★★★

“Undoubtedly audacious and innovative, “Bluets” defies categorisation.”

“Suppose I were to begin by saying that I had fallen in love with a colour”. So begins both Maggie Nelson’s 2009 novel, and Margaret Perry’s stage adaptation of the same title. If you wanted to find Nelson’s original in a bookshop, it would be filed under ‘poetry’. It comprises 240 prose poems that, although disjointed, explores the themes of sadness, grief and heartbreak. The colour blue is the obvious common thread which gets woven into the short essays like a Satin Bowerbird would decorate its nest with blue items.

Being unfamiliar with Nelson’s novella (as I am) is no handicap when approaching Perry’s interpretation. Every spoken word is lifted from Nelson’s text and moulded into an hour-long monologue, narrated by three actors all playing the same character. They each express the author’s innermost thoughts in an understated fashion that sometimes borders on whispering. The most striking feature is the staging. One cannot fail to notice the bank of cameras occupying the space, and the large video screen across the back wall. The impulse is to groan inwardly. There’s so much of it about at the moment; with Jamie Lloyd repeating the technique for his latest two productions, and even Ivo van Hove jumping on the bandwagon. But you have to remember that director Katie Mitchell pioneered the form, coining it ‘live cinema’ as far back as 2006.

The intention is that the audience are watching a film being made in real time while the finished product is projected onto the screen above the action. In reality, “Bluets” comes across more as a radio play than a film, and the transition from the spoken word to the visual perspective is often a distraction rather than an enhancement. It is ingeniously realised though. With the use of props and a mix of close ups and superimposed backdrops the impression of watching a film is uncannily simulated. We are often in awe at the technical wizardry, not to mention the concentration and prowess of the backstage crew. But the content inevitably suffers, and is overshadowed. So much so that we also forget the starry line up in the cast.

Ben Whishaw, Emma D’Arcy and Kayla Meikle are A, B and C respectively. But it doesn’t matter, as A, B and C are all the same person. The three performers move and speak as one, finishing each other’s sentences and covering up each other’s frequent non-sequiturs. It often resembles the childhood game of ‘Consequences’, but more grown up and sadly duller. Which is a shame. Stripped of the cleverness that surrounds them, the words would resonate much more if allowed to speak for themselves. Nelson’s writing is beautifully rhythmic, reflective and evocative. There are frequent pauses in the pathos and the poetry. The tight choreography of monologue and movement trips every so often as we worry that a prop is delivered correctly and on time, or that the actor is still on the right page.

Amid the clutter of a film set and the chaos of non-chronological shooting, it is only in the editing room that the vision begins to become coherent. In “Bluets” we get the sense that we are watching the raw material, and we are given little time or space to reflect on what the performers are saying. We are left with having to try and decipher it later, but at least are inspired to root out the original book.

Undoubtedly audacious and innovative, “Bluets” defies categorisation. Sometimes dreamlike, it also shows the grinding cogs that conjure the dreams. It verges on being hypnotic while narrowly avoiding soporific. The hour does seem to stretch, but the urge to look at our watches is mercifully suppressed enough as we are occasionally caught off guard by a moving and lyrical turn of phrase. An intriguing piece of theatre and at times a poignant exploration of grief, loneliness, sadness, heartbreak – but also pleasure. Yet the true emotion is hard to locate in this interpretation and only really tracked down in retrospect; like “a pile of thin blue gels scattered on the stage long after the show has come and gone”. It’s a challenge, but one worth taking.

THE TAILOR-MADE MAN at the Stage Door Theatre

★★★★

“Pilcher magnificently captures Haines’ free spirit and rebelliousness”

In 1930, William Haines was listed as the top box-office attraction in Hollywood. Just three years later, however, having made the successful transition to ‘talkies’, Haines’ contract was torn up by studio chief at MGM – Louis B. Mayer – and he was thrown out of the studio. Haines had lived the Bohemian lifestyle of Tinseltown, relying on the studio ‘fixers’ and his PR men to buy the silence of the press. When that eventually failed, the studio bosses sought to silence Haines instead. Almost overnight his name was removed from history and all his movies were withdrawn and locked in a vault where they stayed, unseen, for over sixty years. Why?

