Love and Other Acts of Violence (PREVIEW), Donmar Warehouse, ★★

Previews can be precarious and problematic. They can also be absolutely perfect, as the production settles down, ready for the official opening night. Some producers and performing houses hate critics reviewing previews, as the production is still trying to find-its-feet, and may yet be subject to changes. But I also believe, that if a production is selling tickets, however cheap they may be, they cannot stop any paying person from sharing their views. The only condition clearly being, that they mention it actually still was in preview, and not the final post press-night production.

Love and Other Acts of Violence was on its second preview at the newly reopened Donmar Warehouse. It’s a very brave choice to reopen with a new play by an inexperienced young Cordelia Lynn. 

The very fragmented first act was a difficult watch, for a number of reasons. Not only was it a detailed chronology of the intense relationship between Jewish physicist (Abigail Weinstock) and her activist Polish partner (Tom Mothersdale), it was also, as the play’s title conveys, a mix of love and acts of violence. But, sadly for me, it felt like I was still in the rehearsal room. The 90 minutes was presented on a bare wooden stage, surrounded by gravel and mud, with the short scenes interrupted by post-it styled thoughts or quotations, dotted in the dirt. I struggled to make sense of it all.

I yearned for an interval, and to be honest, doubted if I'd return. But I was also confused about the other actor named on the poster, Richard Katz. Was this going to be a production of two contrasting halves? Was there an unexpected twist about to drop from the darkness, and restore my faith in the Donmar’s reputation for new and challenging productions?

Without revealing too much, a much-needed change was delivered, which conveniently explained many of the oddities of the rather mundane first act. It wasn’t a wholly unexpected twist, as the seeds had been sown into the dark earth, which surrounded Basia Bińkowska's rather bland stage design. 

Mothersdale and Weinstock literally acted their socks off, moving and fighting their way bare-footed between the grit and gravel, and the wooden floor. The intense passion between these two troubled characters worked well, but then their darkest subconscious secrets, past lives and family inheritance crept in, bringing with it the conflict and confrontation. 

There is no doubting the relevance of the material being discussed between the two characters, which I’d argue was the main reason for choosing to re-open with this problematic play. But the fragmented rehearsal-room format never truly gave me a chance to get my much needed teeth into the material, or to release any true theatrical flavour, to take away with me. It was like flicking through the news channels, picking the rare bits of raw meat off the thin bones. 

The second act did manage to collect and collate some of those bones, but the production felt like it had escaped the intensity of the rehearsal room into an amateur dramatics presentation, with its tinned Heinz soup and equally tinny portrayals. 

Bińkowska's production design was saved by a more dramatic and much-welcomed change in the second act, but I’m afraid my concentration, patience and loyalty to Elayce Ismail's 120 minute presentation was battered, and remained lost like the quotes in the darkness of the dirt. 

Not the best reopening for the Donmar; a definite case of relevance over substance, fragmentation over firmness, and sadly, not much love or credible violence to justify leaving the rehearsal room.

Love and Other Acts of Violence (PREVIEW), Donmar Warehouse, ★★

Gwledd (The Feast) FILM, BFI / LFF, ★★

I really wanted to enjoy Gwledd, or The Feast as it’s known beyond Wales. There were many reasons why I had high expectations for this cinematic horror soirée based in a remote, newly developed, house in mid-Wales. Being a fellow Welshman, naturally I wanted this new venture on the big screen, (already picked up to be distributed through Picturehouse Cinemas) to be a scenic success. I also knew the previous work of its writer-director team, who had produced hours of theatrical and tv drama in their native Welsh language, mainly for S4C (the fourth Channel in Wales)

From its atmospheric opening images of a rural landscape being raped by a ground-drilling machine, followed by the subsequent graphic punishment of the drill operator, (I assume was pierced to death by the deafening soundtrack), it was clear that this wasn’t going to be an easy or pleasurable feast.

The rest of the film centred on a supposedly ‘modern, newly renovated, unconventional Welsh home’ according to the film’s director Lee Haven Jones. ‘We wanted to avoid the clichéd traditional Welsh stoned building’ he added, at the showing of the film on the second night of the London Film Festival held at the BFI. ‘This house almost becomes another character within the film’, added another representative, during the Q&A at the end. They also mentioned it was available to rent, as I found online! 

I think this house was one of the main reasons why I didn’t enjoy the film. To anyone like me who indulges their passion for new properties by watching Channel 4's series Grand Designs, (and then goes on Twitter to view the brutally honest opinions of the audience on their architectural dream houses), this property was as horrific as the horror in the film’s blurb.

