The Bacchae - Hampstead Parish Church

Ancient Greek sculptured scene apparently featuring Euripedes

It's taken me several weeks to get over this production, hence the delay in the review. This play was one sick puppy. I've managed to erase the content of most of the speeches in the second act from my memory, so I can't discuss them in detail. Just be sure that their subject matter was abhorrent, foul and deeply unpleasant.

A play hailing from ancient Greek times, The Bacchae is structured differently to your average modern play, with ridiculously long speeches and important events happening offstage and then described in said speeches rather than performed in front of the audience. Which was just as well for this disturbing oeuvre.

The Bacchae sees the women of Thebes eschewing their domestic duties and fleeing to the mountains to perform Bacchic rites, having been entranced by the god Dionysus (Matthew Williams). However, Dionysus, while initially coming across as fairly mellow albeit arrogant (especially in comparison to the uptight ruler of Thebes, Pentheus (Nicolas Holzapfel)), turns out to be a violent sociopath, wreaking horrific acts of vengeance on Pentheus and his family.

My highlights:

• The titular Bacchae. There were eight Bacchants who were on stage nearly all the time. The Bacchae were entrancing to watch - while they were a group, I liked the fact that they seemed to have distinctive personalities. For example, they reacted differently when the depths of Dionysus' depravity was revealed. Their interactions with each other - the hair stroking and loving looks and touching - made their ménage seem rather appealing. It was a shame they left Thebes to follow Dionysus rather than found a proto-feminist commune. The song one of them sang was really beautiful and I enjoyed the dancing too. Their movements were very fluid and well-choreographed.

• The barbs exchanged between Dionysus and Pentheus; the former provocatively laid-back and the latter displaying classic Type A personality traits. One felt more sympathetic towards Dionysus at this point but...this was to change.

• Pentheus disguised as a woman. Nuff said.

• The transition from amusement to horror. One minute we were all giggling at Pentheus and his female disguise, the next we were shocked and appalled. Since the horrific acts in question weren't depicted on stage, the person principally responsible for changing the play's and audience's mood was the Messenger (Catherine Martin), who recounted the sorry tale of Pentheus' fate. Her recounting of this story was moving and it completely changed one's feelings towards Pentheus and Dionysus.

• The tragic exchange between Agave, Pentheus' mother (Anna Rolfe), and her father, Cadmus (Simon Malpas). 

The Bacchae was well-paced, and even though I was aware beforehand that the speeches would be really long, they didn't feel long both because they were well-performed and because there were always interesting background happenings to watch, such as the antics of the Bacchae.

I give this production four papier-mâché heads and half a thyrsus out of five.

photo credit: Sebastià Giralt L'escena dóna una màscara a Eurípides davant Dionís, Museu Arqueològic d'Istambul via photopin (license)

Sleeping Beauty - London Coliseum

Alien Sleeping Beauty - nothing like the ballet

This was one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen. I had high expectations for it but didn't think it would come close to Matthew Bourne's version, which was not only magical and atmospheric but strong on the story-telling front. Bourne's protagonists had definite personalities and relatable, absorbing storylines. The traditional Sleeping Beauty is more a collection of showpiece dances, most of which do nothing to further the plot, and Aurora and the Prince couldn't exactly be mistaken for complex characters.

However, this production reminded me of the amazingness of traditional choreography, and I was blown away by the costumes, sets and atmosphere.

The 'Aurora' for best costume has to go to the Fairy of Benevolence, who wore a cornflower blue tutu with lots of sparkles and a headpiece to which it would be impossible for me to do justice. The only dud costume was that worn by one of the princes in the Rose Adagio, which made him resemble a cross between Oliver Cromwell and a hippy. I liked the fact that the courtiers'/townspeoples' costumes started off as late 17th century and 100 years later they were proper late 18th century Gainsborough-esque outfits. Because this was a fairytale I wasn't sure they would pay such attention to detail. But they did.

Highlights for me:

• The entrance of Carabosse (Fabian Reimair) in a sinister little carriage, accompanied by bald minions
• The Fairies pleading with Carabosse through highly elegant mimes and being rebuffed
• The Garland Waltz, danced by the townspeople
• The Rose Adagio - I'm sure the final part of the music was slower than usual, which made Aurora's (Erina Takahashi's) being on pointe for that length of time even more impressive
• Aurora's 'sleep throes' - so elegant and moving
• The Lilac Fairy (Shiori Kase) casting the spell over the palace that sends its inhabitants to sleep. It was a truly magical moment and the Lilac Fairy's mimes in that scene were exquisite. Exquisite
• The Lilac Fairy entering the forest on board a little SHIP and travelling through the forest on said ship to the accompaniment of smoke
• Basically every scene with the Lilac Fairy, who was my favourite character
• The wedding celebration dances of Aurora and the Prince (Aitor Arrieta) - both solos and pas de deux

It amused me that the Prince hardly had to put any effort into finding and rousing Aurora. Doesn't he at least have to hack away thick and stubborn foliage in the fairytale? In this, the Lilac Fairy does EVERYTHING: takes him through the forest, banishes Carabosse and her minions and even confirms, when the Prince expresses uncertainty, that he needs to kiss Aurora in order to wake her up.

