If you are someone who enjoys comedy, this is not the play for you. Endgame is bleak. And I mean quasi-apocalyptic, legless humans living in bins sort of bleak. Originally written in French as Fin de Partie, the play’s name refers to the dying moments of a chess game when only a few lone pieces remain standing.

Centred on leaving and the characters’ painful inability to do so, silence litters the dialogue like rests falling on a musical score. Director Samantha Losey adeptly highlights this, emphasising the nothingness between lines: words, shouts, wails and sobs echo into silence. The effect is simultaneously profound, tender and disturbing.

The focus in Endgame inevitably falls on the four actors; aside from a smidgeon of overacting in parts, and the redundant use of silly accents (Sam Bright’s unfortunately camp choice of twang for the character of Clov was bizarrely reminiscent of Frank Spencer) the actors pull it off with style and heaps of dark humour.

Will Spray, in the role of blind wheelchair-bound Hamm, dominates the stage. With his bedraggled hair and weary, bloodshot eyes (maybe due more to his 21st Birthday the night before than to absolute synthesis with the character) he is genuinely terrifying in parts, whilst also ably managing moments of warmth and tenderness. Exchanges between Nell (Rowan Parkes) and Nagg (Benjamin Coopman) are a treat – paradoxically hopeless yet full of vitality, they ooze black, uncomfortable humour.

The stage design (a giant chess-board) will elaborate upon Beckett’s chess metaphor; characters figuratively become pieces, unable to move. Though inventive, my small concern is that some of the existential hopelessness of a life that is, after all, meaningless may be lost with the prevailing inter-scene suggestion of an omnipotent presence.

Yet in a play where the overriding sense is that of desire to leave, I found myself truly gripped, moved, and invariably wanting to stay.

Three stars

Richard III: one of Shakespeare’s least likeable villains in one of his longest history plays. But just as Milton secretly preferred Satan to God, so an audience secretly revels in watching a real bastard ruin the lives of those around him.

All credit to director Natalie Holden for weaving a darkly exciting ghost ride through the bloody Wars of the Roses. Some of the play’s more tedious elements have been sensibly streamlined, emphasising supernatural fatalism at the expense of political motifs. On a limited budget and making full use of the OFS’ winding balconies and stairways, this is an unexpected but satisfying interpretation.

Jack Chedburn gives a blistering performance of manic intensity, his Richard stripped of sympathy or austerity and whittled down to a core of deformed energy. He is Clockwork Orange-esque, a cunning delinquent writ large as a king, with touches of poetic psychosis and a deluded grandeur that grows ever darker and more directed after his coronation.

Rather than failing to match classic portrayals of the role like Olivier or McKellen, Chedburn’s anti-majesty is perfect for a student cast, yet still capable of subtlety and flashes of humour even as his machinations collapse around him.

The other outstanding performance is Flossie Draper as Queen Elizabeth, who is a powerful counterpoint to Richard’s excesses: one almost believes that the kingdom rests on her shoulders, not his. Their exchange of anger in Act IV is magnificent and a surprising highlight before the play’s climax at Bosworth Field.

The rest of the cast are solid enough, particularly Charlotte Bayley as Anne, who oozes crushed worthlessness in Richard’s devilish games. Ed Boulle’s Buckingham is a slick and attentive spin-doctor, and Max Hoehn a capable King Edward, although his illness was rather overwrought. I must admit, though, that I had little sympathy for the murdered Clarence’s daughter Margaret, played callously by Alice Hamilton.

But forget a few teething criticisms: there are two excellent performances leading a fresh reading of the play. This is an electric, vital Richard III hard-wired for modernity.

Four stars

Barack Obama told Aaron Sorkin that his intention was ‘to steal a lot of your lines.’

Watching this compelling performance of Sorkin’s play, it is easy to see why. A Few Good Men forces us to question what we think we know about truth, justice and honour, and how far we should go to protect what is ‘good.’

The play opens after the death of PFC Willy Santiago at the US Marine base in Guantanamo Bay. Two young Marines, Downey and Dawson, are accused of killing him during an illegal disciplinary measure – ‘Code Red’.

Their case is noticed by Commander Joanne Galloway, an inexperienced and idealistic lawyer, who then persuades the assigned officials to allow her to work with them. The plot follows their attempt to piece together a defence and culminates in an explosive courtroom scene where the ‘honourable’ nature of the US Marine Corps is called into question.

The ‘quick-fire’ energy of the play was immediately palpable, and the cast work skillfully as an ensemble. Tor Lupton gave an exceptional performance as Galloway, delivering her pithy lines with aplomb, and speaking volumes with her emotive facial expressions.

She laudably managed the transition from an initially unlikeable character into an engaging and admirable one. Sam Caird’s Kaffee was strong, effectively conveying his naïve bewilderment at the ‘Marine Way’.

