Alexander Cohen - Page 11

The National Theatre somewhat mutedly celebrated its 60th anniversary this year. There was ostensibly little fanfare. No public flotillas, no audiences with royal patrons or forty-one gun salutes. Instead we have been on the receiving end of presents, and a plethora of them in the form of one knockout production after another.

It’s very much the time of year for seasonal silliness, and whilst run-of-the-mill pantomimes are a safe choice, they are also a predictable one. Theatre company Told by an Idiot’s Get Happy is anything but that.

Matthew Dunster’s production of The Homecoming promises a “refocusing” of Pinter’s 1965 classic. I’m not sure what that is supposed to mean, but in reality it translates to a plastic production defanged of its guttural animal instincts and brutal bite. If you squint, you can make out Pinter’s genius, it’s sabre sliced cross-section of gendered power dynamics is just about detectable through the smoky haze.

Annie's Baker's new play transfers from the Linda Gross Theatre in New York

Tom Littler’s sparkling new production of She Stoops To Conquer is a festive delight

If the idea of spending time with your family over the festive season is one that makes you queasy, spare a thought for the Alvings. They have enough skeletons in the closet to populate a graveyard.

300 years have passed since Jephtha, Handel’s Greek tragedy-infused oratorio, was heard at Covent Garden. Now a lustrous new production helmed by artistic director Oliver Mears begs the question: is it a lost classic? Or one to consign to the history books?

Generational inheritance is the central question beating at the heart of Dan Sareen’s cosy domestic drama Passing.

Less a bust up of two of the 20th century’s great British artists, Perfection, of a Kind: Britten vs Auden is a celebration of the artists’ curious friendship, and shared artistic virtuosity. Deftly curated musical and poetic extracts from Auden and a young Britten, it is left up to us to decide how much of Auden’s almost paternal influence rubbed off on the composer.

Alarm bells ring when a director stars in the play they are also directing. Even if that director is Sir Kenneth Branagh. Nine times out of ten the production falls flat and the audience are left wondering if ego is to blame. Branagh’s hotly anticipated stab at King Lear is, sadly, no exception.

A play about the limits of language ought to easily translate into a ballet. Words naturally count for less and speech is no longer the primary means of communicating emotions. But does Sam Steiner’s indie darling Lemons Lemons Lemons Lemons Lemons make the leap into dance?

Despite it's effervescent cast, this a sparky update of Frisch's classic fails to ignite.

In amongst a crowded genre Lynn Nottage’s 2021 Clyde’s, making its European premiere at the cosy Donmar Theatre, stands out by doing what theatre does best. Stirring the soul with heart wrenching intimacy.

There’s no escape from the parasites. A bedbug invasion looms in London and there is a flea at Hackney’s Yard Theatre. I’m talking more specifically about The Flea, James Fritz’s new coked-up joyride of a satire which not so much pokes fun at, but hacks and slashes hierarchical English society to shreds.

Produced by Access All Areas, a theatre company led by disabled and autistic performers, Imposter 22 thrusts questions about disability centre stage. It’s exuberant, bombastic, and undeniably well-intentioned, but good intentions are not enough to make good theatre.

George Benjamin's slick new opera plays at the Royal Opera House after a critically acclaimed run at Festival d'Aix-en-Provence

The latest part of the the Death of England tetralogy is theatre at its most courageous

Deftly balances psychological thrill with morality as murky as the North Sea

A cerebral thriller that puts its humanity front and centre, anthropology is a strong start to Hampstead's new season

Nobody can deny the humanitarian force of what unfolds on stage even if the artistry doesn’t hit the mark.