A bloody tale of incest brought from renaissance Parma to the contemporary streets of London, ‘Tis Pity She’s A Whore promises to be an intense and gripping tragedy from the risqué posters alone.

Obsession and idealism are central to the play. Adam Diaper plays Soranzo, the creepy, self-conceited husband of Arabella. He and another character, Giovanni, are not unlike in that they aspire to a perfect fantasy of Annabella as their own. Sadly this is something neither can ultimately achieve. The play brings the oft used idea of star-crossed lovers to the fore; hopefully the chemistry between Mostyn and Stocker will live up to this timeless theme.

The staging is ambitious: a mezzanine with a cluttered, lively bedroom standing eight foot high above the monochrome lounge below will be a difficult area to command in scenes with only one or two actors. In one of the scenes I previewed, the two leads and sibling lovers Giovanni and Annabella (Greg Mostyn and Kathy Stocker) threw themselves on stage in a whirlwind of energy and had me captivated for the entire scene. Stocker, whose character Annabella is a feisty, defiant young woman, definitely managed to hold court over both the men I saw her interact with. No doubt the audience too will be on her side.

The live band will make an engaging addition – director Will Felton says he wants everything to be “as live as possible” with a lot of thought going into lighting, choreography, projections and props (watch out for a dramatic climax enabled by some inventive prop use). The music which accompanies fantasy sequences is performed by talented musicians behind gauze screens below the bedroom in silhouette, illuminated with different colours depending on the mood of the scene. It not only adds aesthetically to the play but also aids the actors and draws in the audience by building momentum for the beginning of scenes.

The concept of a heterosexual relationship being taboo, when our recent news is largely associated with overturning the taboo on homosexual relationships, will be an intriguing theme to explore. Feyton says that the play, which he adapted, will be full of ‘aesthetically arresting images allowing the audience to decide for themselves’. Will the dramatic directorial choices make this play as powerful as it promises to be? We’ll have to wait until 7^th week to find out.

★★★★☆

The Monuments Men, George Clooney’s fourth directorial outing, based on his self-penned screenplay adaptation of the true story book, has the unenviable challenge of following his previous outstanding directorial endeavours (Good Night, and Good Luck and The Ides of March).

The film is set at the height of the Second World War. Germany has conquered much of the European mainland and is plundering the private and public art collections of the vanquished. Works which fail to conform with national socialist ideas and tastes are destroyed.

Clooney plays Frank Stokes, an altruistically concerned art aficionado who is determined to recover as much of the loot from Germany as possible. Stokes’ mission is given the go-ahead by President Roosevelt. He is commissioned as a lieutenant in the United States Army where he pulls together a small group of devoted art collectors, curators and architects, played on screen by an ensemble cast to die for (Bill Murray, John Goodman and Matt Damon among them).

It’s a dazzling set-up; the most cherished treasures of human creativity are on the brink of being lost forever, and this rag-tag group of drinkers, nerds and simple family men are the only ones interested in intervening.

The main focus of The Monuments Men is the dangers to which this group of ageing men are prepared to expose themselves for the sake of art. Goodman’s character hobbles around war-torn Europe aided by a walking stick, whilst Murray’s, in one hilarious sequence, is so intensely relaxed that he confronts a lone enemy soldier by lowering his own rifle, lying down on a patch of grass and lighting up a cigarette. They could not be any less suited to the theatre of war.

The film is subtle, elegant and respectful of its source material. Although it occasionally lapses into sentimentalism, this doesn’t spoil the overall tone. Clooney is increasingly proficient in his craft as a serious director
and manages to produce an engaging adaptation of a fascinating historical account. The film’s central message is that the heroism of the Second World War was not simply about destroying evil, but attempting to salvage good among a decimated Europe. The artwork detailed in The Monuments Men is a symbol of an identity worth preserving, and the courage of those few men who risked all for its sake is a spectacle you can’t help but admire.

Watching moving pictures has changed for good. Beau Willimon, the man behind the Netflix Original series House of Cards, has been quoted as saying that “television is a word that has lost all meaning”. This is a man who would know, and it is time we took notice of the potential of this new broadcasting landscape.

While old-fashioned television sets are clinging on for the moment, once Netflix completes its transition from niche streaming service to broadcasting behemoth, the whole paradigm of recorded film will be radically different. And for the better. 

