August In England by Lenny Henry, Bush Theatre, 6 May 2023

I hate to sound smug…actually that’s not true…I delight in the smug thought that it was my idea to book this one, back in November when the Bush Theatre spring season was first announced.

Janie had of course consented to booking it but then largely forgotten all about it, as indeed had I, until the date grew near and we re-engaged with the production.

“Isn’t Lenny Henry a stand-up comedian? I don’t like stand-up comedy,” said Janie.

“He moved on from stand-up comedy a long time ago. Lenny Henry writes – this is a proper play.”

“Do you think he’ll be there on the night?”, asked Janie, who had clearly retained even less about this production than I had.

“I do hope so. It is a one-man show written and performed by Lenny Henry, so it will be more than a little bit disappointing if he doesn’t show up.

Lenny Henry did show up. His grounding in stand-up comedy was never too far away. He opens the play by endearing himself to the audience, not least by giving a few lucky punters a tot of rum. He then tells the story of his character, August Henderson, through a mixture of witty, bitter-sweet and some out-and-out funny anecdotes.

August’s life in Dudley/West Bromwich echoes that of the young Lenny Henry, although August must have been born a few years before Lenny Henry and, unlike Henry himself, the August character was born in Jamaica and brought to England by his mum as an infant. This subtle distinction is fundamentally important as the story unfolds.

Lenny Henry has superb stage presence. Not only does he still “have what it takes” to deliver anecdotes like a top-drawer stand-up comedian, he also dramatizes August’s sad story masterfully through words, expressions and movement. He tells the tale of his love for Clarice and the three children they produce. Also his love of reggae and ska music. His anecdote about skinheads especially resonated with me:

They loved reggae and ska in the beginning, but after a while they stopped loving us. I still don’t know what changed.

I’ve always wondered about that.

The nub of August’s story – or at least its denouement – is the Windrush scandal – the appalling 2012 Government policy creating a “hostile environment” for people who do not have leave to remain in the UK. While this policy was not targeted at people who had been British citizens in former Empire and Commonwealth countries, thousands of people from the Windrush generation – mostly people who came as children from the Caribbean in the 1950s and 1960s, were caught by this ill-considered change in law and policy. People lost their homes and/or their jobs – many were even deported, despite protections that had been enshrined in earlier laws specifically to prevent such injustices. I shouldn’t get on my own political high horse about this, but I’m going to anyway – the whole affair was a shambolic political sh*t-shower which made me (and many others who share my sense of justice) profoundly ashamed of my own Government.

August’s story unfolds with more subtlety than my paragraph above. Yes, really.

The ending of the play is shocking, poignant and thought-provoking. I especially liked the technique – borrowed from verbatim theatre – of getting several real people who were caught up in these injustices to tell their own stories on the screen. It brought home the reality in a way that the comedy drama – delivered by Lenny Henry’s flawed but loveable character August – could not manage alone.

Here is a link to the Bush resources on this play/production. I’d recommend this play/production highly. Unfortunately this run is sold out, but hopefully it will get a transfer as it deserves a bigger audience than five or six weeks-worth of Bush Theatre aficionados.

Mostly rave reviews and deservedly so. Click here for a link that should bring up most if not all of them.

Smug? Moi?

Booby’s Bay by Henry Darke, Finborough Theatre, 9 February 2018

Oh dear.

We found this one a real dud. Both the play and the production.

The subject matter really interested us. The housing crisis and the notion of a protester taking on the establishment…

…but this play missed the mark for us in so many ways. The protester was not only a flawed hero (that’s a good idea for such a play) but is in many ways a shirking beneficiary of the housing crisis. It is hard to buy into the conceit of a play when you find the moral hero at the core quite so conflicted and irritating.

Click here or image below for a link to the Finborough resource on this play/production.

The production had ideas beyond its ability to deliver too, with several long interludes of singing and movement that were almost embarrassing in their amateurishness. Janie struggled (failed) to avoid laughing in inappropriate places at times – the good news being that those were such noisy times, few if any other people would have noticed.

