The Beast's Pen

In the last of the Donmar’s season showcasing the work of new directors, Simon Evans directs this 1941 French play by Vercors (in a version by Anthony Weigh). In a remote part of the French coast, a German officer  (Leo Bill) is billeted on the home of an uncle and niece (Finbar Lynch and Simona Bitmate), presenting thinly veiled parallels with the German occupation of France. Whilst the woman is, for the most part, silent, the two men talk to each other and about each other but never engage in conversation. In effect, they are delivering alternating monologues which provide an eloquent commentary on the experience of occupation but deliver no dramatic tension and no human interest. Vercors was a prominent figure in the Intellectual Resistance movement in France during World War II and, revived now, this is still of historical significance. However, it is in essence a collection of well-written and well-spoken thoughts that could be gripping if performed as a radio play, but, judged as a drama for live theatre, it never really works.

Set in 1948 and, when first performed almost 30 years later, Peter Nichols’ loosely-structured comedy (with songs by Denis King) was far enough removed from the events it depicted to satirise them, but close enough to resonate with audiences. Revived now under Michael Grandage’s direction, the contemporary relevance of the piece looks questionable, yet in another 30 years and relocated to Afghanistan, it’s observations about how Britain perceives its place in the World could still be just as cutting. The play draws from the writer’s own experiences in post-War Malaysia and centres on a group (SADUSEA – Song and Dance Unit South East Asia) putting on shows to entertain troops. At the forefront of the group is a flamboyant drag queen, played with great relish by Simon Russell Beale who extracts every possible laugh from the camp humour. As always with this actor, there is as much enjoyment to be had from the expressions on his face when he is not speaking as from the delivery of his lines. There are also stand out performances from Joseph Timms as the innocent new arrival and Angus Wright as the over-zealous Major. Amidst the hilarity, the more serious themes are brought out well and, despite the dating, I still found it a satisfying and pleasurable evening.

Chekhov is the staple diet of middle brow theatre-going, with four plays (occasionally a fifth), all firmly fixed in time and style, rotating to make regular appearances. This production certainly lives up to the best West End traditions, the sets and lighting are excellent and Lindsay Posner’s direction is solid and meticulous. The play is Chekhov’s lament on ageing, unrequited love, missed opportunities, wasted lives, boredom and (presciently for 1899) damage to the environment. Ken Stott is superb as the title character, moving effortlessly between sardonic humour, frustration, rage and resignation. He is ably supported by Samuel West, Anna Friel, Laura Carmichael, Paul Freeman, Anna Carteret, etc, all perfectly cast in their roles. However, what I was really looking for was the spark of originality to ignite this production and set it apart from all the other Chekhovs. Sadly it never appeared.

Devised and performed by the Stan’s Cafe group, this show Is part of the 2013 London International Mime Festival. It consists of four performers, three as Roman Catholic cardinals and one as a Muslim stage hand, acting out scenes from Middle East mythology and history, stretching from the Old Testament to an apocalypse in the near future. My own lack of knowledge of the Bible meant that many of the jokes in the first half went over my head but, nonetheless, I found it inventive, consistently amusing and often hilarious with much of the humour arising from intentional mishaps in the seemingly chaotic staging.

Exquisite puppets and expert puppetry are deployed to tell the tale of an “angel” descending on a small coastal community. Beautiful story telling, amusing for children and thought-provoking for adults.

Far from the bleak Scandinavian drama that the title suggests, Conor McPherson’s translation of August Strindberg’s play is richly textured and darkly comic. Kevin R McNally and Indira Varna play a warring couple whose marriage is nearing either its 25th anniversary or its end and Daniel Lapaine plays a figure from their past who is drawn into the battlefield. The tiny space of this studio theatre is absolutely ideal for this intimate human drama which is performed to perfection and absorbs the audience totally. This is an evening of all-round excellence.

The National has thrown everything at this jolly production for the Festive Season: there are magnificent Ronald Searle inspired surreal sets, delightful G&S style songs that introduce and close each act and the splendid American comic actor John Lithgow stars as the hapless title character. Yet it is trimmings such as these that linger in the memory and the main course, Arthur Wing Pinero’s slightly satirical late-19th Century farce, seems rather unworthy of them. Whilst it is true that there are some moments of inspired comedy, sadly there are also long spells of tedium when not even the greatest efforts of those involved can breathe life into the play.