Naima Khan reviews hard-hitting new play The Archbishop and the Antichrist by Michael Ashton, now playing at the Soho Theatre.
News of proposed reduced sentences for rapists who confess their crime makes some of the sub-themes in The Archbishop and The Antichrist suddenly very relevant to the UK. The play looks at fictionalised meetings between Desmond Tutu and the people in his personal and political affairs while he works on the Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC).
Writer, ex-prisoner and former barrister Michael Ashton provokes some interesting thoughts on the relationship between truth and justice and whether the former necessarily results in the latter. Does confession really result in an easier healing process and, for South Africa in particular, how can a nation begin to come to terms with the crimes committed in its name? Equally impressive is his ability to boil the issues down and present them in one man’s struggle to come to terms with his actions during apartheid.
The Archbishop and The Antichrist is multilayered and incredibly rich. If you approach it already familiar with the events, there’s an enormous amount of historical and political questioning to feast on. And without such familiarity, there are the confused and absorbing thoughts of one death-row prisoner, Piet Blomfield, as he wrestles with redemption.
Blomfield, the self-title ‘antichrist’ manages to get the archbishop to visit him in prison where he questions the purpose and effectiveness of the TRC. His cynicism and his confused regard for religion is embodied fantastically by Oscar Pearce. Pearce’s constant foot-tapping and chain-jangling draw the audience into his world and the whirl of thoughts in his head. With Blomfield, the archbishop faces direct questions that require direct answers. There’s no beating about the bush with Blomfield, who does his best to swerve the grey areas. It’s a striking contrast to Tutu’s meetings with FW de Klerk and the TRC who endlessly talk in circles, unable to get to concrete conclusions.
de Klerk is played by the brilliant Peter Cartwright, one member of a flawless cast including Jeffrey Kisson as Desmond Tutu, Pamela Nomvete as his wife and Dona Croll as his secretary. The only criticism I have of the play is a minor staging issue. At times the physical distance between de Klerk and the archbishop make it difficult to focus. Their tennis match of words doesn’t need to be highlighted any further by making them sit so far apart as they deliver their lines. Especially as there is such a great space in the centre thanks to the effective in-the-round seating. There are rarely more than two characters on stage at a time and the clever lighting makes each scene feel like a confrontation in a restrained boxing ring. The characters can seem intensely close, like Desmond and his wife, or tragically far apart, like when Winnie Mandela shows up.
It’s an epic fictionalised take on events, and one I hope Ashton will come to be known for.
The Archbishop and the Antichrist is the second part in the Synergy Theatre series and runs at Soho Theatre until 21st May.
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The Cherry Orchard at National Theatre
18 May, 2011
by: Naima Khan
With little attachment to the text, Naima Khan enjoys the frankness of Andrew Upton's version of The Cherry Orchard at National Theatre, Olivier.
Classics don't always have a place in London theatre. Some stories do get old and some writers are long-winded. That's why we need the likes of Andrew Upton to create new versions of classic texts that retain everything we love about the characters, but presents them in a way that doesn't let us forget the relevance. And Chekhov's The Cherry Orchard is made unforgettably relevant in this version, but Upton takes some bold risks that won't go down well with those who have a sentimental attachment to the grandeur of Chekhov's text, or the setting.
In a daring move he changes the tone of the play and strips away much of its poetry. The emphasis is on pragmatism at a time of social and financial change and there's little room for mourning or romanticism. The story follows a formerly aristocratic family in financial ruin, faced with the impending auction of their land. The emotional matriarch Ranevskaya is urged to subdivide and sell, but she meets all suggestions with stubbornness and an overwhelming sentimental attachment to the property.
As Ranevskaya, Zoe Wannamaker's moments of emotional resilience are striking. Her astute approach to a mother who is far more insightful than we first think is spot on. She wonders whether selling her home means selling herself, and her assessment of her own need for an identity is compellingly frank. But her language is much more snappy than you might expect. In these instances, the play loses some of its beauty but gains humour and a bluntness that can be refreshing. Be prepared for much talk of things that are “crap”, “rank” and “retarded” in this version of the classic.
Surprisingly however, the altered script hasn't succeeded in curbing Chekhov's long existential rants or making them any more engaging. The family sit in silence listening to the student Pyotr's ideas on love and life, but there's more presentation of the ideas and less discussion of them. This only makes the bluntness of before seem wasted and adds unnecessarily to the three-hour running time.
Some balance is provided by Uncle Leonid, whose affectionate ramblings make his nieces laugh, and when the other characters engage, it makes us want to as well. But he, like the romance and sentiment, is presented as a bit foolish. The maid Danyasha's childish infatuation with Yasha the footman is the most obvious example of this, as she runs after him every chance she gets in the huge run-down house.
Bunny Christie's design aptly evokes a home that has outgrown its owners, but the beauty of the orchard is only ever eluded to. Thankfuly, Neil Austin's atmospheric lighting gives us an idea of its warmth and draw.
If you have an attachment to Chekhov's writing, you may be sorely disappointed with this production, but if you're ready for something fresher and far more pragmatic, Upton's version will bring a new sense of social and financial evolution, albeit a less poetic one.
The Cherry Orchard runs at National Theatre, Olivier until 28th July.
Image by Catherine Ashdown
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