Another scene that really didn’t work for us…let’s call it the shark scene…had us laughing at the artlessness of the performance rather than at the material itself, which was meant to be comedic, but not in that way.

The good news for us was that we were both in a pretty relaxed mood on that Friday evening; this lemon of a play/production was so poor it almost entertained us to share that sorry experience and chat about it afterwards. Had we been in a stressy-end-of-the-week mood, having rushed to get to the theatre on time, we might have been far less amused.

Also, as we were just around the corner from Mohsen, we had a very tasty Persian meal to look forward to and then enjoy in Noddyland after the show.

Here is a link to the reviews, which have not been brilliant although some have been much kinder than ours.

We really do think it is a shame that this one was such a flop for us. We’re becoming very fond of the Finborough and we also both think that the subject matter – the housing and inequality crisis in our society, is a very relevant topic for theatrical treatment at the moment. Just not this play/production.

Here is a link to the trailer:

BOOBY’S BAY Trailer 1 from Henry Darke on Vimeo.

Twilight: Los Angeles 1992 by Anna Deavere Smith, Gate Theatre, 12 January 2018

I’m so often saying how wonderful The Gate Theatre is under Ellen McDougall’s new regime, I’m starting to bore myself by saying it.

We loved The Unknown Island…

The Unknown Island adapted from a short story by José Saramago, Gate Theatre, 29 September 2017

…we loved Suzy Storck…

Suzy Storck by Magali Mougel, Gate Theatre, 10 November 2017

…and now I’m not going to surprise you by saying that we thought this production of Twilight: Los Angeles 1992 was also superb.

We nearly didn’t book it – we wondered whether this was overly heavy subject matter for us on a Friday evening and whether the 1991/1992 news aspect of it (the aftermath of the Latasha Harlins killing, the Rodney King video/policemen’s trial and the resulting riots) might make this verbatim play seem dated.

But in this post-truth, crazy era of ours the piece seemed eerily topical and prescient.

We arrived to a heaving lobby – there was a large party of Americans on a London Theatre marathon who had virtually bought out the house for the night.

Turned out the Americans were an exceptionally friendly and polite bunch who pretty much pushed us to the front to collect our tickets, apologising for the fact that they were a huge bunch of visitors preventing the locals from getting their tickets. Perhaps Janie and I had “make way/Brexity” expressions on our faces when we came in from the wind-chill-factor-enhanced bitter cold.

When we got to the front, apart from the ticket desk chap, the only faces that looked as though they might not be the American party were Daisy Cooper from the Gate production team (whom I mistook for an actress) and Caoilfhionn Dunne who had played Suzy Storck, but to whom I couldn’t say, “good evening Caoilfhionn” because I couldn’t remember how to pronounce her name; it’s pronounced “kay-lean”, btw. I did get a chance to congratulate her on her stellar Suzy Storck performance just before we all went in.

The ticket man didn’t give us tickets, he gave us badges to wear and a pen with which to label up the badges. I emblazoned mine thus:

At Janie’s request, I emblazoned hers with the name, “Daisy”, plus her talk about topic, “life”.

Daisy Cooper pointed out that her name was Daisy too.

On to the show, which is a one woman performance.

The actress, Nina Bowers, was superb. I have had to do some real detective work to discover her identity, though, as there was no leaflet on the night and at the time of writing (14 January 2018) the Gate website is silent on that matter.

There is an excellent preview piece by Ellen McDougall – click here – which says watch this space for cast…

…but on the main resource for this production – click here – at the time of writing, only the creatives are listed, not poor Nina Bowers, who has to play 20 parts all by herself and plays them brilliantly well. I guess the piece is about injustice and powerlessness in the face of such injustice, so perhaps Nina Bowers will enjoy the irony of her credit’s omission…

…or perhaps the injustice will have been put right by the time you read this Ogblog piece.

Nina even serves intermission drinks and biscuits to the audience – yes really. In fact, this is a performance without a real interval, but for 10 minutes towards the end of the show, the piece itself has a short intermission for tea, biscuits and conversation around the subject matter on our badges.

