Tag Archives: Simon Annand

1984

β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜…

UK Tour

1984 at Cambridge Arts Theatre

β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜…

“As he twitches and screams, the audience responds with a petrified silence at the horror. It is a deserving accolade for Quartley’s stunning performance”

Marking seventy-five years since the first publication of George Orwell’s sensational dystopian novel, Ryan Craig newly adapts the work for the stage in this production directed by Lindsay Posner.

On entering the theatre, a huge screen at the rear of the stage is projecting images of members of the audience as they take their seats. Initially I am unsure whether the coverage is live or recorded until I am picked out on screen scribbling down these very notes. This is not a playful kiss-cam but something much more sinister: Big Brother is watching you. And if we are in any doubt of this at all the telescreen is in the shape of a giant eye (Justin Nardella designer).

Winston Smith (Mark Quartley) works in the Ministry of Truth where he abets the totalitarian state’s control of the past by rewriting historical records and airbrushing former heroes into insignificance. Dressed in the official uniform of blue overalls and black boots, he already looks worn-out. And he has a secret… despite living under the constant scrutiny of telescreens, spies and informers, he has purchased a vintage journal in which he is writing down seditious thoughts. This is brilliantly portrayed in retrospect, behind gauze at the rear of the stage, almost as a dream sequence.

Winston catches the eye of co-worker Julia (Eleanor Wyld) who proudly wears the red sash, somewhat ironically we will discover, of a member of the anti-sex league (and, therefore, almost certainly not to be trusted, says Parsons). They begin an affair in which their illicit trysts are rare moments of colour in a production in which all else is in different shades of grey. A beautiful projected backdrop of the sun’s rays peeping through into green woodland has an unreal quality about it which emphasises the fantastical nature of their impossible relationship. Julia’s naivete is summed up with her line, β€œThey can’t stop me loving you”, because, of course, they can.

It’s a shock to come back after the interval for Act II. The backdrop is now a huge steel wall, the face of Big Brother faintly etched upon it. Parsons (David Birrell) is lying on the floor of his prison cell, his clothes soiled, his body disabled, his mind broken. It’s a fine performance from Birrell and a brilliant transformation; Parsons’ earlier joy and ebullience replaced with fear and desperation.

Winston’s interrogation is one of the most gruesome scenes I have ever seen on stage. O’Brien (Keith Allen) interrogates with a driving patience, so confident that he will win however long it takes and his suppressed brutality is chilling. Live aerial shots of Winston’s torture are projected onto the back screen as his body is electrocuted again and again. As he twitches and screams, the audience responds with a petrified silence at the horror. It is a deserving accolade for Quartley’s stunning performance.

But there is a limit to how much we can bear and Winston facing up to his ultimate fear in Room 101 is performed in a total blackout. O’Brien’s audio description of the terrors within is almost drowned out by the sounds of Winston’s screams and, despite the blackout, the scene is close to unbearable.

As well as the actors on stage, there are recorded elements from other named characters shown only on screen and the technical aspects of this production are of high importance. With so much going on, both on stage and on the telescreen and with recorded files as well as live camera action, it is sometimes hard to see where to focus the attention.

The necessary abridgment of the text means the love affair between Julia and Winston doesn’t entirely convince, nor the ease with which they commit to betraying themselves to O’Brien. But the production as a whole and Mark Quartley’s performance especially will live long in the memory. As the state continually rewrites the dictionary, removing all unnecessary words from usage, I am only left to say that this production is double-plus-good.


1984 at Cambridge Arts Theatre then UK Tour continues

Reviewed on 22nd October 2024

by Phillip Money

Photography by Simon Annand

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

THE HISTORY BOYS | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | October 2024
REBUS: A GAME CALLED MALICE | β˜…β˜…β˜… | September 2024
CLUEDO 2: THE NEXT CHAPTER | β˜…β˜… | March 2024
MOTHER GOOSE | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | December 2023
FAITH HEALER | β˜…β˜…β˜… | October 2023
A VOYAGE AROUND MY FATHER | β˜…β˜…β˜… | October 2023
FRANKENSTEIN | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | October 2023
THE SHAWSHANK REDEMPTION | β˜…β˜…β˜… | March 2023
THE HOMECOMING | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | April 2022
ANIMAL FARM | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | February 2022

1984

1984

Click here to see our Recommended Shows page

 

Toast
β˜…β˜…β˜…

The Other Palace

Toast

Toast

The Other Palace

Reviewed – 9th April 2019

β˜…β˜…β˜…

 

“Mrs Potter’s lemon meringue garnered a round of applause all of its own. As Bake Off’s success testifies, the Brits do love a cake.”

 

Nigel Slater’s autobiography was published to critical acclaim in 2003, and quickly went on to become a best-seller, further cementing Slater’s place in the nation’s heart. It was adapted into a film, shown on the BBC in 2010 before its cinema release a year later, and The Lowry last year commissioned this stage adaptation, which has landed at The Other Palace after a successful Edinburgh run at the 2018 festival. For those not already familiar with the events of Slater’s childhood – for it is this that Toast takes as its subject – he grew up in 60s suburban England, with a loving mother and a distant father. His mother died of asthma when he was still at school; his father remarried, to a woman who he didn’t like, and died a few years later, finally freeing him up to move to London and pursue the love of food and cooking that had always been with him, from his very earliest years.

The first thing to say about Toast is that it looks gorgeous. Scrumptious even. Good enough to eat. Libby Watson’s production design hits the perfect nostalgic notes, and Zoe Spurr’s ever-excellent lighting design is a superb demonstration of what lighting can do to lift and enhance the action on stage, and act as a subtle emotional guide for the audience. It was also a nice touch to enter with the smell of burnt toast in the air. And it felt right to see the young Nigel finally do some proper cooking at the end, wielding his knife like a pro, as the gorgeous smell of garlic in olive oil wafted out into the audience. The moments in which trays of sweet treats were handed out to the audience were less successful however, and an example of a device which might well have worked in a festival atmosphere but seemed forced and stilted in a London theatre. The cakes on stage were a different story though. Mrs Potter’s lemon meringue garnered a round of applause all of its own. As Bake Off’s success testifies, the Brits do love a cake.

We also love a bit of nostalgia. And this show unashamedly taps into that desire. There are some slickly choreographed movement sequences to enjoy, as you would expect given director Jonnie Riordan’s Frantic Assembly background, but they are essentially fillers, padding out a very straightforward A-Z linear structure, which is almost wholly driven by the young Nigel’s narration. Giles Cooper was clearly suffering from Press Night nerves last night, and will almost certainly warm into his performance as the run continues, but he has a hard task nonetheless, as he is basically the neutral narrative anchor around which the theatrical action pivots. Lizzie Muncey (Mum), Stephen Ventura (Dad), Marie Lawrence (Joan) and Jake Ferretti (Josh) all give polished, professional performances, but the show as a whole fails to get beneath the skin. There are laughs aplenty, particularly for those audience members of a certain age, for whom Nigel’s memories particularly resonate, but the more soulful moments are lost in the saccharine confection of the whole. There is an awful lot of sugar in this show; if you don’t have a sweet tooth, it’s probably not for you.

 

Reviewed by Rebecca Crankshaw

Photography by Simon Annand

 


Toast

The Other Palace until 3rd August

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:
Eugenius! | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | February 2018
Suicide | β˜…β˜…β˜…Β½ | May 2018
Bromance: The Dudesical | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | October 2018
Murder for Two | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | December 2018
The Messiah | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | December 2018

 

Click here to see more of our latest reviews on thespyinthestalls.com