STEREOPHONIC

Duke of York’s Theatre

★★★

“when it does come together, the result is musical magic”

Michael Lindsay-Hogg’s 1970 documentary film, ‘Let It Be’, used two film cameras that rolled from the moment the first Beatle appeared each day and continued recording until the last one had left. It wasn’t the first film of its kind, and it certainly hasn’t been the last. But it was appraised for its fly-on-the-wall glimpses into the dynamics and tensions that would lead to the band’s break-up. But criticised, too, for its indulgence. Such exercises can indeed be dull and draggy and are often only rescued by the subjects’ celebrity and enjoyed by the fans. It is therefore quite a risk to construct a fictitious band, give it the same treatment, and then unleash it onto a theatre audience as a three hour play with music.

“Stereophonic” follows an unnamed British-American rock band on the cusp of superstardom as they struggle to record their new album. Set in the mid-seventies, it takes place solely within the confines of a recording studio in California. The time and place are both beautifully evoked by David Zinn’s nostalgically perfect set complete with its working reel-to-reel deck and analogue desk. Enver Chakartash’s choice of costume is equally in tune with the post-hippy, West-coast vibe. The band has a strong resemblance to Fleetwood Mac, not necessarily in appearance but in its line up and relationships within. A lawsuit filed by the author of the Fleetwood Mac memoir, which was settled out of court, didn’t dampen the play’s success on Broadway last year, breaking the record for the most Tony Award nominations.

There is no getting away from the uncanny comparisons to the real-life band. In writer David Adjmi’s thinly veiled counterpart we follow the shenanigans of married couple bassist Reg (Zachary Hart) and keyboardist/vocalist Holly (Nia Towle); longtime partners guitarist/vocalist Peter (Jack Riddiford) and singer Diana (Lucy Karczewski); and drummer Simon (Chris Stack). It is quite a long time before we get to sample some of the music they are making, composed by Will Butler – former member of the indie rock band Arcade Fire. It takes a long time for anything to happen. In fact, the play takes a long time. Period. Or rather, full stop – in honour of the three-to-two majority of British members in the band. The performances, however, do allow us to get to know the characters quite swiftly. Riddiford plays the control freak who surreptitiously adopts the role of producer and is abusive to his bandmates and his partner, Diana. Karczewski’s performance as Diana is the most gripping, as she pieces together her confidence despite Peter’s damaging swipes, eventually conquering all and outgrowing the collective success by securing a lucrative solo contract. Hart’s Reg epitomises the coke-addled bassist who is more interesting in his brief flashes of sobriety than his shouty, shallow jibes. Towle’s Holly is torn between rejecting and accepting her husband’s behaviour, finding solace in her music and her friendship with Diana. In the midst is Stacks as the drummer, Simon, not just the backbeat to the band but the backbone to the line-up. Peacemaker and therapist, but even so, not averse to occasionally throwing his own tantrums.

It is a world of booze, cocaine, coffee and cigarettes. Tempers fray frequently (too frequently), but everyone is exhausted by the recording sessions that constantly creep into the early hours. We occasionally feel the same. The stop-start frustrations in the sound booth often cut short the beautiful moments of the music. And inside jokes can outstay their welcome. How long does it really take to tune a snare drum? We are furiously willing the actors along in their attempts to settle artistic differences – but when it does come together, the result is musical magic. Butler’s compositions perfectly suit the setting and are beautifully performed by the cast. Both Karczewski and Towle have the voices that can easily give Stevie Nicks and Christine McVie a run for their money.

No recording studio can function without the engineers. Eli Gelb and Andrew R. Butler are Grover and Charlie, the ill-fated, tech-wizards at the console who are often the uncredited heroes of the day. In this respect, Gelb and Butler are the saviours of the show too. A breath of fresh air, they provide the comic relief that is much needed, and also the most memorable and believable characters. Hilariously absurd but in tune with the precariousness of their position. Dismissive of the egos they are working with but knowing how to pitch their servility just right to keep their jobs. Until they’ve had enough, that is.

