Review: Waiting For Godot

Sir Ian McKellen and Roger Rees

Waiting For Godot is a difficult play to comprehend. Written by the profound writer Samuel Beckett, it depicts two men at a side of a road waiting for a man called Godot. They can not go anywhere, for of course they are waiting for Godot. They ponder their existence, they question life and the daily struggles of the nothing of their lives. Essentially nothing happens in Waiting For Godot, yet the play is so rich with imagery, foolery and thought provoking comments that you need not dig deep to understand Becketts slightly absurd play.

This production has returned from its sell out run at the Theatre Royal Haymarket back in 2009, with a slight cast change. I wasn’t fortunate to get to catch it with the formidable duo of Ian McKellen and Patrick Stewart but we are blessed with McKellen returning to the play and joined by Roger Rees (let’s not forget the cast now boasts Matthew Kelly too).

Whilst the play states that the action takes place at the side of a row beneath a tree, the design by Stephen Brimson Lewis transports the action inside a derelict theatre with the tree bursting out of the floor boards. It is imaginatively designed and reflects in the absurd writing of Beckett whilst portraying a sense of age and decay that the characters themselves show.

Sean Mathias direction of the play is deeply enjoyable, playing upon the strengths of his actors to deliver an impeccable performance. Mathias picks upon McKellens foolery of comedic timing and delivery to keep a light hearted approach to the Beckett classic. This allows for Rees to be the more grounded character out of the two, yet their ability to play off each other and sending the audience in tight circles of repetition through the lines creates a surreal experience.

Ian McKellen as Estragon

There is no doubting McKellens acting, he is back in full force and showing what a man of 70 can bring to the theatre. He is witty, hilariously funny and equally deeply emotional. We can’t help but to pity him as the character of Estragon, where he portrays a figure who appears to be slipping into dementia whilst clinging onto his comedic side. McKellen is the star for the performance, outshining his age and proving he deserves the critical acclaim over the years.

Whilst Waiting For Godot is an enjoyable night for any Beckett and theatre fan, there are flaws in this production which holds it back. Paul Pyant’s lighting design does nothing for the play and at times becomes a distraction, something any lighting designer should not be doing, – the text itself is often hard to follow without bad lighting.

Matthew Kelly is a bit of a sore thumb in this production. He lacks the raw connection that Rees and McKellen have in their character, their sense that all is not what it seems. Kelly has a rounded character that jars against the action, maybe it is a classic case of me not liking him as Pozzo, or just him as a person. Whatever the cause of my dislike it didn’t take away from the production, but more something to be considered. If anything Kelly is an interesting choice for Mathias to take in casting.

Waiting For Godot is a hard text, but when directed with the right cast the outcome can be astonishing. Whilst Mathias production didn’t leave me dumbfounded it certainly proved entertaining. Catch the performance if you want to get lost in a rambling text of waiting for an elusive character called Godot. (Nice to see that Mathias doesn’t make out of the character of Godot as a reglious ‘godlike’ character as I’ve often seen him as).

Waiting For Godot is playing at the Theatre Royal Haymarket until 3rd April 2010. Tickets available through the official website.

Review: My Stories, Your Emails

Ursula Martinez is an internet phenomena, after her magic striptease act got leaked onto the internet. Her magic consists of a single red hanky, that vanishes before the audiences eyes. The twist is she repeats this trick between interludes of stripping. The finale is Martinez completely naked, and still managing to vanish the red hanky… but can anyone guess where she pulls it out of? Don’t imagine too hard, there really isn’t many places to hide it…

In My Stories, Your Emails, Martinez tells the audience what happened after the act got leaked onto the internet. She woke to find hundreds of emails from all over the world from people who had seen the video. Hundreds turned to thousands, and the responses she receives aren’t always the most pleasant of experiences to read. This led to her one woman show performing at the Barbican Theatre as part of the Bite 10 Festival.

My Stories, Your Emails is split into two halfs, the first, stories from Martinez own life, these are the representation of herself from her own point of view. They feature what family have said to her, things she remembers, essentially those stories that we all have inside of us.

The middle of the show consists of the infamous video that brought about the fan emails and the show.

Lastly we are taken into Martinez’ world of fan emails, from the bizarre, the charming, and the down right disgusting.

Martinez has a direct approach to the piece, her bluntness is cutting but hilariously funny. Her stories are comedic snapshots of her life, moments from her Spanish mother, her sister, her father, and most importantly from herself. They offer an insight into her world before the show on the internet. At times it is not Martinez’s stories that are funny but her reaction between them. Staring blankly out to the audience – her expression reads “What the F**k?” again, and again.

