Showing posts with label A Number. Show all posts
Showing posts with label A Number. Show all posts

Monday, 21 May 2012

The Big Interview: Sam West

The Big Interview: Sam West  

 

 


Sam West is a good looking chap who has appeared on screen with Julia Roberts and managed not to look like Quasimodo. He’s a respected director as well as a much admired actor and fiercely intelligent. He has charisma by the bucketload and exudes star quality.

But sitting opposite him in the wardrobe in the bowels of the Newcastle theatre I discover something else. Sam West is a total geek.
He’s excited about all the books on post-Great War Britain he’s been reading for research, he’s still got the sheet music from the first single he bought in 1978 – Hit me With Your Rhythm Stick – he’s really excited by the history of coal, he’s thrilled to bits to share the news that he kept a section of the famous carpet from the pre-refurbishment Sheffield Crucible. He is also, I happen to know of old, an avid birdwatcher.
Total geek.

And yet he remains pretty cool. Indeed, one of the things he has collected – the man is clearly a hoarder – is a call sheet from the last movie he appeared in and the story has more than an air of cool about it. “I was filming a movie for Focus International in April called Hyde Park on Hudson will Bill Murray, Olivia Coleman, Laura Linney – some quite brilliant people. Elizabeth Wilson was in it – she played Dustin Hoffman’s mother in The Graduate, was in Hitchcock’s The Birds and Notorious in 1946 with Cary Grant. It’s so remarkable to meet and work with someone like that and to be a few handshakes away from such greatness.
“In the movie Bill plays Roosevelt and I play King George VI. One day we were filming a nine-minute two-hander with just me and Bill – I kept the call sheet from that day – it just had my name and Bill’s name on it. It might not be a nine-minute two-hander in the final cut, but that was a great day.”
It’s stories like that, that make West undeniably impressive, but he immediately pulls the rug from under the feet of his own claims to cool.
“One day shortly before filming I found myself going to an out-of-the-way underground club in London to see the modern version of Booker T and the MGs – the Stax houseband (he gets very excited about this).
“They were amazing, playing Green Onions and Knock on Wood. Then someone who looked familiar came on to sing a number with them, holding a tambourine – and it was Bill. The following day I was in the make-up trailer and Bill came in. I said ‘I saw you on stage last night’ and briefly I became cool because it was this little out of the way club with 200 very hip people and I just happened to be one of them.”
The way he tells it, Sam West is a man in the right place at the right time and it might be tempting to consider that his career – like that of any actor – as a case of lucky timing. The truth is he has worked hard at his success. Perhaps being the son of Timothy West and Prunella Scales means that you have to work extra hard to prove yourself.
He certainly worked like a Trojan when he was running Sheffield Theatres for a couple of years from 2005 and he appears to have barely aged a day since he was appointed artistic director of the theatres (the Crucible, Lyceum and Studio) replacing the highly regarded Michael Grandage. They were big shoes to fill and West did an impressive job – but it ended on a less than positive note.
The Crucible was closing for refurbishment and West wanted to remain in post – and keep the theatre producing work – while it took place. The board didn’t agree and he left.
“The best thing I can say about Sheffield is that I enjoyed my first two seasons very much and would liked to have had a third – but there was a disagreement. Although it was amicable, it was also a disagreement,” he says, resolutely.
“I wanted to keep producing work but for all sorts of perfectly justifiable reasons they thought we couldn’t afford or handle it. I felt we should keep making work while the theatre was shut at all costs.”
Sour grapes? If there are any, West isn’t saying.
“I am delighted that since the theatre re-opened they seem to have re-captured their audience but that’s because Dan (Evans, the current artistic director) is doing very good work with some very good people.
“When Dan was appointed, in one of his first speeches – I think one of the first things he said – was that he was pleased that I had been there and taken the theatre into the refurbishment.
“My concern was that Michael had done such a great job in handing things over to his successor – me – that I wanted to feel I had done the same thing. When I left I didn’t even know who the new artistic director would be, so I never had that opportunity.
“When Dan thanked me, it felt like I had – that awful word – a sense of closure. It was a nod to me and what I had done and that was all that I felt I needed, nothing more than that.”
He has returned to Sheffield a number of times since and “had some very good evenings” but has not felt the need to keep harking back to that period. In fact, since leaving, he has had some of the best professional experiences of his career. He played the lead in Enron in the West End, one of the theatre world’s major hits of the last decade, has appeared in A Number in South Africa opposite his father Timothy (“we played together on his 76th and 77th birthday”) and in ITV series Eternal Law, had the biggest TV role of his career.
Filmed in York and written by the team behind Life on Mars, West played an angel sent to earth as a lawyer to help mankind. “It was absolutely the most enjoyable television job I’ve ever done. I’ve played leads in shows like Narnia and Cambridge Spies, but this was a lead in a six-part series filmed for three months. It was in York, in late spring and early summer, I had a little house next to Orla Brady and we used to have soup and learn our lines together. I worked 61 days out of 64 on the shoot, I’d walk to work, it was lovely.”
The show didn’t find an audience – or it did, three million, but it wasn’t the five million needed to return to the screen. The lack of another series is a shame, West clearly feels, but he has plenty to keep him busy.
What is doing that and making him buzz almost out of his seat in Newcastle, is Close the Coalhouse Door. Alan Plater’s early play is being revived for the first time since the playwright’s death in 2010.
“I’ve been mostly buying and reading books for the play – which is a list that unfortunately never ends. One arrived today called Communism in the Bible which is a really exciting and important book.”
I laugh at this, not the idea that the book is important, but that Communism in the Bible is exciting. West does not laugh along. He’s perfectly serious. “I can’t wait to get stuck into it. I’ve been talking to Paul Younger from Newcastle University, a civil engineer and an expert on water. But he’s also a Christian Socialist and knows a lot about the Prims, the Primitive Methodists, who took the Bible as a sort of radical text – very popular with pitmen in the 1860s. A lot of South American liberation theologists do today in fact, basically...”
And he’s off. It’s difficult to explain just how excited West is about the idea of pitmen’s religious beliefs in the 1860s. He’s almost as excited as he is about discovering that a member of the acting union Equity, is an expert in British political history from 1910 to 1926.
“He spent two years studying that 16- year period, can you imagine,” asks West. I really can’t. “It was the most fascinating period of British history...” He then gets excited about coal fields.
He also gets very excited about politics. Over the past few years he has become one of the arts world’s leading public figures in speaking out against the cuts to public funding of the sector. The fierce intellect, endless curiosity, the politics, make him the perfect person to lead a production of Close the Coalhouse Door.
Based on the stories of Sid Chaplin, Alan Plater’s play was first performed in Newcastle in 1968. It’s set around a wedding anniversary party and charts the major strikes, victories and disappointments in British mining history from the formation of the first unions in 1831. The story is structured around Alex Glasgow’s joyful and heart-tugging music inspired by north-eastern folk songs performed by highly-skilled actor-musicians and in this latest version has seen a script revision by Billy Elliott writer Lee Hall.
“It sounds facile, but it’s true – it’s a great honour to have been given responsibility of the first revival since he died of Alan’s best known play.
“We will have people who remember the first production, people who have never heard of it, those who won’t have the first inkling of what a miner’s life was like and it has to speak to all of them.
“I think when we bring the show to Yorkshire, it will really speak to people who feel connected to the history of manufacturing through their towns and the industry that was once there. In fact, did you know...”
He’s off again. The coolest geek you might ever meet.
Close the Coalhouse Door, Lawrence Batley Theatre, Huddersfield, May 23 – 26. York Theatre Royal June 26 - 30.

