Tag Archives: Ciarán Owens

Abigail’s Party
reviewed in Norwich on 27 March

Mike Leigh’s play about the residents of a suburban London enclave is now 40 years old. Each revival brings a new and appreciative audience as well as returning admirers, ths proving that this particular social satire is one for all decades and all generations.

We may not want to acknowledge it aloud, but most of us can number at least a couple of Leigh’s characters in our aquaintance. Which is not bad going when you realise that there are only five people on stage, plus of course the offstage teenaged Abigail, who is throwing her increasingly boisterous parent-free party a few doors away.

Queen bee and lynch-pin of the whole affair is Beverly, a wife so mesmerised by her own two-dimensional façade that other people only exist to reflect her appearance, her tastes in music, home décor and social entertaining. Amanda Abbington has the measure of the part; from the moment we glimpse her arranging the room for her drinks party through the windows of Janet Bird’s dolls’ house set, Abbington presents the whole woman.

Dressed in a totally unsuitable white pleated dress, constantly slithering off one shoulder, Beverly makes a god job of upstaging first new neighbour Angela (Charlotte Mills), a nurse whose slightly too-girlish dress only accentuates her comfortable plumpness. Ciarán Owens is Frank, the disenchanted former footballer now computer operator who is natural prey for Beverly.

Both Rose Keegan as middle-class divorcée Susan, doing her best to bring up Abigail and Jeremy with some support from her architect ex-husband, suggests the woman who would love to put Beverly back in her proper place but is too polite to force the issue. when she does do so it is completely ineffectual.

You can see why Ben Caplan’s work-obsessed estate agent Laurence might find in Susan a more congenial spirit than in wife Beverly, though even he tries too hard and too obviously to clamber onto her guarded wavelength. Caplan times Laurence’s develpment as the evning wears on very subtly, from “heard it all before” mild irritation to the downright irascibility as the play reaches its climax.

Sarah Esdaile is the director for this Theatre Royal Bath Productions tour. Bird’s co-designers are Mic Pool (sound, which is very cleverly graduated as the evening wears on) and Paul Pyant (lighting). Blending deliberate articiality with the right degree of realism is a harder visual and audible task than an audience might imagine. I suspect that Abigail will be still throwing her party forty years from now. This production certainly doesn’t impede that progress.

Four and a half-star rating.

Abigail’s Party
runs at the Theatre Royal, Norwich until 1 April with matinées on 29 March and 1 April. It can also be seen at the Cambridge Arts Theatre between 10 and 15 April.

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Filed under Plays, Reviews 2017

So Here We Are

(reviewed at the HighTide Festival, Aldeburgh on 12 September)

There’s a lot to look at as well as to hear in Steven Atkinson’s production of So Here We Are, a new play by Luke Norris. As it starts, we meet four young amateur footballers, mainly perched on top of dockside containers, as they begin to take in that their friend Frankie (whose funeral they have just attended) is truly dead. They drink lager and josh each other, but still find it hard to accept what has happened.

Mourning is a strange phenomenon anyway. They are eventually joined by Frankie’s partner Kirsty clutching black balloons for them to launch as a tribute and an element of closure. But can that ever be achieved, especially by the young whose first brush with mortality this is?

Then we are in flashback mode. Lily Arnold’s container set opens to display disco lights and we meet Frankie himself (Daniel Kendrick) who has grasped the trappings of football success rather too early. His exchanges with Kirsty foreshadow what we know will happen, but are punctuated by his friends’ well-meaning interventions as well as by Isobel Waller-Bridge’s ear-blistering score and sound.

Sound is something of a problem throughout, in fact; for much of the first half it’s as though we were on a seawall with a rough tide rampaging over a pebble beach. Ciáron Owens, Dorian Jerome Simpson, Mark Weinmann and Sam Melvin all convey the inarticulate nature of young male bonding, even when you have to guess at what they’re saying between the expletives.

So Here We Are runs in repertoire at the Jubilee Hall, Aldeburgh until 20 September.

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Filed under Plays, Reviews 2015