WALKING IN A WEST END WONDERLAND
PART 5
It's
been a long time since we've crossed the Pond. Let's fix that. Five shows from
London's fabulous West End make up today's post. And to start us off… What could be more
quintessentially British than royalty?
I guess this is one way to avoid the scrum at the bars during the interval.
Coffee
or, rather, tea ready? Let's begin.
ROSE – Duke of
York's Theatre – London
6.50 pounds today is $9.82. No matter how you slice it, in 1980, theatre was still quite the bargain in London.
The Duke of York's Theatre opened in September, 1892.
May,
1980. A typically British domestic comedy about marriage
and life, it enjoyed a successful run in London primarily because of the
sensational Glenda Jackson. (It had a limited run a year later in New York,
playing to marginal houses after middling reviews.) It had something to do with an unfulfilled,
feminist school teacher in the Midlands and if the plot sounds dodgy, it had
enough humor to carry it along and keep the audiences happy. Make no mistake, however.
Everyone, and I mean everyone, in the
Duke of York's that Thursday evening was there to see two-time Academy Award and
Emmy Award winner Glenda Jackson up close and personal. I know I was. A word here about Ms.
Jackson...I am a huge fan. Full stop. The woman is so talented and can do
comedy and drama with equal ease. (Witness
Oscars for a drama, "Women in Love" and a comedy, "A Touch of
Class," one of my favorite films. And let's not forget her Emmy-winning
television mini-series "Elizabeth R," still a marvelous bit of
television.) To see one of my idols in a play a few scant feet away from me
was, and remains, something to treasure. "Rose" also is the source of
one of my favorite expressions, uttered to hysterical perfection by Ms.
Jackson: "Find 'em, feel 'em, fuck 'em, forget 'em!" I think it's a jolly little phrase,
appropriate for many occasions! Ta, Glenda!
Sidebar: From the early 90s until March, 2015 Glenda Jackson
was a MP (Member of Parliament) and, during that time, retired from acting.
She's 79 now, but returned to acting this November in a radio
"mash-up" of novels by French writer Emile Zola. Lucky Radio 4.
A DELICATE
BALANCE – Theatre Royal Haymarket – London
the elegant Theatre Royal Haymarket
March,
1998. A Pulitzer Prize-winning play by Edward Albee. A cast that included
Maggie Smith, Eileen Atkins and John Standing. Excellent reviews, especially
for the two leading ladies, one already a Dame and one a future Dame. Now
imagine you are Ellenor Wilkinson, a working actress with West End credits, cast
as the cover for the parts of Claire (Dame Maggie) and Julia (the young,
abrasive daughter). Dame Maggie never
misses a performance. But then, sadly, Beverely Cross, Dame Maggie's husband, dies
and you are now going to go on in the place of two-time Academy Award-winner
and top-billed Maggie Smith. The line at the box office requesting
refunds/rebookings wasn't as long as you'd have thought, and Bob and I wanted
to see the play, so we stayed. Those who did would not be disappointed. Ms.
Wilkinson started out a bit tentative, but then, as the play progressed, she
got stronger and stronger, mining the laughs in the role of Claire, the
alcoholic sister, for all that they were worth and giving co-star Eileen Atkins
a run for her money. She was rewarded with cheers and heavy applause when she
took her bow. The audience acclaim was well-deserved. Maggie Smith's part was
in good hands until her return. In the arguably more difficult role of Agnes,
Claire's sister and the less "fun" of the two, Eileen Atkins gave a
master class in understated, yet powerful, acting. Like her terrific
performance three years earlier in Broadway's Indiscretions, it was a privilege to watch her work. We thought the
entire cast did a fine job and, for me, it was a kick to see Annette Crosbie,
the fairy godmother in the underrated film musical The Slipper and the Rose, in a serious and somewhat creepy part.
This is not a happy play, but one that will get you thinking.
KAFKA'S DICK –
Piccadilly Theatre – London
The interior of the beautiful Piccadilly Theatre.
January, 1999. Who could resist a play with a title like Kafka's Dick? I mean, seriously. And most especially when it stars
Julia McKenzie? I know I couldn't and didn't. Written by a pre-The History Boys Alan Bennett, this silly and terribly British
"literary" farce concerned itself with fame and biography, implying
that, as far as the public is concerned, the more libidinous, the better, with the
supposedly modest size of Mr. Kafka's titular dick being the plot driver.
