A piece of my recent work as a voice-over artist, I’m the pencil in this promotional video for AAT (something to do with accountancy, don’t ask).
“Have you been reviewed by a major publication recently, James?” I hear you ask. Well since you enquire… no. Nonetheless, I was rather pleased with what Mumsnet (a tough crowd, as any politician will tell you) had to say about my work in Snow White:
So if you’re reading this, Mr. Evans, P.E. teacher, I am funny and I will make something of myself even if I can’t remember my trainers on football days, and if you still disagree, you can take it up with Mumsnet.
Not quite so exciting this time, doesn’t say anything about me really, except “gruff” and “passion for pies”, which pretty much sums me up.
Broadway Baby reviewed Sisters, which I took a key part in this year. It wasn’t generous to the show itself but it had some nice things to say about some of the cast and me in particular.
So perhaps I’ve missed the boat on Propeller, the all-male Shakespeare theatre company. Well, yes, of course I have, everyone’s been going on about them for years and I’ve only just seen them (there’s definitely a pun in “missing the boat” and “propeller”, by the way, I just can’t see it right now, answers in the comments thread please). In the sense that this is a review I could drag out the verdict to the end but I really can’t be bothered, they’re really very good (not good enough for a “blown away” pun though). I didn’t like Twelfth Night, now I do, so they didn’t do badly.
Their angle on Twelfth Night is creative and fun if not ground breaking. But really, what ground do we really need to break with Shakespeare? A great show is a great show. Their all-male cast no doubt continues to agitate some but, as my first view of an all-male Shakespeare, I was really rather pleased with it. The female characters generally allowed me to forget that they were men in dresses. I mean, they obviously were, I wasn’t going to be swaggering up to them in the bar afterwards, but with my suspension-of-disbelief hat on (it’s purple) I really was drawn in and comfortable with these men-as-women, perhaps the more so because it was a comedy. I didn’t entirely buy Joseph Chance as Viola, but “a man playing a woman playing a man” is perhaps just one step too many for my tiny mind.
In a comedy I generally gravitate to the buffoon, but nonetheless I must say that I felt that Vince Leigh’s Sir Toby stole the show somewhat and I’m now going to chase him down and see what he’s in next as he has quite the stage presence. Liam O’Brien had a great time with Feste as well (oh dear, I really am just going for giggles aren’t I?). There were times (one moment in act 2 scene 5 stands out) when they played it OTT and the moment was spoiled slightly for me, but generally speaking it was pitch-perfect comedy, well acted. The pace and energy were high throughout and I hardly have a critical word for any member of the cast.
The staging was excellent, although slightly hampered by their first performance on a raked stage (scenery on wheels with no brakes). A few simple items of scenery are arranged and rearranged to create a surprising variety of environments. It’s a small complaint but once or twice I found myself spotting things in the wings through mirrored props. The ensemble are used to good effect to bring the scenes to life and keep things busy, their costumes making them pleasantly anonymous and thus non-distracting in their masks.
The use of sound throughout was marvellous. The whole ensemble played an instrument of some form or another at some point and it added to the atmosphere wonderfully, although again there were times I felt it was distracting and I found myself thinking about the sound rather than the lines or watching the ensemble member with his instrument rather than the actor doing his thing. These were rare moments and I wouldn’t sacrifice this vital element of the show to improve my concentration for a second.
One criticism which may seem silly to many; I’m a little tired of the “yellow stockings and crossed garters as cross-dressing” gag that everyone pulls on Malvolio in modern interpretations. We get it, men don’t wear stockings or garters any more, but when this was written they did and the script doesn’t hold up too well when a company plays it up as a perversion. It’s a lazy, cheap gag and it breaks the production for the time it’s used, every time it’s used.
Overall I’ve been rather impressed by my first experience of Propeller and will certainly be chasing them up again in the future. This is a well paced, entertaining and thoroughly worthwhile take on a 400-year-old play that is worth anyone’s time. They’re touring Twelfth Night with Taming of the Shrew now. I saw them at the Rose in Kingston and if you can find a ticket unsold for the near future (The Rose sold out pretty fast) I would unreservedly recommend buying it.