Friday, 21 October 2011

Backstage: Samuel West


Samuel West and his father Timothy share a scene

 

Backstage: Samuel West

Audrey Nyathi | 21 October, 2011 00:20

Samuel West, who stars with his father in 'A Number'

What is the play about?
Identity, love (and the lack thereof) and the crisis of self.

What attracted you to it?
The ideas of the play were things being discussed in the press: what made you "you", and the physical aspects of cloning.

The play features a father and son.
My father was available and we were pleased to act together.

Has the play changed your view of who you are?
Not really.
Psychiatrists and geneticists tell us that we're a 50-50 mixture of genetics and upbringing.
The play comes down more heavily on the side of nurture being the great aspect of change.
If that is a political point, I agree with it. There's been an enormous growth in the idea of genetic pre-determinism, particularly in terms of gender roles.
In an age of economic and political uncertainty, there's a move towards people being defined by their genetics.
This play refutes that idea, and it's important that we support that because we may only be one generation away from people being difficult to insure because of their genetic make-up.
Nobody is born a serial killer.

This play was first produced in the UK in 2006. What's it like returning to it now?
It's been an opportunity to take a fresh look at it and to question choices we made last time.
Caryl Churchill's writing is so rich and complex that returning to it affords us a chance to delve deeper.
  • 'A Number' is on at the Fugard Theatre in Cape Town until October 29. Call 021-461-4554 or visit www.thefugard.com for further info

Backstage: Samuel West

Backstage: Samuel West

Audrey Nyathi | 21 October, 2011 00:20

Samuel West and his father Timothy share a scene

Samuel West, who stars with his father in 'A Number'
What is the play about?
Identity, love (and the lack thereof) and the crisis of self.
What attracted you to it?
The ideas of the play were things being discussed in the press: what made you "you", and the physical aspects of cloning.
The play features a father and son. My father was available and we were pleased to act together.
Has the play changed your view of who you are?
Not really. Psychiatrists and geneticists tell us that we're a 50-50 mixture of genetics and upbringing. The play comes down more heavily on the side of nurture being the great aspect of change.
If that is a political point, I agree with it. There's been an enormous growth in the idea of genetic pre-determinism, particularly in terms of gender roles.
In an age of economic and political uncertainty, there's a move towards people being defined by their genetics.
This play refutes that idea, and it's important that we support that because we may only be one generation away from people being difficult to insure because of their genetic make-up.
Nobody is born a serial killer.
This play was first produced in the UK in 2006. What's it like returning to it now?
It's been an opportunity to take a fresh look at it and to question choices we made last time.
Caryl Churchill's writing is so rich and complex that returning to it affords us a chance to delve deeper.
  • 'A Number' is on at the Fugard Theatre in Cape Town until October 29. Call 021-461-4554 or visit www.thefugard.com for further info

