Showing posts with label Nicola Coughlan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Nicola Coughlan. Show all posts

Monday, 18 June 2018

The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie

adapted by David Harrower

seen at the Donmar Warehouse on 14 June 2018

Polly Findlay directs Lia Williams as Jean Brodie with Angus Wright as Gordon Lowther (the Music Master), Sylvestra le Touzel as Miss Mackay (the Headmistress), Edward MacLiam as Teddy Lloyd (the Art Master), Kit Young as the journalist and Rona Morison, Grace Saif, Emma Hindle, Nicola Coughlan and Helena Wilson as the girls Sandy, Monica, Mary, Joyce Emily and Jenny respectively in this new adaptation of Muriel Spark's novel about the charismatic but unorthodox teacher at a prestigious girls' junior school in Edinburgh in the 1930s.

A hint from the novel, which itself recounts events in the school lives of the girls while also looking forward to their adult careers, provides a framing device for this adaptation, whereby Sandy, the observant prospective writer, is being interviewed by a journalist on the day before she takes final vows in a convent. The ostensible reason for the interview is the publication of Sandy's book on psychology, but the journalist is keen to explore Sandy's memories of her schooldays, and it is his probing which generates the flashbacks telling the story of Miss Brodie's extraordinary influence on 'her' girls, an influence which begins with her dazzling teaching methods when they are eleven, but which continues to affect the favoured set (the only pupils that we actually see in the play) throughout their later years. 

Saturday, 24 September 2016

Jess and Joe Forever

by Zoe Cooper

seen at the Orange Tree Theatre, Richmond on 19 September 2016

Short new plays are evidently in vogue, and this lasts only about 75 minutes. However, the sense of unfolding lives, and of a privileged immersion in the characters' experiences, shines through this work, thanks to its intriguing structure and to the skill of the two young actors playing Jess (Nicola Coughlan) and Joe (Rhys Isaac-Jones). Directed by Derek Bond in a set designed by James Perkins, they guide us through the developing friendship of the two youngsters who first meet when they are nine, and continue meeting each summer when Jess comes to Norfolk on holiday; Joe meanwhile works on his father's farm.

Zoe Cooper has taken what could have been another cliched coming of age story and imbued it with unexpected and delightful perkiness, while cleverly wrong-footing the audience at a number of points. We are not only seeing the story of these meetings, but also, it turns out, seeing Joe and Jess in the process of telling their story, and at times disagreeing on how it should be told. There are mysteries involved, and occasionally scenes with other characters impersonated by one or other of the friends as needed. Details claimed to be extraneous to what Jess and Joe want to tell us do 'seep in' as Jess remarks; some of these details are very funny (especially Jess's smart explanations of why she has to have a holiday in Norfolk before getting to the real holiday in Italy where she can have quality time with her parents). Other developments are more troubling; there is a deep reserve about Joe which is far more poignant than just the easy stereotype of a slow talking farmer's boy.

Where Jess talks brightly (sometimes too brightly and too quickly), with all the self assurance of the articulate, well-off, but essentially rather lonely child, Joe evokes quiet humour from his sharp observations even as he is aware that he is more plain-spoken. But Rhys Isaac-Jones also shows us the moodiness of a boy at the bottom of his local pecking order, and the ease with which he can be hurt by a stray comment. It is a marvellous performance acting as a measured counterpoint to the usually more ebullient Nicola Coughlan. She is rarely at a loss for words. so that when they do fail her, it is all the more significant.

This is a promising start to the careers of the playwright and the cast who have embodied her work so successfully.