An actor's job is pretending to be somebody else

Sally Cookson's Jane Eyre is back in London and many sites review it. Radio Times gives it 5 stars, summing it up as 'frenetic but powerful':

There’s a neat economy in the way the fixed set, like the cast, plays many parts; a skeletal structure provides a raised platform that is by turns a refuge, a sick bed, a dressing room. Against its stillness the cast’s movement is frenetic, as they clamber up and down ladders and run between pillars, apparently without much purpose.
One figure, though, moves with slow deliberation: Bertha Mason (Melanie Marshall), present from the outset as a sort of one-woman chorus and only later revealed as Rochester’s first wife. It’s a wisely understated take on the madwoman in the attic; her voice is haunting, while her physical restraint hints at menace, and violence is merely suggested by the vivid red of her dress.
As Jane, Nadia Clifford is the only other actor to play just one character, although she must embody both the unruly child and the mature governess, which she does well. Against the spare, industrial set Jane often appears elemental, gathering more control of the world around her as she ages; rain envelops her as a child at Gateshead, while at Thornfield gusts of wind embrace her, blowing at her dress and, later, suspending her wedding veil in mid-air. Fire, of course, destructive but also absolving, follows her.
In this the novel’s original sense of passions restrained and unloosed is clearly present, although Brontë purists may find fault with some of the production’s omissions, or elisions. Not much is made of Jane’s inheritance from her uncle, for example, which renders her return to Rochester an entirely romantic gesture, when in fact it’s also a practical one.
It also means that the production – which is long at more than three hours, including a 20-minute an interval – feels hurried at the finish, and almost slow at the start. But once the pace picks up, the action becomes involvingly kinetic, though inevitably it’s the stiller moments that have the most power. (Hannah Shaddock)

The production also gets 5 stars from The Upcoming.

The production excellently challenges the traditional way Jane Eyre is typically read and interprets it in a modern and original manner, with a stage that remains static throughout and actors who take on a number of roles; for example, Hannah Bristow acts as Helen Burns, Adèle, Grace Poole and Abbot. In particular memorable scenes with an intriguing artistic vision, the cast comes together to perform the same actions, expressing Jane travelling or her innermost thoughts.
Jane is depicted with an effective vivacity and calm modesty by Nadia Clifford, keeping true to Brontë’s protagonist. As director Sally Cookson explains, ‘Rather than approach the novel as a piece of costume drama, I was keen to explore the themes and get to the heart of the story’.
The play is presented with clarity and a deeper understanding of the multi-faceted text. It focuses not only on the relationship between Jane and Mr Rochester, but also depicts a heartwarming coming-of-age tale. At times hilarious (Paul Mundell as Rochester’s dog Pilot is a delight) and with evocative music played by Alex Heane, Matthew Churcher and David Ridley, complemented by the riveting voice of Melanie Marshall, the show is enthralling in all aspects, though bare in its set design.
Cookson stays loyal to the much-loved classic, and adds a stark freshness that is continually original. This adaptation smartly reflects the philosophy of Jane, proving to be a free-spirited play “with an independent will”. The piece creates a vividly intense portrayal and possesses as much soul and heart as one of literature’s most famous heroines.
With a brilliant cast and innovative stage design, this theatrical production will surely be deemed a modern classic in years to come. (Selina Begum)

LondonTheatre1 gives it 4 stars:

Despite a steady pace, then, and a three-hour plus running time, it still came across as somewhat hurried. That is better, I suppose, than a production that is too much of a slog. A live on stage band (in the alphabetical order given in the show’s programme, Matthew Churcher, Alex Heane and David Ridley) add some atmosphere to proceedings, supplemented well by the vocals of Melanie Marshall, who also plays Bertha Mason, the first wife of Mr Rochester (a suitably dulcet-toned Tim Delap). The National Theatre seems to like Gnarls Barkley’s chart-topping song ‘Crazy’, having previously used a version of it in their 2011 production of The Comedy of Errors. I won’t give it all away, but suffice to say it isn’t about or used against the mentally unstable Mason.
The title character, played by Nadia Clifford, is always on stage, and her costume changes are thus performed with the audience looking on. Paul Mundell’s Pilot, a dog, didn’t quite hit the spot with everyone – some in the opening night audience chortled while others were distinctly unimpressed – though as a performance, the animal movements and sounds were as authentic as they could reasonably be. Unfortunately, at least from my vantage point, the sound levels between the music, whether it was live or recorded, and the performers was not always perfect, and the odd lyric was missed.
Familiarity does not always breed contempt. Despite knowing what was going to happen, even if I had no idea how precisely it would be staged, I retained a genuine interest in the show. There were moments of humour, too. Whether they were intentional or not is another matter. A toilet break during a long journey went down a hoot with the audience, though my highlight was the rather absurd use of modern-day energy saving lightbulbs as lanterns in a Victorian setting. An instance of both colour and gender blind-casting takes place in Evelyn Miller’s St John. Miller’s mannerisms and physicality, which even extended to manspreading, were impressive.
It took a little while for the show to grow on me, but it nonetheless proved an intriguing and intelligent production. (Chris Omaweng)

