Christopher Tester
professional actor & voice-over artist
Reviews & Press
The Alchemist - Rosemary Branch Theatre, Islington
Time Out - Critics' Choice
By Andrzej Lukowski - 30th March 2010
Scarlett Plouviez Comnas must look forward to the day when reviewers stop feeling obliged to make reference to her age, but it's hard to avoid a slight dropping of the jaw at the fact that, aged just 21, this 'Alchemist' represents her second professional production of a Ben Jonson play. Does this qualify the young director as a prodigy? I might not go quite that far: this is a confident, entertaining production, but in some ways it underscores a certain lack of ambition. The modern-dress makeover is rather superficial - how delicious would it have been to set Jonson's tale of smooth-talking opportunists in the world of corporate banking? - and it's somewhat lacking in physical comedy (which is almost exclusively left to Emma Vane's raucous Dol Common).
That aside, this is a fine, funny 'Alchemist', full of big, enjoyable performances. Vane steals the show as much as her limited stage time permits, but there are nice turns from her fellow hucksters: Christopher Tester, a goatish schemer of a face, and Kevin Millington's slimy Subtle, who looks suspiciously like he might have been modelled on Derren Brown. On that note, Daniel Moore's Mammon deserves a mention: it may have been my imagination, but he appeared to be doing quite a nice parody of that other noted bumbler, Boris Johnson
Hackney Gazette
by Jasmine Coleman - 30th March 2010
The Alchemist may be 400 years old but the story is familiar today. It is brought up to date at the Rosemary Branch Theatre in Islington, placing the characters somewhere between the filthy gutters of Jacobean London and the flash con culture of the noughties.
Jonson does not discriminate. He pokes fun at every Tom, Dick or Harry no matter their class. And this production successfully translates the 17th century figures for today's audience. We seea city businessman, a tight-lipped member of the Scottish brethren and a horse-faced young country gentleman, who wears four shirt collars pulled up under his dark green barber.
Theatre of Bray abandons the dark and the dingy in favour of a bright and sparky production, condensing the convoluted plotline into a snappy two hours. Performances are confident and energetic, and the cast's enthusiasm for the slapstick and silliness rubs off on their audience. Emma Vane clowns around as waiflike Dol whilst Christopher Tester and Kevin Millington make a fine pair as Face and Subtle. They lark around the stage reeling off well-rehearsed lines in good timing.
Jonson's script is not easy listening at first, and much of its meaning is lost in the whirlwind. But combined with boisterous performances, polished production and clever characterisation, The Alchemist left me in a state of happy enthusiasm.
by James Richards - 26th March 2010
The hustlers at the centre of Ben Jonson’s play The Alchemist feel remarkably modern considering they’re four hundred years old. Based in a handsome house in Jacobean London, Subtle (Kevin Millington) Face (Christopher Tester) and Dol (Emma Vane) form a trio of ‘cozening’ shysters milking the gullible and preying on the vanity of the rich.
Act one sets off at a furious pace, with Millington and Tester at each others’ throats, duelling, very amusingly, with a whisk and a wooden spoon. Vane serves as the arbitrator, pulling them apart just in time before the first ‘client’ of the day arrives. The physical work (Ruth Cooper-Brown) is convincing and energetic without descending into farce.
Messrs. Millington, Tester and Vane present a startling array of personas, balancing as they do, several schemes at once within the house at the same time. This requires an Olympiad of impersonation: Tester masquerades as a Captain, a butler, a laboratory assistant; Millington as a clairvoyant Doctor, English aristocrat and fiery Baptist minister. Good play is made of the costumes – at one point a missing glove threatens to unravel a finely-wrought conceit, and surprisingly we never feel baffled, despite the cast’s doubling-up and quick-fire exchanges.
Director Scarlett Plouviez Comnas’ previous experience with Jonson (The Silent Woman) is evident in that her cast’s vocal delivery is crisp throughout, and feels naturalistic, especially in Tester’s case. Jonson’s style is altogether less knotty and reflective than his contemporary Shakespeare’s and allow for Millington’s physical abilities to combine well with Tester. Vane’s contribution was excellent when we saw her. Unfortunately, for much of the piece, she is ‘entertaining’ upstairs, off stage.
Perhaps the décor of the set was at odds with the costumes. Yellow and gold floral wallpaper and a pewter tankard point to a period piece, as do the leads’ ambiguous black and white basics. Daniel Moore’s besuited Mammon, a greedy denizen of the upper class, hinted at satire but Alex William’s angry young man, wearing a rugger shirt, pin-stripes and a wax jacket is the first clear indication that we’re dealing with modern equivalents. This happens far too late to be effective, and alongside the Spanish matador’s get-up seems a little ill-conceived.