Your Emails part of the performance gives a glimpse into the disgusting attraction of men and their sexual desires towards her. Included with these emails are photos of the writers. The responses to her act, are nearly all described in a sexual manner. They portray her act as a sexual, nudity, magic act. Whilst for the best part these emails are disturbingly funny, there is a harrowing message that we take from it:

The portrayal of an ‘ordinary person’, Martinez, who happens to do a magician act whilst stripping doesn’t mean she should be placed in line of sexual forwards by men. Repeatedly the emails from fans ask to meet her, discuss fantasies and propose marriage to her.

The world of the internet has a seedy, and disturbing side that Martinez’s inbox has to endure.

My Stories, Your Emails, is a witty and funny piece for the audience. She equally blends a stand up routine, with her ‘performance’ to create an entertaining night at the Barbican. Oh and those of you who are wanting to perv on Martinez, fear not – she even gets naked at the end.

My Stories, Your Emails is running at the Barbican Pit Theatre as part of the Bite 10 Festival until 13th February, booking via their website

Twespians – A Revolution?

Take one part theatre, and one part twitter. What is the outcome? Twespians.

Last night I was lucky enough to be part of a mini revolution in the way that I communicate with people in theatre, by taking part in a TweetUp. The idea of a tweetup is essentially a group of Twitter users meet at a set location and time to mingle, talk and have a good few drinks. Twespians is the theatre version.

I’ll be open and admit that the effect that Twitter has had upon my life is quite strong. It’s allowed me to express a huge passion I have with other equally passionate people. It has scored me tickets for shows, and equally kept me up to date with the latest theatre news and gossip. Andrew Llyod Webber has cancer? Through Twitter. Peter Brook as part of the new Bite Festival. Twitter. Too Close To The Sun, the biggest flop to hit west end … Twitter. What about the Donmar’s bad attempt at recycling old brochures? Reported through TwitPic, and Twitter.

Twitter has allowed me to connect with people from all over the world, who share the same drive and passion that I have. It’s a slow process, that develops over the course of many months. Conversation is brief but to the point, with only 140 characters there is no waffling allowed. Strictly a ‘to the point’ matter.

Whilst all of this is great for communicating over the internet, what happens when you bring these people together in the real world? Twespians answered this questionl last night, by organising a TweetUp as part of Social Media Week.

Upon arrival you are given a name badge to which you fill in your username and favourite show. You get yourself a drink at the bar, and then you begin to talk to people. The course of the night is extremely varied, depending on who you talk with. There are several people who I’ve met off Twitter to see various shows with before, yet equally there are those who I’ve solely spoken to through 140 characters at a time.

The night was absurd, surreal and brilliant all at once.

To have in one room, such a mix of people from all forms of theatre interests and jobs – talking together is remarkable. From journalists, bloggers, actors, directors, students, social media artists, administrators, marketers and facilitators. You almost have to take a moment to take in what is actually happening around you.

If Twitter is to be integrated more into the theatre industry then it is through an event such as Twespians TweetUp that we can begin to break down these boundaries of theatre roles, and begin to work towards something greater. What that is I don’t know. Networkings, Jobs, Drinking Buddies… well… the possibilities are too vast to list.

One thing that did strike me though is the possibilities of such an event. A group of students from Queen Mary’s University studying Drama and Physical Theatre joined the event. Hearing their passion for an industry they are desperate to be in is inspiring, yet equally their craving for information and advice from people already working or performing showed how useful such an event can be to people.

People can laugh at the way in which people engage with the internet and social media, but there is no denying the power and potential it has. If you can write an opera through twitter and produce full length twitter plays – what can you do with it?

Interested in Twespians? Check out of the website and twitter account for more information. The next Twespians TweetUp will be announced shortly, so stayed tuned.

Review: Trilogy

Trilogy is not an easy piece to digest. It is however the most liberating and exhilarating piece I have ever witnessed in my life.

As a man watching a piece about women and feminism I struggle to have the depth and understand that I should. As a gay man however, I understand the struggling against the freedom of who you are and the under appreciation you can get for being that person. I understand the feeling of being lost in a wave of oppression and feeling as if I don’t belong – no identity. This I guess, became my appreciation for Trilogy, that whilst I am not a woman, I have an understanding of what the piece stands for.

Trilogy is a post-modern, feminist, part dance, part video, part physical theatre, part audience participation, part liberation movement for woman. It’s a lot to throw into a single piece, especially over two hours, yet somehow Nic Green as director has done so in such a manner that the piece slips through the three parts (hence the title Trilogy) effortlessly.

