Tag Archives: Tom Turner

THE MARILYN CONSPIRACY

★★★★

Park Theatre

THE MARILYN CONSPIRACY at Park Theatre

★★★★

“Genevieve Gaunt captures the mannerisms and the breathy vocals without resorting to cliché”

Vicki McKellar and Guy Masterson’s “The Marilyn Conspiracy” is an intricately structured new drama, that undulates chronologically. Like a pendulum, swinging between the ‘before’ and ‘after’; in the centre of which lies the tragic and untimely death of Marilyn Monroe. The play hangs above the events like the sword of Damocles, waiting to fall and slice through the rumours, the scandal and conspiracy theories to get to the truth. Although when it does drop, the penetration is only skin deep. The writing and the performances are incisive, but the writers prefer to leave the outer layers unscathed. We are never entirely sure whether to trust their version of events or to draw our own conclusions.

Sixty years on from her death, the jury is still out. Officially ruled as probable suicide, no evidence of foul play was found. Despite the coroner’s findings, several conspiracy theories have been proposed. The case was reviewed in 1982 but the original findings were upheld. Masterson, who also directs, lays on the evidence of foul play thick and fast, presenting us with a very filmic piece of theatre that grips throughout – enhanced by Jack Arnold’s moody and atmospheric compositions. Film Noir meets Columbo, with touches of Raymond Chandler and Agatha Christie. ‘Who Killed Monroe’ could be a suitable subtitle as motive and opportunity are relayed around the room like a tense game of ‘pass the parcel’. Threats said in the heat of the moment are later forensically picked apart and used as, not just evidence, but proof. As details leak, suspicions grow, and fingers point. Lies are uncovered, but then covered up before you can say ‘Happy Birthday’ to a president.

Monroe is such an icon that has unfortunately become a caricature in the public’s memory. However, Genevieve Gaunt captures the mannerisms and the breathy vocals without resorting to cliché. We get a real feel of her playfulness as well as her histrionics and instability. To a lesser extent we glimpse the savvy side of Monroe’s character, the emphasis being on the trivial gossip. Which is a delight. Giggling and spicy conversations with her close friend Pat Newcomb (Susie Amy – in wonderful form as loyal defender, supporter and confidant) provide comic relief from the dark revelations revealed posthumously.

McKellar has clearly done her research. The source material is wide, yet she focuses on quite a narrow part of the picture, leading Robert and John Kennedy centre stage without actually bringing either of them onto the stage. Instead, we have their sister Patricia and her husband Peter Lawford as a kind of good-cop-bad-cop duo. Declan Bennett’s Peter is the closest we have to the villain of the piece: his brothers’ lackey sent to staunch a leak that could topple the administration. Having failed, more drastic measures are needed – and therein lies the crux of the narrative. The stakes are high, and the skilled performances raise them higher still as the cast navigate the sharp and penetrating narrative structure. A special mention must be made of last-minute replacement, Natasha Colenso, as Patricia Kennedy-Lawford. A pre-show announcement explained that she would be on the book, but you had to look very hard indeed to notice.

Everybody thinks they know everything about Marilyn Monroe, and consequently has their own theory about her demise. This show sheds little light on the heroine herself, but it does authentically portray the dubious afterglow of her departure. Very much character lead, it is above all a beguiling study in political coercion and one’s willingness to bow down to it. Sally Mortemore’s nuanced depiction of Monroe’s housemaid, Eunice Murray, is a prime and realistically disturbing example of this dichotomy.

We may not be presented with undisputed fact, but we feel that we are dangerously close to it. McKellar takes us behind closed doors and shows us the intricate mechanisms of the quintessential ’cover up’. When the pieces come together, whether true or not, what we have is ‘history’. It’s a daunting concept. “The Marilyn Conspiracy” perhaps treats this concept with a bit too much bias and preconception. But the mix of polemic and entertainment value is perfectly balanced. A thrilling piece of theatre.