Side-step these quibbles and you find a rewarding piece. It’s strangely re-assuring that we haven’t moved on much from Jonson’s time. Conmen only survive because people are greedy and like the idea of getting something – fortune, fame, love – quickly and painlessly, and are willing to take part in a fantasy. Mammon, played with relish by Moore, is a piñata filled with gold, easily deceived by Dol’s captivating looks. But he rains insight too; his is the excess to which we are all at some point party. Just remember: if it sounds too good to be true, it probably is.
Hackney Today
by Jane Gibney - 13th April 2010
I always feel a bit sorry for Ben Jonson. For someone who always thought so much of himself and, at the same time, had a bit of a chip on his shoulder, it would be galling to know that he goes down in posterity as a lesser contemporary of Shakespeare. Jonson would never use one word when twenty-five would do, and for modern audiences his persistent use of 17th century slang can be hard going. It was therefore a treat to see this skillfully pruned version of The Alchemist.
The very excellent cast roared through this ruthlessly comic satire of greed, gullibility and confidence trickery, which effectively exposes the trough-grunting materialism, or as they put it, the 'greed is good hustle of the noughties'. The setting was inventive and offered opportunities for comedic coincidences.
Directed by Scarlett Plouviez Comnas, the young actors were constantly on the move - in and out of doors, arguing, attacking, teasing, despairing, showing every layer of society at its worst, and kept the audience roaring with laughter. The team worked together like clockwork. I can't single out any actor beacuse they were so much together, responding and bringing out the comnedic best in each other.
There were some very good double performances. A character would be shoved into a cupboard and the actor emerges moments later, unrecognisable, as a different person. The virtuosity was stunning. This was one-and-a-half hours of splendid entertainment.
by Carolin Kopplin - 24th March 2010
Three con artists – the venture tripartite – take over a
First performed in 1610, The Alchemist is Ben Jonson’s most successful play. It is a cynical view of a world inhabited by people who are practically spellbound with greed and are willing to believe anything as long as it will make them rich. It is difficult to feel empathy with their plight because they are so blinded by their desire to be filthy rich that they actually deserve to be conned.
The Alchemist is a very funny play and the director (Scarlett Plouviez Comnas) makes it accessible to a wide audience although Jonson’s language is more difficult than Shakespeare’s. The production is fast paced and very energetic. The leading actors go a bit overboard at times but generally the cast is very good. Kevin Millington as Subtle is hilarious and there are also very good performances by the gulls – particularly Daniel Moore as Sir Epicure Mammon, Alex Williams as Dapper / Kestril, and Rose McPhilemy as the clergywoman Ananias and Kestril’s sister Dame Pliant.
Macbeth - Broadway Theatre, Catford
by James Green - February 3rd 2010
This is the tenth year of the much-praised south east London theatre. Past seasons invariably present a Shakespearian production and this time the choice is Macbeth - but set in the Spanish Civil War of the thirties.
Director Alice Lacey points up the link between the atrocities of Franco and Macbeth. And for another innovation, the three witches are boys dressed in women’s underthings, played weirdly by Louis Brooke, Joseph Rowe and Rhik Samadder.
The stage is virtually bare, but with props carried on and off for much of the evening, it only needs a modicum of imagination to go with the action.
Gareth Bale as the scheming, murderous Macbeth, indifferent to whose blood is spilt before he becomes king, carries the night. Murder and treason are incidentals on his way to the throne. He acts on the edge of derangement, bloodied by the death of Duncan (you didn’t deserve it Martyn Dempsey, you looked a monarch), and, quite rightly, heads the production. Whether glowering, wheedling, plotting, employing murderers or losing his marbles, Bale earns our hatred along with appreciation for his command of the role.
He is well supported by the Lady Macbeth of Helen Millar. She’s as much a plotting villain as him and such is her playing that she attracts deservedly rapt attention.
Others completing a strong cast are Christopher Tester, George Richmond-Scott, Robert Wilson, Giles Roberts and Emma Deegan. Complaints? Dull openings to both acts and Lady Macduff’s words were lost too often.
by James Fritz - 7th February 2010
Much like its hesitant protagonist, this production of Macbeth takes a while to find its balls. Once it does however, it proves an astute and often thrilling interpretation of Shakespeare's brutal and bloody tragedy.
