Tag Archives: Jonathan Evans

SLAUGHTERHOUSE-FIVE

★★★★

Southwark Playhouse Borough

SLAUGHTERHOUSE-FIVE

Southwark Playhouse Borough

★★★★

“There is an awful lot to absorb, but the company delivers the punches with refreshing jabs of comedy”

When Kurt Vonnegut’s novel, ‘Slaughterhouse-Five’ was published at the end of the 1960s, it quickly caught the imagination of the young generation and turned Vonnegut into an overnight sensation. An odd book, to say the least, it is both an antiwar novel and a science fiction. As a rite of passage, I remember giving it a go in my late teens, with limited success. Before seeing the stage show I brushed up on the synopsis and, on my advice, my partner read the Wikipedia summary. “How on earth are they going to stage this?” she asked just before curtain-up, succinctly echoing my own thoughts. Ninety-five minutes later, during an enthusiastic ovation, we have our answer. Eric Simonson’s adaptation is a remarkably creative piece of stage craft as it welds the fragmented narrative into a shape that pretty much resembles clarity.

The story centres on Billy Pilgrim (Patrick McAndrew), who has become ‘unstuck in time’. A character who is free from the illusion that one moment follows on from another. The past, present and future co-exist allowing him to flit from one to the other with ease. Thankfully the audience is given captions as to the ‘where and when’ for each scene – we would be lost without them. The story follows three decades (but not necessarily in the right order) of Billy’s life beginning with his time as a chaplain’s assistant during World War II during which he is captured and becomes a Prisoner of War. He survives the Allied firebombing of Dresden, and is later discharged with PTSD, spends time in a veterans’ hospital, marries, has kids, becomes a successful optometrist. But then he is abducted by aliens and taken to their planet – Tralfamadore – where he is kept as a zoo exhibit (whilst also impregnating a fellow abductee – a pornographic film star). Returning to earth he is reunited with his wife, survives a plane crash but is later assassinated while giving a speech about his time travels.

“All this happened… more or less” explains the narrator, enhancing the fantastical nature of the hero’s odyssey. In fact, there are three narrators, who also take on a ridiculous number of multiple roles that support Billy’s meandering fatalism. McAndrew wonderfully portrays the fish-out-of-water character with a mix of bemusement, nihilism, humour and philosophical insight that eventually cuts quite deep. Alex Crook, Ethan Reid and Sofia Engstrand play everyone else; impossibly switching between roles, locations and time. Often the indicators are tiny and the nuances subtle, but we never lose sight of who they are.

It is a truly collaborative enterprise. A juggling act with director Douglas Baker managing to keep all the balls in the air throughout. And alongside the fabulous four cast members, Baker’s video design is a fifth star of the show, the intricacy of which is rarely seen off the West End. Using both the back wall and a gossamer gauze downstage, the worlds the characters inhabit are brought to magical life. The timing is crucial, too, as the performers interact with the projections which are simultaneously enchanting and informative. It is relatively low-tech but, as they say, limitations breed ingenuity. An ethos that shapes the whole show. There is a shabby chic quality – a ramshackle atmosphere that is also extremely sleek. Like well-rehearsed chaos. We are reminded at times of The Goon Show with its mix of anarchic surrealism and rapid-fire nonsense. But beneath the humour the tragedy unfolds, until it is impossible to ignore the all-important messages laid out in a quite moving finale.

But it seems that humanity too often ignores them. Vonnegut’s story is a frightening loop. The atrocities that have gone before us are constantly being replayed. This theatrical revival is timely. There is an awful lot to absorb, but the company delivers the punches with refreshing jabs of comedy. We need to be on our toes, but with neither room nor time for distraction, this is an intensely captivating show.



