Tag Archives: Auriol Reddaway

Elephant

Elephant

★★★★★

Bush Theatre

ELEPHANT at the Bush Theatre

★★★★★

Elephant

“Lucas’ script is beautiful. It is subtle and thoughtful and surprisingly funny.”

This urgent and compelling one woman show bursts onto stage with joy and with unapologetic nuance and complexity.

Writer and performer Anoushka Lucas combines live music and performance in a show which calls itself ‘part gig, part musical love story, part journey through empire’.

The play flickers between the late 1990s and late 2010s dipping into vignettes of protagonist Lilah’s life, which explore her relationship with music, race and class. These are interspersed with live songs played by Lucas on the slowly spinning piano in the centre of the stage.

Lucas’ script is beautiful. It is subtle and thoughtful and surprisingly funny. Through dissecting the historical origins of the piano and sorting through her own life, this character finds truths about the way she has been treated, and society’s tacit complicity in that. It is at once scorching social commentary and personal soul searching. The language, particularly in a motif about the butchery of elephants in the ivory trade, is startling and haunting.

“The music has a quiet lyrical beauty”

Director Jess Edwards, who also developed the piece with Lucas, makes consistently striking choices. The play is in the round, creating an intimate and conspiratorial tone. As well as creating light and shade through words and song, there are moments of physical theatre. While voiceover (by sound designed XANA) plays of Lilah’s auditions in the music industry, she morphs herself into forced shapes, using the piano as a tool to flatten herself ever further. Her extreme physicality underpins the harshness of the words.

As Lilah narrates her life she embodies her younger self, full of naive and confident enthusiasm, as well as her more reserved adult self, afraid of coming off as weird. It is a challenging performance, one which requires deft handling of emotional and physical shifts, and Lucas thrives in it.

The music has a quiet lyrical beauty. At times in comparison to the strength of the prose it leaves something to be desired. But it’s a beautiful way to break the narration and Lucas pours her soul into it.

Georgia Wilmot’s set design is masterful. The centre of the stage is a pit, with a piano and a small bookshelf. Lucas is able to clamber over these as well as play the piano. The pit itself slowly spins during the musical scenes, adding an ethereal beauty to the music.

The lighting design, by Laura Howard, is soft and pastel toned. Paper lampshades hang in the audience, glowing blue and pink, and flicker with the notes of the piano. There is a shimmering orb of coloured light which surrounds the pit, and pulsates in time with the music. It is rare to see lighting design that feels so fresh, and so exciting, while remaining tonally in keeping with the piece.

Elephant is a love story and a coming of age and a call to arms. It is a realisation of silencing and the power of speaking out. It is searing, and powerful, but strangely uplifting.


ELEPHANT at the Bush Theatre

Reviewed on 19th October 2023

by Auriol Reddaway

Photography by  The Other Richard

 

 

 

 

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

Red Pitch | ★★★★ | September 2023
Paradise Now! | ★★★★★ | December 2022
The P Word | ★★★ | September 2022
Favour | ★★★★ | June 2022
Lava | ★★★★ | July 2021

Elephant

Elephant

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The cast of Hamnet stand on a wooden stage. Behind them, two wooden ladders fashioned into an ‘A’, draped with flowers. Photo by Manuel Harlan © RSC

Hamnet

★★★

Garrick Theatre

HAMNET at the Garrick Theatre

★★★

The cast of Hamnet stand on a wooden stage. Behind them, two wooden ladders fashioned into an ‘A’, draped with flowers. Photo by Manuel Harlan © RSC

“The story is gripping, and the performances are strong”

It is a hard task to adapt an incredibly popular and deeply literary novel for the stage, especially one which spans decades, cities and narrative voices. This adaptation doesn’t quite carry the romantic and ethereal genius of its source text, but it is brave enough to carve its own path through the story. It rushes along as a love letter to the emotional power of theatre.

Agnes is the peculiar orphaned daughter of a sheep farmer, who falls for the quick tongued Latin tutor, known better as William Shakespeare. The first half follows their romance and their struggles with their respective families, particularly William’s cruel and violent father. The second half jumps a decade, and surrounds the personal heartbreak which inspires, so this play supposes, one of the greatest tragedies ever written.

Lolita Chakrabarti’s adaptation is direct, emotionally honest and blunt. Sometimes this is an asset, allowing the emotional truths to be laid bare, but sometimes it lacks subtlety. The high-octane emotions, especially at the beginning, do feel a bit distancing at times, and it would have been interesting to explore a more layered complexity, especially in the couple’s relationships with their parental figures. The time jump in the middle, which brings the twins to the forefront and allows the piece a greater emotional depth, also stunts the development of the romantic centre. In some ways this does work, as by shifting the focus from the romance, the script is able to build its own identity, separately from the novel. Some of the strongest moments come with William’s players, and their plans for a new playhouse. Converting the stage into The Globe for the final scene is magical, and the joy and power of theatre is beautifully explored here.

Erica Whyman’s direction gives Hamnet significant momentum, hurtling along with a terrible, inevitable dread. There are some really beautiful moments to be found, but often they come in the pauses, when the play lets itself breathe. Some of this energy comes from the choice to cover each scene transition with a jaunty tune (Oğuz Kaplangi). This is also interspersed with sinister breathing and whispering, by sound designer Simon Baker. However, because many of the scenes are short and sharp it does stilt some of them, and prevents us from sitting with what we have seen.

It is a large cast, which serves to flesh out the rich world of the play. Madeleine Mantock’s Agnes is fiery and bold, contrasting and complementing Tom Varey’s William who is more pent up. For me the standouts, were Ajani Cabey and Alex Jarrett as the tragically fated twins. Cabey’s performance was beautiful, showing both incredible grace and joyous mischief. Jarrett was also excellent, bringing a tragic complexity to a grieving child, and one of her speeches was, for me, the emotional punch of the whole performance. Special mentions must also go to Gabriel Akuwudike’s Bartholomew whose excellent comic timing was a joy and Sarah Belcher who as Joan had a real grasp of her emotional levels, and brought a huge amount to what might’ve been a one note character.

Tom Piper’s set is ingenious, quirky and fun. Two levels framed by wooden ladders allow the cast to scamper up and down and all around, making use of every inch of the space. Using wood gives it an earthy feel, connected to Agnes’ natural healing. Prema Mehta’s lighting design brings harmony to this playful and warm set.

As an avid fan of the novel, I wanted to love this play. While I respect its ability to make the story its own, for me the emotional build felt rushed, and didn’t pay off. The story is gripping, and the performances are strong. But there is a bit of magic missing, which is what made the novel unique, and without which, the play is left feeling a little hollow.


HAMNET at the Garrick Theatre

Reviewed on 18th October 2023

by Auriol Reddaway

Photography by Manuel Harlan

 

 


 

 

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

The Crown Jewels | ★★★ | August 2023
Orlando | ★★★★ | December 2022
Myra Dubois: Dead Funny | ★★★★ | September 2021

Hamnet

Hamnet

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