I give this production 4.5 spindle pricks out of  5.

photo credit: the_alien_experience Sleeping Beauty - The Kiss of Life via photopin (license)

Next: The Bacchae

Coraline - Barbican Theatre

Button with needle and thread

Even though I knew this was a Royal Opera production, for some reason I wasn't expecting it to be a proper opera - I'd envisaged it more as a musical. Perhaps because it's a children's story? But it was a proper opera. And it was weird to hear very ordinary lines such as 'I'm bored' sung operatically.

Based on Neil Gaiman's book of the same name, Coraline is an original, fantastical story about a girl who moves house and soon discovers a passage that takes her to a mirror version of the house, inhabited by a set of identical parents (that is, identical to Coraline's real parents, not to each other) with buttons for eyes. It's a disturbing story and my eight-year-old self might have found the opera too scary. Especially the bit with the disembodied hand. The idea of having one's eyes replaced by buttons is also highly discomforting. For me, even just the idea of being alone in a big new house at night is quite scary.

Before the show started we were informed that Kitty Whately, who was playing Coraline's mother/Other Mother, was recovering from illness. I was nervous lest this would become apparent in her performance, but it didn't. She made a creepy, beguiling, terrifying Other Mother and was the most captivating character in the show. It took a while to get used to an adult (Mary Bevan) playing Coraline, but once you did she was relatable and enjoyable to watch.

Coraline was extremely engaging and I was on tenterhooks throughout, despite knowing what happens, having watched the film and listened to the audiobook. I wasn't that keen on the actual music, though - I doubt I'd enjoy listening to it outside the context of the opera - there was no strong melody that I was able to remember afterwards. I found the music didn't vary much from scene to scene, with the slight exception of the scenes with the eccentric neighbours.

One of my favourite scenes was that in which Coraline is kicked out of the house and meets the former child inhabitants of the house and victims of the Other Mother. It was simultaneously moving and funny. I liked that the former child inhabitants were from different eras - Georgian, Victorian and 1970s. The 1970s child's interpretation of the events leading to his entrapment was amusing.

Next: I don't know. Globe?

Satyagraha - London Coliseum

Gandhi-ish figure

There are three elements one can reliably expect from a Philip Glass opera:

1. Repetition

2. Extreme slowness of movement

3. Unpredictability (in areas other than 1. and 2.)

Satyagraha did not disappoint in any of the above, although I admit to feeling a little restless during the last 15 minutes of the 3.5 hour performance when the main motif of the final song was entering its fiftieth repetition. 

Philip Glass operas lull me into a deep meditative, mesmeric state, such that it doesn't hugely matter how much I understand of what's going on. Which was just as well with this one, given that my Sanskrit comprehension is non-existent and we didn't have a programme (they were sold out).

When I say they lull me into a meditative state, I don't mean that my mind is blank, unaffected by the story and music. I found Satyagraha very moving and beautiful, as I did Akhnaten. You can understand the emotions conveyed by the actors and songs even if you can't understand the words.

Satyagraha portrayed Gandhi’s early years in South Africa, tracing the progress of his concept of non-violent protest as a positive force for change. There were a few other visionary characters depicted, including the back of Martin Luther King, who, using very slow, repetitive movements, acted out speaking to an imaginary crowd for about half an hour at the end while Gandhi sang.

One of the visual motifs used throughout was newspapers...words and pictures beamed onto held up newspapers, people reading newspapers, people throwing newspapers, people writhing among newspapers. My favourite scene featured a line of stereotypically Celtic-looking men with fake beards reading newspapers before proceeding to scrunch them up and pelt Gandhi with them, leading to a European woman coming to his defence. And there were amazing papier-mâché giants of different shapes and sizes that came stalking out at one point. Wonderful!

The person who impressed me most was Karen Kamensek, the conductor. The fact that it's humanly possible to successfully conduct a Philip Glass opera - retaining concentration for that length of time, on music with that level of repetitiveness - blows my mind.

Next: Surprise!

Austentatious - Piccadilly Theatre

Pride and Prejudice painted on some form of block

I was expecting to really enjoy this. I mean,

1) I love Jane Austen and am familiar with her works. 

