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Posts Tagged ‘Anna Watson’

American playwright Branden Jacobs-Jenkins continues to impress, with this play the best of the three we’ve seen here. I’m vey fond of family dramas and American playwrights gave us the best in the 20th Century, from Eugene ONeill through Tennessee Williams and Arthur Miller to Sam Shepherd. Now Jacobs-Jenkins gives us a contemporary one.

It’s set in an Arkansas plantation home where the head of the Lafayette family has recently died. His children, Toni, Bo and Frank, Bo’s wife Rachel, Frank’s girlfriend River, Toni’s son Rhys and Bo & Rachel’s children Cassidy and Ainsley have come for the auction of the house and sale of its contents. Their dad was a hoarder, so they first have to attempt to declutter and in doing so come across some photos which, if they are their dad’s, mean he wasn’t the man they thought he was.

Bo is a seemingly successful businessman who has apparently been financing his father’s final years, Toni is a single mother who’s been providing more practical support. Frank, now called Franz, is the black sheep, last to leave home and the longest to be dependent on their father, with a history of drink, drugs and worse. No-one knew where he was for many years until now. He’s under the spell of new age River and has ostensibly come to ask for forgiveness. Emotions run high, a whole load of skeletons leave cupboards and secrets and lies run amok. There’s even an air of a ghostly presence.

It’s superbly written and expertly plotted, with crackling dialogue. Ola Ince’s production is edgy and atmospheric, with loud sudden scene breaks that I found heightened the tension, though others jumped and / or were irritated by them. Fly Davis’ faded mansion is superb; the stage management deserve an award for decluttering it in the interval. Anna Watson’s excellent lighting and Donato Wharton’s atmospheric sound design play a key role. The diverse siblings are superbly characterised by Steven Mackintosh, Edward Hogg and especially Monica Dolan with another of her star turns. The rest of the ensemble is outstanding.

A great evening of drama from a playwright who, at only 34, the same age as Tennessee Williams was when A Doll’s House hit Broadway, has already delivered six plays, and based on the three we’ve seen is clearly going to have a monumental career The only remaining questions are – when will we see the other three and what’s next?

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Playwright Rory Mullarkey seems to be very skilled at persuading the artistic directors of some of our high profile theatres to stage his work. If only he was as good at turning his interesting ideas into good plays. The Wolf From The Door was put on Upstairs, his adaptation of The Orestia was staged at Shakespeare’s Globe and Saint George & the Dragon found its way onto the Olivier stage at the National; all of them, like this, half-baked. Where are the dramaturges, literary managers and artistic directors when you need them?

An unemployed man kills time in the market square of a provincial town where a department store employee, on her day off, is showing round her her visiting dad. They decide to marry. The town is hit by multiple bombs, gunfire and lightning. This escalates to war between the ‘red’ and the ‘blue’ sides and before you know it it’s gone global. Cue cannibalism, a plague and an earthquake. All in one day. Sadly, the members of the Fulham Brass Band, who had been entertaining us since before it started, had gone home by 8pm.

They’ve thrown a lot of kitchen sinks into the production, and Chloe Lamford’s ‘design’, Anna Watson’s lighting and a lot of music, dancing and special effects add up to something spectacular. Let’s just say you’re unlikely to dose off. It doesn’t stop boredom though, and doesn’t paper over the lack of a coherent narrative. It feels like a whole load of ideas have thrown up on the Royal Court stage to create an anarchic mess. I thought it was dull. The nine performers, technical team and stage management work really hard.

I couldn’t help thinking how many budding playwrights are being kept of our high profile stages by something that frankly doesn’t deserve to be on them. The title seems to encapsulate it. Yet another disappointing evening at the Royal Court.

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