Tag Archives: Jonathan Guy Lewis

A THING OF BEAUTY

★★★★

Theatre at the Tabard

A THING OF BEAUTY

Theatre at the Tabard

★★★★

“refuses to pass judgement, leaving instead a residue of discomfort that invites reflection on where one has turned a blind eye”

A Thing of Beauty confronts head-on a discomfiting question: should artistic brilliance be allowed to exist independently of moral responsibility? Writers Wendy Oberman and Jonathan Lewis have created a gripping drama in which ambition and manipulation battle truth and integrity, and the audience is caught squarely in the firing line.

Set in October 1972, the play imagines an in-depth BBC interview with Leni Riefenstahl. She was a highly-accomplished German filmmaker during the Nazi period. Her revolutionary techniques inspired George Lucas and Steven Spielberg, yet her legacy was permanently over-shadowed by her service to Nazi ideology.

Imogen Stubbs is magnetic in her portrayal of a woman whose charm, vanity and self-justification coexist in uneasy balance. Referring to herself in the third person throughout, Leni simultaneously elevates her achievements and distances herself from the uncomfortable truth they represent. It is hard to feel much sympathy, despite her protestations about a difficult childhood and an all-consuming creative drive. That she achieved such creative dominance within a regime that prescribed domesticity for women adds a further uncomfortable layer, one the play leaves the audience to sit with.

Tony Bell is a convincing Harry, the BBC interviewer who must maintain professional focus whilst simultaneously confronting his own demons. He is, by turns, vulnerable to Leni’s considerable charms and fiercely critical of her motives. The interview becomes an electric psychological duel: intimate, taut and genuinely unsettling.

The ensemble of Tony Boncza, Harry Bradley, Thomas Craig, Sophie McMahon and Harry Rundle provide a compelling dramatic frame; their on-stage presence as waiting crew members sharpens the sense that everyone here has something to conceal. The production’s most pointed observation is that Leni is far from alone in placing ambition (dressed up as art) above everything else.

Juliette Demoulin’s spare set is stripped back to essentials, letting the verbal exchanges carry full weight. Mark Dymock’s lighting shifts with quiet precision between the clinical and the conspiratorial, while Simon Slater’s understated sound design steadily deepens the creeping unease. Director Jonathan Lewis, who also co-wrote the piece, keeps pacing taut throughout, resisting the temptation to over-signpost the ethical questions and allowing their implications to surface with admirable restraint.

That restraint is ultimately the production’s defining strength. A Thing of Beauty refuses to pass judgement, leaving instead a residue of discomfort that invites reflection on where one has turned a blind eye, sidestepped the truth or been complicit. Produced by Denise Silvey for Cahoots Theatre Company, this assured world premiere offers no comfort, only the unsettling recognition that history’s most beautiful images may conceal its most troubling truths.



A THING OF BEAUTY

Theatre at the Tabard

Reviewed on 26th February 2026

by Elizabeth Botsford

Photography by Matt Hunter


 

 

 

 

A THING OF BEAUTY

A THING OF BEAUTY

A THING OF BEAUTY

I Found My Horn

I Found My Horn

★★★★

White Bear Theatre

I FOUND MY HORN at the White Bear Theatre

★★★★

I Found My Horn

“Burton’s brisk direction of the piece highlights Lewis’ striking performance”

 

In the course of history there has been much written about the role of music and its importance in our lives. Perhaps it is the greatest creation of mankind. The greatest form of expression. Among its countless attributes, most people discover – at some point or other – music to be a way to escape from the pain of life. Jasper Rees, the protagonist of the one-man, semi-autobiographical “I Found My Horn” would certainly, if reluctantly, agree. We meet Jasper as he climbs into the attic of his former home to sort out and pack up the last few pieces of a broken life. The attic (a superbly and evocatively created design by Alex Marker) is a cave of intimate nostalgia and memories. Divorce has driven him here, with a mid-life crisis for a back seat driver.

That all sounds pretty grim, but it is merely a starting point and, in the hands of Jonathan Guy Lewis as the luckless Jasper, the feelgood factor is off the scale during the ensuing eighty minutes of joyous, warm-hearted-theatre. Written by Lewis, with Jasper Rees, it is based on the latter’s book published in 2008. The pair teamed up with director Harry Burton to create the show which opened in London in 2009. Lewis’s character has grown older since then: the text has been slightly altered to accommodate the advancing years, but the sentiment, the meaning and the comedy are as powerful as ever.

Rather than finding the French horn in his attic, it is as though the horn has summoned Jasper. It speaks to him, begging to be freed from its dusty case and given back its purpose. They can help each other out here. It has been thirty-nine years since Jasper last picked it up and now, as he tentatively holds it in his hands, he regales us with the memories it triggers: and the renewed ambition it stirs up. He attends the British Horn Society’s annual concert and decides to play Mozart’s Horn Concerto No3 at the event the following year. He attends a ‘Horn Camp’ in America which simultaneously crushes and ignites his ambition. Meanwhile we are treated to flashbacks to his school days and humiliating moments in the orchestra. Lewis switches hilariously and seamlessly between all the characters that crowd his past and present, adopting mannerisms and accents that are spot-on. He has an astoundingly natural ability to make them heightened yet recognisable and real. Even the French horn itself is given an endearing personality. And, as Jasper, we instantly relate to the man, and to his dreams and regrets.

It is no spoiler to reveal that Jasper achieves his objective and is given a solo slot at the concert. It is his journey there that captivates us. Burton’s brisk direction of the piece highlights Lewis’ striking performance. We effortlessly perceive the complex layers inherent in the writing that in lesser hands might have been muddied. The horn itself is undoubtedly a metaphor – a kind of “Sparky’s Magic Piano” for grown-ups. Ultimately it is a very moving story, not just of making music, but of facing your demons. But it is best not to over analyse. Just revel in the humour and forget the symbolism. It is a joyous and heart-warming performance.

 

 

Reviewed on 2nd February 2023

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Max Hamilton-Mackenzie

 

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

 

Luck be a Lady | ★★★ | June 2021
Marlowe’s Fate | ★★★ | November 2021
Us | ★★★★ | February 2022
The Silent Woman | ★★★★ | April 2022
The Midnight Snack | ★★★ | December 2022

 

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