Well it’s opening night for Mr Allan’s spectacular production of Miller’s classic, A View From The Bridge and Oh My God, it’s good!!
Having been lucky enough to catch last night’s final dress rehearsal, I have to say you are guaranteed a stunning performance tonight and for the rest of the run. It was a wonderful piece of theatre. I am not sure if it was the execution or the delivery, the characterisation or the intimate studio surrounding but I was compelled from the onset. Walking into the studio to be faced with a murky almost dank style atmosphere with dry ice and limited lighting, stidgy and gloom was created. You knew instantly that this was not going to end favourably for all.
The set was masterful. It used all the space available to it…and some. With flagstones stretching into the audience, lines of washing hanging aside the stage and a front room you could almost sit in you could not help but feel instantly part of the two hours traffic of this stage. It was odd though; despite a homely well lit front room in view for all to see, there was a distinct uneasy atmosphere that was so subtle in it’s delivery yet so obvious to all present. This dank, impenetrable darkness that almost enveloped you was quite powerful and certainly quite unnerving.
Gerry Lucas’s opening monologue will have you gripped instantly but your focus will be stretched as you contend with masked individuals joining him onstage as he delivers the first piece of commentary of the evening. It was haunting. Against this atmosphere of unequivocal uneasiness you have expressionless masked faces looking right through you from every angle, their eyes indistinct, their mouths almost a silent scream. No no this was not going to end favourably for all…
Simon King’s portrayal of Eddie Carbone was first class; to achieve the balance between being tender and being ruthless was a difficult task to undertake but Simon demonstrated just how it should be done. It was effortless. His wife Beatrice, played by the lovely Sarah McCaffrey was another spectacular representation of the character. Worried that her accent was a tad hit and miss in the weeks leading up to tonight, she need not have, as her voice was enveloping, motherly if you will which emphasised her understanding of her husband and her niece and the consequential problems that ensued.
Catherine, played again, fabulously, by Crystal Bates was so natural; her plight was instantly recognisable as was her naivety to her situation. Playing alongside Scott Westwood who played Rodolpho materfully, Crystal was able to maintain her innocence so wonderfully making the chemistry between then both subtle yet difficult to miss. Karl Gibbons who played Marco, the older brother, was brilliantly cast, the gentle giant only wanting to do right by his family. Karl’s portrayal was delivered gently, kindly thus magnifying the devastation the end of the play brings.
But on a lighter note, I defy you not to not melt or (if you are male) admire or simply sit enraptured when Scott starts to sing ‘Paperdoll’ – what a perfect velvet sound, almost heavenly, almost enough to suspend any belief that ill favour might ensue, almost.
The second half continues just a superbly as the first, with action and heightened emotion, the cast of VFTB really let their talents shine through. It is a thoroughly captivating production with a final scene so powerful and so painful to, this is a piece you will be talking about for a long time. And that is a credit to James Allan’s direction (his first) and his professional and talented cast.
All I will say is…”Sardines”
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