| Submitted by: Evelyn C. Leeper United States |
| Submission Date: 11 February 2005 |
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After a quick dinner at Ground Round, we arrived home about 10:30 PM. And so ended our whirlwind London theatre tour.
THE END
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THE SECRET OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
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A theatre review by Mark R. Leeper
Copyright 1989 Mark R. Leeper
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There was a time when if you said 'Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson,' people automatically pictured Basil Rathbone and Nigel Bruce. To be honest, I was never fond of Rathbone in the part and Nigel Bruce was an irritatingly bad choice for Watson. Happily we are past the days when Rathbone is so closely associated with the part. Today more people would picture Holmes as the brilliant and neurotic and quirky sleuth as portrayed by Jeremy Brett. There is no question in my mind that he is the best Holmes I have seen.
Brett and his usual Watson (Edward Hardwicke, the son of Sir Cedric Hardwicke) put on a two-man show in THE SECRET OF SHERLOCK HOLMES. The play might almost be called 'Holmes 101.' Threequarters of the play consists of Watson's memories of Holmes at his oddest. All are familiar to me from one source or another, even with my minimal reading of the original stories. Watson remembers meeting Holmes, Holmes's ignorance of basic cosmology, Holmes's affection for Irene Adler.
It is not until the second act that the play starts giving us anything unfamiliar and original about Holmes and Watson. The speculation then made about Holmes does vary from Arthur Conan Doyle's intention but is well within the range of speculations that have been made before. Suffice it to say that Holmes's secret is less than totally unexpected.
But where the play fails to give us anything very novel to add to the Sherlock Holmes mythos, it does do a great deal with the relationship between the two men. Holmes's snobbish disdain and condescension toward Watson ironically alloyed to his genuine affection have rarely been shown in so rich or concentrated a dramatic form. Again, no real surprises here, but the relationship is well expressed in the acting, making for a pleasant if not totally enthralling evening.
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A theatre review by Mark R. Leeper
Copyright 1989 Mark R. Leeper
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There is an old adage that says well begun is half done. Well, clearly with METROPOLIS somebody began well and then went to lunch and never came back. The first ten minutes are almost worth the price of admission. The last ten minutes, on the other hand, more than offset the first and it's the last ten minutes that people will remember as much as they'd like to forget them.
METROPOLIS is supposedly based on the 1926 Fritz Lang film and admittedly there are a few undeniable similarities in the plot, but not enough. On the face of it, adapting the Fritz Lang classic to the stage seems doomed from the start. METROPOLIS worked by the scale of its production: its huge sets, its cast of thousands, and its spectacle. Its story and its human drama were weak and the plot really makes no sense. In short, its weaknesses were precisely the things you might do well on a stage, but its strengths are precisely what would be lost by transition. One can do all sorts of amazing things on the stage, but adapting METROPOLIS does not seem as if it is one of them, and even less so after seeing this attempt.
Lang's film, inspired by seeing the New York City skyline and presumably by reading H. G. Wells's future history works, tells a story of a world stratified into an effete ruling class living above ground and a working class living below ground in slavery-like conditions. The play goes a step further, claiming that with Earth's resources depleted, the city has returned to human labor. Interesting, though since almost all the labor we see done could be done far cheaper by silicon chips, the slavery takes on the aspect of charitable make-work.
The city is ruled over by John Freeman (Frederson in the film), who hatches several plots more cruel than logical to maintain his control. One of the joys of the film is his relationship with the mad alchemist/scientist Rotwang, a fine screen villain. The play replaced Rotwang with a mousy scientist here called Warren. If the name 'Warren' seems less intriguing than the name 'Rotwang,' that is just how the characters seem. This play is not big enough for two villains, so sadly the film's most interesting character is lost. The play is built around Freeman's villainy and a tyranny that knows no bounds. At one point he seems even to be able to choose who the best-liked poop-stars will be. I can imagine what would happen if New York mayor Ed Koch tried to start dictating who would be the popular recording artists in New York City. Freeman is played by Brian Blessed making the best of a badly written role. When the script calls on him to sing a solo while blowing up his own city, even his best is not sufficient.
Freeman's son--here called Steven--is supposed to look sympathetic and appealing, so he has been dressed unimaginatively to look like Rod Stewart in a jacket with rolled sleeves. Judy Kuhn plays Maria and the robot Futura. A better actress could have been the focal point of the whole play, but she is just not quirky enough somehow as the robot and not particularly inspiring as the leader of the worker activists.
Visually the story has been scaled down and elements of cheap science fiction scripts have been added to fill the vacuum. The most successful piece of scaling is the huge machine set that opens the play. One machine 20 feet high with two levels of walkways virtually fills the stage. It is rumored that they needed to excavate under theatre to add extra support under the stage. The film's huge elevators have been replaced by elevator tubes, which are used as often as the script would allow. To simulate the electronic effects of the film, especially the creation of the robot, laser lightshow effects are used. These are mostly prosaic loops of light and figure-eights. However, since the scene is filled with dry-ice mist, it is rather obvious that they are being projected and where the laser is. The film's water effects are replaced by unoriginal fireworks a la VOYAGE TO THE BOTTOM OF THE SEA. And speaking of the tired and overly familiar, the introduction of high-tech stormtroops seemed gratuitous.
The music for this extravaganza was provided by Joseph Brooks, whose greatest credit to this point is the song 'You Light Up My Life.' For METROPOLIS he wrote a very similar song, 'You are the Light,' which is clearly intended to be another smash hit. One way you can tell is at the end of the play everyone in the cast, live characters and dead one, joins together in a chorus of 'You Are the Light.' It's just that kind of play.
