Tag Archives: Reviews

Nick Payne in The Art of Dying

“The Art of Dying” by Nick Payne

at the Royal Court Theatre Upstairs

A better name for Nick Payne’s new solo show might be The Art of Lying. Throughout the monologue, the three stories Payne tells consider the various ways we lie to one another as life comes to an end. It’s a short, simple piece, and though it doesn’t contain the complexity of some of his earlier work, Payne delivers three affecting and heartfelt stories about the fraught relationship between death and truth.

Sat on a yellow plastic chair in front of a makeshift skyline of blue-lit medicine bottles, Payne begins the piece with the story of Maggie Noonan from Milton Keynes, who contracts a degenerative disease which forces her to split up with her partner and move into a home. Continue reading


“Beyond Caring” by Alexander Zeldin

at the Yard Theatre, Friday 4th July 2014

According to statistics, around 1.5 million people are employed by companies which offer them so-called “zero-hour contracts”, thus meaning a good proportion of our workforce is tied to a job which may not offer them any money one week and force them to work unfair hours the next. In Beyond Caring, Alexander Zeldin and his cast consider the alienating and demoralising effects such work can have on individuals, whilst simultaneously offering glittering shards of humanity which splinter up through the decay.

Grace, Susan and Becky have all been forced, for one reason or another, to spend a gruelling fourteen nights working in four-hour shifts cleaning a factory. Continue reading


“The Kindness of Strangers”

at Southwark Playhouse, Friday 4th July 2013

Under the current administration, little chunks of the NHS that Nye Bevin and Clement Atlee’s post-war Labour government created in 1948 are destroyed on a daily basis. Little chunks of the institution that has served us for sixty years (and only sixty years – it’s easy to forget it’s still a relatively young service) are being chewed up and spat out into private hands in such a way that much of the time it goes unnoticed. You only have to look at the papers to see that the NHS is demonised and degraded, with focus on the millions spent on cosmetic surgery rather than the billions spent on saving lives. In The Kindness of Strangers, Curious Directive have created a piece of theatre for five spectators which demonstrates an inherent tenderness in all of us, and how that impulse is a cornerstone of that beautiful thing, the National Health Service.

After being ushered into a somewhat old-looking ambulance and given headphones round the back of Southwark Playhouse, our vehicle begins reversing with its doors open, so that the landscape in front of us becomes the background. Continue reading

Billie Piper in Great Britain by Richard Bean

“Great Britain” by Richard Bean

at the Lyttelton Theatre, Monday 30th June 2014

*Originally written for Exeunt*

The announcement of the opening of Richard Bean’s Great Britain was as sudden as it was, we have been told, due to legal issues, but you can’t help feeling it was also a bit of a publicity coup for the National. The unveiling of a play about the hacking scandal and our national press mere days after the conclusion to the trial which delivered verdicts on those involved would, you’d assume, make such a play supremely current. Weirdly, however, Bean’s new tabloid farce is topical without being contemporary, and though it’s full of brilliant gags it never quite hits you in the gut.

The whole plot broadly tells a fictionalised version of the phone hacking scandal. Paige Britain (Billie Piper) is a news editor at the Free Press, which is run by a foul-mouthed editor (Robert Glenister) and owned by an idiotic Irish tycoon (Dermot Crowley). It’s a sleazy red-top which believes it works in the public interest, and soon gets into bed with both the police (literally, in the case of the Assistant Commissioner, played by Oliver Chris) and the politicians (again literally, with Rupert Vansittart’s Jonathan Whey). Before long, and supposedly unbeknownst to Rebekah Brooks lookalike Virginia White (Jo Dochery), the hacking starts prying into the family of missing twins and is used as leverage for multi-million pound deals and major circulation increases.

Dramatically, it’s pretty old news; Bean follows the contours of the entire scandal pretty faithfully, and even when he shifts a plot-point you can see it coming from a long way off. You find yourself spending a lot of time mischievously aligning characters to their real-life counterparts, but though the intention is not necessarily to create drama, the whole thing pales in comparison to the actual events that occurred.

