Tag Archives: Peter Mumford

Rock ‘n’ Roll

★★★★

Hampstead Theatre

ROCK ‘N’ ROLL at Hampstead Theatre

★★★★

“the dialogue is whip smart – intelligently written and delivered in a natural manner that draws plenty of unexpected laughs”

Hampstead Theatre’s ambitious revival of Tom Stoppard’s Rock ’n’ Roll follows the intersecting lives of Jan and Max, a Czech PhD student at Cambridge and his Marxist professor. Starting in 1968 with the Prague Spring and closing just after the Velvet Revolution of 1989, it covers vast ground, temporally and thematically, but primarily examines the socio-political challenges of Czechoslovakia as a satellite state of the Soviet Union through Jan and Max’s diverging perspectives. It’s pretty cerebral, not least because the academic discussions on Marxism are often only given respite by academic discussions on Sappho, but there is balance to be had with emotive love stories interwoven throughout.

There’s a lot to unpack, whether Czech independence is familiar to you or not. The script is densely filled with characters, storylines and dialogue covered at such a cantering pace it can be difficult to keep up. Jumps forward in time require heavy exposition to make sense of when and where we are. But the dialogue is whip smart – intelligently written and delivered in a natural manner that draws plenty of unexpected laughs.

Stoppard describes this play as a love story primarily between Jan and Rock and Roll music. Jacob Fortune-Lloyd as Jan is sweetly enamoured by the Velvet Underground and Nico, Pink Floyd, and the Rolling Stones – taking just a suitcase of records with him back from Cambridge to Prague in ‘68. Director Nina Raine brings this to life in the staging, blasting the familiar tunes as the scenes change and using Brenock O’Connor as an ethereal Syd Barrett to hop across the stage like the spirit of rock and roll.

“a timely revival from one of British theatre’s greatest playwrights”

It’s Jan’s singular fixation with Czech rockers Plastic People of the Universe that drive him from youthful idealism towards dissidence for the ruling regime. Almost every scene at times is peppered with ‘plastic people’. His eventual criticism of the communist regime puts him at odds with the fearsome Max. Nathaniel Parker’s Max feels intensely unlikable – an old man stuck in his ways, unbudgeable in his convictions. Czech independence from soviet influence feels viscerally modern at the current moment with Ukraine at war for the right to self determination. Max’s dogmatic insistence in the preeminence of communism has added resonance now.

These intellectual battles are expertly balanced against emotional ones. Nancy Carroll as Eleanor, gives an indelibly powerful performance as Max’s equally accomplished wife whose specialism in sapphic poetry is at odds with the rationalism of her partner. When she talks of Sappho writing of an un-mechanical man you can’t help but think she is imagining the very opposite of her husband. It’s clever therefore that in Act II Carroll plays Esme, Eleanor and Max’s daughter, who harbours a lifelong attraction to the more emotional Jan.

Set in traverse, it is never noticeable that the cast are playing to the audience on both sides. The large stage is fulsomely decked out by Anna Reid as the grand interior of a Cambridge college suitable for a professor of rank just as well as a poky Prague flat.

Rock ’n’ Roll is a timely revival from one of British theatre’s greatest playwrights. Whether you’re a Syd Barrett super fan or Marxist intellectual there will be plenty to mull over long after the final tableau.

 

ROCK ‘N’ ROLL at Hampstead Theatre

Reviewed on 12th December 2023

by Amber Woodward

Photography by Manuel Harlan


 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

Anthropology | ★★★★ | September 2023
Stumped | ★★★★ | June 2023
Linck & Mülhahn | ★★★★ | February 2023
The Art of Illusion | ★★★★★ | January 2023
Sons of the Prophet | ★★★★ | December 2022
Blackout Songs | ★★★★ | November 2022
Mary | ★★★★ | October 2022
The Fellowship | ★★★ | June 2022

Rock ‘n’ Roll

Rock ‘n’ Roll

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Far Away

★★½

 Donmar Warehouse

Far Away

Far Away

 Donmar Warehouse

Reviewed – 14th February 2020

★★½

 

“hits its most climactic point with a whole third of the script still to go”

 

If you ever did an A-Level in Drama in sixth form or college, chances are you already know Caryl Churchill’s work quite well, and had probably exhaustively analysed every detail of her scripts through waffling and meandering essays. For those for whom Far Away was one of those plays (like myself), actually seeing it performed in the Donmar Warehouse’s new production directed by Lyndsey Turner will no doubt be an exhilarating experience, although the extent to which it stands up to those reams of analysis, especially in our current socio-political climate, is arguable.

Far Away happens in three distinct sections. The first sees a young Joan (Sophie Ally and Abbiegail Mills) disturbing her aunt Harper (Jessica Hynes) late at night, unable to sleep after having seen something shocking and violent outside. The scene carries tension masterfully as Harper tries to weave a false narrative that explains away what Joan saw, only for Joan to drop a series of atom bomb revelations about what she experienced. The second section builds on the deceit of the first by portraying Joan now as a young adult (Aisling Loftus), starting a new job designing hats for a forthcoming parade alongside seasoned hat-maker Todd (Simon Manyonda). Todd slowly starts to disrupt the worldview that Harper’s lies had entrenched in Joan, as the true nature of the hat parade is unveiled in the most breathtaking moment of whole play. Which, if you’re keeping count, is an issue because Far Away hits its most climactic point with a whole third of the script still to go.

The final section jumps forward in time once more, while also jumping stylistically from straightforward realism to nigh-on absurdism, as the characters explain how enemies in the all-out war that’s erupted have weaponised the likes of mosquitoes and light, but that Latvian dentists can be trusted. Perhaps it’s an exploration of mankind’s tendency towards destruction and violence and how it will eventually embroil everything with it. Perhaps it’s a comment on paranoia and conspiracy theorists. Or perhaps it means nothing at all. It feels so much like stepping into a completely different play rather than a continuation of the one that’s just preceded it that it practically renders the previous two sections irrelevant. The complete abandonment of the momentum that had been built prior also grinds the final scene down to what is essentially a ten page exposition dump – the characters are indiscernible, the inter-relationships are meaningless, and the dialogue is filled with sluggish lists.

Every aspect of Far Away which had previously been stellar falls to the wayside at this point – Lizzie Clachan’s striking and ominous design that reveals more of its world as the script does finds itself with nothing to do; likewise with Peter Mumford’s foreboding lighting. Where Hynes and Manyonda at first carried driving undertones of dark, shady deeds being done just out of sight juxtaposing with Loftus’ innocence, the play’s conclusion leaves them directionless as Turner can’t successfully find the connective sinew between the final scene and the first two. The result is a deeply anticlimactic play, that offers as much dystopian insight as the likes of The Hunger Games – that’s not a knock against The Hunger Games, but without its thrills and action, Far Away delivers pretty much the same experience as just turning on the news.

 

Reviewed by Ethan Doyle

Photography by Johan Persson

 


Far Away

 Donmar Warehouse until 28th March

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:
Appropriate | ★★★★ | August 2019
[Blank] | ★★★★ | October 2019
Teenage Dick | ★★★★ | December 2019

 

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