I’m not really sure why it was I picked up Dogville in the first place.I’d like to say it was because I’m intrigued by Lars von Trier‘s varied and divisive style, but I just found that on his Wikipedia page, so it would be a lie. I think it was probably because I have a bit of a thing about Nicole Kidman. I mean, I’ve seen some of his stuff, I’m not a complete Philistine, but I wasn’t a fan. Until now.
Films sometimes make me think. It’s true! I’m mulling over Shutter Island and will get to putting down my thoughts at some point soon (with an obvious link to The Notebook I expect). More often than not though, I take the great think man’s films, watch them, and discard them, because I am a bit of a Philistine. Dogville though, drew me in, entertained me and without really making me work for it, it made me really dig into those characters, draw out their motivations, their flaws and their their thoughts and walk away with it inside my head for days afterwards.
First things last, this is a slightly odd film. It’s set in a small rural community in the US (although the country hardly matters) and as such doesn’t require hugely diverse setting. Nonetheless, Von Trier has opted for almost no set. The whole thing is run as a filmed play with minimal props staging. The houses, doors, plants and trees are chalk outlines on a black set, even the dog is represented by the word “DOG” chalked on the floor. It all sounds a bit pretentious and rubbish right? But it’s not. It works. I can imagine Dogville right now, streets, trees(not elms, mind), houses and all because its presence is very much more real than the towns in so many other films I’ve watched. Sure, I can recognise the windmill from Moulin Rouge, but Montmartre? Could be anywhere. Gotham city? Just another American town with a Batcave outside it. Dogville? Quite the place. Maybe this is because I’m more engaged by narrative and relationships than location, but I still think it worked jolly well.
This is all aided by John Hurt’s narration, his grandfatherly tones setting the scene and providing segues and bringing everything a little more to life. Effective use of mime (oh how I’ve yelled at actors for poor mime…) and minimalist but well placed sounds fill out the gaps. I wouldn’t want to see every film done this way, but for a one-off (or two-off, see sequel Manderlay) it’s refreshing.
The film follows the arrival of Nicole Kidman’s Grace in Dogville looking for help, the townspeople’s responses to her and hers to them, aided by Paul Bettany’s local man Tom who becomes infatuated with her (who wouldn’t?). Both of the leads are wonderfully understated. I wondered at times whether this was because these two successful screen actors were uncomfortable on such a minimalist set, but on consideration I feel that their characterisation worked well and showed each other and the other characters off to best effect. This is, after all, a play about people’s responses. Other actors are generally competent without any real standout performances with the exception of James Caan’s late-game entry. I shan’t reveal too much in a review but for me his performance really woke me up as I got comfortable and settled in for a smoothe but easy ride to the end of the film. His part, in particular, is quite well written, or perhaps it seems so because he only appears briefly.
This is a film(/play) about arrogance, a theme close to my heart (I’m working on it, by the grace of God). It raises questions of the nature of humanity, endurance and the human spirit. It made me rethink the way I view myself and those around me in both positive and negative ways, and this conflict in itself is interesting. As a film alone it would have appeared clumsy or over-the-top in its some of its characterisations, but with the increased suspension of disbelief demanded by its play-like setting it gains latitude and is better able to ask difficult questions for it.
Not everyone will enjoy Dogville, I’m sure, some will find it pretentious, obvious or just downright boring (running time just shy of 3 hours) and that’s fine. But it is, I think, a film that everyone should see once for its different style, staging and approach. I loved it and was drawn right in by it, but if nothing else, it would be a great conversation point with the other (few) who have seen it.
Being as I am a complete philistine, I don’t feel qualified to comment on the quality of Tirso de Molina’s writing (alright, I might in a bit), however I am happy to speak on the translation. To me, any work of fiction which asks actors to use the word “bling” with straight faces is on shaky ground. If you couple that with a general tone of writing and language with strongly evokes an era a good two to three hundred years past, it becomes a single word which is indicative of the mess of contradictions within Damned by Despair, which I was lucky/unlucky enough to receive press tickets for a few weeks ago.
