Out & About: The End of Longing in London (2016)

© BSP

I am always looking for ways to sort of break the fourth wall, that is break the distance between me and the objects of my fascination – TV and movies, to make them a part of my reality so to speak. For someone, who doesn't live in Hollywood, NYC, Louisiana, Berlin, or one of those other cool, new, and cheap shooting hotspots that is fairly difficult. 

Yet, this spring an unexpected, but very welcome opportunity presented itself: Matthew Perry, my favorite awkward jokster from my all time favorite show was doing a play in London! Easy-peasy to get to and fairly cheap at that. Plane tickets booked, local friends notified that I'd need a place to crash while there, and I was basically on my way to see Matt Perry in The End of Longing. Looking back I maybe should have realized that it all worked out just a bit too neatly and that there must be some sort of catch (that's the retrospect pessimist in me speaking, hello!). After all, I had had a rather disappointing run-in with David Schwimmer at the same place now more than a decade ago, when respectfully asking for his autograph (shit I am getting old!). At the height of my love for FRIENDS my 15-year-old self's dreams were kind of crushed. Now, back in 2016, I can finally agree with that piece of advice as old as mankind: Don't try and meet your idols – even on a very superficial level of running into them or seeing them perform live. More likely than not your over-exaggerated expectations will be disappointed. So Leo and Kate, Colin Firth, Stana Katic, Jen Aniston, Paget Brewster, and all you other awesome and talented people I so greatly admire, please don't cross my path and let me admire you from afar.

But let's not get sidetracked here, this aren't the adventures of some overly dramatic fangirl, but there is actually a point to all this (shocking, I know!). I was in London and keen to see how Matthew Perry would perform live and in his own play at that. So, travelling on a budget, I didn't book a ticket in advance, but went to the box office on the morning of the play and waited in line with around eight other people to score one of the limited number of day seats for 15 British Pounds. Job done, good deal! Even greater deal, when I realized that night that although sitting in the last row of the stalls, this was a fairly small theater and I was sitting smack in the middle of the row with a great view of the stage. I was excited, since the headlines I read so far proclaimed things like "Matthew Perry is brilliant, this is FRIENDS for grown-ups" (Kevin Hughes, Heart FM) or "consistently funny and laugh-out-loud" (The Times).

The official synopsis of The End of Longing reads: "Meet Jack, Stephanie, Joseph and Stevie: four lost souls, entering their forties and searching for meaning. After sharing one raucous night together in a downtown Los Angeles bar, their lives become irreversibly entwined in a rollercoaster journey that forces them to confront the darker sides of their relationships." Of course heavily promoted with Perry as the star and writer, I expected great one-liners, comedy and some heartfelt if slightly

Source: Variety Magazine

awkward moments. And out of all of that awkward is what I got. From beginning to end there were few moments that I enjoyed without anything holding me back or bothering me. The play started with character introductions of this four-actor production and Matthew Perry took the stage first. As Jack he proclaimed that he was a successful alcoholic first, and everything else after that. Okay, so the play'd been heavily influenced by Perry's own story, got it. Joining him on stage were Christina Cole as neurotic pharmacist Stevie, Jennifer Mudge as successful, high-end escort Stephanie, and Lloyd Owen as dumb but lovable Joseph. Two unlikely couples form, there are some problems in between, but all is well that ends well. You get the gist of this clichéd, but proven successful formula. 

The story was alright, but nothing really exciting. Your average mid-twenties rom-com set 20 years

Source: Variety Magazine

later. The performances were solid, no one particularly excelled. Except for Matt Perry that is, but not in a good way. I don't know if I just expected spectacular things from him, but having watched his work for 15 years and him being the reason I came to see the play, I at least expected more. To me his performance was overly exaggerated and I was never sure, since his character was a drunk, if that was supposed to be his character's drunk persona, his drunk acting was just not good or ... I don't know. Also the general chemistry between all actors on stage – be it supposed friendship or romance – just felt awkward. There was a lot of swearing, but none that actually brought anything to the story or characters, there were no witty one-liners (though they certainly tried), and a lot of times I found the language to be rather un-colloquial and a mouth full.

