Tag Archives: Sam Mendes

The Motive and the Cue

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NoΓ«l Coward Theatre

THE MOTIVE AND THE CUE at the NoΓ«l Coward Theatre

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“a stylish and stylised homage not just to a moment in time, but to theatre itself”

When Richard Burton and Peter O’Toole were filming the feature film β€˜Becket’ in 1964, the two actors came to an agreement as a kind of joke. After the shoot was wrapped, they would each go on to play β€˜Hamlet’ on the stage, either in London or New York. The London production would be directed by Laurence Olivier and the Broadway show by John Gielgud. To decide which, they tossed a coin. O’Toole won the toss and chose London and Olivier, leaving Burton to persuade Gielgud to fulfil his side of the wager. The production was a financial hit, achieving the longest running production of the play in Broadway history.

During rehearsals, the actor Richard L. Sterne decided to furtively record the conversations and the clashes as Burton (the modernist striving to be the classicist) squared up to Gielgud (the classicist striving to be the modernist). More than half a century later, the recordings of that ground-breaking moment in theatrical history were taken by Jack Thorne and moulded into an equally ground-breaking play; β€œThe Motive and the Cue”. It is a stylish and stylised homage not just to a moment in time, but to theatre itself.

As the drama unfolds over a day-by-day account of the rehearsals, each scene is captioned with a surtitle lifted from Shakespeare’s text, some bearing a tenuous relevance to the action. The dynamic between Burton and Gielgud is established early on, simmering with electricity until later the sparks truly fly. In the middle ground is Elizabeth Taylor who foreshadows the confrontations, but also covertly and intricately smooths the way. Tuppence Middleton, as Taylor, wonderfully plays the outsider looking in, despite her own star status already. Johnny Flynn is the antagonist as a fiery yet vulnerable Burton. Often whisky-fuelled, he is forever on the verge of a fight, but in the verbal battles his mantle is torn to reveal hints of the fatherless boy seeking direction. Flynn harnesses the restless energy, while brilliantly capturing the rich tones of speech that still echo the valleys of South Wales.

“the overall feel is of a heartfelt tribute to a golden age of British Theatre”

It is Mark Gatiss, however, to whom the show truly belongs. We frequently catch ourselves believing the knight himself is up on the stage. Gatiss personifies Gielgud with a mix of intelligence, charm, pathos and acidity, coating his outstanding performance with mannerisms as detailed as they are emotionally revealing. Moments outside of the rehearsal room reveal the layers of self-doubt that plague these great players. One can assume that the original tape recordings were confined to the rehearsal room, so it is Thorne’s writing that powers these external, highly charged scenes. The power is beautiful and invariably moving, and Gatiss’ hold on the material is a master class in acting. Gielgud was in a fragile place at the time, aware that his position in the profession was precarious with a new kind of modern theatre creeping into the West End. He took the Broadway job because he wasn’t getting other offers.

There is much humour too in the piece, much of it aimed at theatre lovers (dare I use the term β€˜luvvies’?). The ensemble cast supports the dominant trio tremendously. We often forget that these are actors in a play, playing actors playing roles in a play. Sarah Woodward as Eileen Herlie as Gertrude is particularly watchable, as is Luke Norris (playing William Redfield playing Guildenstern). Sam Mendes’ sophisticated production runs at close to three hours but not one moment is wasted, nor is our attention allowed to slip for one second. Excerpts from Shakespeare’s texts link the scenes on Es Devlin’s set that, with Jon Clark’s evocative lighting, switches from the harsh white light of the rehearsal room to the blood red hues of the Burton-Taylor lounge, to the cold blues of Gielgud’s hotel room.

The rehearsals are over, and the play reaches its conclusion as Burton prepares for opening night. The writers and performers alike are careful to avoid sentimentality. The result is an exceptionally moving finale. There is satire on the way, and some affectionate mocking of the key players, but the overall feel is of a heartfelt tribute to a golden age of British Theatre.

β€˜The Play is the Thing’. β€œThe Motive and the Cue” is the thing: the play to see at the moment. Thoroughly modern. Instantly classic. No clash there at all.


