Theatre review: The Book of Dust - La Belle Sauvage

The last of what were meant to be my Christmas shows that got bumped into January sees Nicholas Hytner at the Bridge revisit one of his biggest successes from his time at the National Theatre: He and playwright Nicholas Wright turned Philip Pullman's His Dark Materials trilogy into an epic two-part play, and a production I still remember fondly. Bryony Lavery now takes over adaptation duties for Pullman's prequel, The Book of Dust - La Belle Sauvage, which takes the story back to Lyra's world. It's an alternate universe where the Church - known as the Magisterium - has an authoritarian grip on all aspects of life, which in this even darker take on the world includes a fascistic private army, as well as a junior version that encourages schoolchildren to turn their parents and peers in to the authorities for perceived offences against the Magisterium. But the most obvious difference between this world and Lyra's is a physical one.

Theatre review: The Ferryman

The last time Jez Butterworth wrote a 3-and-a-half hour rural epic for the Royal Court Downstairs it was the mega-hit Jerusalem, and his latest looks to replicate at least some of that success: It sold out at the Royal Court and had already announced a West End transfer months before opening. But where Jerusalem was a very particular vision of England, The Ferryman takes us to 1980s Northern Ireland and the issue that's dominated centuries of its history. The Troubles are both distant and ever-present in a remote farm in County Armagh where IRA man-turned-farmer Quinn Carney (Paddy Considine) now lives with his extended family. As well as his wife Mary (Genevieve O'Reilly) and their seven children, this includes several elderly aunts and uncles plus his sister-in-law Caitlin (Laura Donnelly) and her teenage son Oisin (Rob Malone,) who've lived there ever since Quinn's brother vanished ten years earlier.

Theatre review: The Trojan Women

After a successful first season of "Revolt," Christopher Haydon at the Gate looks at "Aftermath," and first in the new season is Euripides' classic of those left behind when the fighting ends, The Trojan Women. Poet and playwright Caroline Bird has come up with a loose translation of the play that brings the language and action bang up to date. The war has just ended, and the Trojan men have been killed. The women are waiting in a hospital to find out which Greek general will claim each of them as his slave or concubine. Their babies are being taken from them - allegedly to be raised as Greeks, but it looks likely the reality is grimmer. Lucy Ellinson's Chorus is heavily pregnant, not far from giving birth. The only other occupant of the maternity ward is Troy's former Queen, Hecuba (Dearbhla Molloy,) put in the relatively quiet ward as the one remaining mark of respect afforded to her.

Theatre review: And No More Shall We Part

January's happy wacky fun party continues with a play about assisted suicide. Tom Holloway's And No More Shall We Part is the latest show in Hampstead's Downstairs season, and sees terminally ill Pam attempting to take her own life before her unspecified illness robs her of her dignity. On a small revolve, the action alternates between Pam's deathbed, where the pills are taking longer than expected to take effect, and the days leading up to it, starting when she tells her horrified husband Don what she intends.

Dearbhla Molloy and Bill Paterson's performances are masterclasses in quiet dignity and the play is undoubtedly possessed of some very moving moments. These come out of the blue to grab you by the throat at times but unfortunately this is partly because, for the majority of the 85 minutes, both the play itself and James Macdonald's direction stick monotonously to the same pace, which makes for a soporific effect: At times I was conscious of myself both admiring Molloy's performance as Pam desperately tries to go to sleep for good, and at the same time trying to keep myself awake.

The odd staging is also a bit of a distraction. Hannah Clark's set puts the furniture of a cosy family home on a revolve and backdrop covered in shiny black tile; while two of the stage management team are visible at the sides of the stage, operating the lighting and sound boards and occasionally taking props up to the actors. I was at a bit of a loss as to what this ostentatiously Brechtian staging was meant to signify. There are some plus points to the script - I was torn over my response to Pam refusing all of Don's requests, like having their children present: At times I felt she was being selfish as he was the one who'd be left behind with the consequences of how she died, at others I thought denying his wishes was a kindness to make sure he wasn't left feeling responsible. But the loving couple revealing affairs from several years previously feels like a standard trope that comes out of nowhere (if in need of emergency character points, break glass) and goes nowhere. And while the performances are excellent, I wished they'd been given more to explore about their characters than just his frustration and her serene stoicism.

And No More Shall We Part by Tom Holloway is booking until the 11th of February at Hampstead Theatre's Michael Frayn Space.

Running time: 1 hour 25 minutes straight through.