Wednesday, 19 October 2011

Individuality questioned in A Number

Individuality questioned in A Number

19 October 2011
Father and son duo Timothy and Samuel West star in A
 Number at The Fugard Studio theatre. Photo: Jesse Kramer
‘We are all individuals,’ is the famous line from Monty Python’s Life of Brian that, old and oft-repeated as it is, still produces a snigger or wry smile at its truism.
For while we are each one of us unique, we are also more alike than we may wish to admit. We prize our individuality, yet seek to fit within the bounds of what might be considered normal, even the eccentric has been drawn into realm of acceptable exceptions to the rule.
Yet what happens when this idea of our individuality is challenged? What would we do if we discovered there was not one, but 20 or more of us?
This is the question playwright Caryl Churchill examins in her play A Number, which opened at The Fugard Theatre on October 4. Written in 2002 when cloning was a hot topic of debate – Dolly the sheep was successfully cloned in 2005 – it is written for two actors, and has four characters.
Bernard (B2) lives with his father, Salter, but then discovers the existence of a clone (B1). The question of who is the original is the main dramatic question, and questions escalate when a third clone, Michael Black, appears. In fact, B2 hears there may be 20 or more clones.
What is special about the run at The Fugard’s Studio stage is that the two actors are father and son team Timothy and Samuel West, who had no fewer than seven five-star reviews during their recent run in London’s West End.
WCN was able to pull them out of rehearsals before the opening to chat about the play.
Timothy, who turns 77 later this month, looks every bit the elderly Englishman dressed in hues in brown and tan, while his son Samuel, 45, in jeans and a grey hoodie, apologises for not having shoes on.
It is very soon apparent that there is no issue of Sam – as Timothy calls him – living in his father’s shadow.
In fact Tim – as Sam calls him – tells how when director Richard Eyre offered him the part of elderly Maurice in the film Iris, Richard’s condition was that Sam accepted the part of the younger Maurice in the film.
Timothy’s own father, Lockwood West, was an actor and his wife and Samuel’s mother Prunella Scales is also an actor. “It’s the family business,” says Sam.
Conversation quickly turns to the philosophical questions raised by A Number with Sam noting that the ethics of cloning seem to hold little interest for “Caryl” (Churchill).
“A Number is much more about the human interest, which is what Caryl is all about,” says Tim, as Sam adds that the play provides a situation – cloning has happened, “and these are the results”.
Sam mentions that when they did their first run at The Crucible in Sheffield in 2007, Dolly had been cloned two years prior and cloning was a “hot topic”.
“But we’ve moved away from that, the issue now is more about genetic predetermination. There’s talk of insurance companies doing genetic profiling and refusing to provide life or health insurance cover because your genetic make-up shows you’re prone to cancer, for instance. These are the sort of things that the play fights against, it’s a celebration of individualism.”
Tim notes that “conflict arises when people think they don’t own their individuality” and, possibly drawing on the wisdom of age, reflects that, ironically, “the happier people don’t worry about the fact that they’re not the only one, that they don’t stand out from the crowd.”
Talk of individuality leads to speculation on the society we live in.
“It’s an extraordinary function of global capitalism that we don’t have much of a freedom of choice yet we live in a culture where we’re being sold individuality all the time, as tiny little choices from mass produced items, like you can have extra cheese on your McDonalds,” says Sam, or people defining their personality by the things they own.
Caryl throws a curve ball in that while B1 and B2 react very badly to the discovery that they’re not the only ones – as might be expected – the third clone, Michael Black, who is married with children and works as a maths teacher, is unperturbed by the discovery.
Tim and Sam believe the message here is that the greater the number of loving relationships in a person’s life, the happier they are bound to be.
“It is clear that Michael has had a balanced upbringing, he talks simply and beautifully about love and is at the centre of a large number of loving bonds. B1 on the other hand, does not even have a dog to love him, there’s nobody in his life, no bonds. Caryl believes in the strength of these bonds very much,” says Sam.
It’s also clear that Sam must have had a balanced upbringing to be able to act with his father in a play which raises so many questions of identity and upbringing.
“You have to well-adjusted off stage in order to beat the shit out of each other on stage,” says Sam. — Steve Kretzmann
A Number plays at The Fugard Theatre Studio until October 29

Individuality questioned in A Number

Individuality questioned in A Number


19 October 2011
Father and son duo Timothy and Samuel West star in A Number at The Fugard Studio theatre. Photo: Jesse Kramer

