The cheek of it! A play that wittily skewers the very people putting it on stage
A Mirror
Almeida Theatre, London
Until September 23, 2hrs HHHHH
Next To Normal Donmar Warehouse, London
Until October 7, 2hrs 25mins
HHHHH
AMirror opens with a wedding. We, the guests, are continually on the verge of being arrested by security troops. That’s because we’re in a state where censorship rules and citizens salute the Motherland. This scenario – the wedding is not what it seems – proves more funny than creepy in this new play by Sam Holcroft.
It features Trainspotting star Jonny Lee Miller, who theatregoers may remember as Frankenstein’s bald creature opposite Benedict Cumberbatch 12 years ago (and the pair swapped roles, too). Still bald, Miller is playing a high-ranking official at the Ministry of Culture – a man whose great delusion is that he knows what good drama is.
Holcroft’s barbed play is a Russian doll, full of plots within plots. Key characters are played by Micheal Ward as a black car mechanic who, by listening to his neighbours and writing down exactly what they say, has produced a radical script that causes consternation at the Ministry. Geoffrey Streatfeild is the leather-jacketed laddie dramatist who has long since sold out and has the approval of the state. But the standout performance here is from Tanya Reynolds, hilarious as the besotted minister’s nervy young aide.
Over the course of an evening of audience deceptions, Holcroft skewers the utter futility of censorship. But under all that, it’s actually about how the arts game works. In a few wonderful scenes it punctures the male pomposity of theatre creatives and shoves a fat pie in the face of Arts Council-approved theatre, of which this venue is London’s trendiest epicentre. Wittily directed by Jeremy Herrin, the play is a damned cheek and I loved it for that.
If you adored the musical Dear Evan Hansen, about a boy with autism, you’ll probably enjoy Next To Normal, a 2008 New York musical starring Caissie Levy (the original Elsa from the Broadway premiere of Frozen) as an American ‘mom’ with bipolar disorder. You realise she is not a well woman when she starts buttering her kids’ sandwiches – on the kitchen floor.
Levy gives a deeply felt performance in the lung-bursting Broadway style. She’s relentless and I’m afraid I couldn’t stand her.
Jamie Parker is terrific as her baffled husband, likewise Eleanor Worthington-Cox as the messed-up teenage daughter, Jack Wolfe as the son and Trevor Dion Nicholas playing two different doctors. The great thing here is Tom Kitt’s score. Its mix of heavy guitar riffs and eclectic musical noodling will appeal to anyone with a 1970s album collection.
It’s also an emotional event, especially for any family blighted by severe mental illness. Mind you, all the singing ultimately undermines the gravity of its subject, which is why doctors generally don’t burst into song when explaining your X-ray results. The numbers turn into a samey mush in the long second half, where the story (the book is by the show’s lyricist, Brian Yorkey) runs out of puff. Still, it’s stylish, cool and eminently recommendable to youngsters who find traditional musicals silly.