New Writing Part Four: Polar Bears (Donmar 17/4/10) 2 May 2010

Polar Bears is the second new play of the current Donmar season, the first being the phenomenally successful Red by John Logan which recently transferred to Broadway. I'm not sure where to start with this one. Thinking about it there really isn't much to say, which is sort of how I felt about Polar Bears. Again, drawn by the promise of another production directed by Jamie Lloyd I expected to at least be entertained, and I was, somewhat, but overall it was a slight evening.

I've never read The Curious Incident of the Dog In the Night, the bestselling novel by Mark Haddon who has written this play. All I know it was a huge hit and as a result didn't really think twice about his first play premiering at The Donmar as all the productions are of such a high quality. I figured that there must have been something about Mark Haddon's writing that cried out 'playwright', why else would the Donmar take such a risk as they aren't known for championing new work? I have a suspicion but let's move on to the actual production.

For quite a while I didn't know what the play was about. I was intrigued, that's for sure. With a title like Polar Bears it could have gone into any direction really, but I finally pinned it down to a story about a woman with bi-polar disorder. Nifty. I like how he pulls that together. Then, from what I could tell the structure of the play was unconventional and seemed to be splitting audiences. I personally enjoy unconventional plotting and structure so I was up for the challenge.

The story itself is pretty straightforward - a bi-polar woman meets and falls in love with a philosopher, much to the dislike of the woman's mother and brother. I say, dislike because they aren't so much against the union as suspicious that the woman's disorder could prove too much for the man. So, how do we make this story more interesting? You start at the end. I'm all for that as it forms a basis to really explore the various characters needs and desires. Unfortunately, that didn't come to pass. We did get the ending first (I am now giving you plenty of notice by typing a very long sentence to alert you that a major spoiler is on it's way. Even though it's the first thing that happens in the play I still think that many would prefer to not know. - *SPOILER* the man confesses to the brother that he has killed the woman in what could be thought of as a crime of passion by pushing her down the basement stairs - *END OF SPOILER*).

What makes this story more complicated structurally is that it doesn't then go back to the beginning and trace the events that lead up to the ending, it replays events out of sequence. Normally I would have found this intriguing but in this case it comes off as a device for the sake of having a device. With such a non sequential structure I expect there to be a reason for presenting scenes out of order such as illuminating issues and actions in a different way. To know the outcome of actions prior to the inciting events should give those initial events a different spin. Not so with Polar Bears. I didn't really see any reason for the structure other than possibly making the story more interesting.

Actually, it's sad to say, and I don't like having to say it, but, one of the main problems was the central performance of the woman Kay, by Jodhi May (Blackbird - West End, The Talking Cure - National Theatre, Platanov - Almeida). Everything hinges on her actions. There wasn't any real extreme in her actions and her performance was just that, a performance, to the point that I could see why her man did what he did, and not for the obvious reason. There was probably a thought that by not playing th extremes we, like the the characters in the play, would wonder if the character really had a disorder. It didn't work.

The mother, Margaret played by Celia Imrie (Rivals - Southwark Playhouse, Acorn Antiques - West End, Film - Bridget Jones; Star Wars, TV - Cranford) is very clear in her warnings to the husband John played by Richard Coyle (After Miss Julie, Proof - both Donmar, The Lover and The Collection - West End, The York Realist - West End and TV's Coupling) that Kay's emotional swings are very difficult to handle and is continually challenging him in his insistence that it will be fine. The brother, Sandy played by Paul Hilton (The Wild Duck - Donmar, Riflemind - Trafalgar Studios, On the Third Day - West End, Mourning Becomes Electra - National Theatre) is also sceptical about John's ability to commit to what could be such a volatile relationship. These points are driven home through every scene that includes John with either the mother or the brother.

Theoretically this pressure that John is under is what the audience would be looking out for after knowing how it all ends. None of warnings actually carry any weight because we never experience Kay's extreme mood swings nor do we ever feel any real connection with either side of her personality. Everyone else does their best , with Richard Coyle giving the greatest performance, but without seeing and feeling what all the fuss is about it ends up being empty storytelling.