So when that final curtain closed, even though there was no actual curtain, and the audience had sufficiently applauded the performers of that night, I was a bit relieved that it was over. I paid 15 Pounds watching an okay play and got to spend a nice few days with some friends in London, but boy was I glad I had not reserved that 60 Pound premium seat that I had been thinking about! After the play, since I was there, I figured I might as well take part in that oh so highly controversially discussed ritual of waiting at the stage door. I wasn't gonna go full on fangirl or anything, but I just wanted to see what was up. So along with around 25 other people I waited in the designated area, the theater had prepared, that was actually not the stage door, but a side entrance to the theater. The crowd was fairly relaxed, most of them of the 20 to 30-ish veteran FRIENDS viewer type. Everyone was here for Matt Perry, that became obvious pretty quickly, when the other actors left unnoticed through the actual stage door. Lloyd Owen even drove off on a collapsible bike wearing a reflective vest. Kind of sad to pull off as good a performance as the rest of your cast and to not be equally valued... But that's kind of to be expected I guess. 

© BSP

The hype around a person also has its downsides obviously, though here it was on a manageable scale and no Cumberbatch mania, thank God. After around 15 minutes of waiting in the chilled London night that had me very close to just leaving, barriers were put up and a car pulled up right in front so there was a 1,5 x 3 meter space in front of the theater door. Finally, Matt Perry exited looking less than excited to fulfill his (perceived) duty of signing autographs. Camera and phones started snapping and flashing away in his face, and I, too, could not resist capturing this moment and man, if only from afar and sans flash. Even though there weren't that many people there, now the commotion seemed massive and when people also started instructing Matthew Perry to "smile!" for their not asked for pictures, I could understand his expression. Asking for an autograph and maybe even a picture is one thing, but going crazy and starting to treat people like show animals in a zoo – and that's what it felt like – is something else entirely. So I turned my back on all of that and headed to the next Tube station. No 30 seconds later I could see Matthew Perry's car speeding away into the London night as well.

Upon returning home I could not resist turning on an episode of FRIENDS. I was relieved to say I could still enjoy the show and more importantly Chandler Bing (I never liked Ross, so I didn't have that problem back in the day), but I was still disappointed and a little doubtful of Matthew Perry's actual comedic skills (or the loss thereof) after seeing him perform that night.

Out & About: Hamlet at the Barbican Theatre, London (2015)

© Johan Persson / Barbican | Source: Filmkompass

“The rest is silence.” – Hamlet (V, 2)

Silence – certainly the last word I would use to describe the newest high-profile production of Hamlet over at the Barbican Theatre in London. When in 2014 it was announced that Benedict Cumberbatch would take on the title role of the Danish prince, the world was abuzz with excitement. A buzz that would, almost one year later, last through ticket sales, previews, opening night, and will probably keep on humming until the final show this Saturday.

Thanks to the British actor, this Hamlet has become the “most in-demand theatre show of all time”. Tickets were sold out within minutes. With over one thousand people in the Barbican online queue before me, I myself was about to give up all hope of ever making it to the front before all the tickets were gone. My gratitude goes out to the Ambassador Theatre Group, which offered tickets on their own website where, surprisingly, waiting time didn’t even add up to one minute.

So, yes, I had my tickets and, in September, made my way to London to witness The Cumberbatch do some Shakespeare. Mind you, there was a span of over one year between buying the tickets and finally taking my seat in the Barbican stalls. In this time, the hype and frenzy around the production more than once had me shaking my head in disbelief. Reviews published before opening night, people who thought they were going to a rock concert instead of a theatre show and, hence, took their mobile phones to do some recording, Cumberbatch stepping out of the stage door to address those people and ask them to please leave their phones in their bags and enjoy the show instead – seriously, WTF?

© WENN | Source: Irish Mirror

Fandom can be a crazy place to get stuck in. Of course, I won’t deny it, I admire Cumberbatch’s work, I love Shakespeare and I’m always happy to see a good play. So, when these three factors came together, I wanted to be part of the experience. However, I like to keep in mind that no matter how famous a person might be, there’s still a human being behind the image trying to do his or her job. I also think that the extensive coverage of Cumberbatch’s involvement with the play is utterly ridiculous. We’re talking Hamlet here. And while the leading part has always received a fair amount of attention, the play still is an ensemble piece and deserves to be recognised as such.

But enough with the grumbling already. The audience I was in was totally inconspicuous. No phones, no teddy bears flying onto the stage, no fainting and stuff. Funnily enough, one of the employees at the Barbican Centre told me the next day that he can claim the Hamlet audience to be the most well-behaved audience they’ve ever had – after all the steps taken by the theatre and staff to re-establish order. So, indeed, well-behaved the audience was, and after a delicious three-course pre-theatre menu at the Barbican’s own Gin Joint, I was perfectly ready to soak in the play.

