Review of ‘Much ado about Nothing’ starring David Tennant and Catherine Tate, at the Wyndham’s theatre, London: Saturday 6th August 2011

Review of ‘Much ado about Nothing’ starring David Tennant and Catherine Tate, at the Wyndham’s theatre, London: Saturday 6^th August 2011, by Carla Riley.

After the triumph, both on the stage and on the smaller screen in 2010 of Hamlet, it was with much eagerness that tickets for David Tennant’s next foray into Shakespeare were snapped up. Any fan of recent Dr Who will know that, despite first impressions, Catherine Tate and David Tennant proved, beyond a doubt, that they worked well together as a team, the question was, would they translate that energy to a live performance? The answer, for this reviewer anyway, is a resounding yes. If the responses of the matinee audience were anything to go by, the three standing ovations and cries of ‘best play I’ve seen in years’ would suggest the majority concur.

Much ado about nothing, by its very title suggests a focus on relationship struggles and language rather than plot substance. The more usual comedy of this play, especially the set pieces of Tennant’s overheard conversations and mistaken assumptions, appear alongside a cleverly designed revolving set. This allows for circumstantial as well as ironic humour, as well as the all important banter between Beatrice and Benedick, which fans of the play know and love.

By setting the play in 1980s Gibraltar, designers have bought forward a swaggering, beer drinking and golf buggy driving (complete with British and Scottish flags) OTT Benedick, a contrast to the more subdued yet delightfully sarcastic Catherine Tate, yet still opinionated enough as Beatrice to act nearly every one else off the stage. What seems difficult to follow on the page, disguises, mistaken and overheard opinions, assumptions of chastity and disgrace, are easy to follow here, played out in a subtle yet intricate way, a tribute to the original text and the skills of the performers.

Tennant especially shows himself to be a master at comic timing, set pieces involving paint, an electronic keyboard and dressing up in drag (love the Elvis shades) prove more amusing than the text can ever purvey, almost having to be seen to be believed. The love story between the two B’s is made all the more realistic in the more complex dramatic scenes, following nicely from the opening scenes, where Tennant and Tate allow seeming apathy and indifference between their characters to shift, over time, into unrequited love.

Although this reviewer has to admit that their passions lie, not with Shakespeare’s comedies, rather with the tragedies, the stars alone were worth a gamble, one which, in this case, paid off handsomely, highly recommended.

Benedict   But it is certain I
am loved of all ladies, only you excepted: and I
would I could find in my heart that I had not a hard
heart; for, truly, I love none.

Beatrice  I thank God
and my cold blood, I am of your humour for that: I
had rather hear my dog bark at a crow than a man
swear he loves me.

Short story, written for on-line OU course 2011

‘Surprise Surprise’

One

          It’s always the boyfriend they look at first, isn’t it? The minute I got back, could see he wasn’t there but it looked wrong…if I had to put it into words that is. Muddy trainers in the hallway, no sign the bed was slept in and the flat was cold, he always turns the heating on. I knew that if something had happened they’d look at me first, is that shock, realism or paranoia?

Now I’m just waiting for them to come back and ask me more questions, always questions…where was I, who did I see, where did I go? Who cares, they don’t seem to.

Two.

Mark sighed as he slammed the door behind him, dumping his shoes and socks in the cluttered hall. It had been an alright night, he thought, but now he was tired and hungry. The Chinese Takeaway so appealing on the kitchen counter, maybe it would soak up the couple of shots he’d had earlier. At least they were quick up the road, he never felt like hanging around the High Street after dark.

He turned on the oven and unpacked the food from the plastic bag, humming what sounded like an X-Factor song, to him anyway. One of the perks of jogging, he thought, you can cheat with a Takeaway once in a while, wouldn’t kill him just the once. Mark decided to pop in the shower while the food was heating up and his beer getting cold in the fridge, he knew he wouldn’t really feel like it later on after he’d eaten, could smell from his t-shirt it was more a necessity than an option.

After he’d turned off the spray, wrapping a towel around his waist, he carefully pulled all the hairs from the drain, taking care to flush them down the loo, couldn’t be too careful, Adam was always going on about the risk of blocking it, not worth the argument if he left even a few in there. At last, time to sit down and enjoy this dinner, he was starving.

Three

‘What exactly did you see when you got home Sir’, DCI Tina Priesus asked.

‘I already told you, he wasn’t there and it didn’t look much like he had been all day. He was off today, down the gym or the pub I suppose, and then out with some friends last night. He should have been there when I got back, but he wasn’t, was he’.

‘Who called the police’ Tina asked.

‘I did, when I couldn’t get hold of him and found his phone in the bedroom, and his trainers, never seen him go out without them on, loves the bloody things; I thought it was best to call, better safe than sorry.’

I thought maybe she’d smile a bit, I was trying to be sarcastic but nothing, not even a hint, it was going to be a long night.