Having read The Metamorphosis in the
original German in high school in Mr. Oglesby's fourth year German class, I was
fascinated by Gregor Samsa and his story. I never once, however, thought about
Mr. Kafka's private parts. See how the theatre expands one's mind? Positively gave a whole new spin on Kafka. Julia
McKenzie took the acting honors with her signature comic timing, solidly
delivering the laughs, yet keeping the character grounded in reality. A daffy
reality, to be sure, but an endearing, human one. Bob had heard me praise
McKenzie for years. This was the first time he'd seen her, and, like me, he was
enchanted with her. Often very, very funny and staged at appropriately farcical
speed, this is B-drawer Alan Bennett that will give you two hours of pleasure,
but will not leave you with much of an impression afterwards other than that
you'd had a quite funny evening at the theatre.
AMY'S VIEW –
Aldwych Theatre – London
The beautiful Aldwych Theatre. It opened in 1905.
We like to think our granddaughter Esme was named after Dame Judi's character.
March,
1998. David Hare's dense, talky, yet rewarding play is a veritable feast for
the two actresses playing the leading roles. It's also a veritable feast for
the audience if the two actresses playing the leading roles are Dame Judi Dench
and Samantha Bond, both probably best known to the general public for their
portrayals of "M" and Miss Moneypenny in later James Bond films.
Under Richard Eyre's skillful direction and greatly enhanced by a terrific
design by Bob Crowley and Mark Henderson, Dame Judi and Ms. Bond made this
financial (!!), political, anti-Thatcher, new media versus traditional theatre,
mother/daughter dynamics, love and loss-themed play more than the sum of its
various parts. These were two richly-nuanced and very human women on that stage
and that was crucial, because the play sometimes became mired in what it wanted
to say. At close to three hours, it was a tad too long, but as long as either
Dench or Bond were onstage, either separately or, especially, together, the
theatre crackled with electricity. This wasn't a two-hander, however, and solid
jobs were turned in by Donald Pickup, Eoin McCarthy, Christopher Staines, in a
small role at the very end of the play, and especially Joyce Redman as Dench's
feisty mother. Samantha Bond was a revelation. To see Dame Judi Dench in anything is a privilege. To see Dame
Judi Dench at her finest in a rich and complex role is something you never
forget. Bob and I were in awe. A truly unforgettable and thrilling afternoon at
the theatre.
LA CAVA –
Piccadilly Theatre – London
The ever-ubiquitous marketing. Even for unsuccessful shows.
The publicists must have worked overtime to get those quotes.
January,
2001. When
this show opened on the West End, it received dismissive reviews. We knew about
them, so I'm not quite sure why we saw this. We saw it at a matinee, so maybe it
was the only thing on the boards that we hadn't seen. (God forbid Bob and I should actually see a …
gasp … tourist attraction or museum on a matinee day!) Or maybe we just wanted to see what qualified
as a disaster on the West End. Bottom
line? It was far from being the worst thing I'd seen. In fact, while it wasn't
especially good, it really wasn't awful, either. It was professional, slick and
entertaining. Epic in scope, very epic,
in the fashion of Les Miserables with
a big, all-encompassing, if forgettable, score, La Cava had a convoluted plot that involved Florinda, a governor's
daughter in Spanish North Africa, sent to mainland Spain to learn tapestry and
other at-the-time girl things. But, while there, the Moors threaten to invade and she becomes
the mistress of the Spanish king after she first claims he raped her, which
causes her father to start a war to avenge her lost honor. In the ensuing
melee, her Moorish boyfriend is killed, Florinda discovers she's preggers with
the King's kid, but now is madly in love with him, but it's all too late and an
onstage bloodbath closes the show. Confused?
Yeah, frankly, so were we. But it
had a superlative physical production, was well-sung, and featured an
outstanding performance by Paul Keating as the Spanish queen's conniving
page. Originally we were close to the
stage, but moved back in the stalls during the interval because it was just visually
and aurally too much. It closed shortly
afterwards. I doubt this musical will ever burn up the Am-Dram circuit. Glad we
saw it, though, if only as a curiosity piece.
Sidebar: La Cava originally opened at the
off-West End West End Victoria Palace Theatre (no, I really didn't repeat
myself), more or less across from Victoria Station. It did dismal business
there, but the producers, for whatever inexplicable producer reasons they may have
had, claimed the location of the theatre prevented the crowds from coming, so
they packed their bags six weeks later and moved to the much more centrally
located Piccadilly Theatre. It ran longer there, but still didn't make any
money. Curiously, Billy Elliot has
been at the Victoria Palace since it opened in 2005. The location hasn't seemed
to hurt that show's financial bottom line. Just saying….
And
that's it for now. Stay warm!
©
2015 Jeffrey Geddes