Nicholas Hytner’s production tries hard to move things along swiftly, with a smart sliding walls design by Tim Hatley allowing for slick scene changes and a plethora of pre-recording video clips. Like the world it depicts, it is shallow and surface, surviving on the headline pun and the story above everything else. Even the cast frequently come across as tabloid caricatures rather than fully-fledged human beings, with Glenister savouring every insult he churns out and Piper taking the lead with a villainous relish.

Great Britain is often monstrously funny, and Bean manages to make us laugh throughout the entire three-hour running time, with gags coming out at a machine-gun pace. The news team, for example, pass the time naming their “Cunt of the Month”, and Glenister’s editor is full of gems: “Find a boffin who can prove that eating Brussels sprouts gives you AIDS”. The clown of the proceedings is Aaron Neil’s Met Commissioner, who frequently stands at a podium looking dazed and confused and comes a cropper at the hands of YouTube mash-ups. There are also plenty of (sometimes inconsistent) sight gags too, projected onto the glass screens, but they sometimes come across as satire-by-numbers rather than jokes with genuine insight.

And here is why, given all this, Great Britain never quite elicits the visceral response you may expect; it feels altogether too safe, and not nearly as angry as it could be. Though it presents an uncompromising view of our corrupt establishment (“20 people talk to 20 people talk to 20 people”), with hardly one redeemable feature among the lot of them, there’s never a moment that feels dangerous, even when half of this country’s elite has piled in for press night. A play like Great Britain has the power to recreate the same electric frisson which King Charles III found earlier this year, but its fairly conventional (and already known) narrative struggles to open up avenues of alternative.

It shows a world we already knows exists (even at this heightened level), and seems to endorse rather than subvert some of its characters and attitudes. Bean attempts to turn the whole thing on its head by implicating us with Paige Britain’s direct address (“Democracy? Give me a break”), but it often feels like a middle-class liberal-minded audience are let off the hook for not reading tabloids, with those who buy the papers silently burdened with much of the blame. This is a play which has the chance to make the whole audience feel part of the problem, but instead it often panders to our prejudice and never demonstrates much we don’t already know: that power in our country rests with the few, and many of our national structures encourage rather than deter corruption and cynicism. Hold the front page.


“Adler & Gibb” by Tim Crouch

at the Royal Court Theatre, Thursday 26th June 2014


I love how proud Tim Crouch is of John Peter’s assessment of An Oak Tree in 2007: “Some people will do anything to avoid writing a real play, possibly because they’re not sure they can.” You can find the quote in many places, not least on twitter where Crouch frequently cites it in discussion of his work. Similar things, we know, were said of Waiting for Godot and Blasted, so Crouch is in good company. What’s interesting about Adler & Gibb, however, is that it’s arguably the playwright’s most play-like play yet, and that’s not something felt only as a result of its context on the Royal Court main stage. Though formally and intellectually challenging, this is a play which has recognisable characters, a ‘proper’ set and – most strikingly of all – genuine emotional journeys. Its not that these things are absent from Crouch’s earlier work, of course, merely that here they are more visibly on the surface. Continue reading


“Catch-22″ by Joseph Heller

at Richmond Theatre, Tuesday 24th June 2014

*Originally written for Exeunt*

The last lines of Joseph Heller’s 1961 novel Catch-22 form one of those famous closing passages: “Yossarian jumped.  Nately’s whore was hiding just outside the door.  The knife came down, missing him by inches and he took off.” It’s a beautifully ambiguous ending, with the phrase “took off” having a whole plethora of different meanings, and contains within it all the contradictions of the novel itself.

In this stage version of the novel, however – which Heller adapted himself – some of that ambiguity and contradiction of this classic World War II story is unfortunately lost in its transition to a different medium. Continue reading