To be fair, even is the central performance was better I don't think it all would have added up to much. I looked into Mark Haddon's experience (his programme biography is very slight) and it seems the majority of his writings are for young people with only two being for an adult market and this is his first play. Polar Bears feels like a first play and there are a few parts - namely two extended monologues one from Kay and the other from John - that feel very literary, as if someone was reading from a book. The dialogue is handled well but nothing is very illuminating and I felt much of it became very repetitive. There was an odd choice of having Jesus Christ having a conversation with Kay and then having the same actor, still looking like Jesus, also play Kay's ex-boyfriend. This was an obvious deliberate choice which probably has more meaning but I stopped looking, partly because I find using Jesus as an obvious device that I no longer find interesting.

It was all directed very well as to be expected from Jamie Lloyd, and Soutra Gilmour's split level minimalist set really hits the mark but it's a shame that there aren't more interesting ideas and characters to make it a more worth while experience. Which lead me to think, why this play? What was the process for choosing this play to be part of a Donmar season?

The Donmar have produced new plays in the past - John Logan's Red, Frost/Nixon by Peter Morgan and The Cut by Mark Ravenhill immediately come to mind. Up until now the pattern seemed to be producing new plays by selected established playwrights. Polar Bears has changed this. From what I can tell, Mark Haddon has never written a play before so what was this choice to produce his first play at the Donmar all about?

I realise likes and dislikes are a very subjective thing but for some reason my dislike of Polar Bears didn't stop me from wondering about the decision to produce the first play by a mostly children's book writer about an adult with bi-polar disorder on the Donmar stage. I have nothing against children's books writers, it's, I'm sure, a very specific skill but how that skill translates into the ability to write for the stage, especially a world renowned stage, is a topic that interests me.

I'm pretty sure that everyone is aware that show business is indeed that - a business. Of course, the creative aspects of the 'show' part exists, and it would be safe to say that most everyone involved in the 'biz' started out with mostly creativity on the mind. But to survive, to be able to feed that creativity the 'biz' becomes a major part of the game. And it is a game. It's a business, like most businesses, where you have to figure out a way to keep working, and that comes down to marketability, how much money you can make for someone.

I've never, in my mind, equated the theatre world with the world of show business. That has always been the realm of film and television. Why would I? Those involved in producing theatre don't make near the amount of money of those other two industries but there are the odd exceptions, Cats and Phantom of the Opera have made their creators very wealthy but that took years. Those involved in theatre are involved mainly for the love of theatre. You have to be in love because you can make loads more money in other fields, doing the same thing.

Because of this love I want to think that the art comes first, with a keen eye on the finances coming second. Finances are a major part of West End productions, it has to be but it still has that sense of love and passion lurking in the background (there are a few exceptions which I won't go into). Whereas the arts council funded enterprises have less to lose so the quality (the love) tends to be higher. Also with these funded organisations there are usually a team of workers, leading, guiding, suggesting, crafting and creating work of a standard that they feel is worthy to put before an audience. I'll go out on a limb here and say that their ultimate goal is not West End but sold out houses - an indicator not just of financial gain (sometimes) but of audience engagement.

So we have a culture that now bemoans the inability to reach theatre audiences with new writing, but that seems to be shifting a little. I think we are seeing that interesting writing can still draw the audiences and not just on the back of celebrity names. We are slowly building back a stable of creatives that are associated mainly with theatre and their names stand for quality - Mark Rylance, Rupert Goold and Michale Grandage have helped to create new theatre royalty, artists whose association with theatre alone can sell tickets. This is true for venues as well with the The Royal Court and the Donmar really gaining momentum. So, with all this power why would you take a chance on a new play by a new playwright who has only written, from what I can tell, only one play? And not a great one at that?