There is no denying that this is a microscopic and detailed look at the blood, sweat and tears of genius. Art isn’t easy. It takes time. “Stereophonic” certainly latches onto that requirement. A literal translation of the drawn-out process of making an album. There are moments of pure genius in this play, but they are buried under the weight of self-indulgence and multiple takes.

STEREOPHONIC

Duke of York’s Theatre

Reviewed on 14th June 2025

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Marc Brenner

Stereophonic

THE CRUCIBLE at the Gielgud Theatre

★★★★

“A parable that certainly stands the test of time, its shadows crossing the centuries and still looming large today”

If you (falsely) confess to the charges levelled at you – your life is spared. If you (truthfully) deny them, even though the evidence is based on little more than mass hysteria, you will be hanged. A warped message, but one that resonates today, albeit in an exaggerated way. Arthur Miller’s “The Crucible” is based on the Salem witch trials of the 1690s but he openly presented it as an allegory for McCarthyism, when the US government persecuted people accused of being communists. Lyndsey Turner’s atmospheric revival stays faithful to Miller’s seventy-year-old classic, while allowing the audience to draw their own parallels with our contemporary world of cancel culture, social media groupthink and perceptions of reality. It sounds heady stuff, but the beauty of Turner’s interpretation is that these worries are triggered by straightforward, authentic and, at times, chilling drama.

There is no safety curtain in this production. Instead, a wall of rain pre-sets the action that unfolds on Es Devlin’s simple and sepulchral set. Tim Lutkin’s lighting casts whispers of horror while Tingying Dong’s soundscape illuminates the menace with the aural equivalent of dying candles. The young girls, innocent in appearance, writhe in unison, led by ringleader Abigail (a compelling Milly Alcock). It matters not whether their possession by the devil is real or not. The fatal effects on their elders – the supposedly authoritative members of society – are what propels the narrative. The outcome is guided by superstitions, and by unenlightened minds that eschew truth and reason in favour of their self-interested goals. The familiarity is sometimes uncomfortable as the focus regularly shifts from the accused to the accusers. The term ‘witch-hunt’ has become such a cliché, but Turner’s rich interpretation refreshes it without uprooting it from its origins.

The heart of the story, and it’s strongest moments of pathos, stem from joint protagonists John Proctor and his wife, Elizabeth. Despite John’s dubious backstory and the marital discord, it is the redemptive qualities of their relationship that restores our faith and offers a fragile hope. Brian Gleeson has the charisma to marry Proctor’s rebellious defiance with a gentle dignity, ultimately admitting guilt to protect his wife and children. Caitlin Fitzgerald’s Elizabeth has a matching dignity, made stronger by the knocks it needs to withstand. Their scene together towards the climax of the show is a quiet moment of heartbreak that stands out above the wolflike baying.

Milly Alcock’s manipulative Abigail swings from endearing to malicious in a captivating performance, matched by Nia Towle’s Mary Warren, a fellow accuser who, too late, shows flashes of conscience. The voices of reason are mercifully heard above the clamour. Such as Tilly Tremayne’s Rebecca Nurse and Karl Johnson’s tragicomic portrayal of Giles Corey who exposes alternative motives for the trials. Accusations fly as irrationality poses as righteousness. Fisayo Akinade’s Reverend John Hale both embodies and exposes this in a remarkable performance that pins down disillusionment in the face of corruption and abuse.

At just under three hours the pace never seems slow. Miller’s language – its rhythms and patterns – can take the credit, but it has to share it with a tremendous company that honours the writer’s intentions. A parable that certainly stands the test of time, its shadows crossing the centuries and still looming large today. This revival is as dark as those shadows but is a shining example of how theatre can light up our lives.

Tag Archives: Nia Towle

STEREOPHONIC

★★★

Duke of York’s Theatre

STEREOPHONIC

Duke of York’s Theatre

★★★

“when it does come together, the result is musical magic”