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Fringe 2009 Reviews (31)
The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie
By Muriel Spark, adapted by Jay Presson Allan
Royal and Derngate, Northampton, and Assembly
Assembly Hall
***
There is some irony that this production of a play that is so much
an evocation of Edinburgh should have originated under the direction
of Laurie Sansom at the Royal and Derngate in Northampton.
Anyone portraying Dame Muriel Spark's ultimate schoolteacher must inevitably
compete with memories of Dame Maggie Smith on film and Fiona Shaw at
the (London) National Theatre.
Anna Francolini plays the liberated fascist worshipper as a Morningside
Margaret Thatcher with lots of eye-rolling, a style that might be more
effective beyond the front rows.
The girls witness a woman several decades ahead of her time, advocating
free love and artistic education for her girls, the crème de
la crème. They idolise someone who treats pre-teens as would
be adults but overlook her weaknesses with fatal results.
We witness Jean B toying with two men, Jamie Newall as loyal Gordon
Lowther and father of five Teddy Lloyd. This feckless, one-armed charmer
is played by the pick of the actors, Dugald Bruce Lockhart. He toys
with Jean B but doesn't stop there, eventually bedding Natalie McConnon's
Sandy, whom we learn in flash-forward becomes a nun.
The underlying story is strong, looking not only at education but also
politics in the boiling pot that was 1930s Europe.
The girls, augmented by local extras, have great fun singing and dancing
rather too much in a two-hour production on which Sansom makes a big
directorial mark, sometimes at the expense of the story.
Philip Fisher
The Lost World
By Arthur Conan Doyle
The Paper Cinema and Kieron Maguire
Scottish Storytelling Centre
***
The Paper Cinema recreates Conan Doyle's tale about a journey to a
forgotten land where dinosaurs still live using its fascinating live
animation techniques.
The story takes us from a lecture on natural selection into the South
American jungle, as four men set out on an expedition to search for
the continuing existence of prehistoric animals, each for his own reason.
They are chased by frightening creatures, haunted by animals of the
night and then return home to report their findings – and there
is even a love story in there as well.
The story is told without any words at all as two puppeteers manipulate
black and white pen sketches in front of a camcorder and a desk lamp
which are projected onto a large screen on stage. Characters in different
poses and expressions and changing backdrops float across the screen,
and there are some wonderful transitions between scenes as we are taken
through windows or into pictures or books. The whole piece is accompanied
by music and sound effects played live by Kieron Maguire.
The problem is that although the technique is fascinating and the skill
of the drawings and the manipulations of them is undeniable, it doesn't
always do a great job of telling the story and, even at just forty-five
minutes long, it did not hold the attention of the adults or the children
in the audience and dragged quite a bit long before the end. This is
not helped by the music, which is pleasant and atmospheric and again
skilfully created and performed but is also very repetitive.
The result, sadly, is a show that is more to be admired than enjoyed,
which is a shame after the huge amount of work and artistry that has
obviously gone into its creation.
David Chadderton
Barflies
By Charles Bukowski, adapted by Ben Harrison
Grid Iron
Traverse at Barony Bar, Broughton Street
**
Charles Bukowski is one of those cult writers whom few have read, probably
almost none without artificial stimulants to aid understanding.
Grid Iron are masters of the site specific with a string of hits under
their belts, played everywhere from a playground to a department store
and even an airport.
They make the most that they possibly can from a writer who is not
easy. Keith Fleming plays Henry, a writer whose sole interest is alcohol,
though he can bear the odd time out in the sack (or on a table) with
an attractive woman.
The female sex is represented by Gail Watson, who proves adaptable
in a series of drunken roles.
Unless you are very drunk, even supported by gravelly-voiced pianist/barman,
David Paul Jones, the repetitive text is not strong enough to support
90 minutes but the staging in a subtly altered pub bar is as good as
ever.
Philip Fisher
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