‘We are all individuals,’ is the famous line from Monty Python’s Life of Brian that, old and oft-repeated as it is, still produces a snigger or wry smile at its truism.
For while we are each one of us unique, we are also more alike than we may wish to admit. We prize our individuality, yet seek to fit within the bounds of what might be considered normal, even the eccentric has been drawn into realm of acceptable exceptions to the rule.
Yet what happens when this idea of our individuality is challenged? What would we do if we discovered there was not one, but 20 or more of us?
This is the question playwright Caryl Churchill examins in her play A Number, which opened at The Fugard Theatre on October 4. Written in 2002 when cloning was a hot topic of debate – Dolly the sheep was successfully cloned in 2005 – it is written for two actors, and has four characters.
Bernard (B2) lives with his father, Salter, but then discovers the existence of a clone (B1). The question of who is the original is the main dramatic question, and questions escalate when a third clone, Michael Black, appears. In fact, B2 hears there may be 20 or more clones.
What is special about the run at The Fugard’s Studio stage is that the two actors are father and son team Timothy and Samuel West, who had no fewer than seven five-star reviews during their recent run in London’s West End.
WCN was able to pull them out of rehearsals before the opening to chat about the play.
Timothy, who turns 77 later this month, looks every bit the elderly Englishman dressed in hues in brown and tan, while his son Samuel, 45, in jeans and a grey hoodie, apologises for not having shoes on.
It is very soon apparent that there is no issue of Sam – as Timothy calls him – living in his father’s shadow.
In fact Tim – as Sam calls him – tells how when director Richard Eyre offered him the part of elderly Maurice in the film Iris, Richard’s condition was that Sam accepted the part of the younger Maurice in the film.
Timothy’s own father, Lockwood West, was an actor and his wife and Samuel’s mother Prunella Scales is also an actor. “It’s the family business,” says Sam.
Conversation quickly turns to the philosophical questions raised by A Number with Sam noting that the ethics of cloning seem to hold little interest for “Caryl” (Churchill).
“A Number is much more about the human interest, which is what Caryl is all about,” says Tim, as Sam adds that the play provides a situation – cloning has happened, “and these are the results”.
Sam mentions that when they did their first run at The Crucible in Sheffield in 2007, Dolly had been cloned two years prior and cloning was a “hot topic”.
“But we’ve moved away from that, the issue now is more about genetic predetermination. There’s talk of insurance companies doing genetic profiling and refusing to provide life or health insurance cover because your genetic make-up shows you’re prone to cancer, for instance. These are the sort of things that the play fights against, it’s a celebration of individualism.”
Tim notes that “conflict arises when people think they don’t own their individuality” and, possibly drawing on the wisdom of age, reflects that, ironically, “the happier people don’t worry about the fact that they’re not the only one, that they don’t stand out from the crowd.”
Talk of individuality leads to speculation on the society we live in.
“It’s an extraordinary function of global capitalism that we don’t have much of a freedom of choice yet we live in a culture where we’re being sold individuality all the time, as tiny little choices from mass produced items, like you can have extra cheese on your McDonalds,” says Sam, or people defining their personality by the things they own.
Caryl throws a curve ball in that while B1 and B2 react very badly to the discovery that they’re not the only ones – as might be expected – the third clone, Michael Black, who is married with children and works as a maths teacher, is unperturbed by the discovery.
Tim and Sam believe the message here is that the greater the number of loving relationships in a person’s life, the happier they are bound to be.
“It is clear that Michael has had a balanced upbringing, he talks simply and beautifully about love and is at the centre of a large number of loving bonds. B1 on the other hand, does not even have a dog to love him, there’s nobody in his life, no bonds. Caryl believes in the strength of these bonds very much,” says Sam.
It’s also clear that Sam must have had a balanced upbringing to be able to act with his father in a play which raises so many questions of identity and upbringing.
“You have to well-adjusted off stage in order to beat the shit out of each other on stage,” says Sam. — Steve Kretzmann
A Number plays at The Fugard Theatre Studio until October 29

Sunday, 16 October 2011

A Number is great theatre that exhilarates and provokes

A Number is great theatre that exhilarates and provokes

Marianne Thamm | 16 October, 2011 02:16

Slater (Timothy West) and his son,
Bernard 2 (Samuel West) Picture: JESSE KRAMER

 
CAPE TOWN
THEATRE
A NUMBER
Fugard Theatre, 021 461 4554, until October 29

IMAGINE someone walks into a room full of people, tosses in a grand idea and walks out again. That's more or less what British playwright Caryl Churchill accomplishes with A Number, an exhilarating 50-minute philosophical and dramatic riff that provokes a range of questions and thoughts.
Churchill, regarded as one of the most significant contemporary British dramatists, wrote A Number in 2002 shortly after scientists had cloned the world's first sheep, Dolly.
Here she uses cloning as a prompt for the much larger concepts the play attempts to explore but deliberately never quite resolves. The mystery of it all - like the double helix of a strand of DNA - is what slowly and unwittingly reels the audience in. This is a play not only about secrets, lies and betrayal but also the essence of individual identity.
It takes place on a starkly lit stage with one armchair. Above, a slab of test tubes hovers like a futuristic chandelier. Here we find an obviously uneasy and evasive older man, Slater (Timothy West), being confronted by his son, Bernard 2 (Samuel West).
Bernard 2 is distressed at having learned that he is a clone, a copy of a son Slater had five years before his birth.
But there's more. Bernard 2 has discovered that the scientist who "made" him has also created at least 20 other copies. The truth unlocks for him an existential crisis of identity.
The play unfolds in five interlocking scenes in which we later meet the angry and menacing "original" Bernard 1 (also played by Samuel West), whom Slater abandoned after the death of his mother.
Without giving away too much, Bernard 1 exacts a terrible revenge for his father's attempts at "recreating" him.
Towards the end Slater meets a second clone, Michael Black, for the first time. Black is the same age as Bernard 2 but much less tortured about his origins. In fact he finds it "delightful" that he is a clone.
Inside of this triangle Churchill bounces ideas of nature versus nurture and what it might be that makes us authentic and unique. But it is also what is not in the text that resonates intellectually long afterwards.
For example Churchill's deliberate exclusion of the female or the maternal, the narcissism of procreation, the role of violence in male identity and the chauvinism of science.
This revival of the London production features Timothy and Samuel West, a father and son acting duo. It is the younger West who has to work harder here in rendering each of the characters differently. A change of clothing, gait, accent and nuance is all that is required as West fully inhabits each one.
The older West is a beautifully manipulative and emotionally withholding patriarch caught in a web of lies, recriminations and regrets.
Churchill's text gives no stage or set directions and director Jonathan Munby steers a steady course between the playwright's porous dialogue and the unusual unfolding of the story.
A Number is great theatre for those who enjoy being intellectually cajoled and provoked. And like life itself, there are no neat resolutions.

