Theatre review: Earthquakes in London
A lot of London theatres have been massively redesigning their auditoria for specific productions in the last couple of years, a trend which the National Theatre, which has a third studio theatre designed specifically for the purpose, has rather fallen behind on. It's playing catch-up in style though with Earthquakes in London, for which the Cottesloe has a very different look. Only a couple of rows of the usual seating remains, on either side of the balcony levels (I was here; not quite by choice, as at the time I booked my ticket the configuration hadn't been finalised, so I was sent a voucher then allocated a seat later) while the entire pit level now looks like a nightclub: An S-shaped traverse platform runs through the room alongside which more audience members sit on stools, as if at a bar. Built into the other two walls are small raised stages where the more domestic scenes take place. No huge surprise that the designer is Miriam Buether, who's becoming much the specialist in these kind of audacious redesigns.
The play had its Press Night last night so I deliberately avoided the reviews, although I bet a lot of them mention ENRON, as, like that play, this sees Rupert Goold and Headlong commissioning an epic piece of theatre tackling a major current issue. It's climate change this time around and the writer is Mike Bartlett, whose Cock I saw last year¹. The word "epic" is bandied about a lot in the programme but it's not wrong, this is a sprawling, apocalyptic story with several strands that come together as the play progresses. At its centre are three sisters, Sarah the Environment Minister (Lia Williams,) heavily-pregnant Freya (Anna Madeley) and rebel-without-a-cause Jasmine (Jessica Raine.) Until now I must have missed the fact that the brilliant Bill Paterson is in this as well, which is exciting - as their dad, he's a scientist who, in the 1960s, was one of the first to predict Global Warming. Geoffrey Steatfield is the male eye-candy and has a shower scene at the start (don't get too excited, a pesky shower curtain gets in the way of any scrolling alerts) while Goold must like Tom Goodman-Hill, who as Sarah's husband comes straight to this from ENRON - although presumably Buether has chillier feelings towards him, judging from the succession of ghastly footwear he's made to wear.
Earthquakes in London is about as upbeat as you can get for a play that posits that we're a couple of decades away from environmental armageddon and basically living in a Mad Max film, and it's pretty much too late to change that. (The set's nightclub theme refers to a comment in the play about the world being like Berlin in Cabaret, drinking and partying to forget the upcoming horror.) Bartlett's play has some excellent moments and while overall it works, its epic nature borders on amorphousness. It's not lacking in direction in the way that the disastrous Love the Sinner was on the same stage earlier this summer, but it does wobble a bit. It's also nearly three-and-a-quarter hours long, so much longer than his Cock² and something to consider if you're thinking of getting a £10 standing ticket. Goold however saves the day, and the first half in particular is often breathtaking - unfortunately I'm constantly doing what I said the papers would do and comparing it to ENRON, but it shares that show's sense of taking the sensibilities of a big musical and applying them to a straight play about a serious matter. There's a lot of dance and/or movement sequences where the cast sing along to pop songs, and despite a couple of digs at Coldplay one of the night's most electric moments is soundtracked by "Viva La Vida" (it helps that they picked the only Coldplay song I actually like.)
The large cast are great, often making the most of very small parts - some real scene-stealers include Anne Lacey's po-faced Scottish housekeeper and Maggie Service's condescending shop assistant. In the first half I was pretty sure I'd want to make a return visit, (incidentally there's a great cliffhanger into the interval) but there's rather less of the big Gooldian touches after the interval, which means the story's lack of focus is laid bare a bit more. And given the brilliant stage design I found myself thinking there was too much going on in the more conventional mini-stages and not enough on the S-shaped central platform. But while the overall structure is sometimes a bit shaky, there's no doubting Bartlett can write the hell out of an individual scene, and he works here in a great variety of styles - ultimately the play's only real failing is that a lot of varied elements don't quite hang together. If I gave out stars it would still be a solid four though, and there's nothing else quite like it in London at the moment.
Earthquakes in London by Mike Bartlett is booking until the 22nd of September at the National Theatre's Cottesloe.
¹his writing a play called Cock was a gift to people who like terrible puns, so now that play's run's over it's nice to have an excuse to revisit the gag. Expect more before this review is finished
²told you so
The play had its Press Night last night so I deliberately avoided the reviews, although I bet a lot of them mention ENRON, as, like that play, this sees Rupert Goold and Headlong commissioning an epic piece of theatre tackling a major current issue. It's climate change this time around and the writer is Mike Bartlett, whose Cock I saw last year¹. The word "epic" is bandied about a lot in the programme but it's not wrong, this is a sprawling, apocalyptic story with several strands that come together as the play progresses. At its centre are three sisters, Sarah the Environment Minister (Lia Williams,) heavily-pregnant Freya (Anna Madeley) and rebel-without-a-cause Jasmine (Jessica Raine.) Until now I must have missed the fact that the brilliant Bill Paterson is in this as well, which is exciting - as their dad, he's a scientist who, in the 1960s, was one of the first to predict Global Warming. Geoffrey Steatfield is the male eye-candy and has a shower scene at the start (don't get too excited, a pesky shower curtain gets in the way of any scrolling alerts) while Goold must like Tom Goodman-Hill, who as Sarah's husband comes straight to this from ENRON - although presumably Buether has chillier feelings towards him, judging from the succession of ghastly footwear he's made to wear.
Earthquakes in London is about as upbeat as you can get for a play that posits that we're a couple of decades away from environmental armageddon and basically living in a Mad Max film, and it's pretty much too late to change that. (The set's nightclub theme refers to a comment in the play about the world being like Berlin in Cabaret, drinking and partying to forget the upcoming horror.) Bartlett's play has some excellent moments and while overall it works, its epic nature borders on amorphousness. It's not lacking in direction in the way that the disastrous Love the Sinner was on the same stage earlier this summer, but it does wobble a bit. It's also nearly three-and-a-quarter hours long, so much longer than his Cock² and something to consider if you're thinking of getting a £10 standing ticket. Goold however saves the day, and the first half in particular is often breathtaking - unfortunately I'm constantly doing what I said the papers would do and comparing it to ENRON, but it shares that show's sense of taking the sensibilities of a big musical and applying them to a straight play about a serious matter. There's a lot of dance and/or movement sequences where the cast sing along to pop songs, and despite a couple of digs at Coldplay one of the night's most electric moments is soundtracked by "Viva La Vida" (it helps that they picked the only Coldplay song I actually like.)
The large cast are great, often making the most of very small parts - some real scene-stealers include Anne Lacey's po-faced Scottish housekeeper and Maggie Service's condescending shop assistant. In the first half I was pretty sure I'd want to make a return visit, (incidentally there's a great cliffhanger into the interval) but there's rather less of the big Gooldian touches after the interval, which means the story's lack of focus is laid bare a bit more. And given the brilliant stage design I found myself thinking there was too much going on in the more conventional mini-stages and not enough on the S-shaped central platform. But while the overall structure is sometimes a bit shaky, there's no doubting Bartlett can write the hell out of an individual scene, and he works here in a great variety of styles - ultimately the play's only real failing is that a lot of varied elements don't quite hang together. If I gave out stars it would still be a solid four though, and there's nothing else quite like it in London at the moment.
Earthquakes in London by Mike Bartlett is booking until the 22nd of September at the National Theatre's Cottesloe.
¹his writing a play called Cock was a gift to people who like terrible puns, so now that play's run's over it's nice to have an excuse to revisit the gag. Expect more before this review is finished
²told you so