Last month, Netflix production The Square, a documentary about Egypt’s Tahrir Square, was placed in the final five nominees for ‘Best Original Documentary Feature’ at the Academy Awards, and earlier this year Netflix’s House of Cards was awarded a Golden Globe. This success is telling for the future. Although media giants such as HBO continue to commission big budget, highly successful serials, other organisations like Netflix, without a base in the proverbial airwaves, are muscling in and demanding to be taken seriously. 

The Los Gatos based brand is redefining how we experience recorded drama. The company began way back in 1997 as an American mailorder version of the dearly departed Blockbuster. Yet, for most, it is the exciting prospect of on-demand movie streaming that marks out Netflix’s move from impressive start-up to fully paid-up members of the tech-glitterati. 

To understand quite how revolutionary Netflix is, we ought to consider the technology it utilises. I’m not simply talking about the graphics or the streaming software but the astonishing scale of personalisation and trendanalysis Netflix offers. Recent research by The Atlantic found that the Netflix website offers over 70,000 different personalised genres of film, highlighting the extent to which the company have created an intimate relationship between broadcaster and viewer.

Disconcerting as this is, I really can’t see a drawback in the fact that Netflix now knows that I enjoy watching ‘understated dramas
from the 1960s’. It’s convenient! 

Moreover, ‘Netflix Originals’ as a concept is a game-changer. The site is able to employ its market-reading technology in order to cater for the desires of its user-base in a way traditional media distributors can’t compete with. Take the revival of cult US comedy Arrested Development. The show, which starred Jason Bateman, Portia de Rossi, and a young Michael Cera to name but three, was originally dropped by Fox after just three seasons back in 2006. But last year Netfllix revived it, much to the delight of its niche, but vocal fanbase.

House of Cards is a show which capitalises upon the public’s interest in political thrillers and a general love for Kevin Spacey, but it is Orange is the New Black which best illustrates Netflix’s potential. A show set in a female-only prison and involving a multitude of LGBTQ characters in thought-provoking storylines is groundbreaking. Credit must go primarily to the show’s creator Jenji Kohan, but this is also a multimillion dollar corporation endorsing positive televisual attempts at articulating progressive ideas about gender.

The question is, would a show like Orange is the New Black ever have been commissioned by a traditional company? I cannot imagine regular broadcast channels backing such a radical concept. This highlights exactly how exciting this altered form of media might be. No longer are we limited to television which is bound by the conventions of being, for example, advert-friendly. These days everything from episodic drama to niche art-house films can be targeted at those who’d appreciate it.

What’s fascinating is that sites like Netflix are making millions, despite the thriving world of pirated television available online, by truly offering audiences what they want. It seems a long time ago that we were panicking about recording that episode of Neighbours over The Simpsons on video. The Internet, with Netflix its vanguard, has changed all of that, and we’re only just catching on.

Sweeney Todd, the fictional barber known for cutting his victims’ throats before having them served up as the main course in the neighbouring pie shop, is a figure drawn from Victorian urban legend, and immortalised in the Penny Dreadfuls of the period. What Stephen Sondheim’s acclaimed 1979 musical brings to the table is a large helping of motive and moral ambiguity, in the form of a tragic backstory involving a corrupt judge, and the rape of Sweeney’s beloved wife.

Vocally, the cast are very strong, and are supported by a talented (and tireless) band and conductor. The revolving set is elegantly conceived, and excellent and resourceful use is made of its multiple levels over the play’s two hour and forty five minute running time.

However, the production takes a while to become truly engaging. It is not until towards the end of the first act, when the play reaches its – ahem – meatier portions that it really gets into its stride. There are nonetheless some stellar performances, most notably Helena Wilson’s scene-stealing turn as Mrs Lovvett, Todd’s partner-in-crime, bringing an animated humour to the role which serves to really drive the play forward. Hannah Bristow is at turns hilarious and heart-wrenching as Tobias Ragg, and Nathan Ellis portrays Anthony Hope with an affectingly awkward and naïve quality appropriate to one of the play’s only indisputably moral characters. Andy Laithwaite’s performance as Sweeney is strong overall, but during his character’s less active moments he has a frustrating tendency to lapse into blankness, with little sense of any darker emotions bubbling underneath. This ultimately reduces the impact of his otherwise excellent performance; his interactions – both dramatic and harmonic – with his various “customers,” and particularly Chris Bland’s Judge Turpin are compelling.

Sweeney Todd’s strengths far outweigh its weaknesses, and, once the interminable first third or so is out of the way, it is incredibly entertaining, constituting a fascinating decline from the darkly humorous to the just plain dark. None of its faults are insurmountable, nor do they hold it back from being ultimately an excellent show.