13, National, Olivier Theatre

13, Mike Bartlett’s new play at the National Theatre is not the best show to see if you suffer from nightmares already, which I do... it is intended to scare. Set on an intimidating stark stage, it is another dreary morning in London: students are rioting, war is looming and everyone is waking up from the same identical haunting dream, but no one knows what it means.

Most obvious to me is the similarity of 13 to Bartlett’s earlier work, ‘Earthquakes in London’ which received rave reviews last year in the National’s Cottesloe Theatre. 13 feels like yet another play depicting the discontent and gloom of modern society, showing London to be a depressing well of misery and debating the political unrest for far too long. But whereas Earthquakes in London was slick and illuminating, 13 doesn’t say anything very new.

After a fast paced and eventful first half, the second half is weak and dull in comparison. Focusing solely on the impending war, the other issues thrown up at the beginning are left unaddressed and unanswered. We are left watching a stale and dragging political conversation and I walked away feeling dissatisfied and disappointed.

I went to the first preview so allowances must be made for some imperfections and the cast mostly acquitted themselves well. Adam James is suitably self involved as Mark the disillusioned lawyer, he is distracted by the recurring nightmare and desperately searching for an explanation, his rapidly escalating terror is captivating to watch. Lara Rossi as student Holly is memorable, she strides about the expansive stage and looks at home at the National. Terrifying, frank young Grace Cooper Milton is astounding as Ruby, despite being the only child in the cast she, at times outshone her onstage parents with her convincing tone and presence.

It is a big cast and a challenging play to produce for director Thea Sharrock, but I feel her vision just isn’t as inspiring as Rupert Gould’s impressive production of Earthquakes in London. It is also not helped by the vast stage, the Cottesloe's scale added to the impact of Earthquakes, here in the huge Olivier all the intimacy is lost.

13 Continues until 8 January, 2012, book here.

Emperor and Galilean at The National, Olivier Theatre

You probably haven’t heard of the play ‘Emperor and Galilean’... I hadn’t before I booked tickets a few months ago. This epic historical drama by Henrik Ibsen was written between 1868 and 1873 and was described by the playwright as his most important work, and yet very little is known of it. In fact the National are the first to take on the brave task of staging it in English.

The play instantly poses many tricky challenges: the original work comes in the form of two plays, consists of ten acts lasting over eight hours in total and the drama takes place over dozens of years and spans thousands of miles of land. The National commissioned Ben Power to write a new adaptation of the piece. Power overcomes all these tests in his engaging adaptation, condensing down Ibsen’s masterpiece into a more manageable three hour performance.

The drama follows the life of Julian, ruler of the Roman Empire from AD361-363. As the nephew of the Roman Emperor Constantius he is under constant restraints in Constantinople. An intelligent young man he is desperate to escape and explore, and when his older brother, Gallus is assigned the role of Caesar, Julian is free to go to Athens. Discovering the allure of worshipping ancient pagan gods, Julian leaves behind belief in Christianity, and consequently his devoted friends too. Personally he struggles constantly with the Christian-Pagan debate, seeking advice and approval fromthe elderly Maximus. Eventually he is crowned Emperor, abolishing Christianity in flavour of Paganism.

It certainly is a tour de force – a cast of over 50, and at least 10 scene changes it is quite a sight to behold. Jonathan Kent has done a brilliant job directing this play, presenting us with a performance that is fluid and imaginative and surprisingly easy to understand. In fact this version of ‘Emperor and Galilean’ is not even very Ibsen-esque, and I enjoyed it a great deal more than I expected to.

Andrew Scott takes on the vast role of Julian and is on stage almost non-stop for the whole performance. The emotional energy he brings to the role is impressive - he gives a passionate and intense depiction that is needed to make such a complex character convincing. Also admirable is his ability to transform and mature so effectively, growing from the pale scrawny teenager, to a great Emperor decades later. Brilliant too is the interaction between Julian and his three friends, his genuine anguish when he decides to leave them is terribly moving and affecting. There is strong support for Scott from the rest of the cast: Nabil Shaban as the cruel Emperor Constantius, and Ian McDiarmid as a menacingly persuasive Maximus. John Heffernan as Peter and Jamie Ballard as Gregory both provided some light against Andrew Scott’s shade, as two kind but feeble friends of Julian. Not every actor was to my taste though. James McArdle was irritatingly limp and monotone as preacher Agathon and Genevieve O’Reilly was ridiculous as Helena, the quiet girl who, after eating a poisoned peach, rips her clothes off and wriths insanely across the stage.

