James Murray on the Stage
Neil Labute's The Shape Of Things in London's West End's New Ambassadors Theatre
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The story of Adam and Evelyn, the nerdy student and the conceptual artist who remakes him for her own ends (to say more, even now after the release of the film version, would be to give the game away), was greeted on its Almeida première as the most controversial top-notch American play since David Mamet's Oleanna... also, as it happens, now revived in the West End.
I didn't see that earlier production, but to judge by the reviews it received, Julian Webber's revival treads the same general path, albeit now broadened and flattened slightly. Instead of scene changes punctuated by The Smashing Pumpkins, Webber uses undistinguished modern college rock by Fraternity (who?); instead of the almost excessively beautiful Rachel Weisz as Evelyn, we have the rather less magnetic, still-bankable-though-not-quite-as-big-league Hollywood name Alicia Witt; and so on. Simon Higlett's elegant minimalist set captions a number of scenes "A living room", "A lawn", etc, as if they were artworks themselves (and at one point wittily projects the legend "A Cineplex" in the style of one of those awful, jiggling Warners or Odeon gobos).
Witt is personable and efficient, so much so that during one onstage row you can imagine the dispassionate behaviourist in Evelyn thinking, "Now for a little negative reinforcement." Even at his sharpest-dressed, Enzo Cilenti never quite transcends cuddly and sweet as Adam, and James Murray is annoyingly over-the-top as abrasive best friend Phillip. But the play's big twist continues to work, both in narrative and thematic terms: even when you know what's coming, Evelyn's climactic lecture is downright shocking. The responsibility of the artist and the conflict between surface and substance are still powerfully enacted. LaBute's final tantalising smack comes with the realisation that the one remark admitted to be true in the whole affair turns out to have been an intimate whisper which we never heard. About this as about the whole business, we have to make our own decisions, and indeed to make up our own fabrications.
LaBute's The Shape Of Things Revisited by Brian Clover
Editor's Note: This is our third visit to this play. It is followed by my review of the New York Off-Broadway production, and below that the original London review. e.s.
We've had Albee's take on Sophocles and now it's Neil LaBute's update of Shaw's Pygmalion. What next, Tarantino's Importance of Being Earnest? If that's half as good as The Shape of Things (now revived at the New Ambassadors under the direction of Julian Webber) it would be worth seeing.
We see Evelyn meeting Adam. Within minutes LaBute has alerted us to the multiple meanings of the title: form, design, art, sex "things" and the possibility of a moral order. He also shows us the seed from which the drama of their relationship will grow. Evelyn, wiser, smarter, more confident and determined than the amiable Adam, sets out to see how far she can change him. But is it for the better, and does even she have any idea how her efforts will turn out?
The Shape of Things develops through a series of short scenes against a spare, clever, fluid and suggestive set. (Although this set, by Simon Higlett, is a little simplified from the Almeida production and the music links are now by Fraternity, rather than Smashing Pumpkins.) It would still be wrong to give away the end.
The new cast is excellent. Alicia Witt is compelling as Evelyn, the benign dominatrix, equally convincing as frank girlfriend or patronising academic, even suggesting a touch of something that might be remorse for what she has done. Enzo Cilenti is a believable as the young nerd who knows his Wilde from his Kafka, on his way to becoming an unsuccessful Woody Allen until Evelyn throws the switches on his life. James Murray as friend Phillip is perhaps too much of a dude to be as straight as the text suggests, although he does convey the pain of one man losing another as a friend. Sienna Guillory looks more like the conventional small-town girl, out of her depth when faced with Evelyn's corrosive sophistication.
However, all excel at the quick fire dialogue that LaBute has written for them. But do all young white Americans really talk in this Friends-ified manner, their quips rallying faster than a Wimbledon Final? Or is LaBute making a point about the convergence of language styles? If not, he does have many other points to make, not least of which is the importance of truth in relationships and in art. Evelyn preaches both, but her relativism allows her to be a monster as an artist and a lover. But then, as we survey the closing display we realise her exhibits parallel the scenes we have be watching all this time. Art may be made by monsters, but what about the audience who enjoys it? Clever, uncomfortable and brilliantly staged, The Shape of Things leaves the audience with much to talk about.
This production is directed by Julian Webber and stars Alicia Witt,
Enzo Cilenti, Sienna Guillory, James Murray
Designer: Simon Higlett
Lighting Designer: Adam Silverman
Sound: Richard Price
Music: Fraternity
Reviewed by Brian Clover based on 18th May 2004 Performance at the New Ambassadors Theatre, West Street, London WC2
AN IDEAL HUSBAND: Oscar Wilde
Leicester Haymarket
Runs: 2h 45m, one interval, till Saturday 12 April
Review: Rod Dungate, 6 April 2002
A hard, shiny, powerful production of stark contrasts.
Paul Kerryson, with designer Kate Unwin and lighting designer Jenny Cane, puts his characters very much on show. Brightly lit extended entrances and exits and a stylish mirrored set: Kerryson shows no mercy as Wilde (despite his 'happy' ending) does not either. Kerryson's hard edged production dissects the late 19th Century's mores before our eyes. And just the 19th Century's?
A 'loathsome capitalist age', an age where money equals power and ambition apparently drives all. The temporal context of An Ideal Husband may have changed but this production of it examines our 21st Century world too.
Kerryson unfurls his banner form the outset. Characters parade and preen themselves at Sir Robert and Lady Chiltern's ball the characters all knowingly speak their epigrams, full of self-congratulation and self-admiration. The falseness is unsettling. Public and private personas are starkly contrasted.
Enter super-baddie Mrs Cheveley out to save her own bank balance at the expense of anyone she deems necessary.
Geraldine Fitzgerald's creation is plausible and charming. She stands out from the other women in her smooth ruthlessness, playing the men at their own game. It's true Cheveley is a strong woman, but Fitzgerald allows no ounce of sentiment into her performance: we may admire the actor but despise the character.
An interesting conundrum: she may be bad but what of the others? We are left with a bunch, variously, sanctimonious, self-centred, stupid, conceited, arrogant or spoilt. It says much for Wilde's considerable skill that we are hooked by the drama in this production as robust as ever.
James Murray brings cool distance to Lord Goring. Looking like OW (a bit but not too much), he is a disinterested observer: one who appears even to be looking on at his own good deeds as if they are scientific experiments.
Some fine performances in the company but of particular joy is Dilys Laye's Lady Markby. Her Act II appearance is magnificent as she sits distributing verbal comfits that turn to acid as soon as you taste them. You don't know whether to laugh or wince best do both.
The Earl of Caversham: Claude Close
Mrs Marchmont: Andrea Davy
Mrs Cheveley: Geraldine Fitzgerald
Lady Basildon: Paddy Glynn
Sir Robert Chiltern: Iqbal Khan
Lady Markby: Dilys Laye
Mabel Chiltern: Veronica Leer
Lady Chiltern: Aislinn Mangan
Lord Goring: James Murray
Vicomte de Nanjac/ Mason: Azeem Nathoo
Mr Montford/ Phipps: Gary Pillai
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