“A clever, amusing libretto and interactive staging engage the audience from the start”
It is an interesting idea to transport 1830s bohemian Paris to present day life-on-the-breadline in Dalston. Adam Spreadbury-Maher and Becca Marriott’s updated take on Puccini’s classic opera, which has transferred from the King’s Head Theatre, shows the timelessness of love and emotions against a background of poverty and desperation.
A tale of the joys and sorrows of dependent relationships, it also maintains the artist’s fight for creative recognition. It cuts away the chorus, the orchestra and the traditional grandeur of an opera house, leaving only the four main characters and two musicians from the original opera in the small space of Trafalgar Studio 2. A clever, amusing libretto and interactive staging engage the audience from the start. However, while the close proximity to the singers is an intense experience, the opera’s rapid changes of moods and emotions – drama, wit, happiness, tragedy – can be oddly melodramatic. As a contemporary touch, replacing tuberculosis with drug addiction is very effective.
All four talented singers hold the stage with confidence. Thomas Isherwood as Mark has a powerful yet polished sonority as he sings of his despair for the love of the fickle Musetta. She is played by a strikingly seductive Honey Rouhani who sings with appropriate gusto (beware, front row, if you are not partial to audience participation). Becca Marriott gives a strong interpretation of Mimi, though the vitality of her voice is perhaps better suited to the fragility of her character in the second half, and she occasionally overpowers Roger Paterson (Ralph) in the duets. Vocally not as operatic but beautifully natural, he has less resonance in the upper register which, arguably, suits the intimacy of the studio. Panaretos Kyriatzidis (Musical Director) is an excellent substitute for a large-scale orchestra but William Rudge on cello, as the only other instrumentalist, lacks focus to his sound, and passion in dramatic moments, allowing the musical tension to disappear.
The simplicity of the set design (Becky-Dee Trevenen) and dimly glowing lighting (Nic Farman) portray the familiarity of the setting yet create a scene reminiscent of larger productions. Adam Spreadbury-Maher’s direction skilfully incorporates the audience into the action by making use of the whole studio, though in intense passages of quartet singing the positions of the singers can distort the harmonic balance.
La Boheme is the type of innovative production the Trafalgar Studios promotes. It is an absorbing performance that captures the essence of the grand opera style in its own miniature genre.
“Marber’s dialogue fizzes and dances with sharp exchanges and some hilarious moments”
I wouldn’t normally be keen to see a play about football, it’s not something I’m interested in. But this isn’t really a play about football. It’s about the tensions between community and business, between cooperation and self-interest. It’s about secrets and plots, honesty and lies. And it is very good indeed.
The set (Patrick Connellan) is the locker room of a non-league football club. The kit man and general behind the scenes helper Yates, played by John Bowler, is ironing football shirts. He has been involved in the club for years and values the volunteers and supporters. He has the Red Lion club mascot tattooed over his heart. Bowler is full of a tired passion and full of sadness for his lost past, when he was a star player at the club. He is involved in a power struggle with Stephen Tompkinson’s Kidd, the ambitious and driven manager of the club. Kidd sees the club as a business, one he can use to his advantage. He is not averse to bending the rules to line his own pockets. Yates and Kidd want different things from and for the new young player, Dean Bone’s vulnerable, determined Jordan. The three men are all damaged, all seeking better lives, all needing money.
Tomkinson is superb as Kidd. He is devastatingly funny, volcanically furious, and yet manages to show the vulnerability and anxiety that underlie his behaviour. We may despise his actions but we feel some sympathy for his human failings. John Bowler’s Yates is almost poetic in his despair and love for the club. He wants to become a mentor and support for Jordan, perhaps remembering his own glory days by nurturing the talent of the raw young man. Jordan’s self-containment and adherence to his Christian beliefs are tested and found wanting, Dean Bone finding the perfect balance of hope and uncertainty within the character of a young man scarred by violence.
This play, ably directed by Max Roberts, also reflects our changing society; the loss of the old type of football club with it’s community base and involvement, to the demands of profit and business are a metaphor for larger societal changes. Marber’s dialogue fizzes and dances with sharp exchanges and some hilarious moments, yet leaves us with a quiet sense of loss and endings. Red Lion is well worth watching and leaves the audience with food for thought.
