![]() ![]() The entire cast spends most of the play on stage, which conveniently means that audience members here for the West End debut of ‘Games or Thrones’ star Emilia Clarke are profoundly unlikely to feel short-changed. ![]() Soutra Gilmour’s set is an unadorned chipboard box with a row of plastic chairs, the only stage trickery at work a couple of disorientating surprises from lighting designer Jackie Shemesh. But these last couple have pared things right down: he fills the room with the characters’ feelings and humanity, and cuts away everything else: no props, no period costumes, no fancy choreography. Lloyd made his name as a flamboyant alt-West End showman: he used to direct a lot of musicals, and his productions were invariably spattered with vivid sprays of gore. Both tuned down and cranked up, Jamie Lloyd’s long-delayed production of Chekhov’s ‘The Seagull’ does for samovars, scenery and, indeed, seagulls what his recent production of ‘Cyrano de Bergerac’ did for big noses - ie it scraps them entirely. ![]()
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