The setting is the Spanish Civil war, thereby casting Macbeth in a Franco mould that never quite fits. Though flamenco music permeates the dinner scenes and Malcolm's army wear the red bands of the Republicans, the theme - whilst an interesting idea - can't help but seem largely inconsequential to the action. What is clearer is the production's impressive focus on the militarism of Shakespeare's play, examining the consequence of revolution - two times over - as well as the cyclical nature of violence.
Gareth Bale's glowering Macbeth is a panicky sort of creature, and though his performance can at times feel a little one-note - there is never any real sense of Macbeth's hubristic machismo - it is nevertheless highly accomplished. Bale blasts through his scenes at an incredible pace, lending a nervousness to the text and giving the impression of a man constantly trying to escape his own actions.
Landing somewhere between Eva Peron and Eva Braun, Helen Millar also gives a good performance as a calm and determined Lady Macbeth. She is neither cold nor terrifying but measured and practical throughout, a portrayal that ensures that her blood curdling scream in the sleepwalking scene is even more chilling when it arrives.
The choice to cast three cross dressing young men as the Weird Sisters is again mildly perplexing - it is difficult to understand how this fits in with the supposed 1930's Spain aesthetic - but Louis Brooke, Joseph Rowe and Rhik Samadder are highly effective and incredibly watchable, writhing and twisting together to make their scenes thrillingly homoerotic
Christopher Tester is also excellent as a tricky and scheming Malcolm, and clever parallels are drawn in the fourth act that play him as the Lady Macbeth figure to Robert Wilson's likeable but hesitant Macduff.
Proceedings begin on shaky ground, lacking the pace and clarity as we fumble through the last days of King Duncan's reign. However once the play - one of Shakespeare's shortest and most slickly plotted - begins its thunderous march towards its bloody climax, the true horror of Macbeth's grisly reign is captured with electrifying panache. The death of Lady Macduff (well played by Emma Deegan) is appropriately shocking, whilst impressively executed fight choreography throughout draws audible gasps from the audience.
The real gut punch of the evening, however, comes at the end in the insertion of a shocking twist that would be missed by those unfamiliar with the play. Taking such a liberty with a Shakespearean plot is a bold move, but one that is here entirely justified and in keeping with the tone of the production. I can say that - without spoiling too much - Malcolm's final act ensures one leaves Alice Lacey's production thinking hard about the ethics of war and the true nature of tyranny.
by Mark Campbell - 10th February 2010
Shakespeare's Macbeth, directed by Alice Lacey at the Broadway Studio, is an impressively visceral production.
Gareth Bale is a thin-lipped and steely-eyed Macbeth, his native Welsh lilt adding a touch of lightness to an otherwise ferociously serious performance. As his wife, the scheming Lady Macbeth, Helen Millar is a slender figure in a diaphanous white dress who drifts across the gloomy bare stage like a ghost from a Tamara de Lempicka painting. It's an unusual reading of the part, and Millar could have done with a bit more steel in her performance, but it did fit perfectly with the 1930s feel of the piece.
Apparently set during the Spanish Civil War (the programme says much about the actors but nothing about the play), the heavy military costumes are of vaguely Fascist stock while the three Weird Sisters are men dressed in tatty basques and corsets. A disturbing prologue sees the three actors performing a grotesque dance (choreographed by Julia Vandoorne) that parodies sexual congress, self-abuse and torture. The implication is that they are sexual deviants, 'outsiders', with abilities beyond those of ordinary folk. This is a nice idea and could have been developed further after their opening dance.
Emma Deegan is excellent as the pregnant Lady Macduff, a character normally overhadowed by Macbeth's villainous wife. Her brutal and cold-blooded murder is a horrible spectacle. The many fight scenes, under the aegis of Mark Ruddick, are executed with precision and panache by a cast willing to bruise themselves nightly in the name of Art. No concession has been made for the actors' limbs - the floor is unyielding concrete.
As Banquo, George Richmond-Scott is an engaging figure - one of the good guys, in a play with precious few of them - whose bloody appearance as a ghost at the feast is one of the play's most memorable sequences. Bravely, Lacey even tweaks a moment of humour out of the scene as Macbeth tries vainly to protest his sanity to his bewildered guests
At times, the complexities of the language suffers under speedy delivery - the play runs a zippy two hours - but Christopher Tester (Malcolm) stands alone for taking his time with the words and filling every sentence with meaning. A word of praise too for Adam Harper's haunting electronic music which helps create a sense of brooding menace throughout.
Afridiziak Theatre News - * * * *
by Sophia Jackson - 8th February 2010
It’s that play you’re not allowed to name inside of a theatre because it’s bad luck you see, the Scottish one. Macbeth. This was my Macbeth debut and having not read it at school or for pleasure I didn’t actually know much about it. I was free of expectations but was also aware that for many Macbeth is one of William Shakespeare’s finest. Now I know why.
