I received a kind invitation to see and review this play/production – a fairly rare occurrence for me at a location and on a day that I was able to do. Janie has been summonsed to the Old Bailey (she claims it is jury service) so I ventured south of the river alone.
I’d never been to The White Bear Theatre, Kennington before. It is a “room above a pub” theatre, much in the style of, in the old days, The Bush (The Bush Theatre now has its own swanky space around the corner from the old pub), The Gate (which has moved from above a pub in convenient Notting Hill to an inconvenient space in Camden) and The Finborough Theatre (which is still in its original location, but currently has no pub underneath!). Indeed The White Bear appears to be, much like The Finborough, a magnet for new writing, which earns it a huge thumbs-up from me.
The White Bear is just around the corner from picturesque Cleaver Square
I suspect it is the Finborough connection that led to my e-mail address being in Sarah Lawrie’s e-rolodex, as she produced a couple of productions there which I had reviewed favourably: Scrounger by Athena Stevens and Death Of A Hunter by Rolf Hochhuth.
OK, so I had not seen Sarah Lawrie act before, but I had seen director Jonathan Woolf act a small part in a big production: Travelling Light at the RNT, in 2012 just before “I parted ways” with Nick Hytner the following year.
Can Sarah act as well as produce? Can Jonathan direct as well as act?
***Spoiler alert*** – yes they can.
The Box is a fringe-theatre-style one hour drama. Very much the style of play we like.
I found the first 20 or so minutes bemusing. I know I was supposed to be bemused, but perhaps just a bit too long or a bit too bemusing.
I wrote the word “disjointed” in my jotter. I also wrote “collection of vignettes”.
But soon the drama and tragedy that underpins the play was unfolding and the meaning of those disjointed scenes became apparent.
During the initial scenes, I was unimpressed by the acting; it came across as am-dram overacting. Frankly, I was surprised that both performers were fringe-award-winning actors based on those early scenes. But once it became clear that I was witnessing, in those early scenes, fine actors playing the role of ordinary folk acting out fantasies, I was with the message. How could I not be, given that Janie and I have Ged, Daisy and a cast of thousands to play with?
How this might play out in the USA, where even fringe audiences are prone to walk out after 10 or 15 minutes if they are displeased, I don’t know. That’s worth the playwright and cast thinking about, though, as the play struck me as having an American feel to it that could, with minor revision, do well over there.
…all of which are very successful American plays. That is not to say that the play is derivative, but several of its themes share themes with those plays.
Photograph by Alex Walton.
I thought both performers were very good indeed; as the play went on and as the tragedy became clearer, they performed dramatically but without melodrama. Sarah Lawrie in particular came across as a sympathetic character, but as the story unfolded the bottled-up anguish of Martin Edwards’s character also came to the fore.
Photograph by Alex Walton.
If you want to see this production at The White Bear, you only have until 3 August to see it. It deserves a bigger audience than it is getting at that small but sweet space. But then, how often do I find myself thinking that about fine drama at fringe theatres?
To the Royal Court Theatre on a Friday evening. “Why Friday?”, I hear you cry. Because the Royal Court is now, in its wisdom, starting Saturday shows at 6:30, which is a bit early for us in the summer months, when we like to take advantage of the outdoors in daylight.
This sounded a bit more techie but a similar idea.
That’s exactly what it was.
When we booked it we had no idea who we were going to see. We discovered a week or so before our evening that our performer was to be Rebecca Lucy Taylor aka Self Esteem.
This is what she looks like when she does one of her more regular things – singing contemporary music:
It is hard to review a piece like this because I imagine every performer stamps their own mark on the piece – that is sort-of the idea. But certainly the evening we spent at The Royal Court was a gripping 80-90 minutes of theatre, using multi-media the way theatre can use multi-media best. It added to the live performance rather than making me wonder whether we should simply be at home watching a film.
It seems to have had mixed reviews, but then different reviewers saw different performers respond to the piece in different ways. Here’s a link to reviews.
