Theatre review: Into the Woods

When Stephen Sondheim died in 2021 I thought we'd see theatres falling over each other to revive some of his greatest hits, but fair play they've largely taken their time, staging about as much of his work as usual (including his not-quite-finished final work.) Of course maybe all the falling over each other was going on behind the scenes as people fought over the rights. If the Bridge's production of Sondheim's (music and lyrics) and James Lapine's (book) Into the Woods is anything to go by, what they were waiting for was the chance to really go big, both in terms of spectacle and of recognisable performers to take on what is an almighty ensemble piece. The Baker (Jamie Parker, who I think we can all agree is the first History Boy ever to take on the role) and his wife (Katie Brayben) can't have children, which it turns out is down to a curse placed on his family.

Theatre review: My Master Builder

Henrik Ibsen seems to be the current favourite classic playwright for modern writers to rewrite, rework and reimagine, in plays billed as inspired by his work rather than straightforward adaptations. And I'm sure sooner or later we'll get something that genuinely feels like it's reinventing the wheel, but right now I'd settle for something I can see the point of: Lila Raicek's My Master Builder isn't that. Henry (Ewan McGregor) is a superstar architect (or "starchitect,") who has just completed work on a new chapel adjacent to his weekend home in the Hamptons. On the tenth anniversary of his son's death, the building is to be officially unveiled as a memorial to the child, and his publisher wife Elena (Kate Fleetwood) is organising a launch party. As she plans the evening with her assistant Kaia (Mirren Mack) she reveals a somewhat twisted sense of mischief in some of the invitations and seating arrangements, but one guest has been invited for an even darker purpose.

Theatre review: A View From The Bridge

It's ten years since Ivo van Hove's production of A View From The Bridge not only made a star of the Belgian director in London and New York, but also tangibly influenced the way a lot of theatre has been approached since then. It feels a lot more recent than a decade, but then all that influence is probably part of that (along with the fact that I have seen it a bit more recently than that, as a streamed recording during lockdown.) So in some respects it probably is time for someone to revisit Arthur Miller's domestic tragedy as a whole new generation can see it with fresh eyes; but for many of us it'll be slightly odd to see a production that keeps the original details and trappings of post-War New York, where Italian-American families live under the shadow of the Brooklyn Bridge and work - when they can find work - loading and unloading ships on the docks.

Theatre review: 101 Dalmatians

Both the shows I saw this week shared a common theme of me not having any intention whatsoever of booking for them, until the casting made them a lot harder to skip. Chasing Hares did prove to be worth catching, but I'm afraid I can't say the same for 101 Dalmatians: The big attraction here was Kate Fleetwood landing the iconic role of Cruella de Vil; but if you essentially hobble her from the start with woeful dialogue and a half-hearted reimagining, there's not much she can do to salvage the evening. Timothy Sheader's production for the Open Air Theatre goes back to the original Dodie Smith book for inspiration, while Douglas Hodge (music and lyrics) and Johnny McKnight's (book) musical is adapted from an earlier stage version by Zinnie Harris. Or to put it another way, this is nothing to do with the Disney^TM versions, that shit's way too expensive to license.

Theatre review: Absolute Hell

It takes a certain amount of confidence to call a play Absolute Hell, given the likelihood it’ll end up doing the reviewers’ job for them; of course Rodney Ackland’s 1945 play, not produced until 1952, was originally called The Pink Room, which is only going to result in people like me saying something vague and misinformed about vaginas, so maybe titles were just never his forte. Set shortly after VE Day and either side of the General Election that would put Labour in power, Absolute Hell takes place in the Vie En Rose Club, a private members’ bar run, nominally – her staff regularly grumble about doing all of the work for none of the credit – by Kate Fleetwood’s Christine. A seemingly gregarious hostess with a penchant for men in uniform who tends to get as drunk as any of her customers, she really cuts a painfully lonely figure who needs the club and its clientele to keep her from despair.

Theatre review: Ugly Lies the Bone

Lindsey Ferrentino's Ugly Lies the Bone is a play for only five actors - one of whom stays offstage almost throughout - looking at a domestic situation. There's a reason it's landed on the big Lyttelton stage at the National though, and that's because it also encompasses a much larger world, albeit a virtual one. Jess (Kate Fleetwood) has returned from her third tour in Afghanistan after getting caught in an IED explosion, with horrific burns that cover half her face and much of her body. She's in constant pain and coming back to where she grew up doesn't even have the comfort of familiarity: Her Florida town's economy was based around space shuttle launches, but with NASA ending the programme the town has dried up, jobs are scarce and it's becoming a ghost town. Her mother is now in a nursing home with dementia, and Jess refuses to visit her because she's afraid she won't recognise her.

Theatre review: Bug

If temporary theatre Found 111 have a USP (other than always seeming to leave some sort of booby-trap for the audience to trip over when they cross the tiny stage - last time it was books, this time it's dirty dishes,) it seems to be casting actors who've long been known to theatregoers, but have in recent years got a whole new audience from high-profile TV work. So after Andrew Scott in The Dazzle, another guaranteed sell-out as James Norton returns to the stage for Tracy Letts' Bug. He joins Kate Fleetwood who plays Agnes, a crack addict whose young son disappeared several years ago, and now lives in an Oklahoma motel room. She's more jittery than usual today as she's heard her abusive ex-husband Jerry (Alec Newman) has been released from prison early, and she expects him to turn up any minute. But first her friend (Daisy Lewis) brings another addict round to share her crack pipe.

