Tuesday, 30 May 2023

Recreating an historic Hamlet – with outstanding results


The Motive and the Cue

“Theatre is for thinking,” director Sir John Gielgud tells Richard Burton, as the latter prepares to take the stage as Hamlet on Broadway in 1964. And there is no shortage of that here, with Jack Thorne’s magnificent new play offering a feast of food for the mind.

Based on two accounts from actors who were involved in the production – Richard L Sterne’s John Geilgud directs Richard Burton in Hamlet: A journal of rehearsals, and William Redfield’s Letters from an Actor, the play takes its title from part of a speech by Hamlet in Act 2 scene 2:

“What’s Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba, That he should weep for her? What would he do Had he the motive and the cue for passion That I have?”

It was a hugely successful production, but its gestation was troubled. There was no lack of respect from either for the other, but director and leading man struggled to work out what their individual visions were.

Gielgud was beset by fear that he was becoming irrelevant (he’d taken this job because it was the best offer) and was trying to do something ‘modern’, while Burton – now a global film star and celebrity after just marrying Elizabeth Taylor – was desperate to add ‘classical’ heft to his CV.

With an avaricious press camped outside the hotel where Burton and Taylor are staying, director and star fight, reconcile and fight again. Will they achieve what they both want – and how?

Gielgud’s great modern plan for the production was to stage it as though it were in the rehearsal room rather than before the footlights. Thorne’s script moves between shortish scenes, with surtitles telling the audience what day of rehearsals has been reached (there were 25).

Set designer Es Devlin uses black curtains to allow us to see into various sets behind, which change as one or more of the cast walk to the front of the stage to continue the play as the curtains close behind. If it sounds clunky, it isn’t. That, of course, is also down to the magnificent direction of Sam Mendes. The production moves smoothly and never lags.

If the central theme is about why we create art – and indeed, how – there is no shortage of other themes.

Father and sons, masculinity, ageing and sexuality to list a few.

On the latter, Gielgud at this point was 60. As a gay man, having lived his entire life with homosexuality being illegal, this adds a vulnerability, loneliness and a poignancy to him. In one scene, he takes Hugh, a sex worker, back to his hotel room, but cannot go through with any act and begins to talk.

When Hugh embraces Gielgud, the actor breaks down and sobs. It’s utterly heart-rending.

In essence, this is a two-hander with accompanying ensemble. All, of course, who are top quality. Special mentions to Allan Corduner as Hume Cronyn and Janie Dee as Eileen Herlie.

Taylor is played by Tuppence Middleton. She doesn’t have a vast amount to do, but brings light and sparkle, and also an important contrast to the two main protagonists, in seeming supremely confident and at ease in herself.

Johnny Flynn gives an excellent turn as Burton, moving fleetly from rage to fear, while there’s almost an impotence in his lack of knowing of what he himself wants.

But ultimately, this rests on the performance of Mark Gatiss as Gielgud – and it is an absolute masterclass. Not an imitation – though he fabulously captures the musical quality of his subject’s mellifluous delivery, and the quick-fire wit (and sharp bitchiness – though never used cruelly) too.

Finally, there is the ending. I give no spoilers, but is spine-tinglingly, eye-prickling stunning.

All in all, this really is outstanding – a love letter to theatre, and to Shakespeare.


• The Motive and the Cue is at the Lyttelton Theatre Until 15 July. It seem likely to transfer to the West End after that.

Sunday, 28 May 2023

'It starts as all these stories do. With blood'


Joanne Harris’s latest novel, Broken Light begins with the blood of menstruation, decades in the past, while the onset of the menopause is the trigger for the contemporary sections.

At the centre of the story is Bernie Ingram (née Bernie Moon), approaching 50, in a marriage that has long since gone stale, while she’s estranged from both her mother and her own son. Working in a bookshop, she has no friends and begins to realise that, in effect, she has little agency.

But as she travels through the menopause, the nearby murder of a woman triggers a return of powers that she had long forgotten about – and Bernie begins a journey to a totally new sense of living.

Broken Light is an extraordinary tale of female experience; angry, passionate and deeply humane.

It’s been labelled as magic realism and it has, as much of Harris’s work, a quality of fairytale/folklore about. In keeping with that, it is an incredibly easy read (420 pages in two days for me), which illustrates the grip in exerts, but it’s also full of complexity, power and moral nuance.

The central theme here is the violence and misogyny that women face as a matter of routine, and the way that women are ignored.

But it’s also an examination of friendship – and of the cycle of toxicity in relationships. And also, the toxicity that can be spread on social media and is stirred by a sizeable amount of the mainstream.

There is something exhilarating about seeing some of the worst offenders called out, by their real titles, in the pages. Harris isn’t afraid to cast her fiercely feminist stare straight at them and illustrate the damage they do and the damage they facilitate.


In terms of the traumas that childhood can produce, there are places I physically winced in personal recognition – not least a child’s birthday party and aspects of domineering motherhood.


But the ending is shocking, yet redemptive and hopeful – simply stunning. Bernie Moon will stay with me for a very long time.


Broken Light by Joanne Harris is out now, available in hardback, for Kindle and audio.