I think there's something going on behind the scenes that we aren't aware of. Is the money monster rearing it's ugly head in the off west end world? I could be completely wrong but someone seems to have struck a deal somewhere or personal interest has cancelled out common sense. I'm not saying that a first time playwright / successful novelist can't have their first produced but I question the stage on which this happened. Surely someone would have questioned quite a few things about the piece and maybe they did but if so, someone trumped them. Who and why? I think of all the great playwrights who are struggling to be heard and then I see this play that, though not bad and really not good either, get produced on a major stage. I don't want to believe that the deciding factor was the hope that Mark Haddon's name would help sell tickets. That would be a big letdown.

It's all very confusing - I know that the Donmar has an association with American Producer Arielle Tepper Madover (to be inspired - listen to her interview on the Downstage Centre podcast a few years back - she is the founder of the Summer Play Festival in New York. I wish someone would model something similar in London - Podcast is here ) and there are annual residencies at the Donmar from American playwrights associated with the Festival so why not produce one of their plays instead?

I know I shouldn't complain, it has absolutely nothing to do with me but I just hate to see real theatre talent get pushed to the sidelines. Normally I would chalk it up to 'someone took a chance and it didn't work out' but with Polar Bears something smells a bit fishy.

Tennessee William's Spring Storm (National Theatre 13/4/10) 18 April 2010

Breaking News! Tennessee Williams long forgotten play Spring Storm, on its first trip outside of the US has been involved in a serious head on collision. Miraculously, or predictably, it has emerged - unscathed.

This is a great testimony to the genius of Tennessee Williams. Here we have a play that few have seen and even fewer are even familiar with, in a production that if it were a lesser playwright, would have been dismissed as a potential flash in the pan. That's not to say that Spring Storm is a masterwork, I don't think it is, but there's enough of what Tennessee Williams does best to rise above, even the most lazy and uninspired of productions.

Tennessee Williams wrote Spring Storm when he was in his 20's, it was never produced. Interestingly enough it was written in 1937, the same year he wrote The Fugitive Kind (the precursor to Orpheus Descending) and then a year later Not About Nightingales. The play was found amongst The Tennessee Williams Collection in Texas and received it's first public reading in New York in 1996 followed by publication.

This production currently at the National's Cottesloe Theatre is Royal & Derngate Northampton's transfer of two seminal American playwright's early work - the Young America Season. Spring Storm is paired with Eugene O'Neill's Beyond the Horizon which admittedly I know nothing about with the exception that it, like Spring Storm, was an early work.

Let's look at the foundation. Tennessee Williams was an amazing playwright. His style immediately puts the viewer into a zone, the Tennessee zone. The plays are witty, clever, heartbreaking with astoundingly good dialogue and often tackled complex issues. All those points are present in Spring Storm, but make no mistake, it's not one of his best and it's pretty clear that it's an early work. Some of the elements don't come together. Some of the themes and characters he was exploring aren't fully explored - I got the sense that he wasn't really sure of some of the characters himself.

Here's the story, Spring 1937 in Mississippi. A young woman from a good family, Heavenly has to choose between local tradesman Dick Miles, a man below her social class, and the son of the towns wealthy family Arthur (who is Heavenly's mother choice for a suitor). There's also the dowdy 30 year old library assistant Hertha who also has a dream of finding something better as does Dick. Just from those descriptions I'm sure you can weave a story of how these characters might interact and for the most part that's where Tennessee Williams takes the audience. What makes it less obvious are the twists he throws in that make these relations much more complex, mostly to do with Heavenly's character.

Heavenly is a conflicted character, she wants to be with Dick, makes it clear to her Mother that Arthur is not for her, yet in his presence she shows interest in him. Because she's had 'relations' with Dick she has become the talk of the town. It doesn't help that she drinks, smokes, really enjoys that new product called Coca Cola and is not embarrassed about any of it. Arthur also seems to be conflicted, he wants to be with Heavenly or so it would seem, but makes a play for Hertha early on. Dick is more straightforward, he just wants to get out of the town and is hoping Heavenly would join him but will leave regardless. All very complex, emotional conflicts are poised to run high, however, what I have just retold I got from hearing the words, not from the individual performances.