The king is dead, slain by an over ambitious soldier Macbeth who is encouraged by his pushy wife, Lady Macbeth. We follow Macbeth’s journey of self-destruction as his actions result in his world and his death list spiralling out of control.
Macbeth is a tragedy through and through. It’s a play that delves into humanity and the darker side of ambition - the side that can lead you on a path of no return and consequences beyond your control.
Directed by University of Oxford, graduate Alice Lacey, Catford’s production of Macbeth is gripping and enjoyable - a special mention to Helen Millar for her chilling portrayal of Lady Macbeth and Joseph Rowe for playing his role as a weird sister with real gusto. Don’t miss it.
by Matthew Jenkin - 1st February 2010
Wedged between two rows of spotty, hormonally charged GCSE students — Macbeth is still a core text in secondary school English Lit classes apparently — I shuffled uncomfortably in my seat recalling those long torturous hours studying Shakespeare’s classic play during my own school days.
My only experience of seeing the tale dramatised was in a stuffy classroom watching a VHS of Roman Polanski’s 1970s film adaptation, produced by Playboy and starring a cast of shrivelled naked pensioners as the witches.
So, the youth of today should count themselves lucky, firstly to be sitting in a theatre of any kind and secondly to not have to endure the sight of 80-year-old breasts hanging over a steaming cauldron.
As is de rigueur when staging Shakespeare today, director Alice Lacey has transported the tragic drama through time and space, from the soggy highlands of Elizabethan Scotland to the 19th century Spanish Civil War. It is an odd choice and not entirely convincing, but the story’s exploration of blood-thirsty ambition translates to any era.
Here, the victorious general Macbeth is a sort of Franco figure, drunk on his own success in battle and flattered by a prophecy which predicts he will become a king. The murderous machinations of his power hungry wife, hell bent on fulfilling the prophecy, plunge the couple into a dark pit of blood soaked horror, despair and madness.
Gareth Bale’s Macbeth is fierce and terrifying, confidently grappling the Bard’s weighty verse and bringing gravitas to the role. Behind every great man is a woman and Helen Millar’s portrayal of Lady Macbeth as a calculated stateswoman, driven insane by paranoia and guilt, is chilling and disturbing.
Despite staying faithful to the original text, Lacey has taken a few liberties, casting men as the oracular witches, or Weird Sisters in this case. Louis Brooke, Joseph Rowe and Rhik Samadder are mesmerising as the sexually ambiguous trio, slithering around the stage and taunting Macbeth with tantalising promises of power and fame.
Despite a few rough edges, the Broadway Studio Theatre has once again excelled itself for its 10th anniversary year. Macbeth is a slick, professional production which defies its size without trying too hard or feeling superfluous.
Diary of a Madman - Underbelly, Edinburgh Festival
by
Of the two major Gogol adaptations at this year’s Fringe, the leaner by far is not the new challenger – Gecko’s flabby ‘The Overcoat’ – but the returning champion, Fail Better’s ‘Diary Of A Madman’. Not having seen the 2007 production, I can’t comment on how much it may or may not have changed, but certainly there would now appear to be little cause for tweaking this fat-free, claustrophobic descent.
All alone, Chris Tester’s civil servant Axenty Ivanovich sneers and mutters, a bitter man within a darkening garret. Rarely looking in the audience’s direction, and possessed of halting cadence and half-blank eyes, he conveys the unnerving impression that’s he’s genuinely talking to himself, not projecting for a crowd of unseen onlookers. Nonetheless, the real strength of the production – and Gogol’s text – is that despite everything, you don’t quite see Ivanovich’s slip into insanity coming.
The transition between narcissistic inability to grasp his own insignificance and full blown psychotic episode is disarmingly, disturbingly smooth, yet when it happens, it’s clear as the room is murky that this was the only possible outcome. As the date on his wall calendar spirals away to April 43rd and Ivanovich shrieks in outrage at the insolence of his ‘courtiers’, it all feels chokingly plausible.
by Theo Barnes - 8th September 2009
This play and wonderful performance managed to reach into my thoughts and leave me wandering around confused all day. The script achieves great things, putting the audience in the same frame of mind as a madman, and drawing out powerful messages about the balance of the human psyche.
