The Week The Week
flag of US
US
flag of UK
UK
https://cdn.mos.cms.futurecdn.net/skoGBi9qKFoUtnNWkovjJQ.jpg

SUBSCRIBE

Try 6 Free Issues

Sign in
  • View Profile
  • Sign out
  • The Explainer
  • Talking Points
  • The Week Recommends
  • Podcasts
  • Newsletters
  • From the Magazine
  • The Week Junior
  • More
    • Politics
    • World News
    • Business
    • Health
    • Science
    • Food & Drink
    • Travel
    • Culture
    • History
    • Personal Finance
    • Puzzles
    • Photos
    • The Blend
    • All Categories
  • Newsletter sign up Newsletter
  • Sunday Shortlist, from The Week
    A 'joyfully tongue-in-cheek' jamboree and the 'bizarre' world of Prince Andrew

     
    THEATRE REVIEW

    Twelfth Night or What You Will

    Robin Belfield's 'carnivalesque' show at Shakespeare's Globe

    If you seek the "fashionable Elizabethan melancholy" that has dominated so many productions of "Twelfth Night", you should "pack up your lyre and go elsewhere", said Rachel Halliburton in The Times. Robin Belfield's "carnivalesque" new staging of Shakespeare's "tale of mistaken identities and thwarted desires" at the Globe is a "riotous celebration of life".

    Belfield emphasises the farcical elements and the themes of gender and sexual fluidity, said Dzifa Benson in The Daily Telegraph – while Jean Chan's design adds to the mood of "licensed disorder", with a gleeful mishmash of eras and styles. With strong acting and a vibrant comic energy, it makes for a late-summer "jamboree" that's "joyfully tongue-in-cheek".

    "The production is studded with lovely performances," said Sarah Hemming in the Financial Times. Ronke Adékoluejó makes a "keenly intelligent and vividly impulsive" Viola; Laura Hanna impresses as Olivia; and Pearce Quigley's Malvolio is "extremely droll". But what's almost entirely missing are the "nuanced depths" of the best versions of "Twelfth Night".

    Subtlety is hard to convey in the wide open spaces of the Globe's yard, but this production "barely bothers with it at all", said Alun Hood on WhatsOnStage. It seems many of the actors have been directed to "mug, sashay and bawl their way through the play to such an extent that the characters feel less like real people than random assemblages of funny walks, facial tics and line deliveries ranging from flat to shrill". At times, the results are very funny – but the "poetry and exquisite melancholy of Shakespeare's text go for almost nothing".

    Certainly, this staging is "extremely knockabout, steering away from the play's anguished layers", said Arifa Akbar in The Guardian. The pangs of unrequited desire – the very heart of "Twelfth Night" – are never quite felt, and the angst of the central romances is "swallowed up by laughter and lightness". In some cases, too, the verse is "dampened by unremarkable delivery". For all that, though, this production has "oodles of charm and midsummer madness". "Make of it what you will, I suppose."

    Globe Theatre, London SE1. Until 25 October

     
     
    TV REVIEW

    Hostage

    Suranne Jones stars as prime minister Abigail Dalton in Netflix's political thriller 

    The past few years have seen a proliferation of political thrillers reflecting fears that democracy "is in a state of peril", said Rebecca Nicholson in the Financial Times. The latest is Netflix's "Hostage", "a fun, fast and brash potboiler" starring Suranne Jones as decent, idealistic British prime minister Abigail Dalton. Eight months after she takes office, the NHS is on the verge of collapse due to a shortage of cancer drugs; France has the goods, but its right-wing president, Vivienne Toussaint (Julie Delpy), makes a delivery conditional on Britain taking in more refugees from Calais.

    The tempo is suddenly upped when Dalton's doctor husband (Ashley Thomas) is kidnapped in French Guiana, and his assailants threaten to kill him unless she resigns. Protocol demands the government won't negotiate with terrorists; but will this stand when it's the PM's husband's life that is at stake?

    The real "hostage" turns out to be Dalton herself, said Keith Watson in The Telegraph. She is "forever at the centre of a damned if you do, damned if you don't dilemma", and Jones does a great job of "looking battered, bruised and relentlessly defiant". Alas, the series soon loses focus, throwing up endless plot twists and "an overflowing kitchen sink of contemporary issues". 

