Conversations With Friends: TV review

I reviewed the book quite negatively after watching the wonderful Normal People on TV during lockdown. My opinion was that despite Rooney’s rather dull writing style, in the hands of a great director like Lenny Abrahamson and, later in this particular series, Leanne Welham, her material is TV gold.

In between that post and this I read Rooney’s third novel, Beautiful World Where are You, it’s also terribly dull.

And the reviews of this, quite lengthy, TV production of Conversations with Friends had hardly been glowing – boring, boring, boring, oh and pretentious were the things I was seeing or perceiving.

So my expectations were low.

But it’s magical. It’s beautiful and it glows. That’s largely down to Lenny Abrahamson and his uncanny knack for casting brilliant double acts, although the female leads in this were far stronger than the male lead (Joe Alwyn as Nick).

In particular Alison Oliver as Frances is electrifying, although mainly a bit torn-faced I have to admit, but nevertheless utterly endearing and engaging. Coupled with her ex/not-ex girlfriend Bobbi (the remarkable Sasha Lane who enthralled us in American Honey) we have a truly class double act.

It’s glacially slow: actually that hypes its speed, but I could live with that because it creates a beautiful tone and mood that got us reaching for the next episode button as the titles played out.

What Rooney does do in her books is capture a real sense of how it is to be young and in fragile relationships, reliant still on your parents, who may or may not be reliable, and the sheer weight of being with someone, in this case a married man. It’s compelling on TV, rather less so on the page.

And it’s just lovely. Really lovely. So ignore the instant gratification critics and sink into this and just go with it.

Laurel And Hardy At the Royal Lyceum Theatre: Theatre Review.

Steve McNicoll is one of my favourite comic theatre actors and in this magnificent three hander he delivers his full repertoire with aplomb as Oliver Hardy. He is, however, up against Barnaby Power as Stan Laurel and he outbarrels Steve in a performance of great subtly. The third in the triumvirate is musical director John Beales who puts in a sterling performance of musical ambidextary that would merit a spotlight performance of his own.

Directed by Tony Cownie this is a return to the Lyceum stage of the same cast as in 2005 and it’s a welcome return indeed. I didn’t see the original but knew of it by reputation, so it was a real pleasure to fill in a ‘best of’ gap in my Panini sticker book of the Lyceum.

The grand old lady herself looked just as grand as the last time I visited her pre-pandemic and a few weel kent faces were met on the night.

But, to the play. Stan and Ollie are dead and are reminiscing in a ghost like set (magically designed) on their mostly, but not wholly, succesful careers. (For a different take you might enjoy the wonderful Stan and Ollie movie starring Steve Coogan and John C. Reilly).

Cownie imbues this reminiscence with many directorial tricks that include a wonderful early cinema scene using a strobe to great effect. There’s a wonderful slapstick scene involving lots of foam that had us rolling in the aisles and there’s baskets of props that aid dramatic character changes so that this becomes a 20 person show, not three.

But it’s in the performances that the show’s magic resides. Both capture the characteristics of their protagonists to perfection. When called upon both are hilarious but the skill of the play lies in its pathos as we explore some of the darker aspects of their lives.

This is highly recommended, even more so if you are fans of this colossus of world comedy. Now 100 years+ since their careers began, we can look forward to centennial re-runs of their work in the coming decade. For now, you’ll just have to do with seeing them in real life.