Tag Archives: Helen Murray

2:22 - A Ghost Story

2:22 – A Ghost Story

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Gielgud Theatre

2:22 - A Ghost Story

2:22 – A Ghost Story

Gielgud Theatre

Reviewed – 12th December 2021

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“Beatriz and Buckley are an unlikely duo on paper perhaps, but combined they are the absolute shining stars of this production”

 

You can’t beat a good ghost story in a theatre. The darkened auditorium, the focused hush, the sheer unlikeliness of something in a proscenium arch genuinely scaring you.

I remember the first time I saw The Woman in Black, the ultimate theatrical ghost story. I was 14, and having seen a fair bit of theatre already, I fancied myself a little sophisticate. But the first time the woman in black appeared on stage I literally screamed and dove under my brother’s seat. Deeply embarrassed I quickly composed myself, only to do it again 15 minutes later. But The Woman in Black ticks the box on nearly every classic ghost story trope- the old, mysterious setting, the misty moors, a stranger coming to a strange place, a world still living largely in candlelight. 2:22, however, sets the scene in the bright light of modernity with no tropes to hide behind.

Taking place in a doer-upper that’s been gutted and tastefully redecorated (designed by Anna Fleischle), there are no shadows, no scary nooks, no creaking floorboards. On first glance, this is the last place you’d expect to see a ghost, everything new and gleaming, the paint still wet. Even the shrieks from outside are cleanly explained away by smug scientist Sam (Elliot Cowan) as foxes getting it on.

2:22 - A Ghost Story

But despite the lovely open-plan space, motion-censored lights outside, and Alexa conducting the house’s technology on demand, Sam’s wife Jenny (Giovanna Fletcher) feels far less certain that there aren’t supernatural forces afoot. For the past few nights, at 2:22am precisely, she hears footsteps in her daughter’s bedroom, and a man sobbing. When she switches on the light- poof- it’s gone. With guests over for dinner, they decide to make a night of it, waiting until 2:22 to hear for themselves.

Writer Danny Robbins toes the line with balletic aplomb between silly fun with friends and a genuine coaxing fear amongst the cast, and the audience in turn. Guest Lauren (Stephanie Beatriz), sort of believes but is just up for a fun boozy night, where her new partner Ben (James Buckley) is an excitable believer. It’s a nice balance against husband Sam who is maddeningly cynical, and wife Jenny who is exasperatingly histrionic.

The play is perforated with a harrowing scream throughout, which, after maybe the first one, doesn’t really make sense. Its purpose seems only to make the audience jump and to irritate me, which is a shame because the plot is plenty unnerving without it, and if anything, it’s quite distracting, causing a kind of pantomime effect with the audience who, having jumped out of their skins, end up laughing and talking amongst themselves after each one.

Beatriz and Buckley are an unlikely duo on paper perhaps, but combined they are the absolute shining stars of this production. Both known for their previous comic roles, each employs deft comic timing as a mood-lifter as well as a creation of awkward, sometimes painful intensity. It’s artistry to be able to make an audience laugh whilst simultaneously furthering the tension. They also both show themselves to be serious actors, with plenty of emotional scope.

Cowan is playful and gratingly smug, whilst retaining his humanity. He does well to appear not to realise his negative effect on those around him, keeping him on just about the right side of likeable.

Fletcher, however, pitches herself at around 9 from the very beginning and therefore has very little room for growth in hysteria and upset. It would be far more affecting if she had played at least the first half as β€˜mildly irritated’ rather than β€˜capsizingly distressed’. But if you don’t want it to ruin the rest of the story, you have to actively decide that maybe her character is just quite annoying but still deserving of sympathy.
This is not ground-breaking work, and the final explanation of the ghostly occurrences (don’t worry, I’m not going to ruin it) is only just about satisfying. But it’s ideal wintery entertainment; a titillating plot with genuinely intriguing characters and relationships, and surprisingly funny.

 

 

Reviewed by Miriam Sallon

Photography by Helen Murray

 


2:22 – A Ghost Story

Gielgud Theatre until 12th February

 

Previously reviewed by Miriam this year:
A Merchant of Venice | β˜…Β½ | November 2021
Aaron And Julia | β˜…β˜…Β½ | September 2021
La Clique | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | November 2021
Lava | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | July 2021
My Son’s A Queer But What Can You Do | β˜…β˜…β˜…Β½ | June 2021
Reunion | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | May 2021
Tarantula | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | April 2021
Tender Napalm | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | October 2021
The Narcissist | β˜…β˜…β˜… | July 2021
The Sugar House | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | November 2021
White Witch | β˜…β˜… | September 2021
Cratchit | β˜…β˜…β˜… | December 2021

 

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Love and Other Acts of Violence

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Donmar Warehouse

Love and Other Acts of Violence

Donmar Warehouse

Reviewed – 15th October 2021

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“it’s essential to remind ourselves that theatre isn’t just about feel good musicals and revivals of the classics”

 

Cordelia Lynn’s new play, Love and Other Acts of Violence, is an unsettling look into how intimate relationships can be haunted by the past. In Lynn’s hands, it’s a clever premise. It’s multi-layered, complexβ€”and yet, predictable in its unraveling. It looks back into the past andβ€”just as unsettlingβ€”suggests a bleak future which, at this time of writing, doesn’t seem all that impossible. It is a timely reminder how quickly educated, civilized communities can be destroyed in a moment, if malign forces converge to set them against one another and tear them apart. Even more heartbreaking are the fates of the people caught in the middle. People just trying to live their own lives, to be true to their own cultural values, and not get drawn into fights that mean nothing to them.

