Tag Archives: Park Theatre

HOLY FOOL

★★★★

Park Theatre

HOLY FOOL

Park Theatre

★★★★

“strong character acting and wry, comic moments to leaven the harsh story”

The theme of this new play by writers Rosalind Adler and Lea Sellers, just opening at the Park Theatre, is how the artistic world (music in this case) acts and reacts under a despotic regime led by a tyrant who can topple individuals with a single word.

Holy Fool is set at the height of the Stalin era of Soviet history, when cultural policy in this period centred on the doctrine of Socialist Realism. This mandated that all art must be optimistic and uplifting, accessible to the masses, and ideologically correct – in other words serve the interests of the Party. There are parallels to be drawn with current world powers. It is these that the writers and director Kate Fahy are keen to draw out in choosing Dimitri Shostakovich as the subject for this portrait of an artist under pressure.

Dimitri Shostakovich (Mitya) produced an extraordinary range of music. In his time it garnered both extreme praise for his genius and great hostility for the modern discordant elements of his compositions. Living under constant threat of torture and death, he walked a tightrope between appeasement of the tyrant and resistance to the strangling cultural environment. His story is skilfully told in a chronological narrative, and at the back of a dark, era-defining set (William Fricker) that includes a grand piano, and microphones that drop from the ceiling, we are given key dates on a black screen, including that of Stalin’s death, to help us navigate major events.

Four fine actors play the central roles (as well as an assembly of other characters): Mitya (Benjamin O’Mahony), his wife Nina (Jenna Augen), friend Izaak (Fergus O’Donnell) and a young woman who falls under Mitya’s spell, Katya (Phoebe Pryce). O’Mahony is, in turn, brilliant as the composer, then febrile, anxious and angry as the man. Augen as his soul mate and equal, maintains a solid but also light presence, wryly comic at turns, frustrated and tolerant. When she disappears from the narrative, after her death, we miss her almost as much as her husband does. As Mitya ages, Fahy makes the very sensible decision to let his gait and body movement tell of his deterioration without the need for superfluous make-up.

Shostakovich’s fourth symphony is the device which connects the narrative – composed between 1935 and 1936, then cancelled, achieving its premiere only in 1961. This is used cleverly (along with other compositions) by the writers and the creative team as a vibrant part of the drama. Finally, as the action moves toward Mitya’s last years, the back projection magically resolves into a vision of a freedom and safety that lights up the dramatic space – a middle class street of an American suburb in a time of hope: the sixties and seventies.

Overall, the threat of the Socialist Realism era is rather underplayed. However, this is not the first time, and it won’t be the last, that despots have tried to use force to silence artists. Underground resistance and the human spirit is the story told here in an extremely well created and performed piece of work, with strong character acting and wry, comic moments to leaven the harsh story.



HOLY FOOL

Park Theatre

Reviewed on 3rd September 2026

by Louise Sibley

Photography by Mark Douet


 

 

 

 

HOLY FOOL

HOLY FOOL

HOLY FOOL

TWO HALVES OF GUINNESS

★★★★

Park Theatre

TWO HALVES OF GUINNESS

Park Theatre

★★★★

“a fascinating memoir”

The late Sir Alec Guinness once said of himself that “essentially, I’m a small-part actor who’s been lucky enough to play leading roles for most of my life”. This modest observation is typical of his unostentatious approach to his career and to his personality. In Mark Burgess’ one-man show, “Two Halves of Guinness”, Zeb Soanes impeccably reflects the essence of Alec Guinness in a role that sees him as the lead man, while undertaking a huge variety of small roles (over thirty, in fact) in the space of two hours.

Soanes doesn’t attempt any physical resemblance, but he manages to cut through the surface while capturing the tone and quality of the voice. Little else is needed. A few simple props maybe, such as when a tan leather brogue becomes a telephone handset, and a fair bit of inventive mime; and a battered travelling trunk. By curtain call, that trunk has been well used, having accompanied Soanes on the cradle to grave story – a journey that highlights not just the landmarks of a career with subtle self-deprecating humour, but pivotal personal moments that poignantly attempt to show what forces shaped his life. On the note of ‘forces’ – Soanes delivers a wonderful scenario in which Guinness corrects a ‘Star Wars’ fan (Obi-Wan Kenobi never said, ‘may the force be with you’ but ‘the force will be with you, always’. Apparently.)

It is a common side effect of the profession – that of being remembered chiefly for one particular iconic role that eclipses a varied career that precedes it. It was a chip on Guiness’ shoulder that he carried light-heartedly, but at one point Soanes asks the audience if they can mention other roles that he could be remembered for. There are no shortage of answers from the floor – an episode that highlights, perhaps, that the play isn’t revealing anything particularly new. But although we are whisked through the headlines, we are slowed down when the writing starts delving between the lines. We all know about the Ealing Comedies, ‘Great Expectations’, ‘The Ladykillers’, ‘Doctor Zhivago’, ‘Star Wars’… but did we know that Guiness based his unsteady walk in ‘The Bridge on the River Kwai’ on his eleven-year-old son who was suffering from polio at the time? Or how David lean, sometimes cruelly, brought out the best performances from his cast? We also catch behind the scenes moments that tease out hidden sides to other major players in Guinness’ life, such as John Gielgud, Laurence Olivier, Omar Sharif, Peter O’Toole (Soanes is also a great mimic).

Guinness was always seeking his own voice. Whether it was a direct consequence, Burgess makes much of the fact that Guinness never discovered the identity of his father, constantly seeking approval from a man he never knew. It is an engaging leitmotif throughout the show, but more resonant are the quiet moments when he recollects the time that his alcoholic mother abandoned him while going off on her many drinking sprees. Guinness was a complex and private soul, and together Burgess and Soanes bring out this side to his character with respect, pathos and, when needed, a little laughter. Director Selina Cadell casts a gentle hand over the narrative allowing the words to do the story telling. Burgess has clearly done his research, although those of us less familiar with Guinness’ life and works will reap more reward from the play – Burgess digs deep but doesn’t discover anything particularly new to the aficionados.

“Two Halves of Guinness” is a fascinating memoir, revealing layers of doubt beneath the assured persona. There is no doubting, however, Soanes’ assured and richly voiced portrayal of the double-Oscar-winning star of over seventy films. After a distinguished career as one of Britain’s greatest actors, Guinness feared that he would only be remembered as a Jedi knight. This play will go a long way to redressing the balance. You could argue that it doesn’t need to, but it is a truly entertaining way of finding out.



TWO HALVES OF GUINNESS

Park Theatre

Reviewed on 22nd April 2026

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Danny Kaan


 

 

 

 

TWO HALVES OF GUINNESS

TWO HALVES OF GUINNESS

TWO HALVES OF GUINNESS