‘Tell me again from the beginning’ Tina pressed, leaning forward over the Formica table in the Police interview room, ‘once more for the record’.

How did I get in this mess? Repeating myself to the police about something I have no idea about, I wasn’t even there.

‘I was at a friends for the weekend, a stag do, four of us. He didn’t want to come, doesn’t really share our enthusiasm for paint balling, too messy really. Not my type of thing either really, but good for a laugh occasionally, I think he likes a bit of peace and quiet while I go away, or a chance to let his hair down’.

‘How did you know he wasn’t still with them when you got back?’

‘I told you, he’d dumped his trainers, looked like he’d been out for a jog in the park, after he saw his mates maybe, or just because he fancied it?’

‘Maybe he got a cab back?’

‘He doesn’t trust cabs, you never know who you get do you? Too risky, people round here can be really prejudiced, you know.’

I think she didn’t, no surprise there. How long do I have to sit here repeating myself, questions going round and round with nobody any the wiser? Please, just give me a break.

Four.

Mark sat back on the sofa, reasonably content but feeling, if the truth be told, a little queasy. That Takeaway always made the mixed vegetables a bit too greasy; if he were to be totally honest it was swimming in fat, most likely what made it taste nice in the first place. He looked at the empty foil containers, greasy lids and the congealing contents, empty beer can. Decided however tired and lazy he was, couldn’t really leave them for Adam to find in the morning. He’d love that, the flat stinking of Chinese food, all the containers on the lounge table, an argument waiting to happen.

He decided to quickly dump the whole lot in the outside bin. He’d eaten from the containers on his lap so no washing up or mess to tidy, then he could put the telly on and maybe catch Match of the Day, or the last few matches at least! He put his slippers on and tipped the whole lot into the bag it came in. He pulled the front door to but he didn’t lock it, wouldn’t be gone that long, a quick look through the peep hole in the door and then nipped out, his breath catching as he realised it was about -2˚c and he had no socks on, best get a move on then. Bag in the wheelie bin and then he turned, stopping suddenly as he realised how stupid he’d been. If anyone had seen him come out they could be in the flat now, or behind the door waiting right now. ‘Don’t be silly’ he said out loud, as much for his own sake as anyone listening, more likely to freeze to death worrying about it.

Five.

I’ve been sitting in this flat for days now, ‘nothing you can do Sir’ they say. They tell me I’m not a suspect now but that doesn’t make me feel any better, who is then? No escape from wondering what happened to him. Surely he wouldn’t just leave me like that, we were good together, well I thought so anyway. The door was shut; no sign anyone had ever been here except the trainers, didn’t even take his phone with him? I can’t live the rest of my life not knowing, people looking at me like I’m a criminal, but really, if I’m honest I don’t want to think about it, what might have happened, does that make me a bad person?

Six.

I keep the knife hidden behind me, I don’t want him to make any noise, just yet or be frightened, better if they keep quiet as long as they can. He doesn’t see me as he puts the bag I saw him with earlier in the bin, it was easy to get the takeaway to add more oil to the food, I can very persuasive when I want to be. Most people will do anything they don’t think will hurt anyone for £20, luckily for me.

After he left the flat I turned off the TV and closed the front door, one of those ones that lock themselves so he’s not getting back inside in a hurry. Not many neighbours around either, all out or asleep, it’s late, he’ll spot me in a minute I suspect but I don’t think he’ll be afraid, people are so trusting these days, especially when they see the knife, tends to have that effect on people.

Seven.

It’s been more than a week, no sign, no news, no nothing. My imagination is running away with me I think, starting to crack a bit. The bloke in the paper shop was looking at me funny yesterday, thinks I’m guilty of something I recon, besides not paying my paper bill. That lady police woman came round this morning, nice of her I suppose, just to say the usual, no leads, no suspects; no sign…surprise surprise, maybe if they hadn’t wasted so much time questioning me earlier they would have found him by now.

Eight.

It’s really easy to get away with murder, if you know the right people. I suppose you think you know me don’t you, think you know what I’ve done…wrong. You see, I kidnap people for money, quite a lot of money at that. As I say, if you know people in the right places you can get away with pretty much anything. Mark wanted to get away from his bloke and was willing to pay, sounds like a right nasty piece of work if you ask me. He wanted it to look like a random thing, so we agreed I wouldn’t tell him when I’d snatch him, a surprise you could call it. He’s safe now, we’ll find somewhere for him to go when everything dies down and Adam’s out of the way. Soon the boyfriend will be a real suspect, I wonder when I question him again he’ll realise, I doubt it, nobody ever suspects a copper do they?

(c) C Riley 2011

‘Macbeth’ at the Globe Theatre, London on 20 June 2010

Review by Carla Riley

‘Macbeth’ at the Globe Theatre, London on 20 June 2010

There is a certain irony in choosing to see one of Shakespeare’s darker tragedies-one which shows the murder of children and a father’s loss and revenge-on Fathers day!

