Tag Archives: Simon Kenny

The Lord of the Rings

★★★★★

Watermill Theatre

THE LORD OF THE RINGS at the Watermill Theatre

★★★★★

Lord of the Rings

“The nuances of the characters are beautifully executed, particularly up close on the small stage.”

 

‘When Mr Bilbo Baggins announced that he would shortly be celebrating his eleventy-first birthday with a party of special magnificence, there was much talk and excitement’. And so opens J. R. R. Tolkien’s monumental “The Lord of the Rings”; one of the best-selling books ever written. Since my early teens, I’m not sure I have met anybody who hasn’t read it. The Sunday Times once stated that “the English-speaking world is divided into those who have read ‘Lord of the Rings’ and those who are going to read it”. Peter Jackson’s trilogy of films echoes the epic scale of fantasy and adventure. How, then, can the story translate to a two-hundred-seater theatre in the Berkshire countryside? A good question, and one that becomes swiftly answered as we wander through the Shire, under an open sky, into Bilbo’s much anticipated birthday party. Woodsmoke drifts from the gardens of the old mill down to the stream, with the scent of Hog roast floating among the jugglers and minstrels, while Hobbits mingle with ‘the Big Folk’. As the party reaches its end, we are ushered inside where the adventure begins. A very big adventure in a pretty small space, but The Watermill Theatre have concocted a production in which each element of the stagecraft would put the most hallowed wizard to shame.

It is telling that this adaptation by Shaun McKenna and Matthew Warchus (with music by A. R. Rahman, Värttinä and Christopher Nightingale) is referred to as a ‘musical tale’ rather than a musical. Shunning convention it avoids formulaic showtunes. Instead, the soundtrack follows the pulse of the emotions rather than the narrative; the underscoring seamlessly merging into song. Impressively performed by the actor-musician cast and ensemble, Mark Aspinall’s orchestrations ranges from folk to bar-room jigs, through to bombastic percussion-driven anthems, back again to the mysticism of the Celtic harp, whistles, fiddles and gorgeous voices.

 

“Each member of the cast deserves mention, and each could threaten to steal the show”

 

Frodo, who has inherited the One Ring from his cousin at the birthday party has to undertake the quest to destroy the ring in the fires of Mount Doom. Louis Maskell carries the role with an instinctive ease that belies the demands of the emotional journey required. Nuwan Hugh Perera, as his companion Sam, is an unexpected voice of reason, merging light relief with solid support for his fellow hobbits. Across the board, the portrayal of the characters is natural, and paradoxically believable in all their other-worldly implausibility. Peter Marinker’s Gandalf has the wizened wisdom that keeps his power in check. Both Georgia Louise, as the Royal Elf Galadriel, and Aoife O’Dea as Arwen, enchant us with their performances and musicality. Each member of the cast deserves mention, and each could threaten to steal the show. The largest threat being Matthew Bugg’s Gollum, who weaves his way into the second act: feral, feline and fluid. Bugg moves as though underwater, defying gravity as easily as abusing the hobbits’ trust.

The nuances of the characters are beautifully executed, particularly up close on the small stage. But remarkably, when required, the epic proportions magically come into full force. Paul Hart’s staging is phenomenal. Simon Kenny’s ingenious design utilises every nook and cranny of the playing space. With the stunning combination of Adam Fisher’s sound, Rory Beaton’s lighting, George Reeve’s projections, Charlie Tymms’ puppetry and Anjali Mehra’s choreography (to name a few of the key creatives), the effect is that of a sweeping panorama. Only later, in retrospect, does one wonder how it is achieved.

“The Lord of the Rings: A Musical Tale” is little short of a miracle. As we are led back outside, back to the Shire, darkness has fallen. We bid farewell to Frodo. Emotions are running high. Our senses have been caught in the storm of a spectacle, but we have still heard the intimate sounds of extraordinary theatre making. Most people who have read Tolkien’s high-fantasy novel would agree that they could read it again. Everyone, I’d like to think, who sees this adaptation at The Watermill will agree that they could see it again. And again.


