Tag Archives: David Monteith-Hodge

A Woman Walks Into a Bank

★★★★★

Theatre503

A WOMAN WALKS INTO A BANK at Theatre503

★★★★★

“there’s lots of laughs. In a doleful, what-can-you-expect-this-is-Russia kind of way”

Roxy Cook’s A Woman Walks Into A Bank is a thoroughly delightful—yet pointed, in the way that Gogol’s Dead Souls is pointed—portrait of a corrupt and brutal society drunk on its desire for easy money. In this play the society under the microscope is Moscow in 2018, just after a very successful World Cup. But don’t go to Theatre503 in Battersea expecting elaborate sets and a cast of thousands. Cook and her talented cast of three manage to pull off this wide ranging satirical tale in a box set of a theatre. A box set that contains the enormous energy of this piece like some unstable star, threatening to blow its energy right off stage and take us with it.

As Cook explains in the introduction to the script of A Woman Walks Into A Bank, the play had a lengthy development period, starting with a workshop at the Park Theatre, and then a protracted gestation during lockdown. Recognition from playwrights’ awards such as The Women’s Prize for Playwriting, Brentwood and Verity Bargate prizes no doubt also helped writer and director Cook produce it. And Theatre503 is the perfect place for its premiere. If you think a small theatre with a small stage is an obstacle to putting on epic dramas that have important things to say about late stage capitalism, prepare to be astonished by A Woman Walks Into A Bank. And like all good Russian stories, there’s lots of laughs. In a doleful, what-can-you-expect-this-is-Russia kind of way.

The plot is quite straightforward. An old woman—and much of the dialogue contains a repetition of these three words as a way of introducing a new point in the narrative—an old woman walks into a bank. It is this simple act of walking into a bank that precipitates a free wheeling picaresque tale about three characters: the Old Woman, an ambitious young Banker, and a Debt Collector. Oh, and Sally, the Old Woman’s cat. The Old Woman walks into a bank because, as the narrative wisely observes, old women everywhere always need money. She is attracted by a picture of a friendly young man offering bank notes as an enticement to taking out a loan. In the bank she meets the Young Banker (a newly promoted clerk) who sets her up. In every sense of the word. The complicating factor in all this—apart from the fact that these loans are deliberately targeted at vulnerable people who have no means to repay them—is that the Old Woman does, in fact, have money. But she has stashed it in hiding places around her flat, and has, as an additional obstacle, forgotten that she has it.

You can see where all this is headed. And you’d be right—except that, through the adventures of the Old Woman’s cat Sally, the audience meets a whole range of Russian characters, human and feline, in A Woman Walks Into A Bank. We also get to see the adrenaline fuelled life of a cat living on the fifth floor of a high rise building in Moscow. As I said, it gets complicated. Through the energetic words of Cook’s script, her just-in-time style of direction, the precise, choreographed movements of her cast (Sam Hooper), and the intimate setting of Theatre503, the audience gets to experience all this as though they were also on stage.

The show belongs to that school of dramas where the action emerges spontaneously out of a narration, often told in the third person. This is a thing on London stages at the moment, and it is not always successful. It’s a way of staging that runs the risk of becoming just an act of telling a story, with little else for the actors to do. Fortunately for us, Cook and her talented team are skilled enough to avoid this pitfall. Actors Guilia Innocenti (The Old Woman), Sam Newton (The Banker) and Keith Dunphy (the Debt Collector) bring such inventiveness to the range of their roles that the energy on stage rarely flags. They are particularly effective when playing the same character at the same time. The set designed by David Allen, covered in carpet with all kinds of cut outs —rather like an advent calendar — reveals its secrets as the play progresses, and it’s another visual delight. Cook instructs her actors not to use Russian accents—again, a wise decision. But sound designer and composer Hugh Sheehan doesn’t hesitate to add a backdrop of Russian pop music and that helps to anchor the play in its Moscow setting.