Archie Davies and Matt Orton are scene-stealing as Downey and Dawson; entirely in sync, their bond is clear. Davies portrays Downey superbly as a vulnerable and confused boy who looks to Dawson for guidance, while Orton’s Dawson effectively conveys his growing sense of desperation as the system he loves begins to fail him.

Vic Putz chillingly conveys Jessep’s supreme arrogance, although he is a little static and sometimes lacks variety of tone; his immortal line about truth feels like it should have more force.

Tim Hoare’s direction is effective; his well-thought-out blocking carefully reflects the stifling atmosphere of the play.
This a superb production of an excellent play, performed by a fantastic cast. With some deeply affecting lines, A Few Good Men illuminates the grey area between good and bad. It is provocative, challenging and funny.

Theatre, at it’s most effective, can play a powerful role in sharpening public consciousness, if not actively evoking change. In the intensity of today’s international climate, this production poses pertinent, if uncomfortable questions for anyone who has ever wondered how far we are prepared to go for our beliefs, both as citizens and as individuals.

Five stars

JazzSoc Jam

Thirst Lodge; Thursdays, 9pm; £1

Harry Thompson

Upstairs at Thirst lodge and a handful of drunken people are involved in a poor imitation of what I presume is Salsa, whereas downstairs the air is close, the fingers are clicking and JazzSoc’s thursday night jazz jam is in stylish swing.

The format is essentially this: turn up with an instrument and get on the stage. For all your humble writer’s alleged musical knowledge, his skills at playing it are limited to whistling and rocking a mean air drum, so I did not perform. But those who did bring their saxophones, basses – double and guitar – trombones and trumpets produced some brilliant impromptu performances.

All comers played from Real Books, using jazz standards as a jumping off point to endless riffing and improvising on both solo and group efforts. A highlight was one trumpeter hitting such audaciously high notes that I can only assume left his lips in a pulpy mess.

The Thirst Lodge’s basement venue isn’t particularly spacious, but there’s a well-stocked bar and still enough room for eager jazz punters to get in the standard jazz appreciation moves – the ubiquitous finger click, the involved foot-tap, the expressive nod accompanied by over-bite – and I can’t help but indulge in all of them.

Saxophonist Peter Daunton, who played a great set with fellow bandmates of local group The Oxford Tubes, says, ‘It’s a great opportunity to play in a friendly atmosphere and have the ability to freely experiment on stage’.

The night is undeniable fun for performers, aficionados and Jazz-virgins alike and, for the princely sum of £1, a cheap and thoroughly enjoyable way of spending an evening.

Jazz & Sausages

The Big Bang Restaurant, Jericho; Tuesdays, 8pm; main meal and jazz £15

Alex Watson

There are those who say that jazz is an outdated relic. They’re wrong. I would defend in particular the British ‘new school’ of Polar Bear, Soweto Kinch et al. as a community still able to innovate intelligently and productively, while keeping true to the jazz ‘message’ pioneered by Davis, Coltrane and Parker – that of improvisation and soul.

However, the Big Bang Sausage Restaurant (pictured above), huddled between glitzy cocktail bars and expensive restaurants along Marston Road in Jericho, is, predictably, not the place to find evidence of this.

In an atmospheric basement, the enthusiastic restaurant staff serve excellent portions of bangers and mash while a house band of Martin Pickett and Paul Jeffries on keyboard and bass, augmented by local talent, forge on through some easy-listening jazz, all for the fair price of £15.

It’s hard not to recommend this ‘jazz night’, since the food is so appetising, and the opportunity to listen to jazz and have a candle-lit dinner in such a cosy locale seems so enticing. Unfortunately, for the jazz enthusiast at least, the music is pretty standard fare.

Of course, this jazz night is designed to perform a function, and it certainly does so with aplomb. The music enhances the dining experience and is not so intrusive as to totally stop conversation. However, when I visited I left with the impression that the band had never even grazed the limits of their abilities and were very comfortable churning out sweet, unchallenging versions of jazz standards.

In short, this is a great concept, and many will be utterly satisfied with the experience. Just don’t expect the music to be as fresh and spicy as the sausages.

OU Big Band & The Oxford Gargoyles

Magdalen Auditorium; Saturday 7th week, 8pm; £5

James Archer

Most people’s contact with Oxford’s student jazz scene is the University’s three big bands. The Donut Kings can claim to be Oxford’s hardest working student ensemble, and few would dispute that they are the most fun, while the OU Jazz Orchestra will be showcasing an exciting range of repertoire at a Varsity contest in Hilary term.

Meanwhile, the Big Band has cemented its place as Oxford’s flagship jazz ensemble with an unprecedented series of foreign tours. The OUBB’s joint concert with the European a cappella champions, the Oxford Gargoyles, promises to be the jazz event of the term.

Both ensembles will bring down the house at Magdalen auditorium with a mix of classic and contemporary material and exciting original compositions.

Really, there’s never been a better time to look beyond that infamous turtleneck jumper and discover the talent of our best student musicians. ‘Nice!’, I’m sure you’ll agree.