It begins with ascetic monks living for ten years up a hill to shrive themselves for God and then quickly change scenes to a pizzeria. They are sent, by the devil incarnate posing as an angel, to see a man who is to all appearances one of the vilest to walk the earth: a killer, a maimer, a rapist and revelling in it all, certainly not destined for heaven. What is this man like? Is he a theatrical powerhouse, drawing the eye, striking fear in the heart and appearing terrifying to all? Well, no, Bertie Carvel’s Enrico is… camp. As a villain, he is totally unconvincing and I fear wouldn’t terrify my pet rabbit. If I had one. He minces more than swaggers, and so it’s not clear to me why his main squeeze, Celia (Leanne Best) who feels the need to shout all of her lines rather than deliver them, is so drawn to him. How all this can not have been picked up and rectified by director Bijan Sheibani is beyond me as is how he has allowed Sebastien Arnesto, playing lead monk Paulo, to make it this far into the show while still delivering his lines as if they were a page of prose rather than living dialogue. Rory Keenan provides scarce moments of comic relief as his sidekick Pedrisco but he certainly can’t be expected to save the acting of the rest of the main cast. Some of these performances have been praised by other reviewers and I can only say that they clearly weren’t at the same press night I was.
Late on in the play, a character dies and is lifted heavenward toward a bright light, symbolising his salvation. So far so cliché, but ok. As he rises, the actor raises his eyes skyward, followed by a hand reaching for glory, appearing to all and sundry like a bald Christopher Reeve’s Superman. At this point, my fourth wall took an irresistible blow too many, it was just ridiculous and is emblematic of the poor directorial choices in this play.
The play also appears to have been designed for a much smaller stage, and thus the decision to put it in such a large space as the Olivier is an odd one. It simply doesn’t fit.
The play clearly seeks to raise important questions about faith, actions, religion and salvation, earthly and heavenly and in some way, successfully does so. Unfortunately, the writing itself is clearly from an era when Christian theology was better understood by the majority and I fear many will struggle to follow some of the themes explored within as a man of faith travels a dark path and an evil man is redeemed. More exposition on this subject might have been helpful prefacing a modern adaptation. Even as a believer of some years, I found that it didn’t all make much sense. Both Enrico’s take on the world and his sudden and apparently baseless late-game conversion are incongruous and unconvincing (maybe God agreed). As a devout man, Paulo’s grasp of the most basic principles of his faith, around which the play revolves in many ways, is pretty woeful. Had he but once in his life picked up a Bible and read a gospel, none of the rest of the play would have come about.
All in all, I tried to enjoy Damned by Despair for what it was, a flawed production of a moderately entertaining play attempting to explore the deep issues of Christian salvation, but I just couldn’t. It improves sharply in the second half to be sure, but given the time back, I wouldn’t invest it again in the first to get there. A rare and unfortunate dud for the National, I shan’t hold it against them.
…and in particular, this country. That’s not how I had planned to begin a blog, but there it is, in black and white, although that’s partly just because I can’t work out how to change the colours on this thing yet.
A few days ago, a young man who I have worked with for the last six years was imprisoned for manslaughter in the Victoria Station Killing. I would like to leave aside the fact that this is someone I know to be an upstanding citizen, less likely to stab someone than I am and that this doesn’t appears to be justice in the sense of the word that I know. I do believe in this country’s justice system, its courts and its police, less so its lawyers, and I believe that this was the right course of action and the right verdict in the eyes of the officers on the investigation and the jury of his peers who convicted him. I mean, they got it wrong, but I’m sure they thought they were getting it right.
What concerns me far more is the state of the institutions surrounding this man’s trial.
