Tag Archives: Julie LeGrand

FILUMENA

★★★★

UK Tour

FILUMENA at the Theatre Royal Windsor

★★★★

“There are complex emotions and issues on show here, that are delivered with warmth and humour – and at times with quite a punch”

The opening of Eduardo De Filippo’s “Filumena” finds the title character on her deathbed with Domenico, her partner of twenty-five years, gallantly agreeing to marry her before she gasps her last breath. However, we never see this – it all happens before curtain-up, in another room of Domenico’s opulent Neapolitan villa. What we do witness, though, is the aftermath when Filumena miraculously springs back to life and the ruse is revealed.

Matthew Kelly, as Domenico, is in his element as he wails to the heavens at the injustices of finding himself duped. Not only is his pride wounded, but his plans of marrying the much younger Diana are annihilated. Felicity Kendal’s Filumena is no fool. A pocket-rocket of passion she gives as good as she gets, and we soon learn that her motives are far more honourable than mere vengeance. The couple have lived together for a quarter of a century, ever since the wealthy Domenico lured Filumena away from her life of prostitution and, although that particular career path is a thing of the past, there are three things that have followed her into her dotage. Namely three sons – now strapping lads in their mid-twenties. Filumena wants the wedding ring on her finger to legitimise them. Domenico is having none of that; so cue the lawyers, tantrums, buried grievances, hidden mistresses, histrionics and De Filippo’s gorgeous, if lengthy, dialogue. The two protagonists have much to get their teeth into, and they do so with abandoned relish.

The Italian fervour is slightly sanded down in Keith Waterhouse and Willis Hall’s translation, but it still retains a potent mix of acidity and affection. Kendal transforms her character from that of a calculated schemer to a woman with a deep inner strength, warmth and hard-won resolve. Kelly’s sense of privilege is challenged, not just by his mistress, but by an awakening empathy and brooding responsibility. It is no spoiler to tell you that one of Filumena’s sons turns out to be Domenico’s too. But which one? The second act opens with a delicious scene in which Domenico steers the seemingly casual conversation to try and detect in the young men any genetic similarities to himself.

But it is far from a two-hander. The supporting cast are excellent. Gavin Fowler, Fabrizio Santino and George Banks each have a chance to share the spotlight. It is perhaps a little odd that they are so accepting of their new circumstances, having only recently discovered who their mother is. We presume, too, that they have each been brought up independently, although the sibling dynamic is strong. Sarah Twomey’s Lucia, the maid, is loving the family upheaval. Flirtatious and vivacious, Twomey lights up the stage at every opportunity.

Morgan Large’s lush drawing room set gives us a real sense of grandeur although less of a feel of the period and the Neapolitan, sun-kissed location. Yet it sits well with the timeless nature of the action. There might have been more resonance when Filippo wrote the play in the immediate aftermath of the second world war, but the more contemporary backdrop translates well, sometimes making the wavering Italian accents seem unnecessary.

Sean Mathias’ slick direction vividly animates the static setting. It is a very wordy play, but at least there are as many moments of humour as well as insight and wisdom that Mathias brings to the fore. And the lead performers’ energy refuse to allow any dull moments to slip in. There are complex emotions and issues on show here, that are delivered with warmth and humour – and at times with quite a punch. When Filumena finally learns how to cry, we feel her tears too, yet the journey there has also been filled with plenty of laughter.


FILUMENA at the Theatre Royal Windsor followed by UK Tour

Reviewed on 9th October 2024

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Jack Merriman

 

 

 

 

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

THE GATES OF KYIV | ★★★★ | September 2024
ACCOLADE | ★★★½ | June 2024
OH WHAT A LOVELY WAR | ★★★★ | April 2024
CLOSURE | ★★★★ | February 2024
THE GREAT GATSBY | ★★★ | February 2024
ALONE TOGETHER | ★★★★ | August 2023
BLOOD BROTHERS | ★★★★★ | January 2022
THE CHERRY ORCHARD | ★★★★ | October 2021

FILUMENA

FILUMENA

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TWELFTH NIGHT

★★★★★

Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre

TWELFTH NIGHT at Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre

★★★★★

“The emotional stakes reach the treetops in the park. The magic shoots for the stars. It is innovative, funny, cheeky, camp and degenerate.”