What makes Trilogy so special, or rather what makes it so inspiring – so talked about, has to be the nudity. There is no way of avoiding it. It’s used in not a shock factor, nor a sexual expression of freedom, it is used in its purest form, that underneath all the clothes we are all the same – all naked, all women. (Unless of course, you are a man, then you are a naked man)

The Barbican stage is full of woman, all shapes and sizes, all naked, all moving in synchronised movement. There are bits and pieces bouncing up and down, there are woman screaming with joy and chanting. There are around 100-120 women bearing all – it is a sight that I will never witness again, but for those 7 minutes – I am in a state of shock. This is crazy, I tell myself. I can’t quite believe it… the Barbican stage is literally a mass of moving naked bodies.

End of Part One.

The audience erupts into spontaneous laughter and discussion – there is an energy in the theatre which I’ve never felt before. A sense of unison in saying that we just saw something that is mind blowing.

The rest of Trilogy combines a mixture of dance movements, with video projects from a feminist discussion back in the 60’s – to directly addressing the audience and challenging them to create their own female stories, or rather herstories. It’s clear that whilst this piece is about standing up and believing in being who you are, it is also clearly not a protest or overhauling what is in place – it is about expressing a desire for women to be shown more, to be appreciated more.

Trilogy is funny, witty, clever and has a heart felt message.

Possibly one of the most important things I take from Trilogy is the impact it had upon the audience. The ending of the show culminates in Green inviting members of the audience (female only) to come up onto the stage and bare all whilst we all sing Jerusalem. On the night I was there some 50 audiences members, maybe more, bounded up to the stage to take part.

These aren’t company members, they aren’t friends or family members of the cast – these are real women, who feel overwhelmed by the performance. They too become part of the story.

Have I ever seen a performance that has empowered the audience so much that they felt compelled to get naked in front of a huge auditorium on a sold out night? No. Will I ever see a performance like this again? I doubt it. – So let’s celebrate with what Trilogy does.

It gives hope, it gives excitement, freedom, liberation, and most of all, it gives a thoroughly entertaining night.

Never has a standing ovation been so justified.

Trilogy is now on tour around the UK, be sure to look out for it. This performance was part of the Barbican’s Bite 10.

Review: Kefar Nahum

There is complete darkness in The Pit Theatre at the Barbican. A strange and alluring soundscape fills the dark. Then somewhere ahead in this darkness, shapes emerge. A caterpillar, an old man, a plume of smoke drifting upwards. In fact, it is just a white sheet being manipulated in the darkness. My imagination is at work here, and I honestly believe that this sheet is the form of two characters sitting on a wall, their dialogue echoed in the atmospheric sounds behind.

This is the work of Belgium based Compagnie Mossoux-Bonté the collaboration between Nicole Mossoux and Patrick Bonté. Their work fuses together the crossroads of theatre and dance, but in Kefar Nahum they explore the manipulation of objects through puppetry and animation.

Kefar Nahum is a dark piece blending the creation of life in objects and material to their destruction through violence of objects. Another feature at the Barbican Theatre in association with the International Mime Festival

It is quite astonishing the way in which the mind works during this performance. It is not that the material is questioning something deep or philosophical but rather our imagination suddenly engages and gets to work. As the object manipulation takes place, narratives are formed – but not through dialogue but through voices inside the mind. There might be a watering can being moved on the stage, but to me, this is the last of the great birds of the south, finding it all rather surprising to come across another person – in this case, the puppeteer.

Whilst Kefar Nahum is a great stimulation of the mind, the ever changing scenes, the fluttering of moments between objects and narratives leaves little for through lines, and fails to completely engage me as an audience member.

Perhaps we’re not even meant to connect with the piece, for other than the puppeteer herself, everything else used are nothing more than inanimate objects, scattered items that have to be brought to life. How can we connect with something that once hands move away from it, they fall off the front of the stage onto the floor – as is the case throughout the whole performance.

If anything this makes me wonder if the piece is for an exclusive audience, and how accessible it is for a larger audience. Whilst there is no narration, and the language is formed through the movement of objects, this object manipulation isn’t for everyone. Unless you’re willing to get lost in shapes and forms that appear in the curves and folds of fabric or disused objects you won’t find much in Kefar Nahum.

It is a shame that once again we have a sinister puppetry show for adults – where are all the simple adult puppetry that don’t deal with the themes of violence and manipulation of being?

Kefar Nahum is part of the International Mime Festival and also part of the Bite 10 Festival at the Barbican Centre. The show finishes on the 23rd January 2010.