London theatre tidbits

Frost Nixon, by Peter Morgan (Donmar Warehouse)


Man of the moment Peter Morgan (who wrote The Queen and The Last King of Scotland) has triumphed yet again. Frost Nixon is based on David Frost's dramatic TV interviews of Richard Nixon following the Watergate scandal and his subsequent resignation. Would Frost be able to elicit an apology from one of America's most notorious crooks? The premise is perfect pedigree for a play, and Morgan does it justice primarily by approaching this dramatic event in history with a wonderful sense of humor and panache, not to mention a willingness to add his own little details to the event.

Frost and Nixon are played by Michael Sheen and Frank Langella respectively, who portray both figures with charm and nuance. Langella's drawling, over-confident Nixon is an especial delight to watch, and the play truly comes to life whenever the two characters are thrown together. In one scene, Nixon calls Frost late at night and and rambles drunkenly about everything from cheeseburgers, to Watergate, to his own true feelings. It's an oddly revealing scene that manages to be more pentrating of the Nixon character than even the final interview, when Nixon's emotional apology pours out.

The play was staged with a large TV screen behind and above the stage, which (although it was only used interview sections) was perhaps a little unessecary as it was hard to pick which perspective to watch from. Nonetheless it gave a greater appreciation of the two lead's impressive embodiments. As with The Queen (and hopefully Scotland too) Morgan's personal perspectives on history and power continue to prove both fascinating and entertaining.

A Moon For the Misbegotten, by Eugene O'Neill (Old Vic)

Since he became artistic director of the Old Vic in 2004, you'd be hard-pressed to find someone truly impressed by Kevin Spacey's output. Cloaca was largely panned by the critics. National Anthems and The Philadelphia Story were met with what could be best described as indifference. And I'm sure he'd love to forget the ordeal that was Resurrection Blues, a lesser-known Arthur Miller play directed here by Robert Altman, which was met with such an overwhelmingly negative reaction (for Nicholas de Jongh of the Evening Standard, it had "all the allure of a sagging derriere") that its run ended up being cut short.

Thus, the 2006-07 season has been touted as something of a 'return to form' for the theatre after a string of bad press. The first production of this season, A Moon for the Misbegotten, has all the ingredients of something great - especially in its exceedingly talented cast (Eve Best, Colm Meany, Spacey himself). The problem, though, lies in the central themes of the play. As my overpriced programme pointed out, the play was a big deal at the time - fresh, controversial, so much so that one production was shut down by the cops. Now? I doubt London's finest have much to worry about. Moon, sadly, has lost much of its edge. The sexual issues especially (the lead character, Josie, turns out to be a virgin) evoked little emotion from me. The overlong and overly dreary second act lacked the black humour which kept the first interesting, instead focusing on the tragic past of Spacey's character, Jim Tyrone, an aspiring actor whose dreams of stardom were washed away by alcohol. As Tyrone confessed all his deepest miseries and darkest secrets to Josie, my mind drifted off. Such was my battle to try and bring myself back to Earth that I actually missed most of what Spacey was saying. Not a good sign.

Also, a note to Spacey - I'm sure there are many other people like me who like to shift around in their seats in the theatre. So if you'd rather the production's most tragic moments weren't ruined by the loud noises emitted by your theatre's seating whenever an audience member felt like shifting their weight...but that's beside the point. What's key is that despite some good moments, and strong performances from Best and Meany, Moon just couldn't hold my interest.