Here are the two poles of British theatre: the aesthetically free and the socially urgent. Despite the ravages of quarantine, things don’t look so bad.
It was time for Punchdrunk to take a new turn, and so it did. Viola’s Room is a departure point for immersive magicians led by artistic director Felix Barrett. Not only that after its vast splendor Burnt City, it’s a surprisingly intimate show. Importantly, viewers are not asked to follow the actors independently, inferring a story from bits of action, but are directed to experience the same sequence of events. Everyone should share a version. Actually, the situation is not that simple.
Entering a canvas maze in small groups, viewers are told to follow the light. Actually Viola’s Room It consists of different lighting: Simon Wilkinson’s wonderful lighting, which leads us to Casey Jay Andrews’ design, proves that light is not just one thing. This could be the soft overhead glow from overhanging cotton wool wormballs or the bright glow from a doorway. Like the red fairy bulbs scattered around a girl’s mirror, it can indicate a personality. It can open dazzlingly new places: a miniature palace is created in an alcove when a golden glow pierces a set of wings and offers a view of shadowy waltzing couples.
The idea of being guided by light is not simple. While religious overtones are subverted during this dance-with-the-devil outing, viewers are actually instructed (and in one instance) via voice as to the significance of what they’re seeing as they walk, a first for the visually-focused Punchdrunk. Crawl). Through headphones, they hear Gareth Fry’s chilling soundtrack, featuring music by Massive Attack and Tori Amos, and Daisy Johnson’s rendition of Barry Pain’s gothic tale The Moon-Slave. Focusing more on adjective connotation than plot, this adventure involves a last-minute escape from a marriage and references Hans Christian Andersen’s terrifying The Red Shoes: throughout the journey, pale pink ballet slippers are framed like an installation or hang from a shoe tree.
Whispers fill the theater now: heard bluetsAt Jamie Lloyd’s house Romeo and JulietAt Max Webster’s house Macbeth. Helena Bonham Carter’s stern delivery cuts away the comfort of bedtime with a slight growl and knowingness in her voice. As it’s supposed to be. Although often elegant and sometimes folkloric in appearance, Viola’s Room It is complex with its paradoxes. Its story is about coercion and loss of control, but this is the show where Punchdrunk most clearly controls its own audience.
A View from the Bridge It seems to me to be the most rewarding of Arthur Miller’s plays. This is partly a matter of expectations. Drama is not like that Death of a salesperson – Staggering under the burden of an ordinary figure. Less challenged by political updates Pot. It has an unexpected core. A Greek tragedy set in 1950s Brooklyn, it follows a middle-aged dockworker’s obsession with his teenage nephew. He lives with the apocalypse.
Dramatic oddity emerged instinctively nine years ago in the Young Vic production of Ivo van Hove’s stripped-back piece of meat. This is evident even in Lindsay Posner’s more deadpan production. The pace is intentional. Martin Marquez’s introduction as narrator is harsh; Peter McKintosh’s design – brown apartment buildings with iron staircases – secures the setting but does little to create claustrophobia. However, there is a growing sense of displacement. The evening is lively in the most important place. In central performances.
Dominic West is a great Eddie, especially because – yes, he’s the same actor who was Prince Charles in the 1980s. Crown – makes you believe he’s having a day at the docks. He starts out as physically relaxed as a big cat; As his agony grows, he becomes a man’s blood bubble: his face dark, his limbs heavy, ready to burst. Her unfulfilled desire – her inability to accept what she feels – taints her own life and the lives of those around her. Kate Fleetwood is extremely subtle and cunning as the abandoned woman who refuses to stop loving her husband. Their reactions are profound; His eyes tremble, his mouth narrows as he draws the color of unhappiness, but a strong truth comes out from between his lips. Nia Towle makes a passionate and delightful debut as the desired niece.
For the first time I realized how radically all the characters had been displaced, psychologically or physically; how they look with amazement or horror at those who live differently. The trigger for the tragedy is the arrival of Italian immigrants without legal papers: one of them is jealously condemned by Eddie as not being a man because he can cook. The ending, with betrayal, authorities beating on the door, and bloodshed, carries a dire warning for today.
Star ratings (out of five)
Viola’s Room ★★★★
A View from the Bridge ★★★