It is a deeply poignant play, and Power’s version only emphasises this more, highlighting the powerful man’s struggle with himself and his beliefs. A few stunning performances and some awesome visuals create an overwhelming performance that deserves a large round of applause at final curtain call - certainly more than my audience gave it, who pathetically seemed to be half asleep by the end.

Emperor and Galilean continues until 10 August 2011, book here.

Cherry Orchard at The National, Olivier Theatre

‘The Cherry Orchard’ is Anton Chekhov’s final play, and has become one of his most familiar. Translated many times over, it is now regarded to be a classic all over the world. When I arrived for the first night of the National’s new production of the play I was aware that I was in the minority, having not seen this play performed before. The work is lengthy, as is much of Chekhov, and with very little storyline it is easy to get lost in the words and endless speeches, I felt quite dazed by the end. It doesn’t help that the character names are so difficult to distinguish to untutored ears.

We were lucky to be sitting in good central circle seats that only cost £5 each, thanks to the National’s brilliant entry pass scheme, and could see the huge stage well. The wooden set is simple but stunning and alludes perfectly to a picturesque Russian country estate. Aside from aesthetics, designer Bunny Christie has managed to create a real atmosphere and character with her insightful vision.

Ranyevskaya, a Russian aristocrat arrives back at her family home with her relatives and friends. The house includes a large and well-known cherry orchard that holds many memories for the family members. Unfortunately the land must be auctioned to pay off a mortgage debt. The family do very little throughout the play, talking about the importance of love and life and wandering about aimlessly or having a party. The property is eventually sold to the wealthy landowner, and the family leave to the devastating sound of the orchard being chopped down.

Zoe Wanamaker is the star appeal as glamorous Ranyevskaya, lady of the house, and on opening night she was truly worthy of her status. Wanamaker sweeps the stage with such charm that you can’t help but smile. Her features are quite similar to a cabbage patch doll, and there is something particularly endearing about her expressive face. Confident and assured, she gives a wonderful performance, at times hysterical. She is surrounded on stage by a brilliant cast; an excitable Charity Wakefield as the beautiful younger daughter Anya and Claudie Blakley, who is perfectly prim as the fastidious adopted daughter Varya. Of the smaller parts, it is Sarah Woodward that really stands out as jovial performer Charlotta.

Whether to define ‘The Cherry Orchard’ as a comedy or tragedy often causes debate, and it is a decision each director can determine in their portrayal. The final saddening moments of the National’s production reflect the overall contemplative feeling of the show, as we watch the poor old man struggle alone whilst everyone else has left the house and cherry orchard behind.

Cherry Orchard continues until July 28, book here.

FRANKENSTEIN at The National Theatre

Danny Boyle’s Frankenstein is probably the most talked about play this season, an adaptation by Nick Dear of Mary Shelley's classic novel. The central pair: creator (Victor Frankenstein) and creation are unusually cross-cast, with Benedict Cumberbatch and Jonny Lee Miller playing both roles, switching each night. This is, of course to represent the cruel duo as one, though it is a strategy that causes some debate. Reviewers were invited to both alternatives to grasp the effect of the idea... Lee Miller seems to have come out on top, receiving all four star reviews. It is an interesting concept, but one that I believe can compromise the quality of a performance, after all can an actor be as convincingly in character if he is having to constantly switch. And if Lee Miller is better as the creature why not keep it that way every night? I saw him in this role and suspect it to be the preferred casting, but with not enough time to see the vice-versa line-up, I will never know.

The NT press team is not keen on niceties, with the theatre at the top of its game there is a tendency to be arrogant. They can be as brash and brutal as they want and the majority of their shows will still sell out. I experienced a curt unkind woman first hand and it rather deterred me from spending a fortune on Frankenstein tickets. I’d almost completely given up hope of seeing this heralded production when my friend mentioned the standing tickets obtainable from the box office on the day. Last minute tickets are a crafty way to secure seats in popular London theatres but usually it is necessary to queue for hours. I was sceptical that it was possible to procure tickets for Frankenstein this way, but after holding on the phone for a manageable ten minutes I was through and two minutes later I had booked and paid for two £5 standing tickets for that evening's performance - hurrah! I’m not one to update my facebook status every half hour, but my jublilation at my success lead me to notify my friends that I was one of the lucky few with a hot ticket to the latest theatrical phenomenon.