The Reviews Hub gives it 4 stars too:

Devised by the Company, a real enthusiasm for the novel shines through every scene but coupled with a desire to shake off the period-drama tag, presenting a heroine who feels contemporary and relatable, a feat the production achieves with ease. There is a strong feminist backbone to this work which emphasises Jane’s quest for freedom and mutual respect, refusing to compromise her principles or her passions for an easy life.
With just seven cast members and three musicians, Cookson’s production creates Jane’s world, and on Michael Vale’s multi-level obstacle course set, the themes of the play and the seemingly insurmountable distance between the lovers is given physical shape. At times dresses drop in on hangars from the ceiling to suggest a school full of girls, or the crucial transitional moments in Jane’s life as she shrugs off one identity for another – schoolgirl, governess, bride, dispossessed woman.
Sound and music are also central to the storytelling, helping to create atmosphere, particularly with Melanie Marshall’s haunting voice that adds to Jane’s inner monologue, while drawing parallels with her own character Bertha. Dominic Bilkey’s sound design adds scale and mood at the right moments, complementing the minimal and fluid approach of the visual production.
As Jane herself, Nadia Clifford has the difficult task of playing her from the age of 10, comfortably demonstrating the growth into a more rational woman, while retaining some of that animalistic spirit from her youth. Clifford is a fiery and unyielding Jane which can make her difficult to sympathise with and slightly undercut the depth of her feelings for Rochester, but she conveys pain and loss extremely well, nurturing the continual public embarrassments that drive Jane’s desire for independence.
Tim Delap sidesteps that obviously brooding Rochester for an abrupt and even socially awkward interpretation instead. He’s blunt, unused to a more refined company and unwilling to change, but Delap suggests deep emotion both for Jane and his failed past that mean the production feels more vigorous when he’s on stage and evokes considerable pity.
The surrounding cast has as much to do as everybody else in the book, which they achieve with ease. Hannah Bristow distinctly plays Helen, Adele, Grace Poole and several others, while gender blind approaches allow Evelyn Miller to take on the roles of Blanche and St John. However, it is Paul Mundell who upstages everyone, even the leads, playing Pilot the dog who easily charms the audience and brings some of the only humour to the production.
The return of Jane Eyre to the National marks the end of two very successful years for a show that is strikingly new and yet faithful to its classic source material. At 3 hours and 15 minutes, it is a long night, and it only really begins to fly when Jane finally arrives at Thornfield, but there is much to enjoy in a production that is a salute to Jane Eyre, the first modern women. (Maryam Philpott)

The Stage gives it 3 out of 5 stars:

At first Nadia Clifford’s Jane is very difficult to hear, swallowed by the music and sound design. Eventually Clifford finds her voice, but it's a strange voice. She delivers lines and individual words at unpredictable pitches, casting up and down the octaves so that the result is unusual and a little off-putting.
Tim Delap as Rochester spits his lines out like a stern schoolmaster. There's charm beneath the bushy beard, but Delap throws a little rage in there too for a Rochester that's a bit of a domineering brute. Evelyn Miller is particularly strong as Bessie and St John among other characters, but it doesn't feel enough like the actors are inhabiting these parts.
Despite a very slow start, the production shakes off its inertia and, mainly thanks to Melanie Marshall as poor Bertha, wandering the stage like a ghost and only able to express herself through song, it ends on a high note. The songs she sings, like Gnarls Barkley's Crazy, as well as Benji Bower’s music in general, are really lovely.
This is clearly a very decent production, but it’s not in its finest form here. (Tim Bano)