The production is an adaptation of Gogol’s work, where one man gradually drops into insanity – however the point where he becomes insane is never clear. Axenty Ivanovich is a simple civil servant in the court at St Petersburg who considers himself misunderstood genius. While his job is a quill sharpener, he envisages himself as something much greater – a minister and a gentleman at first, but his obsessions eventually take his mind far beyond the realm of plausibility. The audience view snapshots of his mind from his diary, watching while his obsessions intensify and force him into desperate circumstances. Acts of perversion such as invading a lady’s boudoir are portrayed as normality, the madman seeing the world around him change and not viewing the transition within his own head. The man's obsessions and madness see him in conversations with dogs and takes him on an trip to the Spanish court where he believes his true power and potential can be recognised.
The setting is claustrophobic; with the pitch black theatre drawing our eyes to the dimly lit and squalid bed-sit of the protagonist. Small and ingenious methods are used to reflect the decline of his sanity from the irregular calendar on the wall showing sporadic time frames that lose all rationality with dates such as “182 of Martober”. Different clock metronomes blare out in points of tedium and cause the audience to lose all sense of a time scale, transporting us into the environment the madman faces. The lighting on the back wall is perfected to true literary style, reflecting the emotions and settings the man is considering. A wonderful set and a truly spectacular solo performance allow the perfectly adapted script to explore the boundary between selfhood and sanity, demonstrating the stage where people who could be genius simply become insane.
by Lyle Brennan - 29th August 2009
Two centuries after Nikolai Gogol’s birth and two years after Fail Better first adapted his classic short story, this account of mental decline has lost no impact in the interim.
Along with Gecko’s acclaimed The Overcoat, this comes as one of two Gogol works appearing at this year’s Fringe. Here, it finds a remarkably punchy approach in the format of one character, one set and one plot line. The action centres on Axenty Ivanovich, a pencil pusher in the Russian civil service who longs for significance, the approval of his seniors and the affections of an unattainable woman. Sequestered in his bedroom, his struggle with his own powerlessness pushes him into insanity, and what begins as a lucid view of solitude and discontent accelerates into a blur of fantasy, pain and confusion.
Christopher Tester’s performance conveys the transition brilliantly and, despite countless peaks of torment and lunacy, he is at his most compelling in those more ambiguous scenes in which Axelty seems in danger of recognising his own delusions. The staging is strikingly inventive, with Gogol’s nineteenth-century setting reimagined with a stark 1930s aesthetic. The room, initially sterile and pristine, becomes increasingly chaotic before ending up as disheveled and bare as Axenty’s mind. An anglepoise lamp is exploited to surprisingly powerful effect and floods of light transform a window into both theatre and boudoir, while a garbled calendar becomes a wonderfully simple representation of a skewed timescale.
While the full potential of the story isn’t quite fully realised—for example, Gogol’s satirical humour is sometimes eclipsed by tragedy—this is a truly gripping piece of theatre.
by Chris Wright - 20th August 2009
Set in Tsarist Russia, Nikolai Gogol's classic story of a class-conscious civil servant descending into delusion makes an appearance in Edinburgh this year as a one-man play, enacted by Chris Tester.
Immediately the small, claustrophobic staging introduces you to the living quarters of this lonely and neurotic man, preparing you for the intensity of what is to come. Gradually, despair shuffles to the surface and time begins to break down, cleverly conveyed in this production as the patters of daily routine are manipulated into mania.
It's a haunting study of mental breakdown, although one slightly limited by the distant preoccupations of the story's original cultural context (don't mention the revolution, as they say). A powerful and moving piece of theatre.
Breakfast with Emma - Rosemary Branch Theatre, Islington
Time Out Review - * * * * (Critics' Choice)
by Andrew Haydon - 30th March 2009
‘Breakfast with Emma’ is novelist Fay Weldon’s stage adaptation of Gustave Flaubert’s ‘Madame Bovary’. The breakfast in question is an imagined final confrontation between M and Mme B which allows Weldon to recap the major plot points as their row escalates toward its fatal denouement.
With a text that revels in flashback, director Helen Tennison has wisely adopted a playful, fluid approach to the staging: characters emerge from cupboards, out of the fireplace, even from under the floorboards, while background figures twirl in slow motion. The cast do a good job – Fliss Walton’s Emma is every inch the bosomy, lust-driven pre-Raphaelite – but they’re up against a clunkily expository script. Still, adept direction and a galloping pace make an enjoyable evening, albeit one which lacks emotional impact.
Extra! Extra! Review - * * * *
by Rosie Fiore - 15th March 2009
Madam Bovary is a tricky old novel to read in the modern day. Is it a feminist treatise about a woman who struggles to break the bonds of her class and sex? A case history of a classic manic depressive? Is it a tragedy? Or a cautionary tale about what happens when you get above your station?