To me, this grey-black, brick-blacked, single glazed eyesore, with its plastic looking pine panelled interior, (which even boasted an open-roofed, darkened brick, chill-out prison cell) looked like a cheap film set.

The producers boasted that this property made the film, but it felt more like they made the film because of this property! After finding this ‘unique’ house, did writer Roger Williams and director Haven Jones come together, over a bottle-or-three of Welsh whiskey, and clobbered together the thinnest of plots, stereotypical characters, and an agricultural theme? Oh, and add in a bit of horror to make the ‘film travel beyond Wales’, as they wanted it to do. 

The other characters in the film weren’t any better; a posh, wealthy wife (Nia Roberts) who looked far too young to have two sons in their early twenties; Gweirydd (Siôn Alun Davies) the sadomasochistic ‘rapist’ weirdo, obsessed with his bike, health and beauty regime, and Guto (Steffan Cennydd) the black-sheep druggie of the family, banished from London to his rural Welsh prison. To justify his journey, the father of the family (Julian Lewis Jones) was the local corrupt Member of Parliament (sheepishly avoiding the reputation of the Welsh Senedd!) and living off his back-handers from the equally stereotypical and corrupt businessman, who also represented the drilling company, played by a comedic Rhodri Meilir. 

And then of course we needed the visitors, Mair - a typical Welsh farmwife, devoted to her land, husband and traditions, beautifully underplayed by Lisa Palfrey, which grounded the film, but unfortunately, couldn’t save it. The same for the ethereal quality of Annes Elwy’s portrayal of Cadi, with her limited lines and confusing presence. These two external but wholly crucial characters, gives us the plot of the story. Mair is invited to the feast, in order for the father and his financial side-kick, to try and get her to agree to sell some of her land for redevelopment. Cadi, the kitchen-maid come waitress, come general dogs-body, is the replacement of their usual help, on such evenings. A completely unrealistic and seemingly unneeded assistance for such a small dinner party, which completely destroys the whole plot!

This unrealistic theme continued throughout the script, from the special delivery of supposed luxury groceries like ‘bok choy’ (which I know is available in most supermarkets in Wales in 2021!) to the apparent lack of six matching wines glasses, or more than one ‘dry cleaned’ white table cloth! After all the fuss, I’m still waiting to see the aforementioned pak choy being prepared for the feast! The £10,000 abstract painting on the wall must have eaten up the crockery budget, although they were quick to declare how wealthy they were, over and over again.

Another unfortunate and unforgivable line and scene, was the return of Mair to the house she’d upsconded from in fury, during the feast. I won’t repeat this dreadful line in Welsh or English, but it’s the pivotal hook that this weak and wobbly plot, is based on, after the discovery of the house, of course!

There is no doubting Haven Jones' ability to create tension, although it does feel unrealistically forced in the first twenty minutes of the film, to try and save a weak plot. His cinematic vision is also impressive, and I'm certain will carry him over to much better material in the future. But for now, forget the fake horror feast, and skip the whole cinematic cliché; just go rent this property in the real beauty of Mid-Wales, with a pre-prepared takeaway and no invited guests! 

Gwledd (The Feast) FILM, BFI / LFF, ★★

The Prince of Egypt, Dominion Theatre, ★★★★★

‘There can be miracles, if you believe’ is a song I’ve long loved, but had never seen the film / show The Prince of Egypt, from where it originates. Currently in its last few weeks at the Dominion Theatre, where I’ve previously seen and believed in the magic of the musicals, this show tops them all. 

Visibly funded by the infamous animation company Dreamworks, you can easily see where this film-to-stage as opposed to the more popular journey from stage-to-film, gets its spectacular scenic magic.

As Lloyd Webber did with Joseph and the Amazing Technicolour Dreamcoat and then Jesus Christ Superstar, Stephen Schwartz has followed with Godspell, his recently celebrated 30th anniversary of Children of Eden, and now The Prince of Egypt. I guess it was only a matter of time before the greatest story ever told, was turned into several  subsequent shows, without the clear parody of The Book of Mormon. 

To be perfectly honest with you, I hadn’t realised this show was based on the Biblical story of the Egyptian ‘brothers’, Moses (Luke Brady) and Ramses (Liam Tamne). We follow the story from Moses’ birth and subsequent escaping journey alone on the Nile into the loving hands of the Queen Tuya of Egypt (Debbie Kurup). Raised as their own son by Tuya and her husband Pharaoh Seti (Joe Dixon) it's not until much later in life that Moses realises his true identity and calling to save the Hebrews, through a series of miracles, finishing with the picturesque parting of the Red Sea.