Tuesday, 11 October 2011

Cloning: it’s an identity crisis

Cloning: it’s an identity crisis



11 oct 11 iol tonight ca a number review pic1

A NUMBER
DIRECTOR: Jonathan Munby
CAST: Timothy West and Samuel West
VENUE: The Fugard Theatre
UNTIL: October 29
RATING: ***

11 oct 11 iol tonight ca a number review pic2The looped sound of a crying child greets you upon entering the Sigrid Rausing room at The Fugard Theatre, creating a creepy atmosphere, helped along by eerily-lit stalactite test tubes.
The very simple stage contains only a chair and a side table and the staging has been done in such a way that you feel almost voyeu-ristic. The seating rakes up two sides of the room, and you are constantly watching the charac-ters’ profiles, peeking into their lives, as the younger ones confront the older man.
Bernard (Samuel West) challenges his father, Salter (Timothy West), about apparently having been cloned, and finds out that it is true and he doesn’t really know his father after all.
When Bernard finds out he was cloned he starts to question his identity, uncovering a lifetime of family secrets. Does the existence of a clone damage his uniqueness, he asks his father.
While the ethics of cloning was the provocative topic when this play was first staged in 2002, it seems to have faded into the background, foregrounding the issue of how identity is created.
Turns out Salter had his son cloned so that he could start over again with a new son and get it right, but as Bernard puts it – he can’t give his dad credit for one thing if he can’t blame him for the other.
West sr creates a dignified character who is more indignant that the cloning doctor made a number of copies than that the secret’s out. While he stands by his actions, Salter becomes progres-sively plagued by doubt, coming across as increasingly vulnerable.
West jr gives us three different sons: the first, Bernard, is scared by the idea of losing himself in the morass of too many Mes; there’s an older Bernard who is much more confrontational, angry and physical; and a Michael who seems to be the most well-adjusted with his own family.
West uses more than just clothes to create three characters with different attitudes, accents and personalities.
For all the atmospheric eeriness created with the lights, set and sound design, it’s surprisingly non-weird because it’s a story about fathers and sons. For all the clever lines about individuality and responsibility, the line that stands out is from the first Bernard: “When you’re small your father isn’t old or young, he’s just a dark presence.”
The ploy of using a real-life father and son team brings the intimacy of that relationship into sharp relief. Because they know each other so well, the jagged dialogue is believable; they don’t have to mimic each other’s speech patters, they already have that. Sentences don’t end, they talk over each other and use short-hand, the way people who know each other well do.
This isn’t a tale about playing God, but a gentle take on nature versus nurture, coming down firmly on nurture’s side. It’s short, sharp and to the point, but it doesn’t beat you over the head with the message; the playwright prefers to show rather than tell.

Friday, 8 October 2010

REVIEW: A NUMBER BY CARYL CHURCHILL AT MENIER CHOCOLATE FACTORY, LONDON

REVIEW: A NUMBER BY CARYL CHURCHILL AT MENIER CHOCOLATE FACTORY, LONDON
Story Image
Timothy and Sam West star in Caryl Churchill's A Number/ Pic: Manuel Harlan
Friday October 8,2010

By Julie Carpenter

WHEN Caryl Churchill wrote this two hander in 2002, Dolly the Sheep was alive and well and cloning was an issue discussed around the water fountain.
Its topicality may have waned but while scientists continue to talk about our genetic predisposition towards anything from a cold to a killer instinct, this multi-faceted 50 minute play will still be relevant: its as much about what makes us the person we are (the nature/nurture debate) as it is about cloning.
There is an air of the futuristic horror story at the outset when an eerie green light illuminates the stage ceiling, revealing a grid full of identical test tubes.


We then witness a fraught discussion between a father, Salter, and his son, Bernard, who has discovered he is not his father's "original" child but is one of "a number" of clones.

 
Salter and his "sons" are played by real life father-and-son

It's a bit of a revelation for Salter, too. It turns out he knew his son was a clone but thought he was the only one made and is digesting the news that the geneticist he hired for the job actually created about 20. The disclosures come thick and fast as Bernard has an understandable crisis of identity and is forced to re-evaluate his father's character while we are introduced to the "real" son and one of the other clones.