Theatre review: Medea (Almeida Theatre)

Rupert Goold concludes his hit Greek season at the Almeida by directing by far the most frequently produced of the three tragedies (the end of this run will clash with the Gate's take on it,) Euripides' Medea. For me this production has a similar effect to Simon Russell Beale graduating from Edgar to King Lear last year: The first professional role I ever saw Kate Fleetwood in was as part of the chorus to Fiona Shaw's Medea, and now it's her turn at the titular role, in one of her comparatively rare collaborations with her husband. As with Robert Icke's take on the Oresteia, Rachel Cusk's adaptation of the story of the woman who takes brutal revenge when her husband leaves her is a pretty broad re-write of the original; and while Goold's production and his cast's performances are excellent, I'm a bit less sure about how well the story changes work.

Theatre review: High Society

Kevin Spacey's final piece of programming at the Old Vic is a musical and, after his recent performance at the Olivier Awards, as a special treat he doesn't turn up on stage to sing himself. Instead, director Maria Friedman has assembled a cast many of whom were established names in straight theatre, before making inroads into musicals in recent years. Notably Kate Fleetwood, whom I'd not known as a musical actress before London Road, leading the cast of High Society as Tracy Lord. The wealthy heiress and socialite is preparing for the latest in a long line of weddings, to the humourless George (Richard Grieve.) Her resolve to settle for a safe-but-dull marriage is tested by the arrival of one of her ex-husbands: She and Dexter (Rupert Young) had a tempestuous relationship that was ended by his alcoholism. But he's on the wagon now, and the two clearly still have feelings for each other.

Theatre review: King Lear (National Theatre)

The first King Lear I ever saw, 20 years ago, starred Robert Stephens in the title role, and Edgar was played by the then rising star of the RSC, Simon Russell Beale. It maybe says a bit too much about my age that the wheel, which is so often referenced in the play, has come full circle and it's now SRB's turn - admittedly at the comparatively young age of 53 - to play the king who abdicates in all but name. He reunites with his long-time collaborator Sam Mendes on the National's main stage, and although it's a long-awaited event I couldn't help but feel a little bit apprehensive given I didn't love any of Mendes' Bridge Project productions. King Lear, though, sees the director get his Shakespearean mojo back for a truly epic - there's no major text cuts so we're in it for the full three-and-a-half hours - and emotionally devastating production.

Re-review: London Road

London Road topped my list of favourite theatre of 2011, and I was far from a lone voice: So popular was Alecky Blythe and Adam Cork's verbatim musical that the National Theatre has brought it back, moving it from the smallest auditorium to the largest as one of this year's Travelex £12 shows. Despite seeing it twice in the Cottesloe I couldn't resist one more visit in its new home, and this time brought my mum along for the ride. In 2006, in the run-up to Christmas, five prostitutes were murdered in Ipswich. Alecky Blythe, who creates her plays by editing together real-life audio interviews, went to Ipswich to speak to the residents as the events were unfolding, and then again in the subsequent couple of years to find out how they were coping with the fallout both from the killings themselves, and the media circus that came to town.

Theatre review: Our New Girl

There's another kitchen on the stage of the new Bush (this time arranged in thrust by designer Morgan Large) but it's a posher and, on the surface, more ordered space than the last one. Heavily-pregnant Hazel (Kate Fleetwood) is a former lawyer, now attempting to distribute organic olive oil from home in order to spend more time with first child Daniel (Jude Willoughby tonight, alternating with Jonathan Teale.) There's hints of We Need To Talk About Kevin in Nancy Harris' Our New Girl as Hazel's nervous energy and hassled demeanour gradually reveal that she feels a disconnect from her son - she's uncomfortable around him, perhaps even afraid. Her husband is the impossibly dashing plastic surgeon Richard (Mark Bazeley,) who alternates between raking in the cash botoxing wealthy women's faces and spending months saving burn victims in Haiti (he first appears complete with douchebag-standard tasselled scarf.) Hazel's feeling of being the only one not in control in her own house only gets worse when, without consulting or even warning her, Richard hires young Irish nanny Annie (Denise Gough) to help her out (or possibly keep an eye on her as much as on Daniel?)

Fleetwood is excellent as ever, she's very good at these frustrated, nervy characters but occasionally displays the steel and attention to detail Hazel used in her former life as a barrister. (This choice of former career amused me, and only me; as I may have mentioned once or twice [a minute] I was in a play with Kate Fleetwood about 18 years ago, and we played opposing counsel.) I think my interpretation of Our New Girl is essentially the story of a woman attempting to gain the same control over her family life as she once had over her work. But the way it's told is somewhere between domestic drama and thriller. The opening moments give the audience an insight that may affect which side we fall on, but there's a question over whether Daniel's behaviour is unusually bad and his father too lenient, or if it's all in his mother's head because she never bonded with him. (Hazel is frequently accused of complaining about #FirstWorldProblems and not knowing how good she's got it.) There's no easy answers, Charlotte Gwimmer's production certainly plays up the mystery/thriller element and there's moments when I was desperately impatient to see how this was all going to play out. There's an Act II plot development that's rather disappointingly obvious but at least it has interesting repercussions. Well-performed by all four actors and featuring some moments of sharp comedy among the tension, I'd recommend this if you fancy something entertaining whose next move you can't always predict.

Our New Girl by Nancy Harris is booking until the 11th of February at the Bush Theatre.

Running time: 2 hours 15 minutes including interval.