Mike Bartlett has made a bit of an art out of notions of the counter-factual future. In The 47th, he grounds his flights of fancy in the knowledge of institutions, people and political tides.
Alan Bennett’s Habeas Corpus gets a belated revival at the Menier Chocolate Factory. Stuck in the past, should it have been left in the past too?
The Exorcist is a little flabby, even at a short 100 minute running time, and it never matches the nerve-shredding tension of the movie version, but there are sufficient scares to get the blood pumping.
The Hunt, a striking stage version of Thomas Vinterberg and Tobias Lindholm’s 2012 film, is full of intensity.
Michael Grandage’s revival of Red may only be 90 minutes, but there is no sense of rush here, and instead the play – much like Mark Rothko’s creations – is given room to breath, to slowly come into focus as a true picture emerges.
We worked a few scenes during the audition run, including the iconic movie moment where Regan spins her head around. I made sure I told our director Sean Mathias that my neck was extremely flexible!
Is God female? It says a lot about Yaël Farber’s pompous and overblown new version of this biblical tale at the National Theatre that, near the end of an almighty 110-minute extravaganza, all reason seemed to have vacated my brain, and its empty halls, battered by a frenzy of elevated music, heaven-sent lighting and wildly gesturing actors, were suddenly open to the oddest ideas.