 


THE MARILYN CONSPIRACY at Park Theatre

Reviewed on 24th June 2024

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by NUX Photography

 

 

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

IVO GRAHAM: CAROUSEL | ★★★★ | June 2024
A SINGLE MAN | ★★★★ | May 2024
SUN BEAR | ★★★ | April 2024
HIDE AND SEEK | ★★★★ | March 2024
COWBOYS AND LESBIANS | ★★★★ | February 2024
HIR | ★★★★ | February 2024
LEAVES OF GLASS | ★★★★ | January 2024
KIM’S CONVENIENCE | ★★★★ | January 2024
21 ROUND FOR CHRISTMAS | ★★★★ | December 2023
THE TIME MACHINE – A COMEDY | ★★★★ | December 2023
IKARIA | ★★★★ | November 2023
PASSING | ★★★½ | November 2023

THE MARILYN CONSPIRACY

THE MARILYN CONSPIRACY

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Cuckoo cast

Cuckoo

★★½

Royal Court

CUCKOO at the Royal Court

★★½

Cuckoo cast

“Despite strong visuals, the dark comedy doesn’t say anything ground-breaking or particularly witty and the script”

 

Cuckoo, the latest play from Michael Wynne and directed by Vicky Featherstone, has an interesting concept. We are introduced to three-generations of a family living in Birkenhead as they sit around the dinner table, engrossed in their phones, eating a fish and chip tea. Doreen (Sue Jenkins), the sweet and unwittingly funny grandmother, waits on her two grown-up daughters – Carmel (Michelle Butterly) and Sarah (Jodie McNee) – and Carmel’s near-silent daughter Megyn (Emma Harrison, making her debut). Megyn, after another argument with her irascible mother, storms upstairs, locks herself in her grandmother’s bedroom and thenceforth will only communicate via text.

Why? The reason is never fully obvious, and the plot is, unfortunately, rather aimless. As the story unfolds, we do, however, learn more about the family’s history and possible theories as to what may have driven Megyn to such a drastic action, as well as exploring the sometimes-dangerous escapism that our phones can offer us.

Jenkins and McNee are the standouts here and their characters have the most interesting personal arcs. Doreen has used her phone to better her life – meeting a kind man who empowers her to speak her mind unlike her controlling husband of 45 years; whilst Sarah – the first to request that phones are put away at the table – is ultimately plagued waiting for a certain notification to come through.

Unfortunately, the relationship between Carmel and her daughter is not wholly believable. This is no fault of the actors who do a fair job of working the stilted dialogue but rather the effect of Megyn’s isolation for so much of the play. There is no opportunity to see a growth in their dynamic as Megyn simply isn’t present and when she is, she is mute or looking around wildly.

Despite the all-female cast, men loom in their lives. Sarah talks passionately about her father whilst – by contrast – Carmel complains about her lousy ex-husband. There is a suggestion that a man has hurt Megyn hence her retreat from public life, but this is never fully explored. Many big topics are mentioned in passing such as abuse and environmentalism, but no one issue is settled on long enough to be justly handled.

Phones feature heavily throughout the play. The characters hold them firmly in their hands even in the tensest of confrontations. As Sarah reveals her darkest moments to her niece, she cannot help but clutch her phone and check it hurriedly when it buzzes. Reality vs fantasy is a strong theme too – the family gather around a phone to watch a video of a recent terror attack and complain when the content isn’t graphic enough whilst Megyn posts lies online about the loving relationship she has with her mother to her thousands of followers.

This theme is hammered home by Sarah’s rather on the nose comment that perhaps Megyn locking herself away is a perfectly reasonable reaction to everything that’s ‘going on’ in the world.

The realistic set (Peter McKintosh) is a marvel. A beautifully constructed living room (complete with conservatory) and kitchen unit. The bottom floor is circled by a shallow pool of water into which rain cascades early in the first half. A hallway leads from the kitchen to the left-hand-side of the stage where a staircase leads its ascenders off stage. The audience is left to wonder what tragic sight is behind the locked doors of Megyn’s sanctuary until the very final scene. The lighting (Jai Morjaria) is good and well reflects the time or weather outside the home or the mood within its walls.

Nick Powell’s discordant sounds and folk versions of The Cuckoo create a great sense of overwhelm and anxiety that reflects that caused by the constant stream of information available on our portable devices. Different sounds are utilised to represent various apps pinging off such as a ka-ching when Doreen sells an item online, a quirk that is given sizeable meaning later on.

Alas, Cuckoo has not lived up to its promise. Despite strong visuals, the dark comedy doesn’t say anything ground-breaking or particularly witty and the script leaves much to be desired.

 

 

Reviewed on 12th July 2023

by Flora Doble

Photography by Manuel Harlan

 

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

 

Black Superhero | ★★★★ | March 2023
For Black Boys … | ★★★★★ | April 2022

 

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