Reflections on the Prime of Miss Jean Brodie

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.

Judi Dench ... as Titania?

Yes, you did read that title right. Judi Dench is currently in Kingston upon Thames, playing the queen of the faeries in A Midsummer Night's Dream.

An unusual choice, given her age, but perhaps is explained by the fact she is directed by Sir Peter Hall, who directed her in the role forty years ago.

So there I was, at the Rose, sat on the floor (telling sad stories of the death of kings). To explain away the age 'problem', the play started with a mime of the actors getting ready and being visited by Elizabeth I, who takes an interest in the script and seemingly decides that the only person to play Titania is her.

This production of AMND is perhaps the finest I have ever seen (including film versions). All the actors were wonderfully cast (the Mechanicals all had broad brummie accents, which suited them perfectly). Bottom was wonderful, with superb comic timing, and just the right amount of seriousness to make him completely ridiculous. The way he created expression with the Asses' head was a joy to watch, and had me in stitches more than once.

The lovers were very good too - particularly in the later scenes when everything is going wrong and they are near killing each other. And Oberon, as the engineer of all this mayhem was cool and collected, barely taking any notice of Puck's gambolling.

In short, this worked so well, that I wish more directors would take the chance on casting older actresses for these seeming 'young' roles. After all, the Bristol Old Vic is currently staging a geriatric version of Romeo and Juliet, which sounds wonderful!

I've just time to give my apologies for not being around the past few weeks (internet has come to the house, I've just not had time to post!), and now, fair people of the blogosphere, I am off to the other side of the world, to hunt for Hobbits and Lions named Aslan .... in short, I am off to New Zealand.
I will post extensively when I get back, and will no doubt have many pictures to share with you all.

Now all I have to worry about is whether I'm taking too many books!

Turned on to Brecht

POW!

So sorry - that was the sound my mind made last night as Fiona Shaw blew it away with the sheer force of her performance.

So Bertolt Brecht - what do people think of him? I know what I thought before last night - heavy going, hard to get to grips with in a modern era. Boring. Why then, you would be entitled to ask, did I want to go and see 'Mother Courage and her Children'? Quite simply because it was Fiona Shaw in the title role, and Deborah Warner directing her (who has also directed her in 'Medea' (which I tragically missed) and the film of 'The Last September', which I adore.). I could put up with anything with that combination.

From the moment I sat down in my seat, however - which had members of the cast roaming around, and stage hands doing various things with ropes and other stuff - I knew I was in for a treat. Then it started. A few minutes into the first scene and Fiona Shaw rises from the depths of the stage, on top of her wagon, accompanied by a band. Duke Special to be precise. Actually - type Fiona Shaw into Youtube right now, and the first five entries or so are videos of her jamming with said band after the show in the foyer of the National. The band are fantastic, and there is something weirdly right about wanting to get up and dance around as Fiona Shaw flings herself across the stage.

Anyway - back to Mother Courage. I never knew Brecht could be funny, but he is, and in an oddly resonant way for the world today. Yes, he's writing about a war in Germany in the mid 1600s, but he could just as easily be writing for the war that's going on now. This production hits you full in the face with the brutality of war, there are explosions, and bursts of fire, and Mother Courage's wagon grows and shrinks as her business succeeds and fails (at one point there is a satellite dish strapped to it).

Fiona Shaw is hardly ever off stage. Even if she's not speaking, she's always doing something - plucking a chicken and making a right mess, being one of the most memorable pieces of business. The supporting cast are fantastic - Harry Melling plays her youngest son Swiss Cheese, and if the name rings a bell, it will be because you have seen him play Dudley Dursley. Not an obvious choice, one might think, but somebody get him more parts fast, because the guy is astonishingly good. Forget the golden Potter trio, Harry Melling might be the one to watch!

The thing about the play is that it is so blatantly opportunistic. Mother Courage changes sides with alarming ease (and loses a child in the process) but I never blamed her for it. That is what war is like, and if you're trying to make a living from an army, you're always going to end up with the winning side. Does Mother Courage win? the play ends abruptly. With all her children gone, and left to trail after a battered company, with her wagon at it's most broken and only herself to pull it, you'd be inclined to think she doesn't.

The whole experience is amazing. You're thrown into this messy world and never allowed a respite. If Fiona Shaw doesn't (and she's only off stage for about fifteen minutes out of a three hour production) the audience doesn't either. But however gruelling the content is, this production makes it rock.