What gives this production extra punch is that Salter and his "sons" are played by real life father-and-son Timothy and Sam West, who first performed the play at the Sheffield Crucible four years ago. Timothy creates a blinking, crumpled figure whose crimes have been masked by age while Sam, with a couple of deft costume changes, effectively switches between the alarmed Bernard to the hostile "original" Bernard to the blithely untouched clone, Michael.

Performed in the round, so heightening the sense of intimacy, the fragmented dialogue never gives us the whole picture. We are given brief encounters but while it all seems deceptively minimalist, the play's genius is that it raises a host of issues that keep you thinking long after you leave.

Churchill's point is ultimately that nurture is the winner in the nature/nurture debate: the discarded original Bernard is resentful and murderous as an adult, the well-treated Bernard clone is sensitive and better adjusted while Salter can find no connection whatsoever with the nice-but-boring maths teacher Michael.

Each clone, in other words, has his own distinct identity - much like this intriguing play.

Box office: 0207 907 7060, until November 5

Verdict: 4/5

Thursday, 7 October 2010

A Number – review

A Number – review

Menier Chocolate Factory, London


Timothy West and Samuel West in A Number
Timothy West and Samuel West in A Number. Photograph: Tristram Kenton

 
Caryl Churchill's astonishing play raises many issues: the meaning of identity, the conflict between nature and nurture, the ethics of cloning. But, by casting Timothy and Samuel West opposite each other, as it did at the Sheffield Crucible in 2006, Jonathan Munby's production focuses on the fraught intimacy of father-son relationships.

In five cryptically engrossing scenes, Churchill shows a troubled patriarch, Salter, confront three of his supposed offspring. Bernard One, the psychologically maimed product of a single-parent upbringing, is the authentic original. From the cells of this child, a doctor has created the more pacific Bernard Two, and gone on to clone another 20 sons, one of whom Salter apprehensively meets. But even this is to simplify a non-linear work in which big ideas are explored through a series of dynamic encounters.
Churchill asks what the source is of the self, and suggests it has more to do with environment than genetics. The real drama, however, resides in the way ingrained lies are gradually exposed, and in the father's guilt: he tells his original son, whom he put into care, he was "this disgusting thing", yet so perfect he wanted him artificially reproduced.
Timothy West presents us with a figure plagued by doubt, insecurity and fear. Samuel West crisply differentiates the three "sons", suggesting variations on Lenny, Joey and Teddy in Pinter's The Homecoming. This is superb acting from West pere et fils.

Wednesday, 6 October 2010

Review Round-up: Wests Make A Number Count

Review Round-up Wests Make A Number Count:

Date: 6 October 2010

Samuel & Timothy West in A Number
Jonathan Munby's 2006 Sheffield staging of Caryl Churchill's A Number has been revived at London's Menier Chocolate Factory, where it opened to press this week (4 October 2010, previews from 29 September).
Starring father and son Timothy and Samuel West, the play examines the issue of cloning through the characters of a father and cloned sons. Originally staged at the Royal Court in 2002 (when it starred Michael Gambon and a pre-Bond Daniel Craig), the current production marks its first major London revival since then.
Set in the near future, Caryl Churchill’s two-hander is structured around the conflict between father and son, addressing the subjects of human cloning, identity and nature versus nurture. This revival brings the Wests together for the first time since English Touring Theatre’s 1997 staging of Henry IV Parts 1 and 2, in which Samuel played Hal to Timothy’s Falstaff.
A Number continues at the Menier until 5 November 2010.
Did this story of illegally cloning combined with the Wests' joint appearance leave the critics seeing double?

  • Terri Paddock on Whatsonstage.com (five stars) - "The seating arrangement - as well as the casting of a real-life father and son and other directorial decisions - makes this feel like an entirely different, and much more intimate, piece than the play’s world premiere production... at the Royal Court in 2002. Though similarly slick and thought-provoking, the enduring ideas left with me by the original centred on the ethical and identity quandaries thrown up by the situation ... With the Wests, the human drama is brought fully to the fore ... The concentrated mood is enhanced by Paul Wills’ simple design – just an armchair and sidetable, a copy of the Daily Mail opened to the puzzle pages, overhung by a grid of test tube stalactites ... The beauty of the play and the production aside, the chance to witness the generational baton being passed – and so adroitly – in this revered family of actors is unmissable."


  • Henry Hitchings in the Evening Standard (four stars) - "Churchill reflects on the question of what happens to personal identity in a society where the idea of uniqueness unravels. Her writing evokes the faltering, even inarticulate quality of Salter’s confrontations with his sons. They engage in a morbid dance, manoeuvring around each other and exchanging reflections on guilt, authenticity and duty. Samuel West manages in his three different guises to be pained, sardonic, resentful, brutish and suave. There’s a meaty rawness throughout. Timothy West gives a performance richly furbished with little tics and postural shifts that betray the intimate mechanics of self-justification ... Enigmatic, mournful and under-stated, A Number is a subtly compelling meditation on individuality ... It’s a play for the head rather than the heart... but it will have audiences wrangling at length over the uncomfortable questions it invites."


