Tag Archives: Manuel Harlan

ELEPHANT

★★★★

Menier Chocolate Factory

ELEPHANT

Menier Chocolate Factory

★★★★

“We are fascinated by what Lucas has to say, but it’s the music that truly speaks for itself”

As we sit round an upright piano, we are given an in-depth analysis of the aftereffects of striking a piano key. How the slim slab of ivory trips a lever which brings a soft felt-lined hammer onto a metal string, which, in turn, causes the air to vibrate eventually spreading across the room and filling each of us with the same vibration that we call music. We are inextricably linked and reeled in by the unifying hook that transfixes us. Anoushka Lucas is the one telling us all this, although she doesn’t need this allegory to catch, and to hold, our attention. She is a natural-born raconteur, with a charismatic flair to match.

“Elephant” is written, composed and performed by Lucas. We suspect that there are veiled, autobiographical elements hidden within her monologue, but she is telling us Lylah’s story who, at the age of seven, watched a group of workmen rip out the windows of her family’s council flat to lower a piano into their living room. From then on it dominated her small living space, her life and her love affair with music began. This love of music drives the narrative, but it is fuelled by various pivotal moments in Lylah’s life that shape her identity as a mixed-race, working-class girl who dares to be different. Who dares to cross the class divide. Who dares to defy the white, misogynistic expectations that music executives have for her career. Who dares to challenge the innate and unearned privilege of colonialist descendants.

Lylah is continually drawn back to the piano. Sitting centre stage, slowly revolving as Lucas plays and sings. Entirely acoustic and without the aid of technological trickery her singing is intimate, rich and mellow. The piano is an extension of Lylah but when a song ends, we are back in the narrative and the piano becomes the elephant in the room. Lylah’s piano has ivory keys, and she has a hard time reconciling the beauty of her instrument with the cruelty that went into its construction. The brutal tearing out of the tusks from the elephant’s face, the use of enslaved people to transport the tusk. Lucas is able to revisit this theme with ease without hammering the point. Jess Edwards’ supple direction is sensitive to the crescendos and diminuendos of Lylah’s story; each element played as part of a rhapsody. A sharp piano note heralds a twist in the tale while Laura Howards lighting shifts through shades to illuminate the various phases of her life. We learn a lot about Lylah’s childhood – Lucas is expert at seeing the world through a child’s eyes, and then retaining that unfiltered honesty, bringing it with her into adulthood. Love comes in the form of Leo, a session drummer, who invites her to his family cottage. The ’cottage’ is, in fact, a nine-bedroom country manor, furnished with the trappings of the Empire. Including a mahogany grand piano. Lylah cannot prevent herself addressing the ‘elephant in the room’ – literal and symbolic – and the anger that pours out is heartfelt and human without being sanctimonious or political.

We then return to the music. Then back to another episode of life. But always back to the music. Sometimes the musical interludes are brief, and the show could perhaps do with more performance and less talk. The show is bookended by the observation that the black and the white keys on a piano are disproportionately balanced. It is an interesting analogy at the beginning, but we don’t need it repeated. Lucas has shown us that music is blind to this distinction. We are fascinated by what Lucas has to say, but it’s the music that truly speaks for itself.



ELEPHANT

Menier Chocolate Factory

Reviewed on 30th May 2025

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Manuel Harlan

 

 


 

 

 

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

DRACULA, A COMEDY OF TERRORS | ★★★★ | March 2025
THE PRODUCERS | ★★★★★ | December 2024
THE CABINET MINISTER | ★★★★ | September 2024
CLOSE UP – THE TWIGGY MUSICAL | ★★★ | September 2023
THE THIRD MAN | ★★★ | June 2023
THE SEX PARTY | ★★★★ | November 2022
LEGACY | ★★★★★ | March 2022
HABEAS CORPUS | ★★★ | December 2021
BRIAN AND ROGER | ★★★★★ | November 2021

 

 

ELEPHANT

ELEPHANT

ELEPHANT

HOUSE OF GAMES

★★★

Hampstead Theatre

HOUSE OF GAMES

Hampstead Theatre

★★★

“diverting, packed with plot, character and incident”

Writer Richard Bean’s stage version of House of Games, directed by Jonathan Kent, is a theatrical sleight-of-hand that both honours and undercuts its source. Adapted from David Mamet’s 1987 film and story, the play tries to pull off a double con: replicating the clipped tension of Mamet’s neo-noir while layering in jokes, cartoonish supporting characters, and a dash of caper comedy.

The result, though often entertaining, is tonally confused – a production unsure whether it wants to unsettle or amuse.

The story follows Margaret (Lisa Dillon), a buttoned-up Harvard clinical psychoanalyst and successful writer. Bored with her uptown life, she becomes embroiled in the seductive world of low-rent grifters after she tries to rescue a client Billy Hahn (Oscar Lloyd) from a gambling debt.

She enters the titular House of Games – a down-at-heel Chicago bar – and meets smooth Mike, (Richard Harrington) a charming hustler whose world of deceit both appals and excites her. Margaret is inspired to research another book which provides her with an excuse to hang around and (improbably) play bit parts in Mike’s cons, a transgression fuelled by a growing passion for her bad boy lover.

As the scams multiply, so do the psychological twists, leading to a final turn that should, in theory, leave the audience reeling.

But where Mamet’s film presented its narrative with razor-edged minimalism – quick cuts, shadows, tight silences – the stage version feels the need to say everything out loud, slowly and with a chirpy smile.

The introduction of a broad comic sidekicks and the abundance of wisecracks contribute to an atmosphere closer to a sub-Ocean’s 11 pastiche than a psychological thriller. The quipping gang have plenty of character to play with – Robin Soans’ veteran Joey particularly fun – but the gags come at the expense of any menace and tension.

Bean’s script confines all the action to just two locations and designer Ashley Martin-Davis pursues the trend for double-decker stages, the clinical therapist’s office above, the sleazy, dimly lit bar below.

While the con-games themselves are nicely choreographed, they are also well telegraphed. And, by now, Bean’s boosterish urges have erased all thoughts of Mamet’s moral bleakness.

For all its inconsistencies, the production is diverting, packed with plot, character and incident.

The audience, like Margaret, is willingly drawn into the performance’s web of duplicity. There’s a sly thematic resonance here: theatre itself is a con, asking viewers to believe in fictions. This adaptation leans into that idea, sometimes too heavily, but never without flair.

The tricks may be familiar, but the ride is fun.



HOUSE OF GAMES

Hampstead Theatre

Reviewed on 12th May 2025

by Giles Broadbent

Photography by Manuel Harlan

 

 

 

 

 

Last ten shows reviewed at this venue:

PERSONAL VALUES | ★★★ | April 2025
APEX PREDATOR | ★★ | March 2025
THE HABITS | ★★★★★ | March 2025
EAST IS SOUTH | ★★★ | February 2025
AN INTERROGATION | ★★★★ | January 2025
KING JAMES | ★★★★ | November 2024
VISIT FROM AN UNKNOWN WOMAN | ★★ | July 2024
THE DIVINE MRS S | ★★★★ | March 2024
DOUBLE FEATURE | ★★★★ | February 2024
ROCK ‘N’ ROLL | ★★★★ | December 2023

 

 

HOUSE OF GAMES

HOUSE OF GAMES

HOUSE OF GAMES