Tag Archives: Kate O’Flynn

Two Character Play

Two Character Play

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Hampstead Theatre

Two Character Play

Two Character Play

Hampstead Theatre

Reviewed – 27th July 2021

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“Occasionally melancholic, always mesmerising, totally memorable. A masterpiece of theatre”

 

β€œTo play with fear is to play with fire. No, worse, much worse, than playing with fire. Fire has limits.”

Tennessee Williams knew the importance of opening lines, and in β€œThe Two Character Play” he captures the essence of what is to come. It is simultaneously reassuring and unsettling. It’s a theme that runs through much of his earlier writing, but in this later work it is much less opaque; we know the flame won’t be held back by the yellowing parchment through which we see it flicker.

In a way Williams was playing with fire. Rather than relying on his critical and popular acclaim he wanted to experiment and expand his writing style. It met with a mixed reception at its world premiere at the Hampstead Theatre, disconcerting critics and audiences. But over half a century later it definitely bites with a sharper resonance than ever before. The timing is perfect. A two-hander, we are introduced to Felice and then his sister Clare. They are both β€œartists of the theatre. Long prepared for working under unexpected conditions”. They have been abandoned by the rest of the company but are nevertheless determined that the show must go on despite the β€œeccentricities of the time”. Suffocated by their isolation and afraid to go out, the characters’ only choices are to face each other or to face their demons.

The structure is a play within a play, and Sam Yates’ production has perfectly captured this concept. As Felice and Clare prepare for their performance the houselights remain lit, the lighting rig is at floor level and the space is littered with the props and unassembled pieces of scenery. We don’t quite know when the pre-show ends and the show begins. Just as we are never sure of the shifts between the actors and their characters; whether we are in reality or in the play. Or in the play within the play. The blurred lines are always intentional, reflecting the brother and sister losing their own grip on reality.

Zubin Varla, as Felice, and Kate O’Flynn, as Clare, are outstanding and unforgettable. The chemistry burns and crackles with an enforced intimacy and horrific backstory that keeps them forever entwined. The fire of their performance is fanned by the many refreshing waves of comedy that they bring to the roles. It’s a skill that is rarely seen in theatre and Varla and O’Flynn wield it mercilessly through their wonderful shifts in mood, without diminishing the desperation that motivates their characters.

The second act dips into a darker domain. Lee Curran’s shadowy lighting and Dan Balfour’s surround sound design heighten the mood. A false ending trips us up and unfortunately dispels the magic momentarily as we slip into a flash of Gothic Horror. But the poignancy returns as the siblings (are they the actors or are they the characters they are portraying?) start to re-enact the tragedy that befell their parents.

They are unable to see it through. It is as unresolved as the play itself, and as the couple pull the plug on proceedings they are again alone on the bare stage. Their (imagined?) audience has also abandoned them, while they are imprisoned in the theatre. Too tired to be frightened now, they realise that fear is limited. β€œClare, your mind’s going out” whispers Felice. Tennessee Williams was haunted and inspired by his sister Rose who was plagued by mental illness. β€œYou must never make fun of insanity” Rose once reproved her brother β€œIt’s worth than death”. In β€œThe Two Character Play” Felice is left a note by the company that abandoned them: β€˜Your sister and you are… insane!’. Perhaps they are, perhaps they aren’t. Varla and O’Flynn portray the characters with a perfect mix of exaggeration and sensitivity of which Williams would be proud. There is no answer really, just as the play has no real conclusion. We can part with reality at times, but we can never part with each other.

Occasionally melancholic, always mesmerising, totally memorable. A masterpiece of theatre.

 

Reviewed by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Marc Brenner

 


Two Character Play

Hampstead Theatre until 28th August

 

Reviewed by Jonathan this year:
Sherlock Holmes: The Case of the Hung Parliament | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | Online | February 2021
Bklyn The Musical | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | Online | March 2021
Remembering the Oscars | β˜…β˜…β˜… | Online | March 2021
The Picture of Dorian Gray | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | Online | March 2021
Disenchanted | β˜…β˜…β˜… | Online | April 2021
Abba Mania | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | Shaftesbury Theatre | May 2021
Cruise | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | Duchess Theatre | May 2021
Preludes in Concert | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | Online | May 2021
You Are Here | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | Southwark Playhouse | May 2021
AmΓ©lie The Musical | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | Criterion Theatre | June 2021
Bad Days And Odd Nights | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | Greenwich Theatre | June 2021
Express G&S | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | Pleasance Theatre | June 2021
Forever Plaid | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | Upstairs at the Gatehouse | June 2021
Forgetful Heart | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | Online | June 2021
Staircase | β˜…β˜…β˜… | Southwark Playhouse | June 2021
The Hooley | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | Chiswick House & Gardens | June 2021
Be More Chill | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | Shaftesbury Theatre | July 2021
Heathers | β˜…β˜…β˜… | Theatre Royal Haymarket | July 2021

 

Click here to see our most recent reviews

 

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Donmar Warehouse

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Donmar Warehouse

Reviewed – 23rd October 2019

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“cleverly creeps under our skin as a piece of theatre and leaves us with a lot to contemplate”

 

A woman breaks into her parents’ home to steal money for drugs; a prisoner sees every object as a possible way of killing herself; a sex worker waits in the cold for an extra ten pounds…

For forty years, Clean Break has been changing the future of women during and after their time in prison by both providing an outlet to challenge their misrepresentation in popular entertainment and as a formative process for learning, expression and evolution. Alice Birch’s commission to celebrate this gives carte blanche from a selection of 100 scenes – any number, any order – which address the manifold causes, processes and effects of being caught up in the criminal justice system. By the very nature of the crimes women commit, locking them away is less a safety measure for the rest of society than distancing them from their own threats with devastating repercussions for them, those they depend on and who depend on them. Director, Maria Aberg, has carefully chosen and arranged her selection to touch on lives blighted by a structure which does not confront these complex pastoral issues.

With a brilliant choice of cast, the scope for illustrating the breadth of age, race and class of these women works well visually as well as within the script. Rosie Elnile’s versatile set of raised, individual box rooms around a central space forms different levels of impact for the audience, from the feeling of observed, intimate conversations of abusive relationships and foster care to being drawn into the group spirit of prison life. Some scenes work better than others, however, which produces a somewhat uneven flow. After fragments of emotional experiences at home and in prison, of mothers, daughters, prisoners and staff, the action’s centrepiece (and scene number 100) is a dinner party of old friends. Here Birch brings together all the elements of the good-doing, professional society, patting each other on the back and having another glass of wine. The overlapping conversation between the guests is superb, hypocrisy slowly smouldering as their personalities unfold (the detective, the documentary maker, the therapist, the charity volunteers…) until the one outsider, played by Shona Babayemi, in a passionate outburst, can stand the insincerity no longer.

There are strong performances all round, though our natural expectations for an imposed narrative makes it difficult to completely engage with the characters. Thusitha Jayasundera shows us the painful impotence of a mother who is told her daughter has committed suicide in prison and we feel the confused heartbreak of Joanna Horton as the mother who sees no option for her children but to kill them. In a truly sobering moment, Lucy Edkins and Kate O’Flynn’s quietly powerful final scene as mother and daughter sums up the tragic personal loss of the ignored. Despite the dark and distressing subject, the writing, acting and direction balances sadness with humour. β€˜Blank’ cleverly creeps under our skin as a piece of theatre and leaves us with a lot to contemplate.

 

Reviewed by Joanna Hetherington

Photography by Helen Maybanks

 


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Donmar Warehouse until 30th November

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:
Appropriate | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | August 2019

 

Click here to see our most recent reviews