For the first ten minutes the stage belongs to ‘the Creature’. We watch a man being born out of a circular contraption that looks like the skin of a giant African drum. Once broken through he scrambles about on stage naked and dirty like a deranged toddler. With no speech, the audience watch in amazement as he thrashes himself against the floor struggling to walk; it should be painful to watch but Lee Miller acts with such realism and compassion that I began to wish the sequence would continue. Soon this spellbindingly physical scene is curtailed by a steam train rolling steadily towards the audience, and the rest of the play is underway.

We do not meet the Frankenstein family for a good while, meanwhile we see the creature acclimatising himself to the world, and with the help of a kind blind old man (beautifully played by Karl Johnson) he becomes more human, even beginning to feel emotion. Benedict Cumberbatch is immediately powerful on stage, it is something about his mannerisms and the intense furrowing of his thoughtful face.

The soundtrack accompanying the action is impressive on many levels - as you enter a heavy bell tolls in the centre of the auditorium, throughout there is melancholic guitar playing, beggars wailing a chorus and an atmospheric frequently returning melody. This reminded me of the introduction of Ave Maria, memorable but with a sadness that submerges your mind. The set has a gothic punk feel, and reminded me slightly of the expansive scenery in ENO’s Parsifal. Scene changes are frequent and swift with sets flying in and the central part of the stage rotating round, all very otherworldly. It is a tour de force from Mark Tildesley, who previously designed His Dark Materials.

The intensity of both Miller and Cumberbatch would make the show exceptional which ever way round they were playing it, but there is something about the raw energy of Miller that makes him just that bit more animalistic. The rest of the cast cannot compare, and appear a little bland against these stars, it doesn’t matter though as no-one is looking at them.

Bizarrely in the car on the way home from the National, Danny Boyle was presenting on Radio 2, so after seeing his tremendous show we listened to him interviewing too.

Call the box office after 9.30 am (on day of show) to get £5 standing tickets for Frankenstein – 0207 452 3000. And if you’re between the ages of 16-25 it is well worth signing up to the NT Entry Pass scheme - it is free to join and you can then book one of the £5 tickets allocated for all shows, and you can bring a friend along for only £7.50.

Fela! at The Olivier Theatre at The National

I have mixed feelings about Fela!, the new musical that is currently showing at the National Theatre, on the Olivier stage. This vibrant show is all passion and politics and tells the life of Fela Kuti, Nigerian musician, human rights activist and political maverick.

The show is unlike anything I’ve ever seen at the National before. It is an explosion of colour and noise, the whole theatre is adorned with pictures, lights and projections. As the audience walk in, the exuberant band is already jamming away on stage, it is like walking into another country, and has a carnival-like atmosphere. The high level of energy and spirit continue right through the three hour show, which eventually became quite exhausting to watch. I would like to have seen a little more variation of tone; it would have perhaps made the intensity a little more manageable.

The action takes place at the Shrine, in Lagos, 1978 where Fela is giving his final concert. This musical feast tries to cram in the entire span of this revolutionary’s fascinating life. His upbringing in London, and then his return to Nigeria where he strives to make a difference with his music. We see the impact of the dreadful death of his mother, which haunts him throughout the story and are also made aware of his infamous womanising. I felt the narrative to be a little muddled and the incessant dancing (as brilliant as it is) slightly takes over the story. The show is long, and by the two hour mark I started to get restless and a little bored.

The star of the show is Sahr Ngaujah who gives the performance of his life as Fela. Nagaujah comes straight from playing the role in the original Broadway production. He really is as extraordinary as the legend himself, singing and dancing across the stage, playing the trumpet and sax phenomenally and even joking with the audience with an alarming ease and charisma. During the performance he gets the audience up on to their feet to sing, dance and join in with the Clock pelvic thrusts – it was hilarious to see the National crowd attempting this move! Nagaujah is supported on stage by Melanie Marshall as his sweet voiced mother, and Paulette Ivory as the American girl who wins his heart. The rest of the company is equally energetic, and it is exciting to see the players having such a good time, even if that is running amongst the audience screaming at the top of their voices. The band is spectacular, how they played continuously for such a length of time is a marvel to me.

Fela! continues at The Olivier Theatre until 23 January 2011, book tickets here.