Claudio Macor’s play, “The Tailor-Made Man”, charts his story. In today’s society it is unthinkable that Haines was treated the way he was, although there are sadly still remnants of the hypocrisy and double standards that litter the cutting room floors of Hollywood. Haines was openly gay (a dangerous thing to be one hundred years ago) and living with his lifelong partner Jimmie Shields. He refused to bow to the demands of Louis B. Mayer and give Shields up to marry the silent screen vamp Pola Negri, and he paid for it with his career.

Although that is the focus of the story, Macor places it within the wider context of Hollywood in the late twenties and early thirties, throwing light too on some of the more colourful characters that populated that world. In rose-tinted hindsight it is seen as a Golden Age, but Macor’s astute observations unveil the cruel mechanics beneath its glossy, silver-screened veneer. We first see Haines introduced to MGM having been spotted in a talent contest. A mannequin in the eyes of Mayer, naked, blank and ripe to be tailor-made into the next matinee idol. Hugo Pilcher, however, plays him as no dummy. Although initially wide eyed, Pilcher magnificently captures Haines’ free spirit and rebelliousness. Uninhibited and frank, he fearlessly does what he pleases, which is a blessing and a curse. Not always a sympathetic character, his circumstances and Pilcher’s portrayal ensure that we root for him to the end.

With him to the end is Jimmie Shields. Gwithian Evans successfully conveys the bond that keep them together. It is often stretched to breaking point, but Shields always manages to prevent it snapping. Evans shows us the deep frustration but also the devotion and loyalty that is strong enough to bear the Californian heat. Intermittently breaking out of character, Evans uses the transitions to narrate key elements of the story. Split into distinct chapters, the locations and context are beamed onto the back wall like silent movie captions. With Robert McWhir’s uncluttered direction, the story is as clear cut as the finest crystal champagne glass.

Dereck Walker’s depiction of a monstrous, homophobic Louis B. Mayer verges on caricature until we are struck by the frightening realisation that Walker’s interpretation might not be far from the truth at all. An imposing stage presence, that is matched by Peter Rae’s jittery PR guy – Howard Strickling. Sympathetic but obsequious his thankless task is to please everybody. And you know what happens when you do that. Rae, without any need for a physical makeover or visible costume change, brilliantly doubles as Hollywood hack, Victor Darrow, who yearns for the rain-drenched culture of English theatre, but cannot tear himself from the sun, and the sweaty sexuality of Haines and Shields that he likes to bathe in just as much.

The performances, and the writing, draw us into the fascinating story, made more poignant by the fact that this is a true story. But Macor never lets it get too serious. Shelley Rivers is a sunny delight as Marion Davies, even though probably the least researched character, but then again there isn’t the time or space to delve into Davies’ colourful and multi-faceted life. Olivia Ruggiero displays great versatility, as Mayer’s flirtatious secretary, but more significantly lampooning the great Pola Negri, yet still managing to inject a sadness into the character while she draws laughs from the audience.

This is a concise telling of an important slice of movie history. It focuses on some severe injustices, but the lens pans out to reveal a panorama. Evans slips back into narrator mode to deliver an epilogue that reinstates a sense of hope and survival. That to be yourself is, ultimately, a triumph. Similarly, this revival, in the recently opened Stage Door Theatre, above a Covent Garden pub, is also a triumph.

Tag Archives: Jonathan Evans

BLUETS

★★★

Royal Court Theatre

BLUETS at the Royal Court Theatre

★★★

“Undoubtedly audacious and innovative, “Bluets” defies categorisation.”

BLUETS at the Royal Court Theatre

Reviewed on 24th May 2024

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Camilla Greenwood

Previously reviewed at this venue:

GUNTER | ★★★★ | April 2024

COWBOIS | ★★★★★ | January 2024

MATES IN CHELSEA | ★★★ | November 2023

CUCKOO | ★★½ | July 2023

BLACK SUPERHERO | ★★★★ | March 2023

FOR BLACK BOYS … | ★★★★★ | April 2022

BLUETS

BLUETS

Click here to see our Recommended Shows page

THE TAILOR-MADE MAN

★★★★

Stage Door Theatre

THE TAILOR-MADE MAN at the Stage Door Theatre

★★★★

“Pilcher magnificently captures Haines’ free spirit and rebelliousness”