★★★★

“an enjoyable and important revival of a play that has become a modern classic”

Alan Bennett’s much-loved play celebrates the 20th anniversary of its National Theatre first performance with a new production and a national tour (Director Seán Linnen). The period is firmly established from the outset with walk-in music made up of 1980s bangers – Soft Cell, The Human League, Pet Shop Boys – and we hear more of this throughout the show (Sound Designer Russell Ditchfield).

The set (Grace Smart) is the outside of a grim grey building – Cutlers’ Grammar School for Boys, Sheffield – which when it revolves will let us into a classroom laid out with plain square tables and the ugliest red plastic, stackable chairs.

A line-up of eight boys enters performing rather nicely a close harmony, doo-wop number before breaking into their schoolboy characters. Music is an important part of this production (Musical Director Eamonn O’Dwyer), some of it embedded into the plot, at other times as entr’acte music during scene changes. The onus in the solo numbers falls on the vulnerable, questioning character of Posner (Lewis Cornay). Cornay’s made in heaven harmonies soar above the ensemble and his solo performance of Rodgers & Hart’s ‘Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered’ is truly beautiful. Not forgetting Yazdan Qafouri as Scripps playing the piano quite brilliantly too.

The plot centres on the differing teaching methods of the nearing-retirement Hector (Simon Rouse) and the newbie Irwin (Bill Milner) as they coach the eight sixth formers towards their Oxbridge entrance exams. But the importance of the play and the main interest lies in the developments of each character. Being teenagers, conversation revolves much around sex and we hear a blow-by-blow account of Dakin’s (Archie Christoph-Allen) conquest of the school secretary. But there is also common knowledge of Hector’s fondness for fondling the private parts of his pupils whilst they ride pillion on his motorbike home from school. Despite this being a period piece, the casual acceptance by the boys that this is acceptable behaviour, makes me extremely uncomfortable. It takes the words of the only female teacher Mrs Lintott (Gillian Bevan) – “a grope is still a grope” – to voice out loud that what Hector is doing is wrong. Bevan’s no-nonsense approach to the role allows us to believe that she alone is the wise one amongst the school staff. The Headmaster best described by Mrs Lintott as “a twat” is played perfectly in this manner by Milo Twomey – approaching Basil Fawlty levels of hysteria when roused.

Two important intimate scenes: Posner looks for solace from Hector and Dakin’s attempt to mislead Irwin lack the necessary poignancy for full effect. It is the schoolboy ensemble that is most impressive – the natural chatter between classes and the laddish hijinks – and Timms (Teddy Hinde) stands out of the crowd with just the right amount of cheek and arrogance. A showstopper number of Stand and Deliver despite a lot of banging, stamping and chair-fighting lacks sufficient punch (Movement Director Chi-San Howard). Amplification of the singing might help.

The biggest laugh of the night comes from Rudge’s (Ned Costello) assertion that “History is just one fucking thing after another” claimed with a down to earthiness that, after nearly three hours on stage, this feels just about right.

This is an enjoyable and important revival of a play that has become a modern classic but at times, the highs don’t quite reach high enough and the emotional parts don’t quite reach deep enough.

LEAVES OF GLASS at the Park Theatre

★★★★

“Max Harrison’s staging is beautifully faithful and sympathetic to the writing.”

Memories contain errors. Memory is highly malleable; therefore, often unreliable. It can be altered by emotional state from the very second it becomes a memory. Or many years later. Yet most of us like to think our own recollections are infallible, even when we know we might be twisting it. That’s just survival, according to Philip Ridley who explores these themes in his 2007 play “Leaves of Glass”. The middle episode of his ‘Brothers Trilogy’, it was preceded by ‘Mercury Fur’ and followed by ‘Piranha Heights’.

“Leaves of Glass” centres around two brothers, Steven (Ned Costello) and Barry (Joseph Potter). Five years apart in age, but on the surface, they couldn’t be further apart from each other. Steven runs a successful graffiti removal business while Barry, despite being a bit of a dogsbody in the firm, is a struggling artist. Steven appears to have his head screwed on, whereas Barry’s is lost in drink and hallucinations. Their respective memories of their father, whom they lost at a young age, are on different tracks. Yet there are similarities that bond them. But like similar poles of a magnet, they repel each other. Their mother Liz (Kacey Ainsworth) tentatively holds them together, despite her affections wavering between the two as wildly as her own recollections. The only solid presence is Steven’s pregnant wife Debbie (Katie Eldred) who is aware of the fragility of the family, but her tolerance doesn’t stretch to assuring nothing gets broken.

The intensity of the play comes not just from the spoken word, but the silence that surrounds a traumatic incident from the brothers’ childhood that neither seems willing to talk about. When the silence snaps, the effect is shocking. The pieces come together but nothing fits, as the final battle of memories is like a duel to the death.

“Sam Glossop’s underscore splits the play’s segments like splinters of sound that throw us off balance”

The intensity of the play also undoubtedly comes from the performances. Costello and Potter both capture the inherent danger in Ridley’s script and in their characters. Costello in particular, like a brooding prisoner who never leaves the stage. Neither can escape their version of the truth – a truth that we can only keep guessing about. Eldred’s Debbie, the outsider, is more grounded but not quite strong enough to dodge the fallout from the brothers’ mind games. Ainsworth is a mix of concern and complicity as the mother who inflates her own ability to cope. ‘I’ve buried two parents and a husband’ she continually reminds us, ‘I think I’m capable of carrying some tea and biscuits’. The little hints of domesticity are a thin gauze over the deep cracks that run through this family.

Ridley’s signature is splashed all over the piece, although less shocking, and perhaps more thoughtful, than some of his other work. Max Harrison’s staging is beautifully faithful and sympathetic to the writing. Some scenes are short, like pieces of broken glass. Other scenes start when they are already up and running. They end unresolved. It is discomforting and reflects the unravelling of the minds of these four protagonists. The actors come into the scenes from different angles – as jagged as the eponymous leaves of glass. Alex Lewer’s lighting is just as evocative, swinging from harshness to near darkness like a horror film’s bare light bulb; while Sam Glossop’s underscore splits the play’s segments like splinters of sound that throw us off balance.

It is difficult to tell the difference between a lie and a truth misremembered. This family is built on both – a pretty unstable foundation to begin with. It is not always easy viewing to witness, but the craftmanship of the acting and the writing force us not to look away. Memory may be fragile, but “Leaves of Glass” will be difficult to forget.

THE HISTORY BOYS at the Cambridge Arts Theatre

★★★★

“an enjoyable and important revival of a play that has become a modern classic”

THE HISTORY BOYS at the Cambridge Arts Theatre then UK tour continues

Reviewed on 1st October 2024

by Phillip Money

Photography by Marc Brenner

Previously reviewed at this venue:

THE HISTORY BOYS

THE HISTORY BOYS

LEAVES OF GLASS at the Park Theatre

★★★★

“Max Harrison’s staging is beautifully faithful and sympathetic to the writing.”

“Sam Glossop’s underscore splits the play’s segments like splinters of sound that throw us off balance”

LEAVES OF GLASS at the Park Theatre

Reviewed on 25th January 2024

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Mark Senior

Previously reviewed at this venue:

LEAVES OF GLASS

LEAVES OF GLASS