We found it moving and thought-provoking. We’re very glad we went and we’re very glad we saw Self Esteem. We could have done without the screaming groupies, but you can’t have everything…or rather you can’t omit everything that you don’t want.
The piece is basically an adaptation of a book by Maggie Nelson, which is a narrated story, more in the form of a poetic meditation than a novel.
All of the cast were excellent: Emma D’Arcy, Kayla Meikle & Ben Whishaw – especially the former.
The use of film projections and intriguing props, which we often find a distraction when we see them used in theatrical productions, worked extremely well in this piece. I have subsequently read the book and realise that the visual devices were, in a way, a distraction from some of the words, but in a good way given the dramatic sense those devices gave to the production.
Reviews are out now, although we saw a preview. (IT has taken me a few weeks to get around to writing this up). Click here for a link that shows the reviews. The reviews are mixed. londontheatrereviews.co.uk shared our feeling that this was as an excellent example of theatrical productions using projections. But I sense that Susannah Clapp in The Observer was more intrigued by the piece than overboard about it. Time Out found it a bit obscure, as did theartsdesk.com
Click through the preceding link, read the reviews…and if you get the chance, see the show and decide for yourselves!
Long in the planning, this week off was a much-needed short vacation for me and Janie, having had no holiday time for yonks.
Yet we nearly didn’t even get started, as I had some sort of mishap at the start of the weekend before we set off.
Saturday and Sunday 11 & 12 May – Something’s Afoot
I woke up on Saturday morning feeling sore just under the lateral left ankle. Janie said I had been thrashing around, seemingly in pain, during the night. She had assumed cramp. I had no recollection of such thrashing but this felt like more than cramp.
An attempt to run it off playing tennis on Saturday morning (perhaps a foolish move) did not help; indeed I couldn’t even walk by the time we got home. Despite us spending Saturday afternoon and evening doing the RICE routine with the foot, come Sunday morning, I could still take no weight on the foot and was really concerned that our trip might be in jeopardy.
I thought I should inform Alastair Robson, one of The Doctors Of Leamington, who had organised the tennis and luncheon aspects of the trip: Leamington on the way up on the Monday and Moreton Morrell on the way home on the Friday.
Me & Alastair, no doubt talking balls, at Leamington in 2023
I regret to inform you that I have done myself a mysterious mischief around the ankle…Janie heard me scream out in pain during the night Friday (I have no recollection of it) and/but I had some sensitivity below my lateral ankle yesterday. I thought I could “shake it off”, as the young folk say, but by last night and this morning I was more or less completely non-weight bearing.
We suspect the anterior talofibular ligament, which is utilising its right to remain silent but is looking more than a little guilty this morning.
The upshot as of this morning is that I cannot weight bear on that leg again yet, let alone run. I am hopeful that my condition will improve quite rapidly but I don’t suppose I’ll be properly balanced/mobile again for a while.
I am happy to present myself at the tennis courts Monday and Friday to do the best I can, but the best I can might not be much good. Janie and I would love to lunch with you if the friendly games and lunches go ahead, either with me or without me playing the tennis.
Alastair sent a quintessentially retired-doctor’s (or more accurately, a quintessentially Alastair Robson) reply:
Aargh! But never dismiss the power of prayer (the Dr using irony as treatment – lost on some of the patients)…
There will be a pro knocking around in both clubs on the days in question, so we could always rope him in as a fourth, if need be…
Anterior talo-fib ligament?- a very flash diagnosis: going for Honours, I presume.
A small sacrifice – a goat, say – to Jupiter might speed healing rate.
‘Better soon’ – as I also used to say a lot –
We did consider prayer and/or goat sacrifice – after all, the doctor had recommended it and you should always listen to the doctor, but decided to persevere with the RICE method. Within a few hours, I detected improvement and wrote again to Alastair:
When you have a podiatrist in the house, the phrase “sprained ankle” is simply not specific enough. I’m certainly not aiming for yet more flashy honours at my age and stage!