2) I love the concept of a comedic, full-length improvised play in the style of Austen based on a humorous, bastardised Austen book title suggested by an audience member.

3) I have a sense of humour.

So...why didn't I like it?

First, I'll pay tribute to the set and costumes, which were excellent. The set started off as a wooden crate, which fell open when the title for the play had been decided upon, to reveal an impressive Regency drawing room interior. The costumes were all that one could wish for in a Regency-era play. The music, played by two musicians (violin and piano?) was also fitting and added to the humour.

The chosen title for the play was 'Seasoning and Seasonality', and began with one of the gentlemen adding seasoning to a meal. The improvisation was very clever - the cast's ability to craft a multi-layered storyline while constantly coming up with witticisms was impressive.

However, I didn't like it because I'd been expecting it to be set completely in the Regency era, and draw more from Austen novels trope-wise. I'd thought that was the point of it: to perform a comedic, parodic, ridiculous Austen-esque story - set at the time at which Austen's books are set. I'd imagined that was part of the challenge, and would be one of the main sources of humour.

Instead, they did an improvisation in Regency garb, loosely set during the Regency period, with a ton of modern references. Several of the scenes took place in a Lidl supermarket. One of the characters played a cashier. Aldi was also mentioned. There were parts that I found genuinely funny, like the  confusion over the boundaries of the indoor fire, the 'spectacular', and the flashback (all of which would've worked in a more authentically Austen-esque improvisation), but overall, the constant modern references rendered it less creative and clever to me than if they'd stuck to what I'd imagined was the brief. And less funny. But most of the audience seemed to find it hilarious, so I accept I'm an outlier.

Next: Satyagraha

photo credit: steeljam bb Pride and Prejudice Bloomsbury 9497 Back via photopin (license)

Top Hat - Upstairs at the Gatehouse

Fred Astaire, who played Jerry in the film Top Hat

Upstairs at the Gatehouse's front of house nearly refused me entrance. There was some problem with their system, which meant that my name wasn't appearing on their records. I showed them the e-mailed ticket receipt on my phone, but they were determined to find the actual record on their system (which they never found), and insisted that I waited while they checked other peoples' tickets first. As UatG's seating arrangements operate on a first come first served basis, this was irritating. I was finally allowed in, sans apology, and managed to bag a good seat in spite of front of house's best efforts.

Seeing high energy, uber extroverted productions within the close confines of UatG is like watching a musical in your bedroom. You can see (and, in some cases, feel) every bead of sweat, every drop of spittle, every strip of tape holding mics in place on perspiring foreheads. You can't help constantly catching the actors' eyes, so you have to make sure you're always smiling in enjoyment...which generally isn't difficult to do.

This was another show set in the 1930s - 1935, to be precise - complete with art deco set designs. I seem to have seen a lot of 1930s productions at UatG, and will never tire of the costumes and sets. The storyline was simple and highly P.G. Woodhouse-esque, based around a misunderstanding over the identity of the male protagonist, Jerry Travers, on the part of the female protagonist, Dale Tremont, and involving a butler who adopted a number of different disguises. Dale thought Jerry was Horace, the husband of her friend Madge, leading to genuinely laugh out loud moments when Madge appeared to be encouraging Dale to pursue her husband romantically. Joshua Lay, who, incidentally, resembled a younger Daniel Craig, successfully captured the indefatigable exuberance and irritating overconfidence of Jerry Travers. Joanne Clifton, of Strictly Come Dancing fame, was suitably aloof (and rightly so, with Jerry), perplexed and glamorous as Dale. She had some beautiful costumes, including the white swooshy skirt one with (fake?) fur (or was it feathers?).

The humour was quite 'of its era', let me say - apart from the Woodhousian plot/s and wordplay, which were fine, the Madge/Horace plotline involved a lot of somewhat tedious 'isn't marriage awful' banter, and domestic violence against a man was played for laughs...which was discomforting.

The tap dancing was wonderful - I hardly ever see tap, so it was Top Hat's main draw for me. However, while I like seeing these kinds of productions at UatG, I thought, on this occasion, that some of the dancing would've looked better from a distance rather than up close. It amazes me that the front rows of audience manage to walk out without multiple facial injuries every night. Song-wise: it was good to hear familiar songs such as 'Puttin' on the Ritz' and 'Let's Face the Music and Dance' in the context of a show. Not so keen on the yodel-y 'I'm Putting All My Eggs in One Basket', though (not the actors' fault - just don't like the song). The finale/curtain call was one of the best I've ever seen, if not THE best. They did a medley and dance, and the members of the ensemble actually changed outfits JUST FOR THE FINALE. 

Next: Austentatious

photo credit: twm1340 Fred Astaire via photopin (license)