Janie and I chatted with a charming young American woman who turned out to be one of a handful of the audience who, like us, was not with the large party of New Jersey-folk. She was in fact from Orange County – not too far from the location of the riots but far too young to remember them. She must have been mighty confused when she asked about my fish, because I told her that my pet goldfish, Simon, had died and Daisy told her that my koi carp was named Peter and had gone down the plug hole.

No-one asked Daisy about life, probably because she had put her badge on upside down which made it quite hard to read.

If this all sounds silly and superficial, please do not be deceived by my ramblings and please do not be put off this play/production.

It is seriously well worth seeing – a very well-crafted piece of verbatim theatre about the terrible injustices that played out in Los Angeles in 1991 and 1992 which led to the riots, some further injustices and eventually an element of correcting some of the injustices and reconciliation. The USA has not eradicated the culture that led to those injustices and the subject matter seemed all-too relevant today.

I cooked a pasta dish for Janie after the show, using an excellent Speck sauce. We did not talk about fish and we did not talk about life – we were talking about Twilight: Los Angeles 1992.

Highly recommended, this play/production.

Cast – Nina Bowers – playing all the parts – remember where you read her name first.

The Rolling Stone by Chris Urch, Orange Tree Theatre, 16 January 2016

We seem fated to sit next to the luvvies this year. Last week Daisy ended up with Benedict Wong sitting next to her at The Royal Court. Then earlier this week, she took a call from the Orange Tree , to see if we minded shifting up one seat on our row to make space for an actors’ seat. I’m not sure what would have happened if we had refused this request. Anyway, I ended up with half the cast sitting next to me at one time or another (not all at the same time).

Don’t let the jovial start to this posting deceive you. This was another bleak piece about troubled people in a troubled place. This time the place is Uganda and the story is basically that of a young man who gets himself and his religious family caught up in the persecution of gay people. At no point in the play would you sensibly anticipate a happy ending.

The play has won awards and is another of Paul Miller’s canny transfers from Royal Exchange Manchester, where it was deservedly very well received – see synopsis, reviews from Manchester (presumably, eventually, also from Richmond – we attended the last Oraneg Tree Preview), cast and creative credits here.

This is only Chris Urch’s second play, so his is certainly a name to look out for in future.

The title, The Rolling Stone, refers to a newspaper in Uganda that acts as a focal point for persecution by naming and shaming homosexuals.  You’d need a heart of stone not to be moved by this production and the real life plight of gay people in Uganda (and indeed many parts of the world), which this play puts under the spotlight.

Bakkhai by Euripides, Almeida Theatre, 22 August 2015

Janie’s not normally one for classics, but this was promised as a new version of Bakkhai, so we went for it.

In truth, Bakkhai cannot modernise in the way that, say, Medea (which, as part of this Almeida Greeks season, really was modernised) can.

Still, this was a superb production so we both really enjoyed it. Ben Whishaw is exceptional, but the whole cast was good, as was the design, choreography, the lot.

Excellent Almeida stub with all the details, including links to most of the major reviews, saving me the trouble – click here. Those reviews were almost universally very good.

Nuff said.

 

 

The Belle Of The Belfast City by Christina Reid, Orange Tree Room, 5 June 1993

Of the three plays Janie and I went to see at the Orange Tree Room together, before that “above the pub” bit of the Orange Tree empire closed down, this is the only one for which I still have the “programme” – i.e. sheet of paper:

Just as well I have the sheet, because, unlike Saigon Rose – click here or below…

Saigon Rose by David Edgar, Orange Tree Room, 20 March 1993

…I cannot find any reviews on-line.

Ian Angus Wilkie of NewsRevue fame once again found his way into the cast; he must have found favour with the Orange Tree folk back then and for good reason.

I was gutted that Ian Angus Wilkie didn’t list NewsRevue in his recent relevant experience – it had only been about a year before – perhaps less ( I have a feeling he did Edinburgh or Christmas that 1992 year). How could he hold back on reporting that career highlight?

All I wrote in my log for this one was that I thought it was a very good play/production – which was the way I felt about all the things we saw in that Orange Tree Room…but in truth this was the least memorable of the three, for me.