For those not familiar with the novel, Madam Bovary tells the story of beautiful, convent-educated Emma, a prosperous farmer’s daughter, who marries a provincial doctor. Very quickly, she bores of her mundane life, and her fantasies eventually spill into a series of doomed adulterous affairs. She also runs up a monstrous debt. When the creditors close in, her lovers have deserted her and she realises there is no escape, she commits suicide by eating handfuls of arsenic. Her death is prolonged, ugly and painful.
Legendary writer Fay Weldon wrote this adaptation, which she describes as “variations on a theme of Flaubert’s Madam Bovary. In the programme notes, she confesses her own fascination with the book, describing Emma Bovary as “poor, brave, restless, ever romantic, shopaholic Emma, tragic, trusting and betrayed.” That strikes me as a very sympathetic reading of a difficult character: Emma in the book (and the play), is self-obsessed to the point of mania, capricious, disloyal and unkind. Many might say she is entirely the instrument of her own destruction.
Weldon’s play takes place on a single day, the last of Emma’s life. It is a scene which does not exist in the original novel: Emma and her husband Charles sit down for breakfast and gradually, she confesses her crimes to him, before departing upstairs to end her life. In the book, Emma commits suicide without Charles having any knowledge of what has tormented her. It isn’t until after her death, when he discovers letters from one of her lovers that he grasps what she has done.
In choosing to write this breakfast conversation, Weldon seems almost to turn Emma’s death into a Greek tragedy. From the beginning, she talks about arsenic and tells us she is going to kill herself. If we know the book, we know she is telling the truth. There is a kind of inevitability to the story: as the confessions mount, we are drawn closer to the moment we know must come.
As Emma and Charles’ conversation is the central thread, Fliss Walton and James Burton carry the majority of the play. Walton as Emma veers between conciliation, desperation and hysteria as she confesses: truly a woman at the end of her tether. Burton’s Charles begins the play as a self-satisfied, pompous and condescending man who loves his wife although he clearly doesn’t understand her at all. He ends it a broken man, revolted, disbelieving, but still unable to help her.
They are ably assisted by a supporting cast who play all the characters in Emma’s retelling. A quick glance at the bios of the actors shows that between them they have considerable physical theatre experience. And indeed, the staging, in the tiny space at the Rosemary Branch is nothing short of inspired. As we move into the realms of memory, characters pop out of the sideboard, cupboards, the floor. They ascend ladders and dance in and out of the fireplace. Only Emma herself, trapped in a large, stiff gown, seems earthbound. Ambient sound effects and music add to the tension. It’s always difficult for performers to encourage suspension of disbelief in these tiny pub theatres, but this energetic company weaves a persuasive spell.
It’s a fascinating response to a challenging story, and special performances over the next few weeks will give you the opportunity to debate it with the cast, director and Weldon herself. Definitely worth a trip to this enchanting little theatre (and pub) in Islington.
by M.T. Wents - 22nd March, 2009
A shallow, self-indulgent spendthrift who cuckolds her husband and neglects her child, Madame Bovary, the Emma of the title, must surely be one of literature's least likeable heroines. It is therefore no small tribute to director Helen Tennison and her talented cast that they manage to make two hours in the company of Flaubert's bored petit-bourgeoise and her dullard doctor spouse not only highly entertaining but funny, moving, and ultimately chilling.
When I first saw this play performed by Shared Experience in 2003 I found it a stale, static experience. In contrast, Tennison's deft, witty direction brings the text to life with inventive use of space (characters appear from the cupboards and fireplace of the initially realistic-looking set), and a sure handling of the play's shifts in time, location and tone. Surely this is the production Fay Weldon must have hoped for when she first turned the play over to Shared Experience!
Both leads are excellent, with Fliss Walton bringing a poignancy, depth, charm and even humour to Emma, which may well surprise some fans of the original novel, in a subtle, thoughtful performance. James Burton gets great comic mileage out of Charles Bovary's oafish self-satisfaction, whilst creating a well-rounded character from what could easily have been caricature, eliciting pained sympathy for a broken man even as we laugh at his platitudes and attempts to finish breakfast in the face of the destruction of his world. The supporting cast are cleverly deployed by Tennison to create a multi-textured background to the key dialogue even when not directly engaged in it, and all have a lot of fun with the various grotesques and buffoons who surround Charles and Emma in their provincial village. James Perkins' ingenious set is perfect for the intimate Rosemary Branch theatre, and Tennison's actors, many of whom have physical theatre backgrounds, make excellent use of it.
Imaginative direction and a talented company make the Bovarys and their neighbours surprisingly entertaining company in this hugely enjoyable production.