For me, the performances were pretty much way off the mark. Here are a few examples. The opening scene has Dick looking down at the Mississippi River, equating it with his need to leave town and experience another place. As far as I could tell, the actor was looking at the ground and just saying the words. I never got the sense there was a river there. Tennessee's words did all the work. A few scenes later Arthur is talking to Hertha. He is retelling a story that could be construed as a pick up line of sorts, which Hertha asks about and takes his word that it was not. Later in the play, a drunk Arthur confronts Hertha at the Library. He overpowers her and she struggles then gives in. It's a violent scene where the overtones are rape. So, why does she give in? She gave absolutely no indication of having any feelings for Arthur. She would have if the actress had played the earlier scene differently.

Here's a good one. I'm going to set up a scenario - now think of what you would do in the same situation. It's late at night and you are awakened by sounds of conversation in another room. You go down the hall to investigate and turn into the room where you thought you heard the voices. You enter, see a family member and ask who they were talking to? Out of curiosity, your natural instinct would be to look at the various doors in the room to see if you saw anyone, right? Same scenario in Spring Storm. What does the actor asking the question do? Look behind him, at the door he just entered through. That really stood out to me - I thought 'you just came through that door, you know no one's there because you were just there yourself, so why look back to investigate?' It reeked of acting school scene work.

Finally the big laugh of the night came from the woman playing Heavenly's mother. She has a scene where she is trying to impress the wealthy Arthur and it turns into (for all of you familiar with this British TV show) Keeping Up Appearances fused with some Noel Coward comedy. The audience roared. I wept.

I wondered if there was any preparation made regarding Southern lifestyles, locales and accents (on the latter - there is a dialect coach listed but I fear much of the instruction fell on deaf ears.) I never got the sense of location, era or society. The performances were mannered in that acting school sort of way and universally, there were no real connections to the imagery they were describing (which Tennessee is so famous for) or the other characters.

I sat in the Cottesloe and tried to figure out what the problem was. Was it the actors or the director? As I tried to unravel the problem (also a bad sign that I was going through such a lengthy thought process during a show) and came to the conclusion it must be the director as it would be near impossible to find such uniformly poor performances in the same production. Then I realised that I didn't like anything about the production (my friend liked the shoes). I wondered if it was intentional to not have anything ring true or logical.

Director Laurie Sansom - also Artistic Director of Royal & Derngate Southampton, has included voiceovers (by a voice assumed to resemble Tennessee's) of the stage directions and scene introductions at the start of most scenes and most irritatingly, at the end where we hear - 'end of play. Curtain.' It immediately alerts you to the fact that you are watching a play. Was the director trying to tell us that the production should be viewed as something other than a finished work and we as audience members need to be reminded that it is just a play and no semblance of reality should be inferred?

If this is true then they've hit the nail on the head as I am hard pressed to point out a performance that transcended the actors ambition. In fact, they pointed out their own deviations from the original character description. At the opening, the voiceover introduces the main characters with a physical description. For the most part, none of the descriptions matched the actor playing the role. Gun, foot, shoot.

There is one saving grace. During the second act it dawned on me that this was most likely an early version of A Streetcar Named Desire with Heavenly as a young Blanche. This could also point to Blanches attraction to Stanley. In Spring Storm, there's a scene at the end where Dick, covered in mud, tries to convince Heavenly, dressed in white for a party, to go away with him. They embrace, getting Heavenly's dress all muddy. The image of Dick as Stanley Kowalski came into my head. Dick leaves without Heavenly and you could imagine her never getting over it - this could be transferred to Blanche's the attraction to Stanley as a Streetcar back story. I've heard this mentioned before but I had forgotten about it until that scene.

What did I get from my evening? Hearing and seeing an unknown Tennessee Williams play that although not one of his best was still enjoyable in that Tennessee Williams way. There could have been much more made of it, if only the production had been up to it. I long for someone to have a real go, if you cast extremely talented actors this could be amazing. I know all the reviews have been raves, I'm not sure if they are reviewing the play or the production. Either way, Tennessee emerges fit as a fiddle and the production - DOA.