One of the ushers quoted a critic as saying that in the play 'the only thing that works are the lifts.' I cannot improve on that assessment. And when you cannot improve on something, it is best not to pretend you can.
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A theatre review by Mark R. Leeper
Copyright 1989 Mark R. Leeper
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I have a very bad memory when it comes to Shakespeare. It is difficult for me to remember for long that I really like and enjoy Shakespeare plays. I usually go into them wondering if I will be able to figure out what people are saying and if the story will be of interest. And of course I rarely find a Shakespeare production that I do not find I have thoroughly enjoyed and for which my fears were groundless.
Derek Jacobi is, of course, masterful as Richard II, who made the mistake of believing that God wanted him to be king. He uses that belief as license to do much as he pleases as king, making enemies as he goes. When one of his banished enemies returns to England intent on deposing him, Richard's reaction is one of incredulity that mere men could so oppose the manifest will of God. He soon finds out, however, that kings can be deposed and that God is quite willing to let it happen. Richard's almost childlike feeling of betrayal and regret form the emotional core of the play.
Jacobi's performance is powerful and very emotional, though occasionally his tendency to spit when he talks is a bit distracting and probably is unwelcome by his fellow actors. Still, it is clear that it is Jacobi that the audiences have come to see and the play is mostly his performance.
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A theatre review by Mark R. Leeper
Copyright 1989 Mark R. Leeper
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The setting is the strategic arms limitation talks in Geneva. The discussion is in its usual state of being bogged down by minute details and the Soviet negotiator has suggested to the American negotiator that the two of them take a walk together in the woods. This is the first of four short walks dramatized in Lee Blessing's play A WALK IN THE WOODS. The American negotiator is a new man, John Honeyman, a human oaken stick, stiff, formal, wooden, even stuffy, but dedicated to finding a way out of the nuclear dilemma the two superpowers find themselves facing. In marked contrast to his business-first professionalism is the style of Andrey Botvinnick. The Russian seems simple and likable, a bit ironic, but is maddeningly evasive on the subject he is negotiating. He wants to know the man the Americans have sent, not the proposal. He prefers to discuss country-western music or Mickey Mouse to nuclear arms.
Structured much like the play SAME TIME NEXT YEAR, A WALK IN THE WOODS visits characters in pretty much the same setting in each of its episodes and gives us a view into how they (or at least the American) change over time. The four walks we see take place at roughly three-month intervals, so we see the woods go from summer to fall to winter to spring, and we see how the American changes under the strain of trying to negotiate for one of the two superpowers who do not want to be bargained out of their arms race.
In the West End production at the Comedy Theatre, John Honeyman is played by Edward Herrmann and Andrey Botvinnick is played by Sir Alec Guinness. I know that Guinness is twenty years too old for the part (by the age of most negotiators and by the age stated in the published play), and I don't give a darn. He is a great actor now and is an indelible part of the history of film and theatre. And I have actually seen him live on stage. So there! But enough bragging.
The play is about two things: It is about the Cold War attitudes of the two superpowers and it is about the two men and how each copes with the stress of a job both know is vital but also doomed to failure. The audience goes into the play naturally enough hoping the negotiators will succeed and disliking Botvinnick for his obstructionism, but Botvinnick is a remarkable character, extremely well-written and Guinness is better. The Russian's natural wit as expressed by Guinness immediately wins the audience to his side. He realizes that both sides are vitally interested in 'the quest for the appearance of the quest for peace' rather than in peace, and it is his adaption to that fundamental hypocrisy that is the real core of the play.
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A theatre review by Mark R. Leeper
Copyright 1989 Mark R. Leeper
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Some plays get better treatment than others when adapted into films. AMADEUS was far better as a play than as a film. At least the performance I saw was superior to the film. This was decidedly not the case for the Royal Shakespeare Company's production of LES LIAISONS DANGEREUSES. Louis Hilyer's Vicomte de Valmont with a perpetual three-day growth of beard was hardly believable as the super-seductive cad. Penelope Beaumont seemed young for the part of La Marquise de Merteuil, though her performance was every bit as good as that of Glenn Close in the film, and Amanda Royle might even have bettered Michelle Pfeiffer's lackluster performance as Le Presidente de Touvel. But overall the performances could not match those of the film, nor recreate the spectacle. The play seemed simply a redundant experience after seeing the film
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A theatre review by Mark R. Leeper
Copyright 1989 Mark R. Leeper
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Simply put, I have the feeling I missed the point of SINGLE SPIES and cannot in fairness pass judgement on the quality of the play. I did not greatly enjoy SINGLE SPIES. The play is really two short plays, each involving a famous mole in British intelligence. 'An Englishman Abroad' is a dramatization of an actual meeting in the Soviet Union of Guy Burgess, defected spy, and Coral Browne, British actress. They spend an uncomfortable hour or so together, then Browne returns to England and tries to procure for Burgess a suit and some pajamas. This was the more interesting of the two plays.
'A Question of Attribution' follows Anthony Blunt in the period after he has been discovered to be a Soviet agent but before it has been made public. Blunt, who holds the position of Surveyor of the Queen's Pictures, is questioned by a boorish security officer with a budding interest in art. Blunt then goes to the Palace where he has a long, dull conversation with a somewhat ditzy and vacant Queen Elizabeth. The conversation is, however, fraught with double meanings concerning Blunt's odd position of unrevealed traitor. It is unclear if the Queen is aware of his crimes or not.
If there was more going on, I missed it. Seemingly a pointless play.
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