It helps, then, to see the contemporary relationship between a Jewish physicist/Her and a poet of Polish descent/Him in this play asβ€”broadly speakingβ€”a series of echoes from the past that destroyed Her’s family in 1918 in what had just become Poland. We don’t learn the details of this past tragedy until the lengthy epilogue of the play, but Lynn sets about creating the inevitable revelations from the very first encounter between this ill-matched pair. He’s the idealistic firebrand at a party, invading her space as he rants passionately about poorly paid workers at the university where she is a graduate student. He notes with disdain the nice flat that he has snooped around during the party, and makes some unflattering comments about the likely owner. It turns out that it belongs to Her, the woman he is trying so hard to impress. Luckily for Him, and not so luckily for Her, she’s also kind, sensitive and intelligent, willing to forgive. This dynamic sets up the encounters that follow, becoming more intense, and violent, as the pair become lovers, then partners. The audience can only wonder why she doesn’t walk away. It’s painful to watch. And that is the point.

If we expect Lynn to stop there, however, Love and Other Acts of Violence has a couple more surprises for us. The first is a trip to a harrowingly imagined future, as the couple’s relationship deteriorates. At every point, the relationship echoes the slow, but insidious erosion of civil rights in the world around them, and hints of civil war. And then, in a magnificent moment, a coup de théÒtre indeed, Basia BiΕ„kowska’s bleak set converts from a bare space in the twenty-first century British Isles, to a meticulously detailed room in twentieth century L’viv (also LwΓ³w, or Lemberg). In the epilogue, we see how events playing out during a struggle between Poles and Ukrainians for a small piece of contested territory sets the stage for the relationship we have just witnessed. Powerful, and tragic, stuff.

The newly refurbished Donmar Warehouse is a good place for a play like this. The austere brickwork and stark lines of the auditorium focus our attention squarely where it should beβ€”on the stage, and the actors. Tom Mothersdale (as Him/Man) has the thankless task of playing the unsympathetic protagonist, and it’s to his credit that he goes for it so unstintingly. It’s easy to sympathize with Abigail Weinstock’s Her, but there’s not much for her to do except to react to His goading in the first part of Love and Other Acts of Violence. Baba (the role she takes on in the epilogue) is in some ways, a more interesting, nuanced role, and Weinstock makes the most of the opportunity. Richard Katz as Tatte is the charming, yet dolefully prescient father in the epilogue, who explains to his daughter why they have not taken the opportunity to escape to America. Director Elayce Ismail’s assured direction holds the play together, and sets the stage for each feature of this production to shine. I’ve mentioned the brilliant set design, but the sound (Richard Hammarton) and lighting (Joshua Pharo) are also noteworthy. And although there is no dramaturgy credit, the programme notes by Professor Michael Berkowitz are an absolutely essential part of understanding how this complex play fits together.

While a play like Love and Other Acts of Violence might not be everyone’s idea of how to spend a Friday night in the theatre, it’s important to remind ourselves that theatre isn’t just about feel good musicals and revivals of the classics. There are times when playwrights have to be the Cassandras of their generation, and fortunately for us, Cordelia Lynn knows how to rise to the challenge. I urge you to see this show.

 

Reviewed by Dominica Plummer

Photography by Helen Murray

 


Love and Other Acts of Violence

Donmar Warehouse until 27th November

 

Previously reviewed this year by Dominica:
Public Domain | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | Online | January 2021
The Sorcerer’s Apprentice | β˜…β˜…β˜… | Online | February 2021
Adventurous | β˜…β˜…Β½ | Online | March 2021
Overflow | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | Sadler’s Wells Theatre | May 2021
Stags | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | Network Theatre | May 2021
The Sorrows of Satan | β˜…β˜…β˜… | Online | May 2021
Doctor Who Time Fracture | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | Unit HQ | June 2021
In My Own Footsteps | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | Book Review | June 2021
L’Egisto | β˜…β˜…β˜… | Cockpit Theatre | June 2021
Luck be a Lady | β˜…β˜…β˜… | White Bear Theatre | June 2021
Wild Card | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | Sadler’s Wells Theatre | June 2021
Starting Here, Starting Now | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | Waterloo East Theatre | July 2021
The Game Of Love And Chance | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | Arcola Theatre | July 2021
The Ladybird Heard | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | Palace Theatre | July 2021
Rune | β˜…β˜…β˜… | Round Chapel | August 2021
Roots | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | Wilton’s Music Hall | October 2021
The Witchfinder’s Sister | β˜…β˜…β˜… | Queen’s Theatre Hornchurch | October 2021
Rice | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | Orange Tree Theatre | October 2021

 

Click here to see our most recent reviews