Mulligan’s mesmeric in a trial by ordeal
Girls & Boys (Royal Court) Verdict: Carey's one-woman triumph ★★★✩✩ Othello (Unicorn Theatre) Verdict: Nice idea, iffy ending ★★★✩✩
UnLESS you already have a ticket, there is little chance of getting to see Dennis Kelly’s sold- out, one-woman play starring Carey Mulligan. And since it’s meaningless to discuss the show without giving away at least some of how it mugs you with its ending, I must issue a spoiler alert: if you don’t want to know what happens, look away now.
For those of you still here, Girls & Boys is the at-first sexually candid and finally brutally violent tale of a gutsy career woman whose life is shattered by an extreme act of domestic violence.
There are clues about this along the way, but for the most part it’s a shaggy dog story, throwing us off the scent, with Mulligan giving a graphic account of the woman’s early sexual adventures.
Eventually, she meets the man of her dreams and has kids, before his career — selling antiques — tanks and her own, as a BAFTA-winning documentary maker, takes off and poisons their relationship.
We are treated to amusing incidents and observations: about the furious resentments that simmer in airport queues, the nightmare of negotiating with small children and extreme job interview techniques.
There are also some good lines, including one about how ‘ Paris is Leeds with wider streets’. But, always preoccupied with the dark side of human nature, what Kelly mostly wants to do is shock us.
Mulligan’s character denies that she is anti- men, but she has good reason to be. She is quick to deploy stereotypes, noting that her daughter is nurturing, while her mischievous four-year-old son is disengaged.
Kelly ensures that Mulligan’s character out-lads the lads (one yarn recalls her vomiting during sex). But the idea that the play is not an indictment of masculinity is thoroughly disingenuous, especially when we are reminded that almost all ‘family annihilation’ murders are carried out by men.
Apparently, men demand control and can’t accept powerful women. Denis Thatcher clearly doesn’t count. Even so, there’s a mesmerising performance from Mulligan — a wideeyed, willowy beauty with knitting needle fingers and angular cheekbones.
Despite roughing up somewhat with a slight London accent she is far from everywoman. Oozing wealth and status, she is a go-getting yummy-mummy, her saffron silk blouse and burgundy trousers popping against her bespoke turquoise kitchen in Es Devlin’s classy design.
Although Kelly’s play, and Lyndsey Turner’s slick production, covers its tracks with endless digressions, the overall message is spelt out at the end: ‘We didn’t create society for men. We created it to stop men.’
MANY of those with a y chromosome won’t recognise this description of themselves as being bossed about by their biology.
But women should be equally suspicious of a story that paints them as victims, and disguises it with a seemingly strong character.
All of which makes it hard to give the play a star rating.
Personally, I’d say: one star for the facile homily; two for its prurient tone; three for the sleight of hand; four for the eye-catching design. And five for the emotional and unflinching performance by Ms Mulligan. Which averages out to three.
OTHELLO for children? Interesting idea. More interesting is reframing the play’s implicit racism by casting the ostracised Moor as a nigerian and surrounding him with black and mixed-race modern British actors. no less interesting is director Ian nicholson’s hip production that strips the play down from three hours to just 75 minutes.
My only concern is that Othello has a big problem for children that’s left unresolved: domestic violence against women.
But so far, so cool. And many children will identify with our lovebirds when Othello’s called away to fight the Turks in Cyprus, only for the Doge to become furious when he learns his daughter has married behind his back. After that the play’s themes of jealousy and revenge become too sinister for the semi- comic treatment, and nicholson’s brisk style can’t quite hack it.
Okorie Chukwu makes a loveable Othello (until he turns nasty). Ronald nsubuga and Lawrence Walker, as his factious friends Cassio and Iago, are likeable, too.
And Ayoola Smart is luminous as savvy Desdemona, though her independent modern style doesn’t quite go with Shakespeare’s dark, submissive ending.
It’s a great way of fizzing up the Bard — and so much fun . . . until the final third. Maybe next time they can tackle a less troublesome play.