THE KING'S SPEECH

THE KING'S SPEECH

live on stage at Wyndham's Theatre

04.04.12

http://www.kingsspeechtheplay.com/

"We've become actors …" complains the old king, George V, indignant at the thought of having to speak in public, having one's words beamed to the nation. Did Churchill really write Edward VIII's abdication speech ? Or Kipling the scripts for those early broadcasts ? Churchill famously had an actor record his wartime speeches – why should the King not do the same ?

David Seidler's play – the original treatment of the true story of Bertie's speech therapist – is textually much richer, psychologically more intriguing than the film. It is in many ways an old-fashioned piece, proving that, given an inspired director [Adrian Noble] and a top-flight cast, it is possible to create a satisfying theatrical experience from a good basic storyline and some larger than life characters.

The death of the King [Joss Ackland no less] is given more prominence, as is the politicking in smoke-filled rooms over the Abdication. The pragmatic Churchill [Ian McNeice], Baldwin [David Killick] and the deliciously indiscreet Cosmo Lang [Michael Feast, more reminiscent of Sir John than ever] all have an important input.

And good to see a more rounded character for "Madame Logue" the shop-girl who longs to board a boat back to Perth, here movingly portrayed by Charlotte Randle.

Charles Edwards makes a totally convincing stammerer, and a very human king, most of all in the scenes where he duels with his therapist [a compelling Jonathan Hyde, especially effective in strong-willed stillness], at first awkwardly, with light banter, then more intensely as they move closer over the balsa-wood biplanes and the Stone of Scone.

Anthony Ward's impressive set, a lovely domestic interior for Logue's rooms, and a massive black-framed screen/mirror on the revolve, kept the action moving over a succession of short scenes, from the sound of the wireless being tuned to the hand of friendship over a swelling Nimrod. Superb theatre – one hopes not too soon after the Firth film to have the box office success it deserves.

production photograph: Manuel Harlan

AN INSPECTOR CALLS

Stephen Daldry's iconic production at Wyndham's Theatre

13.01.10

It's seventeen years since Daldry's breathtaking rethink changed the way we saw Priestley's drawing-room Morality Play for ever. Its impact is still just as strong, as it nears the end of yet another spell in the West End.

Perhaps not surprisingly, it is a filmic concept, opening out the middle-class interior to a hostile wasteland, using a crowd of supernumeraries, and a stirring score [by Stephen Warbeck].

Principals as well as extras are meticulously directed by Daldry, who came back to tweak this transfer. But the actors manage to find their own individuality, nonetheless. Nicholas Woodeson is a fast-talking Inspector, ratcheting up the tension as he smiles and snarls at his victims, coaxing and cajoling them into confessing their culpability.

Equally impressive were Sandra Duncan's grande dame Sybil – her downfall all the more telling for her haughty froideur – and Marianne Oldham as her daughter, torn between hedonism and compassion. Robin Whiting as the heavy-

drinking son and heir, gave a performance that was beautifully judged emotionally, and physically absolutely convincing.

And I must mention Elizabeth Ross's wonderful Edna, a bridge between the two worlds, emphasising the universality of the piece. She must bring the age range on stage up to something approaching eighty years – children roam the bomb site, gaze in awe at the Birling house on stilts, and act as Curtain Raiser and Hat Stand for a benign Inspector Goole.