Faye Weldon's Personal Testimony
The author's verdict on the Rosemary Branch Theatre's production can be found here.
by Aline Waites - 12th March 2009
The Emma of the title is not the Jane Austen one, but Madame Bovary as invented by Gustave Flaubert - which Faye Weldon has fashioned into a domestic confrontation between Emma and her husband. Charles is a poor unsuccessful doctor who had been completely under the domination of his mother until he married a convent educated, beautiful butterfly of a wife. Weldon starts the play near the end of the book with an imaginary breakfast on the day of Emma’s death. The setting by James Perkins is realistic - a country kitchen complete with Welsh dresser and pine table and chairs.
The enormous asset of this play is the humour in which it’s written and the sympathy the author affords the poor clodhopping husband whose wife’s infamy is revealed to him little by little as she seeks redemption for her sins before she is sent inevitably to hell. As she makes her confession, the story is illustrated by acted out versions of the past with lovers and other characters emerging from secret places, through cupboard and dresser doors - even from the fireplace and ladders let down from the attic.
Fliss Walton is perfect as the pretty, capricious and romantic Emma and James Burton the stolid, dull and insensitive Charles, uttering lines that bring bursts of laughter from the audience: “How can you discontented Emma - you have every thing you want - you have me.“ He is truly gross, discussing puss and gangrene during breakfast and tossing her dearly beloved dancing slippers into the fire. He’s convinced that Emma is a domestic goddess despite evidence to the contrary.
There are many amusing set pieces including the outing to the opera when Charles sits oblivious between Emma and her lover as they act out the passions they see on stage.
The performance runs smoothly due to the great rapport between the two principal characters and the others in the five strong company who play multiple roles. This is a well acted and directed adaptation of a favourite story which could be much improved by a little judicious cutting.
Hackney Gazette - Preview - Tuesday 10th March 2009
Blue/Orange - Tobacco Factory and tour
Christopher (an utterly believable Colin Dunkley) has been placed in psychiatric care for 28 days under Section 2 of the Mental Health Act. It's the day before he's due to leave and his doctor, earnest trainee Bruce (Christopher Tester), is keen to detain him for further assessment. Department head Dr Smith (Chris Bianchi) insists that Christopher, who claims to be the son of former Ugandan dictator Idi Amin, will become institutionalised.
As each doctor's agenda unfolds and Christopher's fantasy becomes increasingly plausible, the play hurtles between questions about mental health policies, ethics, institutionalised racism and whether oranges are indeed orange, or blue. It's a lot to cram in, but Joe Penhall's skilful writing means this never feels didactic. Seven years after it won an Olivier Award, Blue/Orange remains as gripping as ever.
Thursday 18th September
A trio of testosterone-powered protagonists. Humourless, earnest Doctor Bruce who is convinced mental health patient Chris is a suicidal danger to society, and smooth consultant Robert, who wants to free up a bed by discharging Chris early.
Essentially, to quote Robert, Joe Penhall’s blistering argument of a drama “comes down to semantics”. It’s how the two white medics interpret vulnerable black fantasist Chris’s language and how he sees the world. Chris in turn fails to understand their banter, jokes and the post-colonial prejudices of the noughties.
With just a water cooler for company, and some chairs, Danielle Bassett’s set looked like any office meeting room. Funny, witty and always to the point, director Sam Berger unleashed the cast and let them slug it out to the compulsive, gurgling, bubbling end.
Christopher Tester as Bruce was suitably unspeakable, Colin Dunkley as Chris was unsettlingly convincing as the sectioned patient, and Chris Bianchi enjoyed himself as the suave careerist Robert who had all the best lines and represented all everything that’s wrong in the NHS.
Harry Mottram
Gloucestershire Echo - * * * * *
"SHADES OF GREY – AND BRILLIANCE"
The Everyman Studio, Cheltenham
Tuesday 7th October 2008
I have hardly ever afforded a performance a standing ovation. That I should do so surrounded by an audience of little over a dozen enthralled spectators makes such an occurrence even more remarkable. Moreover, the three outstanding actors even enjoy the luxury of those privileged few stepping forward to shake their hands in deserved congratulation. Yet after savouring this quality production of Joe Penhall’s sobering take on the National Health Service, is it any wonder?
Throat-grabbing from the start, BlueOrange is a darkly comical but explosive satire on an institution hidebound by procedures and populated by individuals jockeying for importance and academic recognition. It should also be playing to full houses in the Everyman’s main auditorium.