    "I really, really wanted to love 'Hostage'," said Helen Coffey in The Independent. But the storyline is "wonky" and often silly. "I kept waiting for the 'aha' moment when I would finally get why all this was happening, and it never quite arrived."

     
     
    ALBUM review

    Laufey: A Matter of Time

    The Grammy-winning Icelandic singer-songwriter Laufey has carved out a singular and impressive niche, said Victoria Segal in The Times. On her 2022 debut "Everything I Know About Love" and 2023's "Bewitched", her jazz-pop evoked the "velvet banquettes and cocktail cherries of a lost 1950s world" – to "TikTok-conquering" effect. Her terrific third album "A Matter of Time" continues in the same vein: this is "clever, funny, time-travelling pop, full of enchantments".

    Musically, Laufey's style is steeped in the "glamour and glitz" of greats such as Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin and Ella Fitzgerald, said Roisin O'Connor in The Independent. Orchestral strings, mournful saxophone solos and heart-pattering drum beats conjure up the romance of a "Paris rendezvous or New York cocktail hour". Lyrically, however, Laufey's songwriting is bang on trend, with the "kind of confessional storytelling that makes Taylor Swift so relatable". Standouts here include the lovely "Carousel"; the "spellbinding flair" of "Forget-Me-Not"; and the "heart-rending" "Sabotage". What a "sublime" album.

     
     
    BOOK OF THE WEEK

    Entitled: The Rise and Fall of the House of York

    by Andrew Lownie

    "Many would have preferred this book not to be written, including the Yorks themselves."

    So begins this deep dive into the "bizarre, tormented and sometimes wild world" of Prince Andrew and Sarah Ferguson, said Kate Mansey in The Times.

    It is, centrally, a biography of the Duke himself, focused on his fall in recent years "from Falklands war hero to national disgrace". And it gives a "devastating" account of a life that its author, Andrew Lownie, portrays as both tragic (because Andrew's "character flaws" have determined his fate) and "so eccentric as to be laughable". There are many "cringe-inducing vignettes", including tales of Andrew's puerile jokes, odd habits and "rudeness" to staff. We learn of a punch-up with Prince Harry that left Andrew with a bloody nose (denied by Harry). More troubling are Lownie's allegations about the Duke's dealings with "some of the world's most undesirable businessmen", and his life as a "globetrotting womaniser", culminating in his friendship with Jeffrey Epstein and the alleged abuse, long denied by Andrew, of 17-year-old Virginia Giuffre.

    Lownie has previously written "similarly scabrous" books about the Mountbattens and the Duke of Windsor, and the revelations here are "predictably marmalade-dropping", said Alexander Larman in The Spectator. Nicknamed "Baby Grumpling" as an infant, Andrew was his mother's favourite child, but even she said he was "not always a little ray of sunshine". His Gordonstoun contemporaries remembered him as bullying and "arrogant". Lownie claims (without much evidence) that he has slept with "more than 1,000" women, and alleges that 40 escorts were sent to his hotel room during a single four-night trip to Thailand. However, Andrew also cuts a "lonely, essentially friendless figure", shy and oddly keen to help people; one source says his crossing paths with Epstein was like "putting a rattlesnake in an aquarium with a mouse". In his account of the Duke's subsequent disgrace and downfall, Lownie "achieves the near-impossible: one almost feels sorry for Prince Andrew".

    As for Fergie, most of the news concerns her "spendthrift gluttony", said Christopher Howse in The Telegraph. She allegedly spent £25,000 in just one hour at Bloomingdale's, used to take nine holidays a year, employed 17 members of staff, demands a "banquet" be laid out every night, and so on. Overall, I found Lownie's tone towards the pair unkind, and his endless litany of accusations implausible and ultimately "indigestible". 

