Tag Archives: Phillip Money

THE HOMECOMING

The Homecoming

★★★★★

Cambridge Arts Theatre

THE HOMECOMING

The Homecoming

Cambridge Arts Theatre

Reviewed – 11th April 2022

★★★★★

 

“this work remains a classic of the twentieth century and this superb revival is much welcomed”

 

Many people claim this to be Pinter’s finest play and this excellent production, superbly directed by Jamie Glover, certainly provides evidence for that argument. The strong ensemble doesn’t put a foot or sideways glance wrong, each character drawing our attention in turn.

An astonishing set (Liz Ashcroft) of huge height provides a surreal touch to the proceedings, comprising an impressive backdrop of dark green flocked wallpaper and the most unlikely of tallest staircases that makes each entrance and exit take an age. We wait in anticipation as Max, painfully, stick in hand, clambers down each step. Ruth, however, milks every moment of her regal descent towards the downstairs room of eager men.
Subdued lighting (Joanna Town) from a high ceiling lamp and corner standard lamps creates a brooding atmosphere: light falling onto the wallpaper from the offstage landing windows and from the opening front door, and alarming shadows created through the side window. Dramatic silhouetted freeze-frames between scenes enhance the sinister nature of the goings-on and heighten the tension.

Max (Keith Allen), permanently wearing a flat cap, is the cantankerous and misogynistic head of the household played with a touch of Alf Garnett but with the humour far darker than in any sitcom. He is vulnerable too as the weakness of his impending old age begins to be exploited by the middle son Lenny (Matthew Horne). With brilliantined hair and dapper blue suit, Lenny casually boasts of his needless violence. Joey (Geoffrey Lumb) is the youngest son, a wannabe boxer with little hope of success. The homecoming of the title is that of eldest son Teddy (Sam Alexander), a well-spoken university teacher who has been away for six years and arrives home unannounced with his wife Ruth (Shanaya Rafaat). Max’s brother Sam (Ian Bartholomew) makes up the household, an unassuming chauffeur bullied by his brother, weak and possibly impotent, but who knows the hidden stories of the family.

The central chair is the position of power. Mostly occupied by Max – even Teddy knows that it is his father’s favourite seat – both Lenny and Ruth get their turns to sit in it. The production’s tour image puts Ruth in this armchair held up by four men – she is literally put on a pedestal – and this implied, but uncertain, outcome to the story is one of the enigmas of the play.

All six members of the cast are outstanding, and it is the combined strength of the ensemble – an angry stare, a disapproving pout, a suggestive smirk across the stage – that marks this production as exceptional. But first among equals is the alluring performance by Shanaya Rafaat. No wonder Max cannot take his eyes off her as she draws the men closer with a gentle movement of a leg, her passive demeanour and softly spoken syllables contrasting with the brutality and estuary vowels of the household.

Whether any contemporary playwright would countenance using such casual misogynistic attitudes as a source of humour in a new play must be doubtful, this work remains a classic of the twentieth century and this superb revival is much welcomed.

 

Reviewed by Phillip Money

Photography by Manuel Harlan

 


The Homecoming

Cambridge Arts Theatre until 16th April then UK tour continues

 

Recently reviewed at this venue:
Dial M For Murder | ★★★ | October 2021
Tell me on a Sunday | ★★★ | September 2021
The Good Life | ★★ | November 2021
Animal Farm | ★★★★ | February 2022

 

Click here to see our most recent reviews

 

I Know I Know I Know

I Know I Know I Know

★★★★

Southwark Playhouse

I Know I Know I Know

I Know I Know I Know

Southwark Playhouse

Reviewed – 9th April 2022

★★★★

 

“thoughtful and powerful”

 

The young company DONOTALIGHT brings to the stage a compelling play by Flora Wilson Brown that speaks for the new generation.

A minimal set (Victoria Maytom) comprises some rubber plants positioned on random flight cases. A central shoddy brown sofa, set obliquely, doubles as the front seats of a car.

Alice (Hannah Khalique-Brown) enters the darkened space (Lighting Designer Ryan Day), her face illuminated by the screen of a mobile phone into which she is about to tell her story; the only way she can come to terms with putting her years of trauma into words.

Max (Ethan Moorhouse) and Hannah (Martha Watson Allpress) meet as old university mates, lift-sharing as they drive to Bristol for a mutual friend’s wedding. The bride is Hannah’s former flame, it transpires. Enlightened direction (Harry Tennison) has the couple move freely about the space, engaging in rough and tumble, falling into slow motion scenes, all the while the car journey continues.

These two scenarios occur together in the same space and yet lie a distance apart. Sometimes the conversations coincide and the same words are spoken. At other times there appears a parallel mood between them. At first the technique seems clumsy and I fear that I cannot follow the two stories simultaneously; I worry I am missing something crucial. But the initial clash is intended and it sorts itself out as things progress.

Martha Watson Allpress and Ethan Moorhouse both excel in the relaxed friendship between Hannah and Max. Their smiles, laughter, and repartee are natural and free flowing. If Max is just a bit too much boy-next-door to be a convincing world-leading rock musician, maybe even megastars have a day off from their on-stage personas. Hannah Khalique-Brown is outstanding as the exposed and vulnerable Alice in what is essentially an extended monologue. Her initial quirky mannerisms underlining Alice’s inherent nervousness develop into something else as she finds the courage to speak out, not just for herself but for others too. Some curious staging of a final scene as Alice talks of the future for the only time in the play is marred by her passive positioning, speaking upstage.

Flora Wilson Brown’s thoughtful and powerful script raises so many questions concerning behavioural responsibility and culpability, coercion, and self-doubt. If anyone should consider that the abuses brought to light through the #MeToo movement are only historical then Flora Wilson Brown’s direct and dynamic writing should redress those thoughts. It is only up to us to listen.

 

Reviewed by Phillip Money

Photography by Ellie Kurttz

 


I Know I Know I Know

Southwark Playhouse until 16th April

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:
The Woods | ★★★ | March 2022
Anyone Can Whistle | ★★★★ | April 2022

 

Click here to see our most recent reviews