To be honest, Hamlet isn’t my favourite Shakespeare piece. I can hear most of you scream ‘Blasphemy!’ at me, but, alas, it’s just the way it is. There’s something about whiny Danish princes that just doesn’t appeal to me that much. And if there’s one thing Hamlet does throughout the entirety of the play, it’s whine: about the state his family is in, about the state he’s in, about the state the state is in – you get the picture. Additionally, the play touches on so many different themes and topics which do not manage to come together as a whole, in my opinion. There’s talk of revenge, impuissance, guilt, theatre, the afterlife and the supernatural. There’s a lame political sub-plot and a jammed-in romance just for the sake of having some amorous drama in there. Some may call it complexity; I call it an aimless hotchpotch of actually intriguing ideas. 

© Johan Persson / Barbican | Source: Evening Standard

But then there’s also my conviction that Shakespeare is incapable of failing his readers and theatre audiences completely. After all, there’s the language. This beautifully crafted, melodious language. Metaphorical, allegorical, witty, plain, crude – all at the same time. There are some of the most precious monologues/soliloquies in theatre history to be found within Hamlet and, hundreds of years later, “To be or not to be” and “What a piece of work is a man” still resonate and capture universal questions about the purpose of mankind. Then it’s also impressive to see how human psychology is unfolded. For a play originating from the very beginning of the 17th century, the emphasis on individual thoughts and emotions is astounding and exiting to read.

Having said all this, I’m rather disappointed in Lyndsey Turner’s directorial effort. Considering that there are so many different approaches one can follow with this play, it seems as if she shies away from really taking a stand and endowing her Hamlet with a special focus. The only striking interpretive quality comes from the outstanding set design as well as the costume and props department. There is this certain air of nostalgia, of how living in the good ol’ days, when daddy Hamlet was still very much alive and king, was much better than living in the now. Hamlet listens to old records; Ophelia, played in an annoyingly fragile and weepy manner by Siân Brooke, has a passion for analog photography; the great, royal hall furnished with old portraits and antiquities falls to dust after the interval. The costume design takes its influence from many different epochs, hinting at the timeless quality of Shakespeare’s oeuvre. 

© Johan Persson / Barbican | Source: Vickster51Corner

But instead of further following this train of thought, Turner takes the hotchpotch and pours it onto the carefully constructed stage. Unfortunately, trusting that the plot will carry itself and the actors and actresses will do a good job is not enough to bring out the best in Hamlet. I’m of the persuasion that it needs a firm hand and clear direction to gain a resonating effect as a whole.

Luckily, Turner knows how to create powerful images, mildly compensating for the lack of depth. Her staging of the ghost scenes, in particular, harbour the nature of a classic horror story, with voices echoing through the halls and objects moving unexpectedly. It’s creepy fun, as if you’re sitting through a polished episode of Tales From the Crypt.

Another reason why this Hamlet manages to entertain despite its deficiencies is Turner’s willingness to embrace the humorous quality of the source text. This especially allows actor Jim Norton to shine in the part of Polonius. His dialogues with Hamlet are sure to evoke laughter and brighten the otherwise darker aspects of the play without bringing too much silliness into the game. On the other hand, Hamlet’s fits of craziness, which manifest themselves in some odd-nonsensical moments, might serve quick comic relief but do nothing for the play, really. When he dresses up as a toy soldier and patrols around in a mini-castle rolled onto stage, I admittedly cracked a smile, but was put off by the general absurdity of it all. Same goes for the slow-motion techniques and weird dance-like choreographies that are thrown in occasionally.

It is Shakespeare’s writing and the ensemble that hold this rather unspectacular production together. My personal highlights include Hamlet’s confrontation with his mother Gertrude, played with ardour by Anastasia Hille, and Claudius’ (Ciarán Hinds) confession to the murder of his brother. Hinds conveys feelings of guilt and self-righteousness very quietly and yet desperately. His calm, vicious performance unsettled me and somehow stayed with me long after the play had ended.

© Johan Persson / Barbican | Source: Filmkompass

Cumberbatch is convincing in the title role. He whines and suffers and whines and embraces all the silliness and whines again. It is obvious that he is in it most passionately and succeeds in rendering Hamlet’s inner struggles and moral dilemmas visible. In the end, it is not his fault that the different tones of oddball comedy and honest depression and heartbreak don’t come together.

After all the hype and hysteria around this production of Hamlet, the actual experience felt like a letdown to me. Granted that I’m not the biggest fan of the play in general, I still hoped that a focused staging would help to turn the whole thing into a rounder tale. Turner, however, pretty much left the potential untouched, adding some hit-and-miss comedy and some fun spookiness into the mix. Thanks to an expressive stage design, a dedicated cast and brilliant Shakespearean language the Barbican was able to offer an entertaining evening. Entertaining yet, on the long run, forgettable. At least the fans behaved.