Showing posts with label Rhys Isaac-Jones. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Rhys Isaac-Jones. Show all posts

Friday, 15 December 2017

Misalliance

by Bernard Shaw

seen at the Orange Tree Theatre, Richmond on 14 December 2017

Paul Miller directs his third Shaw play at the ever-impressive Orange Tree Theatre (unfortunately I missed his The Philanderer though I saw Widowers' Houses in 2015). The new play fizzes with ideas and with almost absurd social situations, but the witticisms reveal unexpected truths and often surprisingly painful tensions, both between characters, and between the social roles people live by and their own (usually flattering) images they have of themselves.

In the hands of an excellent cast the now-unfashionable wordiness of Shaw is managed with great verve and dexterity; the speed of delivery is perhaps only possible in such an intimate space, but it certainly helps in preventing the play from being bogged down by its own verbiage. What lifts Shavian cleverness into something more probing is the deft revelations of depths of character beneath the surface brilliance of the dialogue. From the peculiar camp narcissism of Rhys Isaac-Jones's Bentley Summerhayes to the worldly-weariness of Simon Shepherd as his father Lord Summerhayes, from the brittle self-righteousness of Jordan Mifsúd's interloper to the bullying suavity of Luke Thallon's Joey Percival, we see people who can experience real pain, which their superficial behaviour can mask but not entirely conceal. 

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.