Tag Archives: Hugo Glendinning

The Yellow Wallpaper

The Yellow Wallpaper

★★★

The Coronet Theatre

THE YELLOW WALLPAPER at The Coronet Theatre

★★★

The Yellow Wallpaper

“Thierrée’s skillset appears to be underused here, and her customary charisma is diluted”

Towards the end of the nineteenth century, the ‘rest cure’ was a popular and radical treatment for many mental disorders, particularly hysteria or depression. Later proven to have no benefit at all, it was almost exclusively imposed on women by male physicians. One such practitioner was Dr. Silas Weir Mitchell who treated the American writer, Charlotte Perkins Gilman, for post-natal depression, confining her to bed and banning any type of stimulus including reading, writing, painting or any social contact with the outside world. Yes – you guessed right – this just made matters worse. Fortunately, Gilman was one of the more forward-thinking feminists of the time and, after three months, defied the doctor’s orders, aware of how close she was to a complete mental breakdown. Her experience gave rise to the autobiographical novella “The Yellow Wallpaper”.

With echoes of Edgar Allan Poe, the book was categorised as a work of ‘horror fiction’ while also being hailed as a condemnation of male control in society at the time. The themes might sound dated, but in Stephanie Mohr’s staging at the Coronet Theatre, it strikes fresh chords in an age where ‘gaslighting’ is very much a buzz word. The atmosphere that filters through Gilman’s Gothic book is faithfully recreated. Instead of using the main doors to the auditorium, we are led through a dimly lit room, part nursery, part Hammer film set, the narrator’s disjointed voice leaking out of hidden speakers in the walls.

We next meet the narrator on the stage, in the form of Aurélia Thierrée. A young mother, she is confined in an attic nursery in a remote country mansion by her physician husband. At first resigned to her condition – “what can one do?” she repeatedly asks – she becomes increasingly defiant as her mental stability declines. She becomes obsessed with the wallpaper, eventually seeing a woman trapped within the patterns that she must attempt to set free. Mike Winship’s immersive and all-surrounding sound design is chilling and certainly sets the tone of the piece. While Thierrée prowls the stage, the woman she sees in the wallpaper is represented by dancer and choreographer Fukiko Takase. An extremely clever concept is in play here that confines Takase to the walls of the stage, intermittently breaking free. The effect is unsettling and powerful, reinforcing the allegorical nature of Gilman’s writing.

Ultimately it is Gilman’s text that drives the piece – which is a shame. I last saw Aurélia Thierrée at the Coronet just before lockdown in the stunningly mesmerising and dreamlike “Bells and Spells” in which she starred. Expectations are naturally high, but Thierrée’s skillset appears to be underused here, and her customary charisma is diluted, perhaps by these very expectations. A grandmaster of dance, cabaret, circus and magic, she is confined by the sole medium of the spoken word she is given. She does manage to depict, quite exceptionally, the sense of claustrophobia and disintegration, but the piece lacks the ‘Aurélian’ stamp we would hope for from this collaboration.

The production remains strong throughout, and undeniably atmospheric. But rather than hypnotic it occasionally veers towards the soporific. The concept is ingenious, the staging remarkable and the setting extraordinary. But there’s something ultimately unconvincing in the delivery that papers over the true essence of what this show could be.


THE YELLOW WALLPAPER at The Coronet Theatre

Reviewed on 26th September 2023

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Hugo Glendinning

 

 

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

Rhythm Of Human | ★★★★★ | September 2023
Lovefool | ★★★★ | May 2023
Dance Of Death | ★★★★★ | March 2023
When We Dead Awaken | ★★★★ | March 2022
Le Petit Chaperon Rouge | ★★★★ | November 2021

The Yellow Wallpaper

The Yellow Wallpaper

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The Crown Jewels

The Crown Jewels

★★★

Garrick Theatre

THE CROWN JEWELS at the Garrick Theatre

★★★

The Crown Jewels

“survives on the energy of its comedians, and the competence of the rest of the cast”

Expect to be disappointed if you turn up to the Garrick Theatre for an historically accurate show about King Charles II and the theft of the Crown Jewels in 1671. If, on the other hand, you are buying a ticket for Simon Nye’s The Crown Jewels because you know that several of Britain’s leading comedians and stand up artists are in the cast, you will probably enjoy this show. You will then, quite rightly, be expecting an entertaining evening full of ad libs and dangerously outrageous exchanges with the audience. But let me give you some words of advice anyway: gentlemen, don’t sit in the first three rows if you aren’t sporting a well made periwig. And ladies, don’t sit there either if your partner is even slightly prone to fits of jealousy. Don’t expect to be safe from the cast’s attention if you splurged on tickets for a box, either.

