Results for "Sarah Snook"

The Wicked star plays all 23 characters in a hi-tech London staging of Bram Stoker’s novel by Kip Williams. Here’s a bite-sized look at the critics’ verdicts Dracula, the Ur-vampire and ultimate outsider of the literary canon, is played by Cynthia Erivo, along with every other character, in this deliciously wicked tale of the blood-sucking count. Except it’s not deliciously wicked in adapter-director Kip Williams’ stage reinvention. Williams has proven himself a Midas-touched spinner of old stories to new. His one-woman version of The Picture of Dorian Gray was deliriously original. His take on Jean Genet’s The Maids was punk inspired. What has happened here? Arifa Akbar, the Guardian As in the Australian director’s hit adaptation of The Picture of Dorian Gray (immaculately interpreted by the Succession star Sarah Snook), the stage is sometimes so crowded with camera operators and stage crew that it’s not always easy to see Erivo. The shallow rake in the stalls makes this theatre a less than ideal setting for Marg Horwell’s handsome scenic design: I spent at least half the evening watching the action on the large screen hanging overhead. Yet it becomes a hallucinatory experience all the same. Erivo dons wigs and skirts and recalibrates her voice to play Harker’s fiancee Mina and her friend Lucy; then spectacles to play psychiatrist Dr Seward and comic Saruman tresses for a guttural Van Helsing. It’s to her credit, and Williams’, that one sometimes loses track of which character is being broadcast live and which is recorded. The integration is mostly seamless. Personifications of Irish and American characters are knowingly ridiculous, but Dracula always had a vein of camp. It’s refreshing to see Erivo get to own her queerness on stage, licking her lips lasciviously as a lace-decked Lucy who’s in sexual thrall to an androgynous Dracula – or strutting confidently in a masculine vest with silver chains (a welcome escape from her feminine get-ups in Wicked). She unleashes her ethereal voice to haunting, vulpine effect in the final scenes, where she finally gets to embody Dracula’s power on a bare stage, unobscured by tech and crowds. The multi-faceted approach speaks to the way that Stoker cut between first-person perspectives using a document-sharing and epistolary form. Equally, Williams’ boundary-breaking artistic toolkit brings out the thematic heart of the matter; it emphasises the way in which the predatory count stokes fears but also embodies deep-rooted desires. Erivo seems ill at ease with the material. There’s a hesitancy about her performance, as if she were wrong-footed by the technology that surrounds her. A scattering of arch, self-conscious moments and sly humour are part of the deal in Williams’ interpretation, but nothing feels truly felt and, as she switches between characters, the individual voices are not always properly differentiated. The overall effect is slightly ramshackle, sluggish and, in the end, frustratingly short on dash and drama. Erivo’s range is remarkable – alternately placid, pert, prowling and predatory. A Tony award-winning star of musical theatre in The Color Purple, she despatches one melancholy torch song by Clemence Williams with wistful nonchalance. Otherwise, her athletic efforts are magnified by a filmic soundtrack encompassing Tchaikovsky’s Nutcracker, Chopin, Björk and even a bit of electro-trance music. For truly this is a mind-bogglingly complex show, which goes beyond the kitchen sink in its attempts to create an audio-visual hallucination. The effects, with Craig Wilkinson as video designer, are impressive: a vampire flying by, Dracula crawling down the wall. The camera operators, wig providers, stage managers and props assistants are all assiduous and wonderfully efficient. Marg Horwell’s design is effectively flexible, Nick Schlieper’s lighting and the sound design by Jessica Dunn suitably dramatic, though Clemence Williams’ score becomes increasingly over-emphatic. Despite stumbling over the odd line, Erivo is charismatic, game, and essentially does her best as a cog in Williams’ elaborate machine. But if you agree to tie your big comeback to a very specific directorial vision, there’s not much even a superstar actor can do if that vision is faulty. Continue reading...