SLAUGHTERHOUSE-FIVE

Southwark Playhouse Borough

Reviewed on 5th June 2026

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Henry Hu

 

 

 

 

 

SLAUGHTERHOUSE-FIVE

SLAUGHTERHOUSE-FIVE

SLAUGHTERHOUSE-FIVE

THE MARQUISE

★★★★

UK Tour

THE MARQUISE

Theatre Royal Windsor

★★★★

“this production places Coward’s inherent humour, intelligence and wit fully under the spotlight”

Noël Coward’s romantic comedy play, “The Marquise”, was already his thirteenth full-length play – written at the tender age of twenty-eight. Up to that point, his work always had a contemporary setting, but this latest offering (which he himself described as a ‘tenuous, frivolous little piece’) found him exploring the early eighteenth century, just outside Paris. Philip Wilson’s revival keeps the action in France but takes it back to more familiar Coward territory in which we find ourselves immersed in the glamour of the 1930s. Tuxedos and taffeta adorn the stage as the houselights fade, revealing the art deco splendour of Colin Falconer’s streamlined set. We are in the lacquered interior of Raoul de Vriaac’s chateau, celebrating the engagement of his daughter Adrienne to the son of his old friend, Esteban.

At first, the transposition is a seemingly inspired choice made by Wilson, who directs with the panache and fluidity of a Coward connoisseur. But then again, it is also an obvious choice given the character of the quintessential dialogue; the beauty of which wouldn’t be out of place set in today’s world either. Wilson was also granted permission from the Noël Coward Estate to implement another (minor) tweak that further delivers the play from its more censored origins.

Frivolous it may be. Tenuous it certainly isn’t. The company give robust and convincing performances as they negotiate class divides while bridging the gap between the two World Wars. While the majority are still wallowing in the Roaring Twenties, patriarch Raoul is letting his mindset drift into the Great Depression. Simon Shepherd plays the misanthrope with subtle humour. Memories of the past disturb Raoul, whereas Esteban delights in the shared recollections of their debauchery. Tristan Gemmill is a silver fox, teasing his partner in crime while still holding onto the threadbare affection. Their respective children – Adrienne (Eva O’Hara) and Miguel (Barnaby Tobias) – are rebelling against the marriage their fathers have arranged for them. Adrienne is in love with Raoul’s secretary, Jacques (Albie Marber) while Miguel has fallen for a dancer in Paris.

The ensuing mix of recriminations and outrages is thrown into further disorder by the emergence of the Marquise Eloise de Kestournel. In a role that could have been written for her, Juliet Aubrey lights up the stage. She is fire and ice. The romantic and the pragmatist rolled into a cool stillness, remaining unruffled as she reveals old secrets to her two old flames. Shepherd and Gemmill, in turn, are funny and furious in their comic outrage as the revelations come to the surface.

After the interval, the style becomes more mixed. Classic Coward humour gives way to (almost) farcical scenes. In addition, there are shades of Ibsen, along with vivid splashes of Wilde. Yet the whole is never clumsy, nor contrived, even when the finale looms into plain sight. A couple of anachronisms could potentially jar; such as a fencing duel between Raoul and Esteban which is an unlikely scenario in this setting, but the two actors pull it off with their ability to mix comedy and rage with playful affection. And, of course, a Coward comedy is incomplete without a bit of music. Largely absent throughout – despite the presence of a grand piano – Aubrey eventually gets to showcase her talents further during the closing moments. A melancholy little tune, played and sung alone, slowly shapeshifts into a glorious ensemble sequence. It is a magical moment, veering off-piste slightly, but a clear signpost for the eventual coupling of these disparate characters.

“The Marquise” is one of Coward’s lesser performed plays. Transporting it to the 1930s is not merely an inspired choice; it also puts the story back where it belongs, allowing its flair to flourish. It doesn’t just shed light on family secrets and scandals, but this production places Coward’s inherent humour, intelligence and wit fully under the spotlight. Sense of style, and sense of humour, are a perfect match.



THE MARQUISE

Theatre Royal Windsor then UK Tour continues

Reviewed on 1st June 2026

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Alastair Muir


 

 

 

 

THE MARQUISE

THE MARQUISE

THE MARQUISE