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Showing posts with label michael brandon. Show all posts
Showing posts with label michael brandon. Show all posts
Saturday, June 4, 2016
Saturday, June 4, 2016
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Oh my god, it's 'the Dude'! Jeff Bridges! Okay, well, he's not actually on stage (he appears via Skype). And okay, the Skype calls are pre-recorded video, but still, Jeff Bridges! This clever bit of technological gimmickry proves to be the best thing in Neil Koenigsberg’s Off the King's Road, a mildly diverting dramedy finding its way to London after a 2013 Off Broadway run.
Set in a townhouse hotel called 'Off the King's Road', we follow Californian Matt Browne (Michael Brandon) as recovers from the death of his wife. They were happiest on holiday in London, and so he's here half to focus on their best memories and half to begin the healing process. Aided by his psychologist (Jeff Bridges), he plans a visit to the Tate Modern, pops valium, inflates a blow-up doll, takes long walks in the park and revisits Ingmar Bergman's classic Wild Strawberries.
Surrounding him is; obsequious hotel clerk (Luke Pitman); a cat lady widow in the room down the hall (Cherie Lunghi); and Sheena (Diana Dimitrovici), a Russian sex worker in whose lap Matt finds a prized moment of peace.
The individual components of Off the King's Road are all serviceable enough, but the play as a whole never quite gels. From the get-go there's an obvious rift between the sincere emotional journey of the protagonist and the somewhat Fawlty Towers-ish goings on in the hotel. That rift only widens as things develop, leaving a gaggle of underwritten comedy archetypes on one side and a naturalistic hero on the other.
Most unfortunate is Dimitrovici's entirely unconvincing sex worker, though her problems are no fault of the actor. She's written as an experienced working gal with cards in phone boxes all over town, brusquely demanding cash before the action begins and constantly tapping her watch to remind her client that 'time is money'. Yet she acts with surprised incomprehension when Matt explains that he just wants to talk, or offers her a bracelet as a present. Granted, what I know about sex work comes from TV, film and the theatre, but it just feels wrong that Sheena wouldn't have seen behaviour like this a hundred times before.
On top of that, Sheena's arrival kicks off a distracting subplot that, as far as I can see, doesn't make sense. Soon after gifting her the bracelet, Matt has it returned to him via a brick tossed through his hotel window, apparently by Sheena's angry offstage pimp/jealous boyfriend(?) Rocco. I'm not a fan of nitpicking and plot holes, but while it's later established that Rocco knows which hotel Matt is staying at, how on earth could he know which window was his? On top of that, why would a pimp be upset at a client giving Sheena a present? If Rocco is a jealous boyfriend, then why is he dating a sex worker? As Rocco remains off-stage for the duration, we never know.
Stuff like that doesn't cripple a play, but it does distract from the largely competent central narrative of a man getting over his wife's death. Matt isn't a groundbreakingly complex character but Michael Brandon makes him a generally likeable and pleasant to be around. It's easy to feel a twinge of sympathy when you contrast the private moments in which he wrestles with his personal demons and the generally upbeat persona he presents to the rest of the world, especially when he confronts his own vulnerability towards the end of the play.
But it's Jeff Bridges that really makes things spark. These actors are all competent professionals, but Bridges is a straight-up genius and it shows. The three scenes in which Matt chats to him are easily the funniest, most human and just downright enjoyable moments in the whole play. It's cheating a bit to have an entirely pre-recorded stage performance, but as the illusion that Bridges' character is live on Skype is airtight, the play gets away with it.
Perhaps Off the King's Road is worth it if just to enjoy the novelty of (sort of) seeing Jeff Bridges on the London stage for a relative pittance. Aside from that this is an amiable enough play whose negatives are just about cancelled out by its positives.
★★★
Off the King's Road is at the Jermyn Street Theatre until 25th June. Tickets here.
Saturday, January 16, 2016
Saturday, January 16, 2016
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Though the stage is dominated by acid greens, floral pinks and blown-out yellows, there's only two colours that count in Paul Minx's The Long Road South: black and white. We're in Indiana, 1965, the very beating heart of suburbia. These are the dying gasps of Eisenhower's vision of America; the moment when the cultural dominance of the white nuclear family began its achingly slow retreat.
The story pits a dysfunctional Price family against two black servants desperate to make their way to Alabama to join the civil rights movement. The Prices comprise ulcer-riddled meatpacker Jake (Michael Brandon), his perma-soused depressive wife Carol Ann (Imogen Stubbs) and their slutty teenage daughter Ivy (Lydea Perkins). Offstage is Ben, a child ominously confined an institution.
Squaring off against them are the sturdily noble and devout Andre (Cornelius MacCarthy) and his partner Grace (Krissi Bohn). Grace is passionate about the civil rights movement, perceiving it as an ongoing narrative in which she's determined to play a part. Her fierce class and racial consciousness bristle against her job as domestic servant to the Prices.
All she wants to do is get the hell out of there and hit the road with Andre. But first there's the matter of their pay for the summer. But getting what's theres proves to be difficult, especially when the family begins to messily implode.
The Long Road South covers fairly well trodden ground in 1960s suburbian. Then again, this is fertile dramatic territory; a repressed land of stifled sexuality clad in ugly floral patterning. But unfortunately, the Price family are a pack of premoulded stereotypes. The performances are all relatively faultless, but it's difficult to get emotionally involved in what quickly prove to be clumsily defined caricatures.
Sadly, these problems extend to the heroic servants. The intelligent and forthright Grace should theoretically be a heroic character, yet suffers from a confusing backstory and has pretty much zero romantic chemistry with Andre. He's no great shakes either, a tangled mire of sub-Tennessee Williams cliches - a violent alcoholic redeemed through Christianity yet struggling with his innate violent tendenci...blah blah blah. You know how this one goes.
On top of this, there's a tonal inconsistency that mercilessly smothers nuance. In one scene we might be cringing our way through an absurdly cranked up portrayal of teenage sexuality, with Ivy flashing her arse all over the place at the nonplussed Andre. The next might be an impassioned statement on how dignity of the working man extends across racial boundaries.
Any interesting observations on racial discrimination (Andre's child being taken into protection, police brutality, Grace's past homelessness) are steamrollered into oblivion by the Price family's cartoonish antics. Consequentially, though the play wants to show off its political consciousness, it's far too unfocused a piece of writing to have anything interesting to say.
Worse, the moments it does succeed are in broad comedy. By far the most entertaining character by far is Imogen Stubbs' reeling and dissolute alcoholic. Playing to the audience, she camply exclaims "I don't drink... I imbibe!" as she swooshes about, gradually defoliating a mint plant as she demolishes a bottle of rum. While she's undoubtedly fun, it's as if Patsy from Absolutely Fabulous has wandered into an otherwise serious play on racial politics. This makes the later moments where we're required to take her seriously a little hard to swallow, to say the least.
It's a disarticulated script, and as it rumbles towards its conclusion any sympathy for those involved gradually evaporates. Compounding that is a predictable narrative, developments appearing on the horizon and inexorably trundling their way towards us.
The Long Road South isn't a complete disaster but it is mediocre as hell. Is it drama? Is it comedy? Who cares. It's over-cooked stodge either way.
★★
The Long Road South is at the King's Head Theatre until 30 January. Tickets here.
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