Janie and I are neither praying to God, nor gods, nor sacrificing any beasts in hope rather than expectation. But elevation yesterday evening, immobilisation overnight, ice this morning and the more meaningful sacrifice of the hour of lawn that Janie and I should be playing this morning, is, so far, paying significant dividends. I’m still hobbling but can weight bear again now and the intense pain has subsided.
Your Plan B regarding the pros availability as substitutes sounds ideal in the circumstances. Given the trio of talent that would remain on show if I were to need to stop, the pros will no doubt be resorting to prayer and caprine/ovine sacrifice for the next 24 hours/few days respectively.
See you tomorrow as planned.
Monday 13 May – Leamington For Tennis, Then On To Stratford-Upon Avon
By the Monday morning my left foot felt much better and I was happy to drive (which mostly works the right) and give the real tennis a try.
John Yarnall & I partnered well, I felt
Remarkably, I was barely hampered at all and I thought played pretty well, John Yarnall & I partnering well against Alastair and Norman Hyde. The latter two, me and Janie went to lunch at Cote, then Janie and I set off for Stratford.
We got to our Airbnb cottage around 17:00, which gave us time to dump our things and go off to the local Waitrose to get some provisions, before getting ready to go out to the theatre.
Our lovely cottage was located to the south-west of the centre, being about 10 minutes walk from the central shops, restaurants and theatres.
It was a bit wet in the evening, but still we strolled to The Other Place for our show, English, which I have written up separately – click here or below.
The weather relented into a very pleasant late afternoon.
On our way to the talk, we stopped at Marcos, which I had assessed as “the deli most likely” for our trip. I was a bit short of the sort of coffee I like so we bought a pack of cafetière coffee. We showed interest in the food too, but I suspect Tony was not expecting to see us again when we departed on Tuesday, as he greeted us so warmly the next morning when we returned for bread and lasagne.
The talk about English was very interesting – described in the above piece about our visit to the show…or click here for that link.
After the talk, but before our dinner at Lambs, we had a drink in the garden of The Arden. This was a nice treat for us, as we stayed at The Arden last time we stayed in Stratford, in 2019, but the weather had not smiled enough for us to take a drink in the garden that time.
We enjoyed ourselves at Lambs so much Janie forgot to take “food porn” photos of our dinner. Take our word for it, it looked as good as it tasted. We ate:
Crispy Sweet Chilli Duck Salad with watercress, beansprouts and cucumber
Pan-fried Calves Liver with creamed potato, wilted spinach, pancetta and crispy shallots
Pork Chop with grilled hispi cabbage, creamed potato, crispy shallots, cider and bacon sauce
Bennett’s Farm Ice-cream
Yum.
Wednesday 15 May – Tennis, Town & Terrace
The weather was lovely on this day. We resolved to get some bread and some portions of lasagne from Marcos, which would enable us, together with the provisions we had already procured, to self-cater that day.
Problem was, we resolved to get to Marcos reasonably early to secure bread, but hadn’t taken into account the fact that the pasta dishes are not ready that early.
Had we phoned in advance…
Still, no hardship having a couple of hours to kill in Stratford. We decided to wander around town and also wander across the bridge to the Sports Club, to investigate tennis possibilities in person.
We bought some doggie gifts in the dog shop for Kim’s pooch. Then some sandals for me and shoes for Janie in the shoe shop. Then we strolled by the river and across the bridge to the sports centre.
The Sports Club people were friendly enough – they let us look at the tennis courts and informed me that I could register as a guest and pay to play if we wanted to. The courts are mostly carpet, with three being “euro clay” -i.e. synthetic clay (sand-like stuff) on a matting base. We thought we’d like to try the latter.
We strolled home via Marcos, where our lasagne and bread was waiting for us. Then we booked our tennis and readied ourselves for battle.
It took us both a while to get used to the clay-like bounce and/but we had a very good game on that surface, so we resolved to return the next morning, weather permitting.
