Hymn: Will Gompertz reviews live-streamed play with Adrian Lester & Danny Sapani ★★★★☆
- Published
To be honest, the opening night of Hymn - Lolita Chakrabarti's new play at the Almeida Theatre - was the dullest I'd ever attended. There was no buzz, no booze, and no applause.
What's more, my seat was uncomfortable and the noise from the nearby kitchen, palpable. Still, one should be thankful for small mercies, at least there wasn't an unfeasibly tall bloke with a large hat sitting in front of me obscuring the view, nor was there any coughing to distract one's attention.
This was an opening night, Covid-style.
At home, in front of a computer screen, in a tiny study (the kids had command of the TV in the living room) sitting on a wooden chair waiting for the countdown clock in the corner of my monitor to reach 00:00, which it did at 8pm precisely.
There was no curtain to go up, just face masks to remove as the actors made their way onto the stage to be welcomed by an eerie silence, four cameras, and an invisible audience of 1400 online punters (along with any friends they'd invited along to watch the show) who had paid £15 a ticket or more, if they chose to add a voluntary donation.
The cost to the Almeida of producing and live-streaming the 90-minute play was not cheap, but at least it didn't have a cast of thousands. Or hundreds. Or tens.
Just two, in fact: Adrian Lester (Hustle) who plays Gil, and Danny Sapani (Killing Eve) as his soon-to-be new best buddy, Benny.
The show opens with Benny upstage, railing against life while being comforted by a bottle of liquor. Gil is at the back sitting behind a piano. He plays the opening chords of Bill Withers' Lean On Me. He stops, comes forward, and delivers a eulogy at his father's funeral. Now it is Benny hanging around at the back.
When the unseen mourners disperse the two 50-year-old men are left alone together.
They have an awkward conversation in which the self-confident Gil is highly suspicious of the more introspective Benny's claim that they have a recently deceased father in common. "He's not even cold yet!", says Gil in response to what he suspects is a rank piece of opportunism by this unknown fella.
And so begins Hymn, Lolita Chakrabarti's tale of an unlikely bromance between the gregarious Gil and the circumspect Benny.
A classic case of opposites attracting, as each finds in the other an admirable quality they feel they lack in themselves.
Gil is optimistic and adventurous. He has ambition.
Benny is steady and cautious. He has 10 grand. He's spent years saving it up for a rainy day but Gil has other ideas for it…
Chakrabarti (Red Velvet) said she wanted to write a play about a burgeoning love between two men which was not sexual but was deeply emotional. It is a subject that has fascinated her for some time having observed male friends, relatives and her husband (Adrian Lester) over the years. An intimate male relationship under the female gaze (the play is directed by Blanche McIntyre) is not something she recalls having seen on stage before.
Hymn is the summation of what she has witnessed: a play in which Gil and Benny discover that together they strike a chord, or, in a story that that rings true from the first note to the last, sing from the same hymn sheet.
Lester and Sapani bring a sweaty physicality to their increasingly intense relationship. They are constantly sparring with one another - either physically or verbally: cajoling, ingratiating and dreaming of a better life together.
It is a good piece of work in all respects, although it might err on the dramatically predictable for some tastes. But the writing is crisp and witty, while the directing - both on stage and the live-mixing on camera - keeps the story moving along. The regular jumps in time and space are mostly successful, although once or twice the opportunity to flesh out the motivations behind the deepening relationship between Gil and Benny is missed in favour of cracking on to the next scene.
Lester and Sapani are outstanding.
Only at the very beginning do you get any sense that you are watching a play being filmed in an empty auditorium, not a bespoke piece of content designed for television.
In the early exchanges the speech patterns and pauses actors use when on stage - as opposed to a more naturalistic style on telly - feel a little mannered (Lester said "the quality of silence changes" in a full auditorium, which, when absent, makes performing "nerve-wracking"). But you soon adjust, or they do, or both - after which you are immersed in a wonderful theatrical pas de deux that draws you in like a blazing fire on a freezing night.
It is a joy to see live theatre back up and running, albeit in compromised circumstances.
Rupert Goold, the Almeida's artistic director, deserves a lot of credit for making this excellent show available to the public.
It was a bold pivot to go from a play programmed for a theatre audience to a highly convincing on-screen drama in the space of a few weeks. To do it under social distancing rules when the actors can't convey feeling with a hug or high five and rarely get within two metres of each other is an extraordinary achievement by all involved.
And then there's the constant threat of Covid coming to spoil the party, which it very nearly did when Chakrabarti and Lester tested positive a few weeks ago.
All in all, Hymn is a triumph of creativity over adversity and thoroughly deserves a standing ovation.
Hymn at the Almeida Theatre is being streamed live on Saturday and Sunday and a recording of the show will be made available online in due course.
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