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Posts Tagged ‘Clare Skinner’

I saw the three previous Barney Norris plays at the Arcola and the Bush, in their smaller spaces, so I was wondering if his unique brand of wistful, poignant charm would survive scaling up to a big London theatre like the Bridge. Half-way through I wasn’t convinced, but by the end I was.

We’re back in rural south England, this time a Hampshire farm. The two years since her husband’s illness and subsequent death have been a struggle for Jenny, her son Ryan, daughter Lou and her boyfriend / Ryan’s best friend Pete. Ryan and Pete were involved in a drunken incident which resulted in Pete’s imprisonment and his split from Lou. The farm, which Ryan is somewhat reluctantly continuing to run, is deep in debt. Ryan and Pete have taken a huge risk by siphoning oil from the pipeline running through the farm (a touch implausibly, I thought). They’re all grieving in different ways.

A hell of a lot more happens in the second half where we see the games people play. We learn that Jenny and Ryan knew more about Pete’s fate than was thought. Lou and Pete rekindle their relationship. Jenny struggles to keep the family together and some of her tactics backfire. We begin to wonder if Ryan’s friendship with Pete, for him, is more than it seems. Lou and Pete make plans to leave and Ryan seeks to persuade his mother to sell up. In the end, the family saga and rural decline come to a rather sad conclusion.

Rae Smith’s design manages to evoke the countryside without losing the intimacy of the individual scenes in yet another different use of the new Bridge space. In thirty-five years of London theatre-going, its the first time I’ve seen a pipeline and actual brick-laying live on stage! All four performances – Claire Skinner as mum, Sion Daniel Young as Ryan, Ophelia Lovibond as Lou and Ukweli Roach as Pete – are excellent. Laurie Sansom’s staging is as fine as we’ve come to expect from him.

Despite an unevenness between the two halves, Norris just about survives the scale-up. To be recommended.

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A play about dementia. Depressing? Well, yes – as people get older, it’s often their greatest fear, more so than any physical condition – but its also insightful and not as heavy as you might think.

What’s so clever about Florian Zeller’s play, translated by Christopher Hampton, is that by messing with your head you get to peep inside the head of the demetia sufferer and it helps you understand what it must be like to experience this condition. It starts very straightforwardly, but soon becomes disorientating. Andre’s daughter Anne may or may not have a husband, may or may not be moving to London, may or may not have a sister. Our confusion parallels Andre’s confusion and we begin to understand, and dread, his predicament.

In a series of short, sharp scenes we see the condition deteriorate through the eyes of its victim. Characters and their back stories change and the room in which it is set changes as he moves home. It’s a very original way of conveying the agony of the condition for both the sufferer and their family. The final scene when Andre is in a rest home is devastating. It’s beautifully written / translated, with every moment contributing to the story and it’s extraordinary how much understanding you accumulate in less than 90 minutes. There is humour as well as frustration and sadness to lighten the tone without disrespect.

James McDonald’s direction is very sympathetic to the subject matter, as are the six excellent performances. As Andre, Kenneth Cranham navigates the decline very delicately and movingly. Clare Skinner gives a nuanced performance as Anne, full of love for her father whilst struggling to balance the demands of caring with her need to live her own life.

A subject rarely spoken of is given a thoughtful and illuminating presentation, something sometimes only theatre can so.

 

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This takes Kat Banyard’s book Equality Illusion as it’s starting point and it’s title is a swipe at Robin Thicke’s sexist, misogynistic song of the same name. I hadn’t read the book or heard the song, but I’m glad I went to see this.

Eight excellent actresses, including Clare Skinner, Ruth Sheen, Sinead Matthews & Byrony Hannah, perform on an unfeasibly steep and high white staircase. They start by listing stereotypical descriptions of woman that you often hear in the media and move on to show typical scenes of sexism, misogyny and objectification of women in film & TV, advertising, fashion, music…..well, in the modern world really. It’s a smorgasbord of scenes and soundbites which add up to a stimulating, challenging and thought-provoking 75 minutes.

You might have expected it to be preachy or heavy, but it’s entertainingly presented, which makes it all the more powerful. There are some lovely moments which use humour to make a point, and others which have you squirming in disgust. I consider myself a feminist, but even I began to question some of my attitudes. It’s a clever way to present the issues and does so with as much attitude as the attitudes it challenges.

The text is by playwright Nick Payne (a man and a feminist), the design (the scale of which surprises you as soon as you enter The Shed) by Bunny Christie and the inventive staging by Carrie Cracknell. It helps to have such a fine cast (who have also shaped the piece). In adition to the four I’ve already mentioned, there’s Susannah Wise, Lorna Brown, Michaela Coel (who adds her poetry) and Marion Bailey, who’s turn as a male theatre director brings the house down whilst underlining the point brilliantly.

It seems to me this is what The Shed set out to do – present something different and challenging – and it succeeds in doing so.

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