THE MOTIVE AND THE CUE at the NoΓ«l Coward Theatre

Reviewed on 18th December 2023

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Mark Douet

 

 

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

The Ocean At The End Of The Lane | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | October 2023
The Great British Bake Off Musical | β˜…β˜…β˜… | March 2023

The Motive and the Cue

The Motive and the Cue

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The Lehman Trilogy

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Gillian Lynne Theatre

THE LEHMAN TRILOGY at the Gillian Lynne Theatre

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The Lehman Trilogy

“Relevant, gripping, foreboding and ultimately touching.”

 

β€œThe Lehman Trilogy”, spanning over 150 years, is ostensibly an epic drama; an intricate portrayal of a dynasty following fortune and misfortune. Yet it is so much more. The sum of its parts adds up to one of the most extraordinary theatrical experiences. On paper, it is hard to see why. It is nearly three and a half hours long and it charts, in considerable detail, the rocky road of global capitalism, focusing of course on the Lehman brothers. Much of the narrative is unseen, exposed only through the spoken word. But a lecture it most certainly isn’t. A lesson, yes! Stefano Massini’s three act play (adapted by Ben Power) is a fable, parable, an allegory. It is poetry. A magical music box of stagecraft, where style and emotion meet in perfect harmony. A strikingly evocative human tale. And above all, a masterclass in acting.

It all begins on September 11th, 1844. Henry Lehman (Nigel Lindsay), the son of a Jewish merchant, emigrates to America from Bavaria, settling in Alabama; followed by his two brothers – Emanuel (Michael Balogun) and Mayer (Hadley Fraser) – a few years later. We warm to them immediately as they triumph over adversity. We are lulled into the humanity and gentleness with which they fairly rapidly achieve wealth, forgetting momentarily that what follows is a harsh cross-examination of the American Dream. Initially relying on slavery, the Lehmans soon learn to reap profit from disaster (other peoples’). The portents are planted. Yet the family firm survives for a century and a half, weathering the crash of 1929, but finally being swept under by the financial crisis of 2008.

In three acts, Sam Mendes’ production does not flag for one second. And even in its most blatant moments of exposition we are still gripped. Highly stylised, the narrative comes full circle, framed within Es Devlin’s rotating glass and metal set – softened by the symbolism of towering and cascading cardboard boxes. Luke Halls’ mostly monochrome video projections provide a shifting, panoramic backdrop – at key moments bursting into flames of colour and breath-taking movement. Nick Powell’s music underscores throughout, played live by pianist Yshani Perinpanayagam. A cycle of musical phrases and variations, sublime and subliminal, responding to every moment like a lover’s breath. At times restless, playful; sometimes achingly abandoned. All bookended with the evocative Jewish lullaby, β€˜Rozhinkes Mit Mandlen’.

But the essence of the piece shines through the finesse and virtuosity of the trio of actors. Lindsay opens as the pioneering spirit Henry, followed by Balogun’s Emanuel and Fraser’s Mayer. Each of them singularly extraordinary and collectively unforgettable. As the timeline stretches, they switch genders to portray multiple characters, while seamlessly shifting down through the generations, morphing into the brothers’ descendants with astonishing versatility. In true tragedian style, the ending is inevitable and as it approaches the pace becomes more frantic – folding in on itself, racing against itself and racing ahead of itself. The events depicted are complex and ethically dubious. β€œI didn’t try to win… I decided to win”. A mantra that epitomises the Lehman’s strategies that left nothing to chance. The real winner, however, in this saga is the audience.

β€œThe Lehman Trilogy” is a multi-layered extravaganza. Relevant, gripping, foreboding and ultimately touching. Never has capitalism been dressed up in such an alluring metaphor. We are almost seduced. But we are definitely seduced by the quality of the performances. An unmissable triumph that reminds us of theatre’s raison d’Γͺtre.

 

 

Reviewed on 8th February 2023

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Mark Douet

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

 

Cinderella | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | August 2021

 

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