  • Rhoda Koenig in the Independent (three stars) "In fragmented, overlapping sentences, a father and son pursue, evade, and circle each other, their versions of the past shifting as they speak. The young man learns that he is a clone of an earlier son, but that that one is dead, though ... he has discovered that the cloning doctor, without the father's knowledge, made 21 more. What such a play needs is a poetic atmosphere ... A Number, however, makes one recall the old criticism of Pinter, that his underwritten characters merely perform actors'-workshop exercises of unmotivated emotion. It's a play that, with its hints of various contentious topics (nature vs nurture, technology vs humanity), is less appealing to audiences than to leader writers and other high-minded people ... Timothy West is a bit too nice for the father ... But Samuel West, as both beloved son and rejected thug ... gives the play some of the quality of ghostly, tugging fingers missing in the text."


  • Charles Spencer in the Independent (four stars) - "Caryl Churchill’s play lasts less than an hour but packs in more emotion, ideas, and disconcerting strangeness, than many dramatists manage in half a dozen dramas ... Out of a sci-fi scenario which could one day become a real-life possibility, Churchill creates a play that is as emotionally upsetting as it is intellectually and morally profound. But A Number, despite its darkness and echoes of Cain and Abel, is also an unexpectedly optimistic work. Tackling the nature-versus-nurture debate head-on, the dramatist concludes that human beings aren’t just the sum of their genetic parts, and that we aren’t preordained to assume a particular personality and mode of behaviour. Churchill’s spare, confrontational dialogue has a similar power and precision to Pinter at his best, and there isn’t an ounce of surplus fat on the piece. Timothy West plays the father with a mixture of furtive unease, gnawing guilt and a deeply moving vulnerability, both physical and emotional. Meanwhile Samuel West differentiates the three sons with high-definition panache. This is a play, and a production, worth 50 minutes of anyone’s time."


  • Libby Purves in The Times (four stars) - "Some plays — surreal, quirky, and especially if written by Caryl Churchill — are disastrously annoying in the wrong hands, but life-changing emotional earthquakes when they are done right. This is the latter: a 50-minute grip of the throat ... There is potential for even the cleverest script of this nature to infuriate. But Munby’s cast is special: Timothy West and his real son Sam, actors now of equal stature. Across the bare stage the emotion rises, crackles between them. Sam plays three sons... He hardly needs the changes of jacket in order to convince utterly ... Samuel West’s is a terrific performance, but the old father is at the heart of it. He is all of us in doubt and failure, the eternal faulty parent ... Timothy West, pausing, hunching, and raising those pointed eyebrows in bewilderment and challenge, raises irresistible tears."


  • Siobhan Murphy in the Metro (four stars) - "Caryl Churchill's coruscating two-hander about the nature of identity is given a jolly of raw humanity in director Jonathan Munby's production, as the actors facing each other as father and son(s) are theatrical dream team Timothy West and his real-life son, Samuel. The faint echoes of each other in their faces and gestures makes this short, sharp tricksy tale of loss, love, betrayal and illegal cloning at times desperately poignant. West Sr, as Salter, is by turns stumblingly apologetic and combatively defiant as the trust about what he instigates 35 years ago is forced out … West Jr has the tough task of portraying both Bernards ... He doesn't distinguish Bernard as much but... looks increasingly unnerved by his newly discovered 'father's' grief, which is both detached and ferocious.

  • - by Theo Bosanquet & Andrew Girvan
  • Tuesday, 5 October 2010

    Wests’ chemistry adds life to tale of father and his cloned sons in A Number

    A Number

    Description: Carol Churchill's award-winning drama about human cloning, starring father-and-son team Timothy and Samuel West. Directed by Jonathan Munby


    Wests’ chemistry adds life to tale of father and his cloned sons in A Number

    Caryl Churchill’s prickly, rewarding play about a father, his son and the son’s several cloned copies was premiered at the Royal Court eight years ago, starring Michael Gambon and Daniel Craig. Here, in a fine revival of a production previously seen in Sheffield, the roles belong to real-life father and son Timothy and Samuel West, and the chemistry between them is palpable.
    Natural chemistry: real-life father and son Timothy and Samuel West
    The play’s first words are “a number”. They’re addressed to Salter (Timothy West), who many years ago had his son cloned in the aftermath of a shocking bereavement. The line is spoken by Salter’s grown-up son Bernard; we soon gather he’s commenting on the many genetically identical versions of himself in existence.
    Bernard realises that instead of being truly individual he is part of a kind of tribe. As he and two of Salter’s other sons (all played by Samuel West) come calling, Churchill reflects on the question of what happens to personal identity in a society where the idea of uniqueness unravels.
    Her writing evokes the faltering, even inarticulate quality of Salter’s confrontations with his sons. They engage in a morbid dance, manoeuvring around each other and exchanging reflections on guilt, authenticity and duty.
    Theirs is a world in which everything has been fragmented, and the gap between them is both moral and generational.
    Samuel West manages in his three different guises to be pained, sardonic, resentful, brutish and suave. There’s a meaty rawness throughout.
    Timothy West gives a performance richly furbished with little tics and postural shifts that betray the intimate mechanics of self-justification.
    The refractory nature of their conversations is conveyed nicely by director Jonathan Munby. There are some unsettling lighting effects by Oliver Fenwick, while the defining feature of Paul Wills’s design is a huge rack of test tubes suspended above the actors: a clever visual joke about the way our scientific apparatus is well ahead of our ability to man-age the psychological consequences of Brave New World technology.
    Enigmatic, mournful and under-stated, A Number is a subtly compelling meditation on individuality. As I heard one audience member mutter, it’s a play for the head rather than the heart. Clinical in its precision, at 50 minutes it is hardly a full evening’s entertainment, but it will have audiences wrangling at length over the uncomfortable questions it invites.