Christopher is a disturbed, though perceptive, young man on the eve of his release from 28-day Section 2 order. He believes he is the son of erstwhile Ugandan dictator Idi Amin, and that the oranges sold from his White City market stall are blue, strange ideas hardly conducive to his cause. Squabbling over his immediate and long-term future are idealistic fresh-faced psychiatrist Dr. Bruce Flaherty and world-weary senior consultant Dr. Robert Smith. The three-way verbal tug-of-war is intensely absorbing, thought-provoking and so convincing, it is hard to believe that there is even a script at all. Indeed, the intermittent fluffed lines merely add greater realism to this sharply-observed and brilliantly performed piggy-in-the-middle match.
Ultimately, Sam Berger’s taut production prompts profound reflections on our own muddled preconceptions on race and mental illness, frequently borders on the cathartic, and makes for quite exceptional viewing.
Simon Lewis
Metro Preview
Blue/Orange explores the dark side of the mind
With plaudits for previous work Breathing Corpses still ringing in its ears, Plain Clothes Theatre's production of Joe Penhall's award-winning Blue/Orange opens tonight at the Tobacco Factory. Although he's clearly a believer in setting high standards, director Sam Berger seems unfazed. 'I guess the only pressure is to keep to the standard up. I want to make the best piece of work I can, but funding is tight.'
Its south-west tour of Blue/Orange marks PCT's first venture outside the single-venue format, with Berger putting it down to an attempt to reaching wider audiences.
'A lot of people think theatre is boring,' he continues. 'If I read a play and I'm excited and engaged enough to get all the way through it, that's a good sign that in performance it should have that element as well.'
Exploring the darker recesses of the human mind, Penhall's script centres on a mystifying psychiatric patient called Chris (played by Colin Dunkley), who claims to be the son of an African dictator. With his release imminent, the two doctors looking after him have very different agendas.
'There's an interesting dynamic between the characters, and the struggle between them is an engaging thing to watch,' explains Berger. 'One doctor [Robert] wants to release him and one wants to keep him there. It hints at institutionalised racism and shows that the doctors have ulterior motives. The doctor who wants to let Chris go is writing a paper on these issues, and the younger doctor [Bruce] wants to keep him there as he's new and wants to make a good impression.'
Remaining faithful to the original narrative, there are also moments of humour. Much of the wit stems from the relationships between the characters, and Berger's skill in fashioning such a multilayered piece displays his obvious enthusiasm for staging contemporary plays.
Although Berger is optimistic about PCT's future output, there's a catch. 'There are a few other plays I'm interested in: one called The Pillowman by Martin McDonagh, and a show called Terrorism by The Presnyakov Brothers. Blue/Orange is a small cast so it's easy to tour, but these others are quite big shows in terms of casting so, as is always the way with small independent companies, it just depends on money.'
Diary of a Madman - Rosemary Branch Theatre, Islington
Time Out * * * * (Best Fringe Show 2007)
By Tamara Gausi - 10th September 2007
Proclaimed by the British Medical Journal as one of the first, and most explicit portraits of schizophrenia in literature, ‘Diary of a Madman’ isn’t just an extraordinary sketch of one man’s insanity. Written in 1834, Nikolai Gogol’s dark, comedic short is also a pithy depiction of the gnawing tedium of life six links from the bottom of the administrative food chain. And it’s made painfully familiar in Fail Better’s accomplished, one-man performance.
Through a series of diary entries written over the course of a year, it tells the story of Axenty Ivanovich (played by an enchanting Christopher Tester) a class-obsessed, middle-ranking civil servant in Tsarist Russia whose ascent to imagined greatness coincides with his descent into madness. The play begins with humorous pedantry – it takes several minutes of obsessive tidying, rigorous clothes-folding and pencil-over-blank-page-hovering before Ivanovich utters his first words. But the laughter soon gives way to something more sinister. An unrequited crush on his superior’s daughter seems to trigger a latent psychosis, culminating in a series of disturbing, albeit imagined events (the murder of a talking dog that ruminates on his desperate position, his discovery that he’s actually the King of Spain) before he is committed to an asylum.
Under Jonathan Heron’s terse direction, Tester (who adapted the text for stage with Heron) offers an absorbing performance in this Beckettian drama, even if he doesn’t appear as comfortable in despair as he is in comedy and frantic derangement. Aided by Dave Thwaites’ clever lighting design, Nomi Everall’s cut-away bedroom set perfectly captures the claustrophobic mania that envelopes the affecting narrative, a reminder that madness sits dangerously close to us all.
Tamara Gausi , Mon Sep 10
Shepton Journal - 06/09/07
Western Gazettee - 6/09/07
