My City review, Almeida

My City marks Stephen Poliakoff's return to stage writing and Tracey Ullman's return to the stage. One is rather more successful than the other. The play begins with a chance encounter on the Embankment. Richard is making a call when he spots his former Headmistress, Miss Lambert, asleep on a bench.

Head case

Delighted to see the woman whose lively imagination fired fellow pupils and gave him vital confidence, he finds himself on a surreal journey through the bowels of late night London, trying to unravel the story behind her nocturnal wandering. Ullman is compelling as the elegant Lambert, gathering and distilling vignettes of city life as the past threatens to engulf her. David Troughton as the Jewish teacher, Minken, literally carries everyone's baggage with him through life. Sorcha Cusack - I can only distinguish Cusacks by their waist measurements - is tart, Irish, Miss Summers.

Tom Riley's Richard is brilliantly disbelieving and disarming as the action unfolds. It's the play that's a let down. This is not because there's anything bad about it: it just isn't particularly wonderful. When Lambert addresses the audience like a school assembly, recreating the sounds and history of London past, it's magical. There are moments too of sadness, of wonder, and there's a joyful, permeating, eccentricity. But it's too long and it's leaking unnecessary fluff. There are too many stories, too many strands, too many spooky moments, and not enough ballast to prevent the end being a disappointment.

In conclusion:  If you've got tickets for My City, you won't regret it. Ullman alone is worth the effort and a new Poliakoff raises interest. But if you haven't got tickets, you won't regret it either. Stay as you are.

Reference
Almeida Theatre