Tag Archives: Ash J Woodward

MANHUNT

★★★★

Royal Court

MANHUNT

Royal Court

★★★★

“Samuel Edward-Cook’s performance is a tour-de-force”

Behind a metallic, gauze curtain a figure paces back and forth. Shaven headed. His shadow follows him across the vertical wall of the translucent screen – a projected alter ego pursuing its prey, fuelling the claustrophobic motions of the man’s repetitive circuit. His behaviour is erratic yet painfully routine. It’s like watching a captive animal through the bars of a zoo’s enclosure.

A flash of brilliant white light releases him to tell his story. It’s a story that dominated the front pages and caught the public imagination during the summer of 2010. That of the major police operation across Tyne and Wear – the manhunt for fugitive Raoul Moat. The ex-prisoner was on the run for nearly a week after a killing spree, ending with a six-hour standoff with armed police and Moat’s suicide. It was a story that landed in the lap of journalist Andrew Hankinson whose subsequent book inspired Robert Icke’s brutal and challenging one-act play. The overriding word on our lips is ‘why?’

“Manhunt” doesn’t offer any answers, but it poses the question from every angle, looking at the horrific events through the eyes of the victims and the perpetrator, often begging us to ask which is which. Icke’s writing and direction steer the narrative in a cyclical fashion, swinging between flashbacks and the present. It is often Kafkaesque in its approach as Moat fights a system he believes has been against him since birth. Whether we are supposed to be or not, we are drawn into Moat’s own tragedy as much as his victim’s which is unsettling to say the least. Samuel Edward-Cook’s performance is a tour-de-force that reinforces this with a warped honesty as he tries to justify himself. All the while he is surrounded by figures from his past and present: the judges and juries that accuse him of hitting his daughter; the ex-partner; his childhood self, locked in his room by his unstable mother; the father he never knew; social workers; friends, accomplices and detractors, and most importantly his victims. A poignant extended blackout heightens a first-hand account from a police officer he randomly shot and blinded in a cold-hearted act of revenge.

The supporting cast who play the multiple roles are as equally compelling as Edward-Cook, if not as frightening. This could well have been a one man show along the lines of the recent ‘Kenrex’, which follows similar themes, but the ensemble here fleshes out the account and adds a distinct and welcome light and shade. There is occasional confusion during moments when we are unsure that what we are witnessing is in Moat’s mind or in reality. Hallucinations overlap real life too often, yet it all adds to the unease, and we are constantly left unsure who to believe. So rather than collude with anybody we end up trusting no one. An unsatisfactory and dangerous position to be in, but one that maybe Icke is trying to spotlight.

Danger is an undercurrent that bursts to the surface constantly. Edward-Cook’s manic, wild-eyed stare cements this. He is a drowning man watching his life flash before him. Azusa Ono’s lighting evokes the episodes with haunting atmosphere, from the coldness of a prison cell to the campfire warmth of his last hiding place in the Northumbrian countryside. Here Moat talks to fellow Geordie, Paul Gascoigne before confronting his estranged father and being consoled by a doting grandmother. It is all unreal, but it helps him unearth the truth of his nature. There is only one conclusion. Justice takes a back seat while cause and effect – action and reaction – take centre stage.

At the time, Moat was famously labelled a ‘callous murderer… end of story’. Which is arguably the case. This play appears to challenge that assumption, but Icke’s writing is as ambiguous as the history as he tries to dig deeper. But there is no avoiding the fact that Moat was a big, strong man who used violence against those who were weaker than him. He lied, he lacked control, and he tried to justify his actions that ruined and ended lives. It is not a good story. However, Icke turns it into a breath-taking piece of theatre. We might wonder why he chose to do so, but we are enthralled and disturbed by the experience, and the performances will stick in our minds for quite a while. A gripping production. End of story.