After a light, late lunch of bread and prawn cocktail, we enjoyed the rest of the afternoon on the lovely, sunny terrace of our cottage. Then a restful evening in, enjoying our lasagne with salad and wine.
Thursday 16 May – Tennis, Coffee Shopping & Theatre
So taken had I been with the coffee I bought from Marcos (PNG Fire Dance from Monsoon Estates Coffee) I did some Googling and discovered that the company was a local importer/blender. I called them on the Thursday morning and they said that we could visit their place. I had booked a 10:00 tennis court so we agreed to visit Monsoon at 11:30.
We had another really good game of tennis. Glad I booked 10:00, as the threatened showers started soon after we finished playing – indeed while we were on our way to Monsoon.
Monsoon Anne
Anne and Chris at Monsoon were super friendly and helpful. We left with 3kg of coffee beans and the wherewithal to order more from them on-line once we need more.
Me, ready to make off with the stash
We stopped at Waitrose on the way back to get some cheeses and grapes for our lunch. We figured that those, plus some smoked mackerel we had procured on our first visit, would get us through this day.
A splendid late lunch of cheeses followed by some rest before the evening show made for a very enjoyable day. Plenty of time to get the salad ready for our post-show nosh too.
We saw The Buddha of Suburbia that night, which I have written up separately – click here or below:
A light supper on our return was just the ticket, as we didn’t get home until 10:00ish. It rounded off a great day very nicely.
Friday 17 May – Home Via Moreton Morrell & The Antelope Lighthorne
We said goodbye to our lovely little cottage in Stratford, setting off a little too early for our appointment at Moreton. We had ordered some more of Marco’s bread so stopped there on the way out of town, then went and had a quick look at the Welcombe Hills Obelisk/monument.
Been there, seen it, done it.
Then on to Moreton, where I was to partner Alastair this time, against the combined forces of Peter Mason and Bernie Spratt. For some reason Janie only shot video of this epic match. Fortunately for you, only a few seconds of “footage” survived.
The Moreton floor has been completely redone since my last visit. I found it hard to adjust to the new surface at first, but played reasonably well towards the end. The pairings worked well to make a good game.
The Antelope Lighthorne was a very pleasant country pub in which to take lunch and decompress after our efforts. Peter was unable to join us on this occasion but the four who remained, me, Janie, Alastair and Bernie, had a thoroughly enjoyable lunch.
An event-free drive home – how come I can drive 90+ minutes out of London without incident, while the London driving seems to be close to an incident or near miss every 90 seconds? – enabling us to unload and enjoy a relaxing Friday evening at home.
It had truly been a fun-packed and enjoyable break.
To round off our short break in Stratford, we had arranged to see The Buddha of Suburbia.
I read this novel “back in the day” and remember really wanting to like it and enjoying the subject matter yet not liking it all that much as a novel. I also recalled that it had been turned into a TV series “back then”, which I didn’t see but which I imagined might have been a better medium for the story than the novel.
Thus, all those months ago when we planned this trip, I told Janie that I fancied seeing this show and she needed little persuading.
We are so glad we chose it.
The Swan was an excellent setting for this production
We pretty much agree with the main points that flow from the reviews. On the whole we are not mad about long shows, but this seemed a breeze to us despite being close to three hours long (including the interval).
The 1970s look and soundscape was a trip down memory lane for us, much as it was for Hanif Kureishi I suppose. The main sentiment is joyous celebration of the era and coming of age, but there was plenty to think about too, in terms of the ugly aspects of that era, not least overt racism.
We sat in the front row, which got us caught up in the one small piece of audience participation in this show. That was mostly directed at Janie but also, in the end, also at me.
Maybe I shouldn’t have worn THAT shirt.
Still, we survived the experience and anyway Janie and I are used to people laughing at us.
At the time of writing there is as yet no sign of a West End transfer, but surely this wonderful piece will lend itself to a decent and successful run in The Big Smoke.
We saw a preview on our first night in Stratford-Upon-Avon. The next day, we went back for a talk and discussion with several of the creatives for this production.
