Last Friday I went to see The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie at the Donmar Warehouse. I'd been sitting on these tickets since April, having sat patiently in a queue online (online queues meaning that you can be as shouty as you want when it's moving slowly, because there's no one about to judge you. Unless you're doing it sneakily at work of course).
Anyway - I was excited. I'd been excited ever since it had been announced, which had coincided with my seeing Lia Williams in Mary Stuart for the second time (in the title role - I played coin toss roulette and won) and therefore felt like all the theatrical fates were aligning. There was no way in all possibility that I was going to miss this performance.
I am very familiar with The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie. I've read the book (although I don't remember many of my thoughts on it. It's been a while) and I've seen the Maggie Smith version of the film. Maggie Smith has been burned on my conciousness from an early age, as her delivery of the iconic lines. I knew it would be a challenge for this production to live up to that seminal production. I also knew that if anyone could do it, then a cast helmed by Lia Williams, Angus Wright and Sylvestra Le Touzel, directed by Polly Findlay would be the team to see off the ghosts of the past.
And I was right. Helped, in part, by the new adaptation by David Harrower, fresh life was breathed into this oh so familiar piece. admittedly my mind kept snagging on plot points which had been transferred from one character to another, and the placement of lines. Those bon mots so iconic were liberally scattered about in all manner of places. One - which I am quite sure was said at the beginning of the film - didn't even get a first prenouncement until halfway through. It was deliciously unsettling.
And how right I was to think Lia Williams would do the role justice. She was magnificent. Cool, passionate, disinterested, fervent, broken, warrior-like, turning on a pinhead so you were never quite sure which facet of her diamond like personality you would get next. The play goes further than the film, so that you see Miss Brodie in later life. Her final scene she is sitting for most of it, some brilliant red shoes flashing out at the audience, as if to say 'I'm not quite done yet'. Thinking about those shoes on the way home, I fell to wondering and have come to the conclusion that the costume department are geniuses.
Miss Brodie has three costume changes as the play progresses, and has different shoes for each outfit. Fantastically spiky red heels to start give way to a lower heeled red and beige court shoe, before finally another red pair of shoes, which I think were flatter, but which I couldn't quite see all of. I'm going to assume they were lower. It occurred to me as I wound my way home that Miss Brodie's shoes are a counter to her position within the school she seeks to dominate. As her position becomes more precarious and her hold on her 'gels' and the men in her life more nebulous, her shoes become lower, which should (by rights) steady her. They should allow her to retain her grip on events, to shape them as she wishes. But they don't. Instead she becomes less able to walk the path set before her. It is an inspired addition to the character, who at the beginning of the play dashes about in a whirl of fervent inspiration and excitement on stilettos that might break another's neck, and by the end is brought to a standstill by events, until ultimately she topples, wearing the safe footwear of the aged and infirm.
The rest of the cast all moved about the Brodie orbit with aplomb. Sandy has fascinated me for quite a while, but I saw another side to her in this. There was a vulnerability I don't think has been picked up on in the past. It's well hidden though. Sandy has steel running through her. I don't want to comment too heavily on all of the cast - this is after all not the work of a critic, simply the enthusiastic thoughts of an avid theatre goer. Simply put, I thought the entire cast were wonderful (although I'm still working hard to determine Teddy Lloyd's exact accent!)
Tickets are as rare as hen's teeth, but it's worth trying to get one. A play this light and deep simultaneously doesn't come along all that often. The Donmar is a powerhouse that allows 251 people into its confines each night and surprises them with something fresh every time.
Anyway - I was excited. I'd been excited ever since it had been announced, which had coincided with my seeing Lia Williams in Mary Stuart for the second time (in the title role - I played coin toss roulette and won) and therefore felt like all the theatrical fates were aligning. There was no way in all possibility that I was going to miss this performance.
I am very familiar with The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie. I've read the book (although I don't remember many of my thoughts on it. It's been a while) and I've seen the Maggie Smith version of the film. Maggie Smith has been burned on my conciousness from an early age, as her delivery of the iconic lines. I knew it would be a challenge for this production to live up to that seminal production. I also knew that if anyone could do it, then a cast helmed by Lia Williams, Angus Wright and Sylvestra Le Touzel, directed by Polly Findlay would be the team to see off the ghosts of the past.
And I was right. Helped, in part, by the new adaptation by David Harrower, fresh life was breathed into this oh so familiar piece. admittedly my mind kept snagging on plot points which had been transferred from one character to another, and the placement of lines. Those bon mots so iconic were liberally scattered about in all manner of places. One - which I am quite sure was said at the beginning of the film - didn't even get a first prenouncement until halfway through. It was deliciously unsettling.
And how right I was to think Lia Williams would do the role justice. She was magnificent. Cool, passionate, disinterested, fervent, broken, warrior-like, turning on a pinhead so you were never quite sure which facet of her diamond like personality you would get next. The play goes further than the film, so that you see Miss Brodie in later life. Her final scene she is sitting for most of it, some brilliant red shoes flashing out at the audience, as if to say 'I'm not quite done yet'. Thinking about those shoes on the way home, I fell to wondering and have come to the conclusion that the costume department are geniuses.
Miss Brodie has three costume changes as the play progresses, and has different shoes for each outfit. Fantastically spiky red heels to start give way to a lower heeled red and beige court shoe, before finally another red pair of shoes, which I think were flatter, but which I couldn't quite see all of. I'm going to assume they were lower. It occurred to me as I wound my way home that Miss Brodie's shoes are a counter to her position within the school she seeks to dominate. As her position becomes more precarious and her hold on her 'gels' and the men in her life more nebulous, her shoes become lower, which should (by rights) steady her. They should allow her to retain her grip on events, to shape them as she wishes. But they don't. Instead she becomes less able to walk the path set before her. It is an inspired addition to the character, who at the beginning of the play dashes about in a whirl of fervent inspiration and excitement on stilettos that might break another's neck, and by the end is brought to a standstill by events, until ultimately she topples, wearing the safe footwear of the aged and infirm.
The rest of the cast all moved about the Brodie orbit with aplomb. Sandy has fascinated me for quite a while, but I saw another side to her in this. There was a vulnerability I don't think has been picked up on in the past. It's well hidden though. Sandy has steel running through her. I don't want to comment too heavily on all of the cast - this is after all not the work of a critic, simply the enthusiastic thoughts of an avid theatre goer. Simply put, I thought the entire cast were wonderful (although I'm still working hard to determine Teddy Lloyd's exact accent!)
Tickets are as rare as hen's teeth, but it's worth trying to get one. A play this light and deep simultaneously doesn't come along all that often. The Donmar is a powerhouse that allows 251 people into its confines each night and surprises them with something fresh every time.