The facts surrounding the seventeenth century’s most notorious jewel heist are well known. But if you need a refresher, the programme notes for The Crown Jewels are well written and provide a wealth of background information about the main characters in Nye’s drama. The appropriately named Colonel Thomas Blood apparently hatched a plot to steal the Crown Jewels from the Tower of London in an attempt to recover his Irish estates. Blood lost those as a result of switching sides to support the Parliamentarians under Oliver Cromwell during the English Civil War. Hatching plots against the Crown was nothing new to Blood—he’d been involved in several—but stealing the royal regalia was the crowning event of his career, as it were. If only Nye’s play was as well constructed as the programme notes. But The Crown Jewels is a shaky mash up in Horrible Histories, Blackadder—and even Panto—territory, and we’re nowhere near panto season in August. But perhaps it doesn’t matter. The Crown Jewels has been created to provide a rich—seriously rich—backdrop for its comic stars. It’s difficult not to see the rest of the show as just adroitly crafted stage management of a complicated set with lots of changing scenery.

It takes a while to warm to The Crown Jewels, and this is mostly time spent trying to figure out the plot. The characters on stage bear no resemblance whatsoever to the historical figures they are meant to represent. But let’s list them anyway. There’s Al Murray, (of Pub Landlord fame) playing Charles II with a strangled accent, Mel Giedroyc, (Great British Bake Off) doubling as the Keeper of the Crown Jewels’ gap toothed wife and—a brilliant contrast this —a very seductive French Noblewoman; Neil Morrissey (Men Behaving Badly) as Blood’s co-conspirator Captain Perrot; and Joe Thomas (The Inbetweeners) as Blood’s son. Carrie Hope Fletcher is given the opportunity to show off her beautiful singing voice as Elizabeth Edwards. She otherwise has little else to do as the Keeper’s daughter desperately searching for a husband, if only to avoid calling the Tower of London, home. The gifted Aidan McArdle as Colonel Blood has the thankless task of acting the villain, yet manages to make him sympathetic. Adonis Siddique has the even more thankless task of supporting Charles II as a footman.

But the real crown jewel of this production is, of course, Al Murray, doing his recognizable schtick as the Merry Monarch himself. There are lots of inappropriate jokes of all kinds, involving the newly discovered banana, to mention just one routine. McArdle really had my sympathy there. And on this particular evening, Murray set up a lively exchange with a couple of audience members from Australia (still undiscovered in Charles II’s time.) The Dutch also came in for a particular roasting, as the historical Charles was still smarting, in 1671, from a daring naval attack on London. One or two supporters attempted to stand up for the poor Dutch, and were ruthlessly put back in their places. Murray knows how to work his crowd.

The Crown Jewels survives on the energy of its comedians, and the competence of the rest of the cast. The set design by Michael Taylor (who also designed the costumes) is also competent, although not, strictly speaking, historically accurate either. But pretty to look at, nonetheless. Fans of Al Murray will enjoy this show. But it’s not suitable for children, despite its similarity to panto. And The Crown Jewels won’t teach you much about the complicated politics and larger than life characters who really lived during Charles II’s reign. But it’s an enjoyable evening in the West End, nonetheless.


THE CROWN JEWELS at the Garrick Theatre

 

Reviewed on 8th August 2023

by Dominica Plummer

Photography by Hugo Glendinning

 

 

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

 

Orlando | ★★★★ | December 2022
Myra Dubois: Dead Funny | ★★★★ | September 2021

The Crown Jewels

The Crown Jewels

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