Janie and I really enjoyed this play/production. We had just arrived in Stratford on a four-day short break and were quite tired that evening. Nevertheless this play held our attention throughout, making us smile., laugh and think in equal measure.
It is set in an “English As A Foreign Language” class in Karaj, Iran, c2008. A class of four, each with their own reason for wanting or needing to attend this class and gain a “Test-Of-English-As-A -Foreign-Language” certificate are taught by a hugely enthusiastic Iranian woman who loves the English language and tries to instil that enthusiasm in her variously enthusiastic, reluctant and/or cognitively-conflicted students.
A recipe for some interesting drama, which is exactly what we got.
As we saw one of the last previews, I suspect that little will have changed since we saw this production. Having said that, as we ascertained at the talk/discussion the next day, director Diyan Zoya is very hands-on in working with a cast to improve continuously throughout and beyond the preview period.
In the discussion, we saw and heard from not only Diyan Zoya but also Maria Tarokh (movement and cultural advisor) and Sara Amini (assistant director text and dialect). The discussion was led by Conrad Lynch, who has produced the show.
We thought the play and production excellent. Reviews have started to come out (he says, writing just a few days after the press night). This link is a search term that should find most or all of them. The reviews so far have been mixed, with Dominic Cavendish in The Telegraph not liking it a lot and Arifa Akbar in The Guardian slamming it. Yet it gets good or excellent reviews from Amya Ryan in the Times, Michael Davies in WhatsOnStage and Catherine Love in The Stage to name but three others.
Perhaps best to see it and judge for yourselves – Janie and I thought it was 90 minutes very well spent in the theatre.
It looked like such a good idea in the flyer months ago…
We love The Orange Tree Theatre and try to support as much as we can, especially when it gets around to promoting new writing on topics that interest us.
Lord’s, present day. It’s the Women’s Cricket World Cup: England versus India. There’s a rain delay. Tensions mount, ambitions are laid bare and a whole new tactical game begins. Calcutta in the eighteenth century. Two British administrators in colonial India encounter challenges on the field of play that threaten the entire regime.
In this game of integrity and power, past and present collide. Kate Attwell’s funny and provocative play explores and explodes the mythology of fair play.
You’ll also spot some good-looking summary reviews if you click that link, so might conclude that Janie and I are in a minority when we report that we both found this play and production a dud.
Heaven knows, I might sometimes look like a caricature of an MCC member trying to look young and hip at Lord’s…
The problems we had with TESTMATCH were many and varied. We thought the script repetitive, the jokes mostly unfunny and the important points, of which there were many, delivered without subtlety and often with counter-effective impact if impact at all.
In truth, the whole piece felt like an excuse to discuss a whole heap of very real issues around race, gender, commercial power and fair play, delivered like me trying to hit the cover off a cricket ball with a long-handled bat – i.e. terrible mishits such that they either missed the metaphorical ball completely or hit that metaphor up in the air for a dolly catch.
We are used to suspending belief for theatre, but the notion that such conversations and action could possibly take place in The Lord’s Pavilion during a rain interval in a major women’s international match shows ignorance of how professional the women’s game has become in the 20+ years since Janie and I started following international women’s cricket.
And don’t get me started on the notion that women cricketers might have been advocating roundarm and/or overarm bowling at the time of the Great Bengal famine.
It was hard to tell whether the cast was limited by ability, the script or some eccentric directing, but the style of delivery came across to us as more like “try hard am-dram” than professional performance.
But heck, if you are considering seeing this play, you should read the theatre reviews, which I hadn’t read before writing the above. On the whole, they support our criticisms, but come down far more favourably on this production than we did. Click here for links to reviews.
For me, the highlight of the evening was getting to bowl at one of the performers a couple of times at the end of the interval. Had I realised it was supposed to be 1770, I’d have bowled underarm. And had I realised that my 20-30 mph dobblers would seem fast in the restricted space of The Orange Tree, I’d have tried to bowl even slower than usual.