THE LORD OF THE RINGS at the Watermill Theatre

Reviewed on 1st August 2023

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Pamela Raith

 


 

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

Mansfield Park | ★★★★ | June 2023
Rapunzel | ★★★★ | November 2022
Whistle Down The Wind | ★★★★ | July 2022
Spike | ★★★★ | January 2022
Brief Encounter | ★★★ | October 2021

The Lord of the Rings

The Lord of the Rings

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Duet for one

Duet For One

★★★★

Orange Tree Theatre

DUET FOR ONE at the Orange Tree Theatre

★★★★

Duet for one

“Gabriella Opacka-Boccadoro gives a virtuosic performance on violin, beautifully emoting Oliver Vibrans’ score”

 

The title implies that the focus of “Duet for One” will be on the one protagonist: the once famous violinist, slowly crippled by multiple sclerosis who self-destructively drifts into bitter isolation. In reality, though, both characters are the lead in Tom Kempinski’s affecting two-hander. And it is very much a duel, rather than a duet. A dramatized battle between the psychiatrist and the patient. A clash between the healer and the incurable.

Famous for the film starring Julie Andrews and, more pertinently, for the acclaimed stage play with Juliet Stevenson and Henry Goodman which transferred to the West End from the Almeida Theatre in 2009, Richard Beecham’s revival at the Orange Tree Theatre has made some brave character choices. Traditionally a male role, switching the gender of the therapist to female has subtly altered the dynamics without compromising any of the tension. There is also the introduction of a third character, hitherto merely talked about to excess. The music. The inclusion of a live violinist provides some achingly beautiful moments that help connect the audience to the shadows that plague the mind of musician Stephanie Abrahams (Tara Fitzgerald).

Encouraged by her unseen composer husband, Stephanie has embarked on a course of treatment with Dr. Feldmann (Maureen Beattie). One doesn’t need to have been in therapy to be able to recognise the initial reticence and scepticism. Fitzgerald’s tight-rhythmed delivery of the time-honoured jibes are cloaked in light humour but dark denial. In her position we are intentionally forced to wonder why she keeps returning for another session, but we gradually feel her deep need as the tables turn.

The play is a harsh exploration of purpose, identity and suicidal despair which has the potential to be distressing but which, in Fitzgerald’s and Beattie’s hands is given a very human and relatable touch as we are led through the five stages of grief; although we never quite reach the final acceptance. Throughout the duet (or rather duel) Fitzgerald blocks the passage while Beattie’s final words teasingly suggests that there might be a way through.

Simon Kenny’s slowly revolving set lets us view the narrative from each perspective, sometimes shielding the facial expressions to allow the sharpness of Kempinski’s words reach us unencumbered. A thinly disguised study of cellist Jacqueline du Pre, the play avoids sentimentality by stripping the characters of sympathy – simultaneously pushing us away but drawing us in. At times it seems that each character is too intent on gaining the upper hand. It is only in the second act that we begin to get a sense of the emotion – the deep chasm of loss that Stephanie feels. Although Fitzgerald’s violent outbursts are not always believable, we do still want to breach the veneer of unhappiness as she reveals the crux of the matter: that without her purpose – her music – life is meaningless. Morality also rears its head as Beattie triumphs with a show stealing tirade against Stephanie’s suicidal thoughts.

Gabriella Opacka-Boccadoro gives a virtuosic performance on violin, beautifully emoting Oliver Vibrans’ score. Intended to reflect Stephanie’s states of mind it serves more to guide us from one scene to the next. Perhaps too consistently beautiful for the narrative, it yearns with longing while avoiding the hopelessness and despair. Tender is the music, but hard is the heart. There is no real resolution, or promise of a happy ending, in “Duet for One”. There is no need. The realism, both in the script and in the performances, leaves the choices to us.

 

 

Reviewed on 16th February 2023

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Helen Murray

 

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

 

Rice | ★★★★ | October 2021
While the Sun Shines | ★★★★ | November 2021
Two Billion Beats | ★★★½ | February 2022
The Solid Life Of Sugar Water | ★★★★★ | October 2022

 

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