagine GBS had envisaged (Candida looked about the same age as the man playing her father), but I didn't think it mattered, as everyone played their parts plausibly and well.

I liked the character of Eugene a lot. He was the kind of person I imagined my adult self falling in love with when I was about 13: poetic, profound, passionate, attractive, romantic and melancholic, with an 1890s bohemian dress sense. Nowadays I think I'd find him a little irritating.

Next: Travesties