Is it possible to bowl slower than this?
A member of the audience even praised my bowling as we left. A gentleman who is easily pleased, he might well have also enjoyed the play.
It is a simple story about a trio of 50-something fellas who were a band when they were college age, returning to the scene of their exploits in Ibiza 30 years later.
Neil D’Souza not only wrote the play but also plays one of the lead parts, very convincingly – actually all of the actors do so: Catrin Aaron, Kerry Bennett, Peter Bramhill and James Hillier being the other four. Alice Hamilton does a grand job from the director’s chair.
The play is a comedy but it has a thoughtful and edgy twist to it too. In particular, the second half starts off full of fun and laughs, but soon “bloke meets woke” in a rather shocking way, changing the tone and bringing the story home in a nuanced way.
We really like comedies that have enough going on that we still have stuff to talk about over a meal or two afterwards. This is one of those.
There’s something gloriously quaint about the Finborough Theatre. Even by the standards of pub theatres, it seems gloriously wedded to the past.
In part, that’s because The Finborough is, at least at present, a few rooms above a corner building that used to be a pub, rather than an actual functioning pub.
But also, it is the sort of place that clings to its roots, even in the matter of archaic ticketing practices. These days we receive, when booking The Finborough, a very modern style e-mail ticketing with a QR code for each e-ticket. On arrival at The Finborough, though, the ticket office still asks for your name and digs out the old-style paper tickets, just like the old days.
Don’t you have a gadget that goes beep and reads our e-tickets?
I asked the nice young woman on the desk.
Do we look like the sort of place that has a gadget that goes beep to read tickets?
She asked in repsonse.
Not really. Except that you did send us -tickets with QR codes on them.
I persisted.
We have no idea why they do that.
The nice young woman thus closed that discussion.
Anyway…
…the reason we go to the Finborough is not to admire the ticketing system. We tend to see consistently good small-scale theatre there.
Jab was no exception. A very good two-hander set during the Covid-19 pandemic, about a marriage that disintegrates during the crisis…although you sense that the marriage had been doing a fair bit of disintegrating prior to the pandemic.
Very well acted and directed. Kacey Ainsworth, Liam Tobin & Scott Le Crass take a bow…well, the first two named actually did.
Just 80 minutes long, if you like your shows two hours plus this type of play is not for you. Janie and I have really acquired the taste for shorter plays. Never mind the young folk having short attention spans, we older folk have short buttocks-stuck-in-one-small-space spans these days.
We went home thoroughly satisfied, theatre-wise. After collecting and then, once home, eating our Mohsen dinner, our appetites for food were also thoroughly satisfied.
Our first visit to the theatre of 2024 and it was worth the wait.
Set in an NHS mental health service unit for juveniles, the play tells the simple story of a youngster who enters the workplace imagining that he might make a difference in a hurry.
Then reality bites.
The play is beautifully written by Sophia Chetin-Leuner, and very well directed by Ed Madden, who should, if nothing else, pick up a nominative determinism award for directing this particular piece.
Despite the plethora of short scenes, the story and characterisation develop organically and clearly over the 90 minutes or so of the piece. I had to suspend a fair bit of belief around the central conceit that a youngster might implement an NHS patient administration system alone in just a few weeks without encountering or causing any profound issues, but that only proves that I have spent too much of my working life thinking about informatics.
The cast all performed their parts convincingly, with top marks to Debra Baker who played the “seen it all before administrator” Angela.
Denzel Baidoo was the most comedic of the three, playing the naïve trainee Jay. One short scene, set to music, when Jay thinks he is alone in the office will live long in our memories.
If you are reading this piece soon after I have upped it, you have a chance still to see this production at The Bush, as it has been extended to 7 March. In Janie’s and my opinion, it deserves a transfer to gain a wider audience. It is a fun piece that made us both laugh a lot, but it also tackles a great many pertinent issues of our times in a thoughtful and warm-hearted way.