The play's the thing!

Before I disappear into a heady euphoria at England winning the Ashes (and after seven hours in a pub watching today, I would've have been slightly displeased had they lost, or gone onto a fifth day) I had better tell you about my day in London yesterday, when I went to see Jude Law in 'Hamlet'.

I know it's not a natural thought process - "Jude Law in 'Hamlet'" doesn't trip off the tongue like "Rufus Sewell in 'Hamlet'" might (ooh, now there's a thought), but it intrigued me enough to force me to buy tickets. I've been to see the entire Donmar West End season, which started with Kenneth Branagh in 'Ivanov', followed with Derek Jacobi in 'Twelfth Night', continued with Judi Dench in 'Madame de Sade' and concluded with 'Hamlet'. At £10 for the cheapest seats, it was well worth it, and I've had some real treats. With 'Hamlet', the biggest draw for me was the fact that Kenneth Branagh was supposed to be directing it, although he eventually pulled out to star in (and direct) 'Thor' .... odd choice.

Anyway, I persuaded my sister, Simon and a friend of his (Andrea) to come with me, and we all made our various ways to the theatre for the matinee, meeting out front about 15 minutes before curtain up. At it was the penultimate performance, there were scores of people queueing for returns (or standing seats - and yes, there were quite a few people doing that!).

I have never seen 'Hamlet' live - although I've seen plenty of film versions. I am ashamed to say I hate Laurence Olivier's performance; Mel Gibson was an odd choice (although Glenn Close as Gertrude is inspired); but of course my favourite is Kenneth Branagh's - and if you can find the four hour uncut version, it is well worth sitting in front of - if merely for the pleasure of John Gielgud and Judi Dench acting out the tragedy of Priam and Hecuba, with voice over of Charlton Heston as the Player King.

I digress. I think I have established that I had doubts about the logic of Jude Law's casting, and I have to confess that these were not entirely dispelled with his entrance. Of course, Hamlet doesn't get many lines in the first scene, and whilst talking to Claudius and Gertrude, he is too petulant to allow most actors to shine; but with the first soliloquy, I felt that this might just end up being a stellar performance. This was proved to be true when Hamlet meets the ghost of his father - that scene sent shivers down my spine. After that, the play simply flew. Those key scenes that are so important, and so familiar, were all done with impeccable timing, and helped along by the sparsity of the set.

Most of the visible stage was covered with black flagstones; about two thirds back, a great gate (like a front gate to a castle) was positioned on rollers, to be moved back and forth, so it could reveal or hide parts of the action. One door in the middle of the gate, and one either side, served to allow people from the 'outside' to enter. There were very few seats used throughout (five, I think in all, and those only in three scenes), and practically no backdrops. The beginning of Gertrude's confrontation scene with Hamlet was cleverly done, because instead of Polonius being hidden at the back of the stage, the arras was brought down front stage, so that Hamlet and Gertrude were hidden from view, and the audience had a clear view of Polonius listening in. When Hamlet stabbed him, he brought down the curtain in his death throes, and revealed the scene to the audience.

Now. This scene of Gertrude's is my favourite, because I love how it becomes the turning point for her, and her view of the whole situation, and in my view it's done best with little weeping. This wasn't the case here, and unfortunately (forgive me Simon) Penelope Wilton almost ruined it with an overly hysterical performance. However, when she got to the line 'Oh Hamlet, thou hast cleft my heart in twain', her whole manner dropped like a stone, and never was there a quieter and beautiful performance. Except perhaps for this one.

And again, I digress - it's getting late, sorry readers. So, they all died. And died very well in their various poisoned states; Fortinbras came in, claimed the kingdom, the curtain went down (stayed down for a while longer than usual, to give everyone time to get off the floor) and then rose to rapturous applause. Which went on and on, and there were lots of bows, although only two curtain calls (why, nowadays, are there only two curtain calls? What happens if there was a play, the best ever seen, and people were bowled over so much they just went on clapping, even after the lights were put up? Would there be more curtain calls, or just lonely people clapping? It's something that puzzles me).