MANHUNT

Royal Court

Reviewed on 8th April 2025

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Manuel Harlan

 

 

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

A GOOD HOUSE | ★★★★ | January 2025
THE BOUNDS | ★★★ | June 2024
LIE LOW | ★★★★ | May 2024
BLUETS | ★★★ | May 2024
GUNTER | ★★★★ | April 2024
COWBOIS | ★★★★★ | January 2024
MATES IN CHELSEA | ★★★ | November 2023
CUCKOO | ★★½ | July 2023
BLACK SUPERHERO | ★★★★ | March 2023
FOR BLACK BOYS … | ★★★★★ | April 2022

MANHUNT

MANHUNT

MANHUNT

Dear England

Dear England

★★★★★

Prince Edward Theatre

DEAR ENGLAND at the Prince Edward Theatre

★★★★★

Dear England

“This is a football play for people who don’t necessarily like football”

James Graham is writing history in real time. This open-ended chronicle of Gareth Southgate’s turnaround of the England Men’s football team’s footballing culture has built a rightful reputation as a modern sporting and theatrical epic.

Graham is known more for his political writing (including Olivier nominated This House and Best of Enemies), and here transports the debate chamber to the St George’s Park locker room over a six year period. Unexpectedly awarded the England job after Sam Allardyce’s indiscretions, Southgate steps up to first team coach, and sets about fixing what he sees is lacking from the England set up. This involves what one of the old-school physios dismisses as ‘soft stuff’, including introducing psychologist Dr Pippa Grange (played by a vibrant Dervla Kirwan) to change the team culture.

Thus starts the battle between the old and the new, the internal and the external, the brain and the brawn.

The title refers to an open letter Southgate wrote in 2021, when he eschewed de rigeur social media to connect to England fans in his own way, whilst encouraging his team to find out what playing for England means for them. The second act of the play in particular explores the pressures on the team as they struggle to define themselves against traditional expectations.

Given this focus on the internality, there’s (for some theatre-goers, thankfully) not too much exploration of the minutiae of football. No-one will be tested about the intricacies of the offside rule. Indeed, there is a lovely section where Southgate sets out his philosophy as a vision across three acts. The most football you get are the crucial penalty shootouts. These again switch the focus from the act of kicking to the mind behind the boot. Director Rupert Goold changes the set up of these throughout the piece, highlighting the churning psychology behind each.

“These are played with cartoonish guile by the excellent supporting ensemble”

Above the stage (set design Es Devlin) is a large suspended ring of light, reminiscent of the Wembley Arch and many a footballing logo. The ring also features graphics, at one stage resembling a zoetrope of penalty taking failures past (lighting design Jon Clark and video design Ash J Woodward). The stage itself has concentric rotating circles that add movement to larger crowd sequences, which feature a hilarious cast representing modern Britain, and the England team training sessions which are directed as balletic pieces with music to match.

Initially there are also individual lockers that are moved across the stage, often featuring hanging England football shirts. The first act takes place with a vintage selection, immediately establishing the history that has hung like a yoke, weighed down with that single tournament victory sixty years ago.

As Southgate, Joseph Fiennes is excellent at subtly reminding the audience of this pressure, and the missed penalty that is never far from his mind. His attention to detail of Southgate’s mannerisms is also uncanny. Little gestures, like the single finger scratch below the ear, and vocal fillers are spot on. Will Close as the inarticulate Harry Kane, Griffin Stevens as Harry Maguire, also elicit laughs every time they speak, playing with our tabloid understanding of the players. Kel Matsena also does a great job as Raheem Sterling, whose poignant comments about the racism he faced on the pitch echo on.

Graham can’t resist poking a little fun at the rotating carousel of politicians since 2016 who could take a leaf out of Dr Pippa Grange’s books about failing well. These are played with cartoonish guile by the excellent supporting ensemble, and are greeted with roars from the audience.

The wonderful costumes (Evie Gurney) here help tell the story of time passing. The team England jerseys are replaced between each of the main tournaments and matches, and this attention to detail immediately places you back to the exact pub, settee, or stadium where you were watching that year’s attempt to end the years of hurt.

I really enjoyed the cameos from Crystal Condie playing Alex Scott, the former Lioness and current pundit. Though England’s football history has been centred around the men’s team, you have a feeling the sequel will feature more women.

This is a football play for people who don’t necessarily like football. Just note, you are unlikely to get state-of-the-nation writing this good at your local terraces this weekend.


DEAR ENGLAND at the Prince Edward Theatre

Reviewed on 19th October 2023

by Rosie Thomas

Photography by Marc Brenner

 


 

 

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

Ain’t Too Proud | ★★★ | April 2023

Dear England

Dear England

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