Skip to main content

Posts

This House

Festival Theatre, Edinburgh Four stars Five years is a long time in politics just as it is in the theatre. When James Graham’s epic reimagining of one of the most pivotal eras in late twentieth century British democracy first appeared in 2012, its depiction of the aftermath of the 1974 hung parliament in Westminster chimed with a then current coalition. Half a decade and a couple of referendums on, Graham’s dramatic whizz through to 1979’s successful vote of no confidence in the Labour government now looks like a warning. Jeremy Herrin and Jonathan O’Boyle’s touring revival of a production first seen at the National Theatre begins with both sides of the House marching en masse in their grey suits and twin-sets down the aisles of the auditorium before cutting a well-choreographed rug in formation. As the Labour and Tory whips mark out their territory away from the chamber, this proves to be one of the few moments of unity in a breathless yarn that picks at the old-school gent

James Graham – This House

Westminster is in crisis. A minority government is in disarray, and with the country feeling the brunt of the political fall-out, don’t look like being in office for long. If such a scenario sounds too close for comfort just now, bear in mind that it is a description of the real-life plot to This House, James Graham’s history-based play, which was first seen at the National Theatre in London in 2012, and which arrives in Edinburgh tonight as part of its current UK tour. This House isn’t about now, although it might as well be. Historically, however, Graham’s play is set between 1974 and 1979, from the UK General Election that saw a hung parliament under Labour Party leader Harold Wilson, to the vote of no confidence in Wilson’s successor James Callaghan. It was the latter event which effectively ushered in Margaret Thatcher’s landslide first term victory, changing the landscape of British politics ever after. “I’d always wanted to understand the organisation of parliament and

Richard III

Perth Theatre Four stars When the newly crowned monarch gives the finger during his coronation, you know trouble ahead is guaranteed from a clown prince gone dangerously off-message. This is exactly what happens in the second half of Lu Kemp’s youthful-looking production of Shakespeare’s most out-there history play. And when Joseph Arkley’s Richard raises his be-gloved digit from the throne he’s been craving since t he beginning, i t’s a punchline of sorts to every shaggy dog story he’s set up before then. Arkley’s Richard cuts a lanky and malevolent dash from the off. Sporting military great-coat and a sneer, he never over-plays his opening ‘Now is the winter of our discontent’ speech, an easy to parody routine too often laced with hysterical verbal and physical tics. Arkley’s approach is more subtle, setting the tone for a quasi-contemporary reading of the play with a manner that moves between Jack Whitehall style goofiness and the deadly gallows humour of Dave Allen.

Winter Solstice

Traverse Theatre, Edinburgh Four stars For some reason, both The Sound of Music and Mike Leigh spring to mind watching this touring revival of German writer Roland Schimmelpfennig’s play, told via David Tushingham’s deft English translation in co-production between Actors Touring Company and the Orange Tree, Richmond. If the Christmas Eve dinner party round at Bettina and Albert’s arty liberal des-res recalls the latter, the slow-burning malevolence of a pound-shop fascist called Rudolph quietly cuckooing his way into the nest very much evokes the former. Rudolph was invited by Bettina’s infuriating mother Corrina, and is both unerringly polite and charmingly eccentric. By the end of the night, however, the world has been quietly turned upside down. This is how the rise of the new right happens, according to Schimmelpfennig; not with a bang, but with an after-dinner Chopin recitation and some carefully loaded references to a new world order, degenerate art and sticking t