    A Number, Menier Chocolate factory, review

    A Number, Menier Chocolate factory, review

    Timothy West and Samuel West play a father and his sons in Caryl Churchill's play that is as as emotionally upsetting as it is intellectually and morally profound. Rating: * * * *

    Tim West and Samuel West performing in A Number
     at the Menier Chocolate Factory Photo: Alastair Muir
     
    Caryl Churchill’s play lasts less than an hour but packs in more emotion, ideas, and disconcerting strangeness, than many dramatists manage in half a dozen dramas.
    First staged at the Royal Court in 2002, A Number now receives a superb revival at the Menier Chocolate Factory that adds a further twist. This is a play about a father and his sons and they are played here by Timothy West and his own son, Samuel.
    In the first scene we meet Bernard (35) who has always believed he is a much loved only child. However he has just discovered he has as many as twenty cloned brothers. Still worse, he may not even be the original from whom all the others were copied. He goes to his father, upset and confused, and his father insists that Bernard is his original, beloved son and the others were created without his knowledge or permission by the doctor involved. He even envisages a lucrative legal action that could make them as much as £5 million.
    But the father, Salter, isn’t telling the truth. In the next scene he is confronted by another Bernard (40) five years older than the one we met before, and very different in character. The younger Bernard was emotional, needy, loving. The older one is a vicious, possibly psychopathic thug. But then it transpires that his father treated him terribly in his childhood, and had him placed in care at the age of four, cloning a new version, whom he looked after much better. At the end we also meet a third of his many cloned sons.
    Out of a sci-fi scenario which could one day become a real-life possibility, Churchill creates a play that is as emotionally upsetting as it is intellectually and morally profound. But A Number, despite its darkness and echoes of Cain and Abel, is also an unexpectedly optimistic work.

    Tackling the nature-versus-nurture debate head-on, the dramatist concludes that human beings aren’t just the sum of their genetic parts, and that we aren’t preordained to assume a particular personality and mode of behaviour.
    Churchill’s spare, confrontational dialogue has a similar power and precision to Pinter at his best, and there isn’t an ounce of surplus fat on the piece. Timothy West plays the father with a mixture of furtive unease, gnawing guilt and a deeply moving vulnerability, both physical and emotional. Meanwhile Samuel West differentiates the three sons with high-definition panache. This is a play, and a production, worth 50 minutes of anyone’s time.

    Wednesday, 11 August 2010

    HighTide Festival 2010

    published August 11 2010

    HighTide are delighted to announce that award-winning actor and director Samuel West will be performing at the HighTide Arts Club. The Arts Club is an exclusive evening of short creative responses to oppression by emerging international artists and headlined by Samuel West.
    Samuel West’s most recent stage appearance was as Jeffrey Skilling in Lucy Prebble’s Enron. Extensive stage credits include Betrayal and The Family Reunion for the Donmar Warehouse, A Number and Much Ado About Nothing for Sheffield Theatres, Doctor Faustus and The Master and Margarita for Chichester Festival Theatre, the title roles in Hamlet and Richard II for the Royal Shakespeare Company (both directed by Steven Pimlott) and The Sea and Arcadia for the National Theatre. His film credits include Howards End, Notting Hill, Van Helsing, Persuasion and Iris and on television he has been seen in Foyles War, Cambridge Spies and as Ted Heath in Margaret Thatcher: The Long Walk to Finchley, . Forthcoming television includes Murder on the Orient Express and Any Human Heart. His directing work includes Waste for the Almeida and The Romans In Britain, Insignificance and As You Like It for Sheffield Theatres, where he was Artistic Director. He also directed Cosi Fan Tutte for English National Opera.
    Samuel West will read from Generation Jeans by Nikolai Khlezin of the Belarus Free Theatre.
    Two decades after the collapse of the Soviet Union, in White Russia (Belarus) Western gramophone records and jeans are still highly-desired ‘pieces of the free world’.

    In 1994 Alexander Lukashenko took office as president of Belarus. In the protest against this ‘last dictator in Europe’ a special part was played by jeans: a denim shirt was raised as a protest flag during a demonstration on 16th September 2005. This signalled the start of the ‘Jeans Revolution’.

    At the end of March 2005, Natalia Koliada and Nikolai Khalezin founded the Belarus Free Theatre. However, they have often clashed with the authorities and have been repeatedly jailed. In the meantime the company is enjoying increasing renown in the West and can count the late Harold Pinter and Vaclav Havel and Mick Jagger among their fans.

    In Generation Jeans, Nikolai Khalezin tells his semi-autobiographical story of the Jeans Revolution in Minsk. He approaches it seriously, but with some self-mockery. Theatre of great urgency, directness and wit.