A Woman Walks Into A Bank is not a Christmas play by any means, despite references to the (Russian Orthodox) Christmas Eve, but it’s a great way to start your holiday season theatre going. Book it while you can, because tickets are going to sell out fast.

 

A WOMAN WALKS INTO A BANK at Theatre503

Reviewed on 28th November 2023

by Dominica Plummer

Photography by David Monteith-Hodge

 


Previously reviewed at this venue:

Zombiegate | ★★★ | November 2022
I Can’t Hear You | ★★★★ | July 2022
Til Death do us Part | ★★★★★ | May 2022

A Woman Walks Into a Bank

A Woman Walks Into a Bank

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The Beach House

The Beach House

★★★

Park Theatre

THE BEACH HOUSE at the Park Theatre

★★★

The Beach House

“It is engaging but teasing. Like an extended trailer. Or rather a pilot for a television drama series”

 

“I’m not always that easy to love” Kate explains to her girlfriend Liv. She then spends the next ninety minutes proving her point. If it stretches our patience, think what it is like for the three characters in “The Beach House”, whose entangled lives untangle before us over the course of a year or so. A year in which Kate gives birth to their baby daughter (the conception of which remains a mystery) after the couple move into a crumbling cottage by the sea. Kate’s sister, Jenny, comes and goes, upsetting the already precarious balance each time she arrives, and often more so when she leaves.

Many staple themes are touched upon in Jo Harper’s episodic play, that are unveiled in a series of snapshots. Short scenes. Vignettes of a particular moment in time. Like looking through a stranger’s photo album. We see the surface, and then rely on our imaginations to create the back story. Dramatically that is a blessing, but a burden for the performers who have little time to convince us of their complex characterisation. And they don’t always manage this in the time they have. But what they do have, in abundance, is the ability to draw you into the moment and offer more than a hint of what is going on. The cracks appear in the relationships like the leaks that spring in the roof of their rundown home.

Kathryn Bond is the pragmatic, uptight career woman. Bond cleverly plays the bully with a tender lack of self-awareness who can surprisingly elicit sympathy. The issue of post-natal depression is brushed aside and swept under her façade of impatience and overreaction. Apparently Kate has always been the controlling type, according to free spirited, little sister Jenny. Gemma Barnett has many layers through which to make her character’s voice heard but, despite her strong charisma and very watchable presence, the message becomes muffled. Gemma Lawrence’s Liv has the most light and shade. A blocked songwriter, she depends on Kate financially and emotionally. Lawrence convincingly portrays a divided soul. We marvel at her tolerance, and understand and excuse her indiscretions.

There is a lot going on here. All three characters are both culprits and victims. They are grappling with some hefty issues. Coercion, emotional abuse, infidelity, motherhood, sisterhood, abortion, betrayal, desire. It could be a whirlwind, but it is more fragile than that. Delivered gently, the real tensions are like a dark cloud on the horizon, and the performances are treading some way from the precipice.

Set in the round, Bethany Pitts staging is nevertheless starkly honest, reflected in Cara Evans’ sparse setting. The lens focuses on a single trunk centre stage, a Pandora’s Box – on which the lid is never fully lifted. A baby monitor relays some offstage dialogue, but again we expect more of a reveal from this technique. It is engaging but teasing. Like an extended trailer. Or rather a pilot for a television drama series. Now there’s an idea. The performances certainly do leave us wanting to know more. And what happens next. And what happened before. “Always leave them wanting more” they say. A fundamental rule that this company haven’t breached in “The Beach House”.

 

Reviewed on 20th February 2023

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by David Monteith-Hodge

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

 

Julie Madly Deeply | ★★★★ | December 2021
Another America | ★★★ | April 2022
The End of the Night | ★★ | May 2022
Monster | ★★★★★ | August 2022
A Single Man | ★★★★ | October 2022
Pickle | ★★★ | November 2022
Rumpelstiltskin | ★★★★★ | December 2022
Wickies | ★★★ | December 2022
The Elephant Song | ★★★★ | January 2023
Winner’s Curse | ★★★★★ | February 2023

 

 

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