national-theatre

10

Photos from the National Theater’s new revival of “Amadeus” by Peter Schaffer.

Love the diverse cast and the fact that they have a live orchestra onstage! I think it’s a great way to really make the music in the piece (and there is a lot) come alive. 

It’s a very vibrant color pallet (the golds, the green, check out Constanze’s dresses!) and an interesting architectural set design. Is that a hydraulic orchestra pit?

I wonder if the opulence of the costumes/lighting paired with the harsher set and “modern” clothes of some of the cast and musicians is meant to highlight the genius/mediocrity theme of the play. 

This is one of my favorite shows, I wish I could go see it!

les mis (national theatre) review

holy shit. where do i even start.

jean valjean was the real mvp. like i still dont know if this guy was real? his soliloquy brought me to tears and bring him home was a showstopper. during his final scene, you could hear everyone sniffling.

javert started off a little quiet, but during the 2nd half of the show his voice was a lot stronger. the effects on his suicide were stunning, and afterwards the audience clapped for a rlly long time.

fantine was a blessing. like an actual angel. her soprano was so nice to listen to, though she did struggle w low notes.

cosette& eponine. they were so incredibly well cast. cosette was so light and bubbly and brought happiness wherever she went. eponine fucking slayed. like everytime she was on stage, she captured the audience. when she died- you could feel your heart break.

the thenardiers were the comic relief. a really good comic relief. like thank god for the thenardiers. but they’re also dicks.

GAVROCHE. NEEDS. A. FUCKING. MEDAL. this kid makes your heart soar and break. him and grantaire were besties and it was honestly the best part of the show. they were always near eachover. after grantaires part in drink with me, he had like a little emotional breakdown and gavroche ran and hugged him. anyway, i loved that kid.

marius pontmercy was so amazing. during heart full of love he was so shy and it was like, omg, somebody get courfeyac to give this bby some dating advice. empty chairs at empty tables killed me. then resurrected me&killed me again.

gran-fucking-taire. i..i was stunned. he had the most beautiful, emotional voice. during ‘put that bottle down’ he blew kisses at enjolras. and at ‘our little lives don’t count at all’ he looked so, so sad. then at gavroches death he held him for so long and didn’t leave his body till one of the other students got shot& then he and enjolras ran to help. &then him and enjolras held eachovers shoulders (and almost kissed) so yeah.

enjolras! oh! my! god! his acting was on point. sadly his voice was mis cast. he was way too low for enjolras. BUT THE ACTING. during 'marius’s red and black’ he looked so done? it was great. and he was so, so passionate. you could see why r fell in love with him. when you saw his dead body in the cart, he looked like a fallen angel.

the rest of the les amis de l'abc were also really good. over all everyone was extremely talented.

10/10 would recommend for those in the dc area.

Imelda Staunton is unforgettable as Sally, a woman who has never got over her youthful love for Ben. Pent-up with nervous, frumpy, anxious-to-please energy as the start she becomes disturbingly delusional about the chances of rekindling the union as the evening progresses and seems to have succumbed to clinical psychosis by the time she gives an unforgettably angry and desperate rendition of “Losing My Mind”. She’s wasted all those years on somebody who was never there. | National Theatre (September, 2017)

You have to implicate the audience. They’ve got to squirm, not just over what happens, but because they did nothing about it. They had all the knowledge – this guy was not to be trusted – and they just sat there. People have jumped onstage to stop Iago, wrestled him to the ground. One actor in the 19th century was killed in the part, shot by an audience member. I’m glad that didn’t happen. Maybe I just wasn’t good enough.
—  Rory Kinnear on Iago