Wuthering Heights
Theatre Royal
Emma Rice returns to Brighton Festival with her new company Wise Children with this wonderful production of Wuthering Heights. Set on the wild and windy Yorkshire Moors is tells an epic story of love, revenge and redemption. Rescued from the Liverpool docks as a child, Heathcliff is adopted by the Earnshaws and taken to live at Wuthering Heights. He finds a kindred spirit in Catherine and a fierce love ignites. When forced apart, a brutal chain of events is unleashed.
The singing in this production is astonishingly good, full bodied, passionate, gripping us in its emotional tension, throwing us up and holding us carefully in the depth of the lows, Lucy McCormick and Liam Tamne lead the company their voices possessing and filling the spaces of the Theatre Royal and are excellent along with atmospheric background vocals and movements being provided by a trio of voices providing interesting reactive to the action unfolding before then.
The diverse cast give us a real insight into the different worlds of Brontës masterpiece along with the use of puppets for younger kid characters with different actors speaking, allowing a textured feel to the projection. It feels much ‘bigger’ than it is. The scene transitions are astonishingly slick and fluid, the whole set seems to shudder, heave and suddenly we’re elsewhere, elsewhen. I’m a fan of a slick set, and the props and level of details bringing atmospheric touches to every moment of action on stage. Doorways and windows being represented in writhing, turning portals, experiences from both sides, allowing for some fun physical acrobatics.
There are some bonkers abstract props, I adored the chairs on chairs on wheels, but even these abstract touches are given meaning and weave themselves into the whirligig of activity on the stage, the books on broomstick birds delighted me.
Director Rice gives us a cast in top form, who glide, sing, dance, jump, place and act with a refined grace which renders everything feeling natural and unfolding in front of us for the fist time. For those who are new to Bronte work, or know if through film or parody or Kate Bush the narrative can be a touch slow to speed up, but once the tension is building, it’s a pumping wheezing full-speed-ahead engine of narrative direction. Time is flexible in this production allowing the stories of key characters to be explored in break out scenes which allow us to understand their actions later in their lives.
The dancing is on point and precise throughout, with the whole cast turning moments into delights and shining in their own ways, you often hear of a ‘toe tapping’ musical, Heights is that, with the whole row in the stalls alongside me tapping away with the dance number, the band members interweave their playing with interacting with the dancers, giving an authentic tavern or village fete feel to the action. It’s a real whirl of movement and music.
We are served a wonderful big dramatic ending to the first half which leaves the audience stunned and not quite sure if it is time to seek refreshments.
With most of the action taking place inside the houses from the books, Wuthering Heights being the most famous one, we are given a dark staging of old spaces. There are times when this can obscure some of the action . The sound effects are good with big impacts, the storms of the moors being evocatively represented, with the winds and rains forcing themselves in when the doors were opened.
There’s some light audience participation, a lovely moment one of the case dancing and shimming along a row in the stalls, to the audiences’ delight. The same actress playing a rather eccentric character, the son little Linton became a real stand out character with weaving the audience into the action, gently picking on people and filling the space with bizarre movement. Death is treated in an interesting way, a Dr walks on with a blackboard with the departed named on, following on from the confusing plot explanations at the beginning, a rather fun poke at Bronte’s mass of interwoven characters.
It’s nice to see credit given to stage staff and production crew at the end of production and just highlights the cooperating and coproduced energy that this thrilling ensemble bring to the theatre.
If you’ve not seen Emily Brontë’s masterpiece on stage, then witness it here transformed into a powerful, uniquely theatrical and musical experience, with Rice’s trademark playfulness and attention to detail. This is a brilliant performance of precise choreography, full on show tune celebrations , some reflective moments of defined melancholia, a set that thrills and rich colorful Victoriana and African influenced costumes. This spicy melange of talents are all drawn together by Rice’s direction allowing you to sit back, allow your attention to be enthralled and royally entertained.
Till 21st May
more info or to buy tickets see the Brighton Festival Website here:
It’s a beguiling combination of music and style Fennessy’s new work bolding picking up motive’s and echo’s whilst holding it’s own space and place. I was enchanted in the ways that the singer’s used Fennessy’s new pieces to answer the plaintive lyrical articulations of the requiem, adding depth to the reflection of the music. The crisp annunciation of the funeral German was precise and allowed the music to follow the complex changing patters of single voice and ensemble. The pairing lulled me into a reflective state of contemplative bliss and the concert passed in the blink of an eye which seemed to last for eternity.
I adore the opportunity to bliss out and as I was wrapped in the pure voices of the consort, bouncing ideas of mortality and immorality back and fore, over and under, though and part of, my mind dissolved into the complexity of this extraordinary masterpiece. It’s pairing of chant and solo, or harmonic and single voice, of pairings and sharing is sublime, evoking a strong sense of belief and humility before struggles of fate and destiny. With Jan Waterfield & Peter McCarthy’s mournful and perfect continuo playing this was a treat, as dusk fell and the voices rose, my soul fluttered.