There is no doubting the theatricality and dramatic value in the original Religious Texts, with the burning bush, the plagues, chariot races and the majestic presence of the Pyramids, giving director Scott Schwartz solid stepping stones to build up a striking and truly memorable show. Sean Cheeseman's choreography and Kevin Depinet's stage design and Mike Billings' lighting was as spectacular as the scenic projections, using the vast empty canvas of the Dominion stage (and beyond) to its full theatrical effect.

Despite this recent need to pump out the musical soundtrack to its fullest volume, (like the ear-deafening dreadful Waitress the Musical) at least with this show, I was able to understand every words sung by these clearly triple-threat amazing actors, dancers and singers.

Hidden beneath Lloyd Webber's continuing hold on the West End, and the ever-increasing stream of questionably cheesey Broadway 'hits,' that washes their way over the Atlantic Ocean, this is one real royal gem that deserves to be found and seen and savoured.

The Prince of Egypt, Dominion Theatre, ★★★★★

Camp Siegfried, Old Vic Theatre, ★★★★★

When I finally arrived at a very cool, airy and spaced-out Old Vic Theatre, I was so happy, for more reasons than one! In my tired, end-of-the-week theatrical state, for some unknown reason, I’d convinced myself that this new play by American writer Bess Wohl was at the Royal Court, in Sloane Square. On my way there, I’d even semi-planned my opening gambit about my memories of the first time I’d seen a play at the illustrious Court. It wasn’t until I stood outside, and was confused as to why the iconic red neon letters did not spell out Camp Siegfried that it dawned on me, that I’d done a big faux pas! Luckily, as I like to arrive early, I just about had time to dash back-over the river to Waterloo, towards the equally iconic Old Vic. Not the best start to an evening at the theatre!.

Another curious coincidence, is that many of the plays I’ve seen this week have had a strong Jewish theme. But far from the emotionally charged, family tragedy of Stoppard’s stunning Leopoldstadt, Wohl's new play tells the complete opposite story of two young people, who find themselves in a Hilter Youth styled camp, in the USA.

Camp Siegfried is based on a real family summer camp located near the town of Yaphank on Long Island, New York, at the end of the 1930's. The admiration and idolisation of Adolf Hitler is growing, as is his political propaganda to create a greater Germany, and ultimately and ironically ’make America great again’.

We are introduced to the seemingly naive Her (Patsy Ferran) and her new friend Him (Luke Thallon), who are clearly flirting at a dance in the camp. While the Oom Pah Pah band is inviting them all to the dance floor, these two potential young lovers have other moves in mind. 

Through a series of clever scenes that not only conveys their ever-closer relationship, but also the changes in character, as she becomes visibly more confident and him less so. The need to create a new Ayran Master Race,  one of the ideologies of the Nazi propoganda, has clearly been pumped into the mentality of the alpha males of this generation. Her unexepected triumph over his bravado, is brilliantly conveyed by Ferran's subtle but powerful portrayal, clearly showing why she was awarded the Olivier for best actress in 2019, for her part in Tennessee Williams's Summer And Smoke at the Almeida. 

It was this ever-changing perspective and political awakening that I found so captivating in this stark but stunning production directed by Katy Rudd and designed by Rosanna Vize. At times, it had the essence of Wedekind's 1891 German play, Spring Awakening, adapted into the successful Broadway musical by Sheik & Sater in 2006, as these young ones explored all aspects of their coming-to-age journeys. It also shows how easily influenced their generation was, not only on their vaterland homeland, but also many miles away, in the USA. 

Her passionate opinions and vision of this potential perfect utopia, drawn from her research in books and her teachings at Camp, is scarily credible. The anger and hate generated by the Nazi’s towards the Jews, shows how easily influenced these lambs-to-the-slaughter, really were. 

Ferran and Thallon's portrayals and stage presence, on a pretty much bare stage, along with their perfect diction that filled every corner of this iconic theatre, is truly memorable. Wohl's dialogue and tightly constructed story is equally memorable, with just the right balance between emotion and entertainment, to take these two characters on a life-changing experience, over one summer in their lives. Unlike Leopoldstadt's straight-through 130 minutes marathon (which did cause a little discomfort to my derrière!) this powerful 90 minutes completely captured my attention and imagination throughout.

Camp Siegfried, Old Vic Theatre, ★★★★★