Review: Breaking the Code at Tower Theatre

Mathematician. War-hero. Victim. Alan Turing occupies a special place in British history. A brilliant mind, he cracked the Nazi’s enigma code, thus helping win the Second World War, and laid the groundwork for modern computer science. But he is also a victim of state repression. As a gay man, he was charged for indecency and chemically castrated. His legacy deserves to be honoured, as much as his treatment deserves to be condemned. 

Matt Cranfield and Joe Lewis in Breaking the Code. Photo courtesy of Tower Theatre Company (2019).

Matt Cranfield and Joe Lewis in Breaking the Code. Photo courtesy of Tower Theatre Company (2019).

Breaking the Code is a perfectly adequate (if somewhat uninspired) tribute to the great man. The play benefits from slick production, a brilliant central performance, and a story that deserves appreciation. However, there is no escaping a heavy-handed script, a lack of emotional engagement, and a rather conservative approach to storytelling that lacked invention, risk, and ultimately, reward. 

To speak of the positives, Matt Cranfield is magnificent as Turing. Cranfield’s portrayal is both humorous and humanising. He perfectly capturing a visionary thinker who, while not exactly given to social niceties, suffered loneliness, yearning, and a need to love and to be loved in kind. Joe Lewis also puts in a highly nuanced performance as Turing’s lover Ron, whose circumstances lead him to crime and cruelty. 

The production design is excellent, from set pieces to sound. I really loved Mike Nower’s coded walls, as well as the tap-tap-tapping of punched numbers that connected each scene. Sheila Burbidge and Peter Westbury’s costuming is also very fine, showing great period detail as well as considered choices for the play’s broad cast of characters. 

My real issue with Breaking the Code has more to do with what the play didn’t explore than what it did. While it’s true that Turing’s story is one that needs to be told, I wondered if the play could have taken a more inventive route – cutting out some of the (at times) lengthy dialogue for more active moments of empathy, pain, and revelation. 

Ian Recordon and Matt Cranfield in Breaking the Code. Photo courtesy of Tower Theatre Company (2019).

Ian Recordon and Matt Cranfield in Breaking the Code. Photo courtesy of Tower Theatre Company (2019).

The revival of Hugh Whitemore’s 1986 play is timely given the Bank of England’s recent announcement that Turing would be the face of a new £50 note. Aside from this context however, there is very little in the production that relates Turing’s story to the present moment. 

Turing would have been fascinated (and maybe disturbed) by the world we now inhabit, particularly one in which artificial intelligence is a daily presence in our lives. Addressing these developments could have made for some interesting discussion. Breaking the Code, while skilfully executed, ended up being a little too conventional for a man who was anything but.

Breaking the Code is showing at Tower Theatre until 19 October. Tickets available from the website.

Review: The Resistible Rise of Arturo UI at the Arcola

Confession time – I have never read Brecht. Until last weekend, I had never seen one his plays performed either. While I am familiar with his theory of alienation (largely due to a popular film podcast), the work of this great and influential playwright has largely escaped me.

This sorry fact probably disqualifies me from any kind of ‘serious’ theatre criticism. I don’t believe you need to have read a lot of books to enjoy art, and theatre should be no different. But given my ignorance of Brecht, could I still appreciate his work? And what might graduate of East 15 acting school achieve with the material – written at a time when Europe was falling to fascism, and performed now, at a time when it appears to be rearing its ugly head once more?

Photo courtesy of E15 LDN.

Photo courtesy of E15 LDN.

The answer is yes, and the results are mixed. The Resistible Rise of Arturo UI satirises Hitler’s rise to power by trading Nazis for Chicago mobsters. Arturo UI, a tyrant in the mould of Capone, takes control of the vegetable trade through blood and intimidation, purges his enemies and associates, and then takes over the whole city. Despite my apprehension, it’s a simple enough tale. It is a shame then, that this production often lost me in the details.

To be fair, marshalling such a large ensemble onstage is no easy feat. The performers come from East 15’s International Cohort, and are all clearly enjoying themselves as larger-than-life gangsters, whose accents and lingo are so immediately recognisable you can practically hear the hand gestures.

I was particularly impressed with Sean Dale’s commanding intensity as Arturo, Amanda Zappia’s thuggish pomposity as Roma (a clear reference to Ernst Röhm), Constantine Pinotsis’s leering Giri, and Stephanie Van Driesen’s charming turn as the announcer, whose blend of carnival barker, fool, and Greek chorus, was a joy to watch.

Photo courtesy of E15 LDN.

Photo courtesy of E15 LDN.

The animal masks, while reminiscent of Art Spiegelman’s Maus, were a nice touch. Doberman dogs represent Arturo’s henchmen (or perhaps Hitler’s brownshirts), while rabbits and pigs appear as the abused and oppressed city-folk brought to heel. The transitions between location and scene are smooth and effective, and the play has an infectious energy and rhythm that never lets up.

There are laughs but, appropriately, horror too. The climax of the play is breath-taking in this regard, where a triumphant Arturo lords it over a people scared and defeated, and who must now accept his rule or die. There is also a particularly powerful rendering of the Night of the Long Knives, where Roma pleads for mercy before being silenced by Arturo. These scenes are chilling, not only in how they are performed, but considering the reality that they were written in 1941, by a man that had only just escaped Nazi persecution.

The Resistible Rise of Arturo UI is not always easy to follow, partly by its many characters, but mostly by its shifts in tone. The moments of darkness are commendable, but jar with the rest of the show, which seems to sit more comfortably as comic farce than dark satire. Perhaps this is the point, but an abundance of campy turns, from gee-whizz reporters to cackling goons, robbed the production of any tension, and made much of the proceedings feel about as sinister as Bugsy Malone.

Ultimately, it comes down to taste. As a fan of historical satire, I would have enjoyed a darker production with a little more teeth, and one perhaps more appropriate to our times. Chicago mobsters were relevant to Brecht but seem somewhat dated in 2019 – an era hardly short of hustlers from which to draw inspiration.

Despite my criticisms, this was a fun if at times confusing show, brought to life by a talented ensemble of young actors that I look forward to seeing on stage again soon. Now where to begin with Brecht…