Traditionally there have been forms of witchcraft which have placed a great emphasis on fertility and the balance of male and female. The books intention is to address this heterocentric perspective and suggest an updated way for Queer men to support their pagan practice.
This practical guide empowers everyone who identifies as male to take his rightful place at the centre of his own universe, honouring the unique qualities that set him apart from the mainstream. Emphasizing the importance of sexuality in Witchcraft, this book features a variety of methods for celebrating sex in a magical way. The exercises are straightforward and easy to perform and deftly include working with many familiar symbols regularly used by Queer communities (the rainbow and the triangle for example)
In depth and from a pagan perspective he explores gay archetypes such as bears and drag queens, and also examines queer gods and ancestors. Faerywolf brings an understanding of historical pagan tradition to this book, parsing and explaining the development of ideas and rituals, exploring ways of making them fully inclusive and removing sometimes centuries of bias and deliberate erasure of queer lives.
There is a refreshingly frank and uninhibited exploration of using sexuality in magic and as part of a spiritual practice, emphasizing the importance of sexuality in Witchcraft, and featuring a variety of methods for celebrating Queer sex in a magical way.
There are far too few books of working-class gay life, and few celebrate the emotional depth of Queer lads like The Whale Tattoo does, allowing this small-town boy to grow to a man and although berated by life and refused opportunity by resentful family, society or love still finds precious moments to cling on to and rise to the surface of this murk. Joe is an amazing Queer character, fully fleshed out, we live in his mind, feel each hesitation and grasp with his hands on reeds and rotting logs to keep buoyant in this landscape dominated by anguish & loss. We feel the vibrant lust of Joe’s sexual experiences, the urgent, furtive grubby warmth and his longing and recognition of the brief moments of intimacy he shares with Tim Fysh an old lover and local fisherman. We feel his bold hopes, we know his thoughts, the books’ narrative drumbeat keeps us close to him, next to him, feeling his breathing, anticipating his thoughts. It’s disturbingly intimate but feels utterly authentic.
The book is a magical exploration of grief and love, but so rooted in a physically real world as to shock. I’m sure every time I opened it, I could hear the seagulls wheeling overhead and smell the tang of brine. Ronson’s remarkable ability to capture a moment of beauty wrapped up in fractured unreliable memories of lives lost is a disturbing delight. As we learn more of Joe’s relationship with his Father, his dead sister who he still talks to every day, and his longing, lust and love for Fysh, his lover. It’s complex and reflects, hugging the stillness of silent rockpools in moments which feel like they are eternal, before crashing down into sexy opportunistic reality. The world unfolds like fronds of buoyant seaweed once more afloat and waving. What seemed piles of green reeking weeds reveal their natural beauty. This is an unforgiving book, with no excuses offered up in its observations of this young Queer lads’ hard life, but deep in the belly of Ronsons Whale we are offered the redemption of hope and the story takes us by the hand and pulls us up and out of the abyss.
This is billed as a site response immersive experience and if you’re not familiar with Brighton then I imagine this will bring an extra sense of peeking behind the scenes, of secret connections and layers of history, of being smuggled around the city in the fabric of its grand buildings. A feeling of paranoia is generated, everyone is watching everyone, who can really be trusted, although this can be easily misinterpreted. Panoptic can segue to pervy with a wink. The fit bloke, in the very tight jeans and a chequered shirt outside the Theatre royal wasn’t cruising me after all, although he might want to reconsider that level of intense unbreaking eye contact on a Brighton street in the evening…
As we are ushered out once again, in small groups, through different doors, we gather in a room of screens, many people; agents of the state telling the exact same story. A line of talking heads give us narratives of how families, people and children are failed by the institutions means to save them; health care, education, social housing, justice. Hurt people hurt people. Maps on the walls show countries ripped apart by civil war and internecine conflicts.
The small cast act their hearts out and are supported by two very simple sets; a cut away back-to-back northern terraced house opened to us like a dolly house and a simple but surprisingly effective drop down working man’s club variety act curtain.
Shobna Gulati portrayal of brassy life loving, borderline alcoholic mother Mari Hoff’s to LV’s whisp of a daughter is a tour de force in the swinging roller-coaster of life with a manic alcohol-dependent working-class woman. Gulati doesn’t play for sympathy and her character is a manipulative, angry, desperate person, but we get to see the broken tenderness at her core, the damage wrought by abandonment and although unredeemable Gulati allows the broken dreams of Mari to evoke empathy with us. At points she’s positively Shakespearean in her rage at life’s lot, had the bard harked from Oldham…
Fiona Mulvaney’s Sadie is fun, played with a hint of opportunistic menace and delight but with real charm. With little dialogue Mulvaney’s physical comedy spoke wonders, but I winced at many of the dated & unpleasant jokes aimed at her appearance, Ian Kelsey’s tricky , double dealing Ray Say is greasy and charming and his manipulation and grooming of LV to do his bidding is genuinely creepy. There’s some light comic relief and emotion connection provided by Akshay Gulati’s Billy and the Phone engineer from James Robert Moore. William Ilkley as northern club owner and stage host Mr Boo is wonderfully fun evoking a perfect working man’s club ambience in the rather camp foofoo surroundings of the rococo Theatre Royal, the audience adored him, all nudge nudge, but no wink wink it was an interesting contrast to the ingrained misogyny in of the rest of the writing.