First of all, our news media. The media have recently been working hard to convince us not to expect much of them but I remain an optimist. I understand, we all understand, that a promising young man has lost his life, it’s a tragedy and it shouldn’t have happened. This is self evident, and yet this is what the media have chosen to focus on. Ream after ream of text repeating the same tired and overly emotive description of Sofyen Belamouadden’s final moments followed by responses from those who have read the media but not heard the evidence for the defendants demanding that they be hung, drawn and quartered in Sloane Square and that they be grateful for it. A trial appears to these people to be a formality.
Not for a moment do I suggest that the guilty parties shouldn’t be brought to justice, but while everyone’s so concerned about the loss of one young man’s life and potential, they are callously disregarding the loss of the same for another 17. The media whip us into baying for blood because it sells papers, but scarcely anybody stops to mention that guilty or not, and some of them may not be, 17 people are going to prison over this and their prospects coming out will not be good. Most had their A-levels interrupted to go to trial, they certainly aren’t going to get degrees (I know at least one who would have done) and employment prospects for former offenders are terrible in any case. An exception is here, but the vast majority of reporting on the subject follows this model (although that is a particularly bad example). With so much at stake, for the media to be creating such a biased circus is hardly fair on the young men or the jurors who can only feel under extreme pressure with these men’s entire futures in their hands (the jurors in cinema classic 12 Angry Men spring to mind). The jury in the case of my friend couldn’t decide unanimously on the murder charge, the response has not been to recognise the clear abiguity in the evidence that this shows but poorly disguised disgust that they didn’t send the scumbag down regardless.
Nobody is asking how a group (I refuse to say “gang” because they most certainly were not that in the sense that the media intends it) of teenagers came to the point where they were chasing another boy through central London with weapons including a samurai sword for goodness’ sake. As a youth pastor I see a lot of young people come and go. Rarely are they involved in crime, but those I meet who do have little respect for the law or its enforcers are not that way because they are hardened criminals with no morals. They have been failed by society. Maybe their parents didn’t do a great job? Maybe not, but that’s hardly the children’s fault and someone in turn probably let those parents down.
What are we doing about it (apart from closing their youth centres)? And let’s not lay that purely at the government’s door, what am I doing, what are you doing? Putting them in prison is not an answer, we need to be preventative, we need to make sure that all young people can grow up without suffering abuse, neglect or disillusionment and without being forced to seek love and acceptance from the kinds of groups who will lead them into these situations because as sure as eggs is eggs, many of those teenagers didn’t go into that tube station expecting someone to die, and now they’re in prison. Relationships between youths and the police in my area of London are often sour by the time they are into their teens. Blame for this is not the issue, what are we doing to remedy it? Why has this angle of the case been ignored? A cynical man might say that it’s because it doesn’t sell newspapers. Well it turns out I’m a cynical man.
And what about our prison service? I’ve little hands-on experience but intend to get a good look in the next few weeks. A wise teacher of mine once explained that prison was about “retribution, restitution, protection and rehabilitation” but our attitude today feels like we’re mostly concerned about the protection and the retribution. As long as we can box our convicts up somewhere, we’re a happy society. Well the boxes are full, ladies and gentlemen. We put people in a place where they can see their friends and/or family once every two weeks with a bucketload of others convicted of similar and worse crimes and minimal access to opportunities to better prepare themselves for life in the outside world, and we wonder why re-offending rates are so high. For goodness sake, merely emailing into the prison costs almost as much as writing a letter and has no option for reply (despite the ongoing efforts of the excellent Email a Prisoner). How can we expect these people to remain balanced, let alone reform? And what do we do about making sure they can reintegrate when they come out (how few people are involved in this for instance)?
In the midst of the recession we hear about the cuts to education, the civil service and the health service, but prison reform is not and never will be a vote-winner or a major page-turner. Youth centres are easy to close but no 15-year-old votes, so they’re much harder to open. The media screams about a young man slain two years ago and we lap it up as we ignore 17 more people today losing their liberty, their opportunities and their futures alongside an ocean of others failed by the UK’s government, penal system and ultimately its people. There is an awful lot wrong with this world and we’re all a part of it.