     
     
    OBITUARY

    Terence Stamp 

    Icon of London's Swinging Sixties

    Terence Stamp, who has died aged 87, was an emblematic figure of the Swinging Sixties, said The Guardian. Dubbed "the world's best-looking man" by the press, he was in constant demand by some of the greatest directors of the day, from Ken Loach to Federico Fellini. He played the swaggering Sergeant Troy in John Schlesinger's adaptation of "Far from the Madding Crowd" (1967); the irresponsible boyfriend in Loach's "Poor Cow" (1967); and Monica Vitti's knife-throwing sidekick in "Modesty Blaise" (1966). He was romantically involved with Julie Christie, and had a long relationship with Jean Shrimpton; he caroused with his flatmate Michael Caine. Despite his extensive and varied work in the decades that followed, Stamp will "always be associated with that exhilarating period".

    Terence Henry Stamp was born in east London in 1938, the eldest son of Thomas Stamp, a merchant seaman and Thames tug boat stoker, and Ethel, "who had her work cut out bringing up four sons and one daughter", said The Times. Bombed out of Stepney, the family moved to Plaistow, where the eldest attended grammar school, and then got a job at a London advertising agency. All the while, he nursed a desire to be an actor. But it wasn't until he saw James Dean in "East of Eden", he recalled, that he thought: "Maybe I could actually do this." Soon after, he got a place at Webber Douglas drama school. His father, a remote alcoholic, was unimpressed by son's ambitions and penchant for sharp dressing, calling him "Little Lord Flaunt". Although working-class actors were suddenly in demand in edgy films, Stamp's first screen role was a traditional one: in Peter Ustinov's "Billy Budd" (1962), which resulted in an Oscar nod. The film, and a string of big roles that followed, such as the warped clerk in "The Collector" (1965), made him famous. Stamp's romance with Christie is thought to have given The Kinks their lines about "Terry and Julie" in "Waterloo Sunset"; and he opened a chic canteen in Chelsea with the photographer Terence Donovan.

    Yet at the end of the 1960s, his career fell off a cliff. "It's a mystery to me," he observed. "I was in my prime, but when the 1960s ended, I ended with it." His agent informed him that directors were now "looking for a young Terence Stamp". In 1969, he suddenly left London. Having long been interested in eastern mysticism, for several years he led "a nomadic hippy existence off the beaten track". He became a vegetarian, took up yoga and transcendental meditation, studied Sufism and experimented with fasting and celibacy. He spent several years in an ashram in India, in Pune, studying under Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh. He was meditating there in 1976 when he received a telegram addressed to "Clarence Stamp", offering him the role of the villainous General Zod in the first major "Superman" film. Having feared that he would never act again, he promptly took the next plane out. "Superman" and its sequel proved to be massive hits. And Stamp, relaunched, remained busily employed for the next four decades.

    Notable successes included his roles in Oliver Stone's "Wall Street" (1987); Steven Soderbergh's "The Limey" (1999); and his bravura performance as the drag queen Bernadette in the Australian film "The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert" (1994), which netted him Bafta and Golden Globe nominations. But "despite flashes of brilliance, it was agreed that his career had never scaled the heights it once seemed to promise", said The Telegraph. Perhaps in part this was because he was thought chilly and difficult professionally, seldom getting on with directors. Stamp remained unmarried until 2002, when he wed Elizabeth O'Rourke, some 35 years his junior; the marriage was dissolved in 2008. In later life he lived an almost ascetic existence in his rooms at Albany in Piccadilly. He travelled by bus (with a bus pass), and spent little on food and clothes. He devoted two hours a day to meditation and yoga, and said that he taught his many godchildren to recite mantras and to stand on their heads.

     

    Recent editions

    • Saturday Wrap

      A free-speech martyr?

    • Evening Review

      Will a chickenpox jab revive faith in vaccines?

    • Morning Report

      Deadly Kyiv strikes damage EU office

    VIEW ALL
    TheWeek
    • About Us
    • Contact Future's experts
    • Terms and Conditions
    • Privacy Policy
    • Cookie Policy
    • Advertise With Us

    The Week UK is part of Future plc, an international media group and leading digital publisher. Visit our corporate site.

    © Future Publishing Limited Quay House, The Ambury, Bath BA1 1UA. All rights reserved. England and Wales company registration number 2008885.