The setting of the play in the tough socially challenging times of working class 1980’s reflects todays hard times, it’s a savage representation of working class hopes smashed, and lives wrecked by early deaths, unspoken desires and alcoholism. It feels like two plays have met in a bar, got a bit drunk, and forgot to untangle, when it shines Little Voice is brilliant and Bianco’s voice lifts the play way way up, but then when the miserable grubby grasping family drama restarts again, we lurch onwards into despair and hopelessness, no amount of gurning or great acting can save us from that. It’s a curious combination, like flicking between Xfactor and Corrie endlessly, and it left me feeling slightly disturbed as I wandered into the night.
The acting in this tightly written piece is wonderfully accurate and on point. Entitled accents, dreamily drifting around, privileged teasing, chauvinism and colonial arrogance are all on show, and skewered by dialogue and studied pose. There’s plenty of laughter, physical comedy and the funnies are delivered with style. I’d forgotten how nasty the play becomes in the end and there’s some brutal exchanges as the narrative moves on. Nigel Havers and Patricia Hodge sparkle and spark in their dueling, each as fabulously bad as each other, and each convincing in their portrayal of people allowing destructive battling passion to rule hearts and minds. Natalie Walter and Dugald Bruce-Lockhart as the rather naive, younger and much less experienced respective new spouses, Sibyl and Victor serve up delightful anxious, whining foils. Aïcha Kossoko as the maid Louise brings big laughs to a small part and a touch of sophisticated sarcasm as ‘the help’ who’s seen it all, her eye rolling was perfect.
As an examination of a negative relationship generating long-term bickering and the decent into frustrations of hurt people who hurt people it’s fascinating, as a period piece of witty British theatre it’s delightfully and flawlessly presented and as some gently theatrical entertainment it still maintains its power to shine. This 90 year old script shows its age in places but with a slight change of emphasis some of the out of date attitudes are presented in a less flattering, daft light. A comedy should generate laughter and there was plenty of that at the Theatre Royal last night and the audience seemed very pleased with the performances on stage.
It’s a three act play and works well in the theatre royal, the second set a breathtakingly beautiful piece of Parisian Chinoiserie and Art Deco furnishings, lighting and decoration done with impeccable taste and period details. A really wonderful set which works to underscores the voluptuous decadence of these two wonderful dreadful protagonists.
There are some peculiar elements in the event, but then Dr Who is a pretty odd show in the way it often deals with moral and emotional problems that can’t ever have an easy resolve. Time Fracture sticks with that, so don’t expect an easy answer in this show, but do expect to be challenged and have to do some thinking about what you will (or won’t do) to save the Universe.
Costume and sets are fun, with superb attention to detail papering across the faint cracks, high production values always help tip the audience over into participation in any kind of immersive experience and in a world like Dr Who where people are often passionate fans with deep connections to the places, plots and characters presenting them in an engaging way will help support a fun experience. After an intro, and some frenetic scene setting, we all make choices on where to go, ending up in a different part of the story which quickly start to melt together. This is done with humour but with a real narrative tension, keeping us focused in having to discover what’s happening and finding out the ‘thing’ that need finding. There’s a large off-world market ( with a bar) full of characters from the last 15 year of Dr Who, who all may, or may not, hold important elements of the plot.
It’s gloriously confusing chaotic fun, the well-trained team gently helping the action along, making sure everyone feels included and getting a few key folk to engage more deeply. There’s an odd lack of agency here, but as most of the folk were invested in the Dr Who universe this didn’t appear to be too much of a problem for them, but it annoyed me slightly as the experience continued.
Half way through the show there’s a break, we are gently moved into the next space, and basically locked into a large intergalactic bar for some real drinks and toilet stop, it’s an interval with a show! As the bar jumps though space we get serenaded by two blue glittered singers who were exceptional. We sipped a cocktail and singers Imelda Warren Green and Khadija Sallet seduced us with their amazing range and emotional connection. A lyrical languid smoky blues version of Radio head’s ‘I’m a creep’ really impressed us. It was an unexpected treat to have such superb singing thrown in alongside the Whovian fun and really added to the value of the experience.
My companion; a newish Whovien (who sports a rather flashy tattoo of the Tardis swirling though the time vortex on his calf) enjoyed himself. Felt confident to take part, and engage with the characters, plot and often pointed out details that he’d noticed. There were some Old Skool Dr Who fans, people up for silly fun, Super Fans- their gaspingly delivered knowledge of intricate plot detail was handled deftly by the (outclassed) actors and a few young people. This wide range of experience of the Whovien universe is knitted together by talented space management, plot development and keeping groups small and in touch with a key characters. We all did different things, had different experiences, but in the same spaces. When done well immersion is exciting, TimeFracture is genuinely thrilling. There is always a nagging feeling of missing out, when so much is happening around you.
You must be logged in to post a comment.