Director Lucy Bailey has taken inspiration for the brutal Scottish setting and origins of the play from Dante’s Divine Comedy, and for the greater part the visual look of the play succeeds in its vision of a hell, both of the mind and of the place it portrays. The instant you sit down (for us the middle gallery) and see at least a hundred or more patrons with standing tickets, transformed into a living hell, headless bodies poking out from a large black cover attached to the stage. This is used to great effect when even before the play begins, the three witches creep underneath and around on the ground, popping up and scaring those who at that point most likely wished they had less audience participation.

This play is and always was meant to depict violence, Macbeth’s rise and fall, his greed, lust and desire for power at any cost. From the moment the witches’ prophesise his ascent to ‘the throne of Cawdor’ we believe that he will succeed, yet lose everything. Elliot Cowan gives a thrilling (and much muscled) performance as Macbeth (as in so many of Shakespeare’s plays) the shift between order and disorder, sanity and insanity is subtle yet apparent over time, allowing us to feel sympathy as well as disgust for Macbeth’s actions. He is trapped in a situation wholly of his own making.

Scenes of impact within the theme of hell on earth were used to great shock value (again poor standing patrons at the front) with the appearance of Banquo’s ghost, ironically becoming a central part of Macbeth’s banquet. Shakespeare’s scanty stage direction of ‘ghost appears and sits in Macbeth’s place’ is re-imagined with an inventive use of trap doors beneath the stage, allowing Banquo’s bloody corpse to emerge from a large plate of food to torment and scare characters and audience alike. We see what Macbeth sees but the others do not, we become implicit to his crime, a sort of guilt by association.

The Globe theatre itself, however, has limitations for the modern theatre goer and actors performing. When it was re-built (or re-imagined) to be as accurate as possible to the original they did not seem to be aware or concerned how a contemporary theatre goer would have quite so many interruptions from the modern world around the theatre. As Macbeth laments ‘Pity…upon the sightless curriers of the air’ (1:7) he had fear of being drowned out by both plane and helicopters, both regularly circling overhead, neither welcome for authenticity or atmosphere.

The Globe’s customary song and dance, after the finale (signalling life goes on after the curtain falls) seems a jolt here, despite its Scottish feel. After so much horror and death, something so upbeat and positive will either bring a smile to your face or leave you feeling oddly detached, but either way…glad to be alive.

Play review, Romeo and Juliet

Review of Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare

Performed on Tuesday 23^rd November 2010 by the Southend Shakespeare Company, Palace Theatre, Westcliff on Sea, Essex.

By Carla Riley

In fair Verona we sat and surveyed the scene before us, for two hours traffic with patient ears we did attend to the SCC performance of Romeo and Juliet, a play known to many in various guises and forms, from the modern re-interpretation of Leonardo DiCaprio in Verona beach to the dramatic tensions of Franco Zeffirelli’s 1960s re telling and even West Side Story. This performance sticks to the regular format of traditional text and costume as well as two young leads that almost convince they are the star-cross’d lovers ignorant in their innocence of the fate which will befall them.

It is this innocence and spark between the two main leads which is the most important part of the play to me; we must believe that they would give up everything to be together, family, friends and even their lives. In this way, although technically and professionally competent, we never really believe that Tyler Conti (Romeo) and Elena Clements (Juliet) have enough passion for their own romance, let alone enough to carry the whole play. This is a shame as Clements especially has performed admirably in a variety of challenging roles for the SCC in previous seasons, even convincing as Joan of Arc (complete with passable French accent). It fell then to Fred Hickey as Mercutio to carry the early scenes of the play until his untimely demise, I for one look forward to any other work he performs in as he added vibrancy to the play that never quite recovered itself after he left the stage.

As always, the intimate setting of the Dixon Studio remains the only way to see small scale theatre, allowing the watcher to immerse themselves in the action and language and really feel part of the play, get under the skin of the characters and lose themselves as the story unfolds. Madeleine Ayers more than helped to make up for the lead pairs limitations by portraying the Nurse as a real three dimensional character, both comedic and serious by turns and always utterly riveting. The plays themes of punishment for the sins of the Father’s comes to the forefront in this performance, showing how even limited sets, costumes and space can create a visual representation of a far larger area, with one set used as Juliet’s balcony, her bedroom and eventually her tomb. The sound effects of the tomb echoes itself seemed a work in progress, spoiling the actors lines and creating a barrier to understand the language and emotions on view, however, first night performances rarely resemble those further in the tour so maybe this had been rectified by later performances.

For a play so well known, the SCC have done well to create some fantastic performances from Ayres and Hickey, it’s just a shame that the passion and danger was all in the wrong places.

 Stay tuned for more reviews coming in the next few months