So it ended, and an obvious trip to the stage door was agreed upon. Having got there, we found a crowd, in a neat (but expanding) semi circle. 'Is there a barrier?' my sister wondered. No - just good old fashioned British respect .... even though half the waiting people weren't English at all. Kevin McNally came out, as did Penelope Wilton; we were reliably informed that Jude Law never came out between shows (although I bet he sneaks out of a different entrance occasionally), Peter Eyre came out and hung around a while, and Fenella Fielding plus suitcase waited at the stage door for someone (and the person next to me said she is married to one of the actors, although I can't work out who!!!), and Anita Dobson went past on her way into the Noel Coward theatre, which is showing Calendar Girls. Starry eyes indeed!

So there we are - Jude Law's 'Hamlet', a success, methinks, even with its errors, and one worthy of being entered into the halls of fame. I'm always jealous of my father when he says he's seen something that was put on before I was born (Laurence Olivier and Maggie Smith's 'Othello' being one of them). Perhaps people in years to come will be jealous of this!!!

********

One more thing, which I am slightly apprehensive of putting here, lest it be lost in my enthusiastic write up of 'Hamlet', and that is a piece of news about a book I loved, and which has been talked about all over the blogosphere. 'The Spare Room' by Helen Garner is to be adapted for the London stage by Eileen Atkins and will star Eileen herself and Vanessa Redgrave. Look out for it in 2010 - I know I'll be getting tickets!!!

A family affair

As I'm sure you know, I quite like going to the theatre, and in this, the 70th year since the Oxford Playhouse was conceived, I've been attending rather more plays than usual in my home theatre.

Tonight, there was a benefit for the Playhouse campaign, in which Prunella Scales, Timothy West and Sam West, entertained a packed house, with a number of pieces, all under the theme of 'Family'.

Kicking off with the infamous 'Handbag' scene from 'The Importance of being Earnest' (in which Prunella gave a rather quiet and exhausted delivery of that line), the trio rattled their way through 'Brideshead Revisited', 'Hamlet', 'It's all right if I do it' (with a wonderfully giggly reading from Prunella, and a completely baffled reaction from Timothy) 'The Birthday Party', 'When We Were Married', 'A Number' (Here, Sam West struggled to come to terms with the fact that there are clones of him, and he isn't necessarily the original from whence they sprang), 'Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?', 'Family Voices' (This a Harold Pinter radio play of 25 minutes, which tells a tale through letters of a family keeping in touch, yet at the same so far apart as to have lost all contact. A wonderful piece), 'Father William' and finally 'Cocoa'.

I really do love ensemble pieces like this - especially when the actors in question know each other so well. Lovely to see Sam West laughing his head off at some of his parent's deliveries, as did Timothy at one point. In directing his mother to a chair for the 'Family Voices' piece, Prunella went one too far and was instantly recalled by Sam. 'I don't know why it matters', he mused, 'it's a radio play, there's not much action.'

*I've changed the picture - many thanks to Jellybean for providing me with the link!!!

His Dark Materials

There are some books that you would love to see realised on stage or film, but you can't quite visualise how it would work, and dread anyone trying.

This is how I feel about the 'His Dark Materials' trilogy. I've always loved the books because of the depth in both the plot and characters; the fact it's partly set in Oxford makes it all the more magical to me. The film of the first book doesn't do any justice, and it's always struck me as odd that it should have been made when there was never any intention of completing the trilogy.

When the National Theatre staged a two part adaptation of the books, I desperately wanted to see it, but I never got the chance. Today, my dream finally came true, as I spent six hours in the Oxford Playhouse watching the most wonderful performances.

It's a notoriously difficult plot to stage, not least because of the daemons the population of one world are supposed to have. And how do you create armoured polar bears? The answer, it turns out, is puppetry. Beautiful puppetry, that makes use of the puppeteer, so that even if you are slightly distracted by a snow leopard being manipulated by a human, it doesn't matter, because the human is the voice, and therefore part of the enchantment.

If you happen to be in Bromley, Northampton, Edinburgh or West Yorkshire over the next couple of months, I urge you to go and see it. In fact, I'd even go so far as to say that you should make a trip specially to see it. I can't possibly talk about all the aspects of what makes it so wonderful, or how they manage to cram so much into six hours, but if anyone has questions, then do write in the comments.

I doubt anyone from the National is reading this, but I really wish and hope that someone films the stage version, it's truly remarkable!

Thankful for Theatre

Quite a lot of the time I wish that I had been born fifty or sixty years ago. This may seem strange, but when you consider that my parents have seen people like Laurence Olivier in the flesh, it's not so hard to understand why I feel a bit left out!