I’ve never really been sure where Illyria was geographically, but walking away from Regent’s Park, as the moon rises and the lights twinkle through the greenery, the urge to pinpoint it on the map is great. It seems to be somewhere between Montenegro and Croatia. But what a fabulous holiday destination it would make. Not for the sun and the sea, mind. But the locals. According to Owen Horsley’s louche version of “Twelfth Night”, there’s a little harbour café, named after its eccentric owner, Olivia. Its décor as unprincipled as the people that gather there, full of debauchery, music, liquor and queerness. It is Olivia’s world. Played by the tremendous Anna Francolini, Olivia grandly presents herself, channelling Norma Desmond, veiled in black lace and bluesy piano chords in five-four time. Belting ballads and clutching her brother’s ashes, Francolini sets the tone. Loud in her grief, silent in her longing, and always self-mocking.

You just want to go there and while away the early hours with this motley crew. The bar has seen better days. And so has Sir Toby Belch. Michael Matus, as off-duty and off-his-head drag queen, is a loveably licentious Toby, smeared in campness and lipstick. Matthew Spencer’s Andrew Aguecheek is a foppish travelling salesman type. A sofa-crasher, teetering on the verge of outstaying his welcome. Anita Reynold’s Maria is on hand to out-mischief her mischievous colleagues, while Julie Legrand’s Feste is primed with wistful wisdom, ready to out-sing her hostess. Weaving himself into the throng is Malvolio, a deliciously prim Richard Cant with sinewy self-righteousness, flexing his indignation like a haughty schoolmistress.

 

 

The band of musicians add merriment and melancholy in equal measure. Late night jazz adds magic to the twilight while a saxophone cries to the moon. The intended queerness that Horsley is unearthing from Shakespeare’s text is less a celebration than an extra layer. What comes across more is the eccentricity and the camaraderie, the joie-de-vivre and the affectionate rivalry. Shipwrecked, and stumbling into this mayhem, Viola (the brilliantly sassy Evelyn Miller) surprisingly takes it all in her stride. Mind you, she has just run into the dashing Orsino (a thoughtful and commanding Raphael Bushay), so her mind is on other matters. Dressed as a boy – Cesario – she is reluctantly despatched to persuade Olivia of Orsino’s unrequited love. But damn it all – Olivia swoops out of her veil to pop her lusty eyes on the alluring amorousness that Cesario/Viola exudes.

Interestingly, the secondary plotline explores the unrequited love more convincingly. Antonio draws the short straw, always the one left alone at the end of the play. Nicholas Karimi is a potent symbol of loyalty, also subtly conveying the shadowed buds of love for Sebastian. Andro Cowperthwaite (a dead-ringer for Miller’s Viola), while returning the affection has the thankless task of being too easily seduced by Olivia. We never lose sympathy, but the haste with which the happy couples all come together is a flaw which dents our empathy. Similarly, the cruelty towards Malvolio fails to come across sufficiently, and his vow for revenge resembles a telling off in an unruly classroom. What is achieved, however, is a novel and refreshing sense of forgiveness, which steers us towards a finale steeped in affection and fellowship.

The emotional stakes reach the treetops in the park. The magic shoots for the stars. It is innovative, funny, cheeky, camp and degenerate. Again, if only this bar could be found in a holiday brochure. I’d be there like a shot. You just want to spend as much time as possible with these characters. Well – actually – you can do that by going to the Open Air Theatre in Regent’s Park. And I strongly urge you to do so.


TWELFTH NIGHT at Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre

Reviewed on 9th May 2024

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Richard Lakos

 

 

 

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

LA CAGE AUX FOLLES | ★★★★★ | August 2023
ROBIN HOOD: THE LEGEND. RE-WRITTEN | ★★ | June 2023
ONCE ON THIS ISLAND | ★★★★ | May 2023
LEGALLY BLONDE | ★★★ | May 2022
ROMEO AND JULIET | ★★★½ | June 2021

Twelfth Night

Twelfth Night

Click here to see our Recommended Shows page