The Grift - Review

The Town Hall Hotel, London


***


Written and directed by Tom Salomon

Ged Forrest

Much like a street card conman setting out his stall, Tom Salomon’s The Grift describes itself as “a practice in the art of deception”. The gig certainly makes for an unconventional episode of immersive theatre - but in trying to replicate what feels like a hybrid of The Crystal Maze crossed with Glengarry Glen Ross, The Grift falls somewhere between the two leaving the audience conned in a way that they may not have been expecting.

Cons and tricks are explained, but in the 2 hour experience that sees teams of ticket holders scouring Bethnal Green’s Town Hall Hotel solving riddles that ultimately lead to a denouement in the hotel’s (magnificent) former council chamber it all seems just a tad too con-trived.

The cast put in fine shifts as they marshal the various groups through their different tasks, but they never really con-vince. To be fair though Ged Forrest as the evening’s “mark” Eddie Hammersmith does throw in a lovely dash of cockney menace.

Originally acclaimed in the States – and it’s con-ceivable that American audiences may well have lapped this up for the evening is as much theme park as it is drama - in a more cynical London, disbelief is not quite suspended. 

The evening’s a novel giggle though and the hotel’s sassy, immaculate Art Deco chic is worth the ticket alone. The building was opened in 1910 and as the various groups assail its labyrinthine corridors one can easily be reminded of Jack Torrance and his family, marooned in the Overlook Hotel. Now if only Danielle Tarento and The Town Hall Hotel’s owners were to produce an immersive take on Stephen King's The Shining...

Runs until 25th March

Photo credit: Scott Rylander

Glengarry Glen Ross - Review

Playhouse Theatre, London

****

Written by David Mamet

Directed by Sam Yates

Christian Slater

Glengarry Glen Ross, David Mamet’s concise study into the snake-pit of commission fueled property sales, is as relevant today as it when it opened 33 years ago. In a Chicago real estate office, men plead and hustle as they focus only on closing deals, no matter the human price.

Sam Yates’ production is built around a tight, stellar cast. Camel coated Christian Slater (who bears more than a hint of Tony Blair in his appearance) is Ricky Roma, the alpha-male of the pack. Canny and mercenary, Roma’s senses and reflexes are razor sharp. Not only can he sniff out a potential sale across the banquettes of a Chinese restaurant (with a convincing turn from Daniel Ryan as James Lingk, the hapless john) he’s two steps ahead of the aggrieved Lingk the next day when he appears at the office to exercise his cooling-off option. Throughout, the playwright’s genius shines through as much as in what is not said, as what has been scripted. Mamet only hints at the characters’ outside lives with his play cruelly entertaining us in our ringside seats as we watch men crumble in the pressure cooker of the deal.

At the aged end of the spectrum are Stanley Townsend’s Shelly ‘The Machine’ Levene and Don Warrington’s grey haired, wizened Aaronov. Glengarry Glen Ross will always draw comparisons with Arthur Miller’s Death Of A Salesman and here it is Levene who is the realtors’ Willy Loman, a man so desperate for a lead that his once canny judgement leads him into catastrophe. Aaronov by contrast is almost a spent-force. Perhaps once upon a time he might have closed deals, but in Warrington’s artful interpretation we see a pathos-infused ineptitude.

Robert Glenister is Dave Moss, who brings an angry fire to his picture of a man who would happily contemplate incriminating his colleagues in pursuit of lining his own pockets, while as the youthful company-man, Kris Marshall is John Williamson, overseeing the leads and the deals and with a disquietingly accurate knack for sniffing out the poor performers in the team. Williamson shares Roma’s instincts, but combines them with a dispassionate, clinical ruthlessness. He may be the most principled employee of the firm, but he’s unquestionably the least empathetic.

Yates’ direction of his ensemble is tight, amidst a fast-paced script that allows little room for interpretation. Chiara Stephenson’s set comprising the Chinese eatery in act one and the men’s trashed office in the second half supports the narrative with an authentic detail.

The tragic essence of the play is that Mamet’s men are everymen, defining an ugliness of the human condition that is probably timeless. In an evening that is more of an American Nightmare rather than dream, Glengarry Glen Ross is an ugly story, beautifully told.

Runs until 3rd February 2018

Photo credit: Marc Brenner