So when I head that Kenneth Branagh (my all time Shakespeare idol) was kicking off a Donmar season in London with Ivanov, I went all weak at the knees and begged my father for tickets. Strangely the only day dad could get them was on his birthday, so he kinda ended up paying for his own birthday evening out!

I love Chekhov - The Cherry Orchard being by favourite, until last week that is. Never mind that I was at the back of the theatre, and there was tall people in front of me, none of that mattered, because the moment Branagh walked onto the stage, he owned every inch of it, and took my breath away countless times.
Two parts in particular were awe inspiring - at one point Branagh breaks down and falls to the floor, but instead of just collapsing in a heap, he did it in stages, from dropping his head onto his chest, bowing, going on to his knees, sitting down and finally lying on the floor. The control it took to do, and keep the audience spell bound was the work of genius.
The other part was right at the end, when Ivanov has his final breakdown. Branagh has a speech which gets faster and faster, going more and more out of control as it progresses, until he is told to shut up, where upon he slows right down to a word a second, and then almost falls backwards. I'd tell you all to go and see it, but it's finished - sob!

Of course I went and stood by the stage door, and got a few signatures - Gina Mckee was very nice (and very tall), whilst I made an arse out of myself in front of Tom Hiddleston (mixed up Miss Austen Regrets and Lost in Austen, oh the shame) and he was very kind too. Absolute thrill to meet Kevin McNally (pirate Gibbs in Pirates of the Caribbean), who then went and sat at the next table to where my parents were sitting waiting for me, so they got to talk to him too.

I would say it was a thrill to meet Kenneth Branagh, but he didn't come out of the stage door. Apparently Wydham's theatre has 15 exits, so it's anyone's guess how he slid off into the night!

I got tickets for Twelfth Night (Derek Jacobi) and Madame de Sade (Judi Dench) whilst I was there too, so I was a very happy bunny.

I am so thankful for living this close to London that I can whizz back and forth to see such things. And I can only hope that people I know in 50 or 60 years are as jealous of who I've seen now, as I am of who my father has seen!

Lady in London

There is something about London that thrills me every time I visit. I'm not entirely sure I'd like to live there. I get stressed trying to negotiate Oxford on a busy Saturday, London is like that all the time. I'd end up shooting people, I have no doubt.

I'm also quite certain that I'd become impoverished in an astronomically quick time. I'd spend all my time in the National Portrait gallery, in between wandering second hand shops and going to the theatre.

I mentioned the fact that I was going to go to the second hand dept in Foyles - I was expecting to come out with at least one red bag, chock full, and instead what did I come out with?

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

No - don't all have heart attacks from the shock - I made up the lack by going into a general secondhand shop and finding four books there - one of them was 'The Yellow wallpaper' by Charlotte Perkins Gilman. I haven't dared read it yet, because I only seem to be at home in the evening, and I'm already trying to deal with the anxiety of having a rocking chair in the house, without worrying that the wallpaper is driving me insane too.

The trip to the theatre was fantastic too. I actually took a picture of the stage before the play started, because it was wonderful, and I'll post it once I've finished the film.* The play was fantastic, and I have become even more of a fan of Eileen Atkins - her comic timing is phenomenal! I waited at the stage door, as is my custom, and got all the cast signatures. Eileen was almost the last, and I ended up holding her beautiful bouquet of flowers so she could sign everyone's programmes. She professed to recognise me from when I saw her in 'The Sea' in April (I was the only one that night, so I suppose it could be true) and was generally very lovely.


Tomorrow I'm off to Abingdon to be profligate again, and am going to have to start thinking about my Friday interview, so I'm not too stressed on Thursday.

* I am now totally convinced of my need for a digital camera. Using Dad's has been totally brilliant over the last months, especially for this blog. It's only taken me about 5 years to convert. I wonder if my feelings over e-readers will ever be changed like this ...

Thrills and Chills

I read The Woman in Black recently and was glad I read it during the day, as I was considerably chilled by the plot. However, that was nothing compared to the way I felt Friday night when I saw the stage play.

Yes, I had been warned that it would frighten the life out of me, but I didn't pay that much attention, especially at the beginning, which seemed to stop and start a great deal. I wasn't sure if it would work with just two actors ...

My doubts on that score were firmly laid to rest however, when the scream came. I hope never to hear such a scream like that as long as I live. It was truly horrific, and I think the temperature of my blood dropped a few degrees.

It's a fantastic play though - one which everyone should go and see - even if it does scare you out of your wits!