“It’s not quite bawdy enough to warrant its music hall credentials, although it does draw enough lascivious laughs to tip it over the watershed”
‘David Copperfield’ has come to be regarded as Charles Dicken’s favourite, mainly because it is his most autobiographical. Certain episodes of his life are thinly disguised. Dickens himself, however, was at pains to stress that the book was not pure documentary, but a “complicated weaving of truth and invention”. Simon Reade’s adaptation embraces this concept by presenting a faithful and true interpretation of the novel, interlaced with lavish threads of inventiveness.
Set in a music hall atmosphere, just three actors – Christopher Buckley, Katy Owen and James Peake – perform the many characters that burst from Dickens’ pages. To be more specific; Buckley plays the eponymous Copperfield, while the other two play everybody else. Owen and Peake open proceedings, gate-crashing into the auditorium at Riverside Studios, sweeping us back in time with their Victoriana attire and attitude, but also keeping us in contemporary reality with modern expletives. It’s a daring mix that informs the show, but the combination threatens sometimes to throw it off course.
First staged last summer at Frinton Summer Theatre, it has made the journey from the coast to the city, a little unsure of the audience it is expecting, or aiming for. “David Copperfield” shoots a little too high for the family crowd, but too low for an adult audience. It’s not quite bawdy enough to warrant its music hall credentials, although it does draw enough lascivious laughs to tip it over the watershed. Despite this, it still seems misplaced in the evening slot, yet it certainly wouldn’t slip into the school run schedule.
Yet the energy radiating from the performers would definitely outrun anyone a fraction of their age. Buckley is the calmer of the three, having the luxury of focusing on the main character, which doesn’t mean it makes his job easier. Throwing gender specifics out of the window (a necessary choice) Peake takes on – among others – the faithful maid Clara Peggotty, eccentric aunt Betsey Trotwood, love interest Dora and a deliciously camp Wilkins Micawber. Meanwhile Owen tears through – again among others – a cool James Steerforth, Agnes Wickfield, Emily, Uriah Heep, Ham Peggotty, and a show-stealing Emma Micawber. Owen has the skill to throw fresh light onto our preconceptions of Dickens’ characters. At times, however, the scale of the multi-rolling appears to be a challenge to the performers’ versatility, which paradoxically lessens the challenge for the audience so our attention slips.
But after interval, the game steps up, and the show starts to grow into itself. There is more nuance and more depth and, as the characters begin to win our sympathy, we find we start to care a little bit more. Conversely, there is a noticeable drop in the musical numbers, so when Buckley does finally break into song it is a bit of a jolt. Not always a seamless addition to the narrative, Chris Larner’s compositions serve up a nice portion of comedy and variety, accompanied by MD Tom Knowles; an enigmatic and charismatic presence behind his piano, observing with a deadpan intensity.
There are echoes of ‘Kneehigh’ in the performances, and particularly in Emily Raymond’s spirited staging. It takes a while, though, for us to appreciate all the subtlety and ingenuity of the production. It is as though the cast only really start to feel comfortable mid-way through. But we are left with a warm feeling in our hearts when the piece comes full circle and the troupe pack away the tale back into the trunk. The fourth wall is breached once more, and we are ready to meet these players in the bar and buy them a congratulatory pint.
“Relevant, gripping, foreboding and ultimately touching.”
“The Lehman Trilogy”, spanning over 150 years, is ostensibly an epic drama; an intricate portrayal of a dynasty following fortune and misfortune. Yet it is so much more. The sum of its parts adds up to one of the most extraordinary theatrical experiences. On paper, it is hard to see why. It is nearly three and a half hours long and it charts, in considerable detail, the rocky road of global capitalism, focusing of course on the Lehman brothers. Much of the narrative is unseen, exposed only through the spoken word. But a lecture it most certainly isn’t. A lesson, yes! Stefano Massini’s three act play (adapted by Ben Power) is a fable, parable, an allegory. It is poetry. A magical music box of stagecraft, where style and emotion meet in perfect harmony. A strikingly evocative human tale. And above all, a masterclass in acting.
It all begins on September 11th, 1844. Henry Lehman (Nigel Lindsay), the son of a Jewish merchant, emigrates to America from Bavaria, settling in Alabama; followed by his two brothers – Emanuel (Michael Balogun) and Mayer (Hadley Fraser) – a few years later. We warm to them immediately as they triumph over adversity. We are lulled into the humanity and gentleness with which they fairly rapidly achieve wealth, forgetting momentarily that what follows is a harsh cross-examination of the American Dream. Initially relying on slavery, the Lehmans soon learn to reap profit from disaster (other peoples’). The portents are planted. Yet the family firm survives for a century and a half, weathering the crash of 1929, but finally being swept under by the financial crisis of 2008.
In three acts, Sam Mendes’ production does not flag for one second. And even in its most blatant moments of exposition we are still gripped. Highly stylised, the narrative comes full circle, framed within Es Devlin’s rotating glass and metal set – softened by the symbolism of towering and cascading cardboard boxes. Luke Halls’ mostly monochrome video projections provide a shifting, panoramic backdrop – at key moments bursting into flames of colour and breath-taking movement. Nick Powell’s music underscores throughout, played live by pianist Yshani Perinpanayagam. A cycle of musical phrases and variations, sublime and subliminal, responding to every moment like a lover’s breath. At times restless, playful; sometimes achingly abandoned. All bookended with the evocative Jewish lullaby, ‘Rozhinkes Mit Mandlen’.
But the essence of the piece shines through the finesse and virtuosity of the trio of actors. Lindsay opens as the pioneering spirit Henry, followed by Balogun’s Emanuel and Fraser’s Mayer. Each of them singularly extraordinary and collectively unforgettable. As the timeline stretches, they switch genders to portray multiple characters, while seamlessly shifting down through the generations, morphing into the brothers’ descendants with astonishing versatility. In true tragedian style, the ending is inevitable and as it approaches the pace becomes more frantic – folding in on itself, racing against itself and racing ahead of itself. The events depicted are complex and ethically dubious. “I didn’t try to win… I decided to win”. A mantra that epitomises the Lehman’s strategies that left nothing to chance. The real winner, however, in this saga is the audience.
“The Lehman Trilogy” is a multi-layered extravaganza. Relevant, gripping, foreboding and ultimately touching. Never has capitalism been dressed up in such an alluring metaphor. We are almost seduced. But we are definitely seduced by the quality of the performances. An unmissable triumph that reminds us of theatre’s raison d’être.