Evening Standard also gives it 3 out of 5 stars:

The frequent episodes of climbing and trotting don’t always feel purposeful, and they don’t convey the complex psychology of Jane’s journey. It’s only when Nadia Clifford’s Jane begins to assert her independence that this three-hour show exerts its grip. Her relationship with Tim Delap’s stern Mr Rochester has moments of brooding ambiguity, offset by the lovely tail-wagging exuberance of Paul Mundell as his dog Pilot.
A three-piece onstage band adds more touches of quirkiness, and Benji Bower’s music highlights the authentic voice of Rochester’s first wife Bertha Mason. Dismissed in many accounts as ‘the madwoman in the attic’, she’s here given real substance by Melanie Marshall, whose soulful purity comes across even when gratingly required to perform a version of the Gnarls Barkley song Crazy.
But there’s not enough sense of the story’s landscape or of the particular intensity of Brontë’s language. Returning to the National Theatre after a nationwide tour, this is a resourceful staging, though not a truly invigorating breath of fresh Eyre. (Henry Hitchings)

The Arts Desk gives it 3 out of 5 stars too:

So far, so good, but Benji Bower’s musical score, at first deft and discreet, soon becomes overbearing, and its anachronisms increasingly bizarre. While the singer’s lush rendition of “Mad About the Boy” is merely confusing (which boy? who is mad about him?), her later attempt on “Crazy” by Gnarls Barkley goes too far. It’s as if Cookson and her composer tapped in a few psychiatric key words and used whichever songs came up.
The show’s pacing is also ultimately disappointing, given the commitment and energy of the cast. The story is slow in getting started, and despite the three-hour playing time the dénouement feels rushed and almost crudely curtailed. This is a shame when Clifford and her Mr Rochester, Tim Delap, have developed such a touching rapport. Angular and frowny rather than brooding, Delap may not be many readers’ ideal Master of Thornfield Hall, but he has internalised the backstory sufficiently to make us feel the painful remorse of a squandered life.
Elsewhere the production also works hard at conveying Jane’s inner dialogue – there is a nice visual motif of casement windows flung open, the panes empty frames manipulated by actors. But the show is less good on the physical sensations which are such a feature of the novel. We never feel the child-slaying chill of Lowood School, nor the echoing loneliness of Thornfield when the Master is away, nor Jane’s delirium when she leaves with nowhere to go and almost dies of cold and misery on the moors. One can only conclude that Brontë’s pen goes to places that live theatre can’t. (Jenny Gilbert)

Many sites publish the love letters Laurence Olivier wrote to Vivien Leigh during the time he was filming Wuthering Heights. Heathcliff's ardour seems to have rubbed off on him. The Daily Mail says,

Olivier was in Los Angeles filming 'Wuthering Heights,' and his love for Leigh had been taking a toll on his work according to his director.
'I really am in hell my love - the valley of the shadow. I've never felt quite such a grim feeling,' wrote Olivier. (Chris Spargo)

The Hollywood Reporter tells more:

When Olivier, in Los Angeles, tries to arrange a tryst with Leigh, Wuthering director William Wyler reprimands him, and Olivier seethes. "I really am in hell my love — the valley of the shadow," he writes her in England. "I've never felt quite such a grim feeling."
He's even angrier when Wyler challenges his acting, insisting Olivier look deep inside himself to create the volcanic Heathcliff rather than focus on external things. "Well really," he writes. "I stayed as patient as I could + explained that an actors job is pretending to be somebody else ...; He didn't argue very brilliantly." (Later, Olivier will do an about-face and consider Wyler's advice a turning point in his thinking.) (Stephen Galloway)

Reasons why 'Yorkshire is the best' in The Guardian.

Yorkshire has always been a cultural colossus, the land of JB Priestley, Alan Bennett and Brian Blessed, three Brontë literary giants in one Haworth house, Bond film composer John Barry, Ian McMillan and Barbara Hepworth, Ted Hughes and the Grimethorpe Colliery Band. (Dave Simpson)

Craven Herald & Pioneer looks for places 'worth the trip' nearby and finds the Brontë Parsonage Museum and the Mansions in the Sky exhibition to be so.

Liz Flanagan has written a post about her recent writing workshop at the Brontë Parsonage Museum.