Tracy Ullman's adventures in London need a better set-up than the one they get in My City at Almeida Theatre
Tracy Ullman’s storytelling is a good enough reason to put on a show, and with Stephen Poliakoff writing the stories for her, it has the potential to be a completely absorbing one. But the Almeida’s production of My City is a confused look at multi-faceted London and the lives of teachers beyond the classroom. It tries to bring together too many strands and fails to glue them all together. But if you’re willing to appreciate each theme on its own merit, you’ll find an entertaining play rooted in our first experiences of theatre: the school assembly.
Ullman turns out a faultless performance as retired primary school teacher Mrs Lambert. Embodying both calm and sophistication, Mrs Lambert is instantly likeable if unaffectionate and when she strides on stage, looks out at the audience and says “Good morning children!” I catch myself almost replying “Good morning Mrs Lambert” in that long drawn out way we did at school.
Along with two other teachers (Sorcha Cusack as a bewitching Mrs Summers and David Troughton as a wise but vulnerable Mr Minken) she becomes part of a compelling storytelling trio. Egged on by her comrades, she reveals her subterranean adventures on the tube lines late at night and what happens to her as she stalks the city in the dark. Few of the stories are believable but they're fun to listen to in an urban legend kind of way and Ullman’s performance is a 101 in how to captivate an audience.
But the plot of My City is too weak and fragmented to hold up in a theatre of the Almeida’s calibre. One of its key failings is not knowing which of its characters is the most intriguing. Richard for example, a former pupil for Mrs Lamberts, gets far too many uninteresting lines, and provides information that the audience could easily fill in for themselves. His failure to entertain is amplified by the presence of Julie, a frank, quirky former-classmate who actually is fun to watch and who makes us want to know more about her. But for some reason, Poliakoff makes her secondary here.
He also struggles to find a way to bring all his characters together and explore the theme he wants to tackle, which, as far as I can tell, is something about what makes a valuable education. This lack of plausibility and cohesion is evident from the beginning when too much is rooted in the park-bench meeting. “What was she doing on a park bench!?” Julie and Richard ask each other constantly. It’s not like she’s working her way through a six pack, grooming her own facial hair or talking to squirrels. She is in fact wearing a posh coat, coiffured hair, heels, and a very lady-like handbag while resting in a park; and so the mystery, the intrigue, that’s supposed to draw us into Mrs Lambert’s story comes across as merely hackneyed. So too does much of the characterisation.
In its fractured exploration of the city and the most worthy elements of the education system, My City presents us with a transparent, predictable way of building up and revealing characters in an attempt to create a showcase for their stories. But it redeems itself on the delivery of these tales of the city, even if they don’t quite fit together.
My City runs at Almeida Theatre until 5th November and in case you're interested, here are a list of teachers there really should plays about.
Image by Hugo Glendinning.
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