Electra / Persona – National Theatre

⭐ 2.5/5

Electra/Persona review

Having seen Cate Blanchett in The Seagull last year, I was genuinely excited to get tickets for Electra / Persona at the National Theatre. Unsurprisingly, the Lyttelton Theatre was packed.

Cate Blanchett is one of those actors I'd happily book to see without knowing much about the play, and this time she's appearing alongside the brilliant German actress Nina Hoss.

I went in with incredibly high expectations.

Unfortunately, almost from the beginning, I found myself more perplexed than captivated. I came out feeling that I'd watched something incredibly clever, beautifully acted and technically impressive — but I hadn't particularly enjoyed it.

And sometimes theatre is just like that.

So, what actually is Electra / Persona? This is where things get slightly complicated.

Writer and director Benedict Andrews has taken two completely different stories and put them together into one production. Its an ambitious undertaking.

The first is Electra, an ancient Greek tragedy by Sophocles. Very simply, Electra's father has been murdered by her mother, Clytemnestra, and Electra is consumed by grief, anger and a desire for revenge. So far, relatively straightforward.

The second half is based on Persona, the famous 1966 film by Swedish director Ingmar Bergman. This follows an actress called Elisabet who suddenly stops speaking. A nurse called Alma is sent to care for her, and as the two women spend more time together, their personalities and identities begin to blur.

There's actually a clever reason for putting these particular stories together: in Bergman's original film, Elisabet stops speaking while performing Electra. Benedict Andrews takes that connection and runs with it.

The production explores women, mothers and daughters, identity, grief and the difference between who we really are and the roles we play for other people. It's a fascinating idea.

I'm just not convinced it makes for a fascinating two hours of theatre.

One of the most interesting things happens before the play even begins. Cate Blanchett and Nina Hoss come onto the stage and flip a coin to decide who will play which characters that evening. One will play Electra in the first story and Elisabet in the second. The other plays Electra's mother Clytemnestra, followed by nurse Alma in Persona.

Both actresses have learned both sets of roles. It's pretty incredible when you think about it. These are already demanding roles, and both women have effectively prepared two completely different versions of the show.

On our night, Nina Hoss played Electra and Elisabet, while Cate Blanchett played Clytemnestra and Alma. I did get the impression that Nina Hoss was slightly happier with the result of the coin toss than Blanchett — although perhaps I was reading far too much into their faces!

It's also a clever way of introducing one of the show's big themes: how much of who we are is simply the role we're playing at that particular moment?

But this was also the beginning of my problem with the production.

There were lots of ideas that made me think, “Oh, that's clever.”

There were considerably fewer moments that made me think, “I'm really enjoying this.”

And then came the mud...

Before taking on their characters, the actors cover their faces in mud.

It looks dramatic.

It looks artistic.

I'm sure it represents something.

But if I'm completely honest, I had absolutely no idea why they were doing it.

And that feeling followed me throughout much of the evening. There is no shortage of ideas in Benedict Andrews' production. In fact, at times I wondered whether there were simply too many. There were so many moments where I could appreciate that something was visually interesting or clearly had some deeper meaning, but I couldn't work out what it was adding to the story.

At one point I realised I'd become more interested in watching the smoke slowly drifting down from the ceiling than in what was happening between the characters.

When you're watching Cate Blanchett and Nina Hoss and the smoke machine is winning the battle for your attention, something has probably gone slightly wrong.

What makes my reaction particularly frustrating is that the acting is absolutely superb.

Cate Blanchett and Nina Hoss are phenomenal. Whichever combination of roles you happen to get, you're watching two exceptional actors. On our night, Hoss's Electra was full of anger, pain and grief, while later, as Elisabet, she had to communicate huge amounts while barely speaking. Blanchett, meanwhile, went from the powerful and complicated Clytemnestra to the very different Alma in Persona. Watching her switch between the two reminded me exactly why I had been so excited to see her again.

The wider company is excellent too, including Ella Lily Hyland and Patrick Robinson.

There really isn't a bad performance here. Which almost makes it more frustrating.

I had some of the best actors you could possibly put on a London stage in front of me, and I still wasn't particularly engaged.

The production itself is technically impressive. There's striking lighting, music, sound, smoke and a lot of live camera work.

During Persona especially, cameras film the actors and their faces are projected onto large screens. I understand why. Persona was originally a film, so bringing cameras into the theatre connects the stage production back to its cinematic roots.

There are moments where it works brilliantly because you can see tiny expressions on the actors' faces that you'd never normally see from your seat. But there were other moments when I thought: What is this adding? Sometimes the camera intensified a moment. At other times, I felt I was only looking at a screen instead of watching two extraordinary actors who were standing directly in front of me.

There's something slightly perverse about having Cate Blanchett and Nina Hoss live on stage and then spending significant periods watching images of them on a screen.

At around two hours without an interval, it also felt surprisingly long. Normally, I'm a huge fan of interval-free theatre. When a production has momentum, I love being able to remain immersed in the story without having the tension broken halfway through. Here, however, I found myself becoming increasingly disengaged.

Perhaps the absence of an interval was strategic — nobody had the opportunity to escape at half-time!

I kept waiting for the moment where everything would suddenly click into place and I'd understand why these two stories needed to be presented together.

That moment never really arrived.

I understood the idea.

I just didn't connect with it.

There will absolutely be people who see this and think it's genius. They'll love pulling apart all the different meanings, discussing the symbolism and working out how the two stories reflect one another. And that's brilliant.

For me, though, it crossed into being a little pretentious.

At times I felt less like I was watching a piece of theatre and more like I was sitting through an experimental video installation in a contemporary art gallery.

And I don't mean that as an insult. I quite enjoy those installations.

You wander into a darkened gallery. Something strange yet captivating is projected onto a wall. You watch for five minutes, stroke your chin thoughtfully, decide you're not entirely sure what it means and wander into the next room.

What I don't generally do is sit there for another two hours.

And that, ultimately, was my problem with Electra / Persona.

Dont get me wrong, Electra / Persona isn't a bad production. Far from it. The acting is exceptional. Cate Blanchett and Nina Hoss are extraordinary. The staging is ambitious. The camera work is clever. The whole thing is clearly created by enormously talented people.

I appreciated its ambition.

I admired its artistry.

I was enormously impressed by its actors.

But did I enjoy it? Not particularly.

And ultimately, I'm reviewing my experience of watching it.

I don't need every show to be easy or straightforward. Some of my favourite theatre has challenged me, surprised me or left me thinking about it for days afterwards. But I do need to feel connected to something.

Here, I spent so much time trying to understand what everything meant that I stopped caring about what was actually happening.

Maybe you'll see it and think it's a masterpiece.

But for me?

There was an enormous amount to admire.

There just wasn't enough for me to love.

Incredible actors. Fascinating idea. Definitely not my cup of tea.

⭐ Wheelie Good Show verdict: 2.5/5

♿ Accessibility at the Lyttelton Theatre

From a wheelchair-access point of view, my experience at the Lyttelton was reasonably good, but there are definitely a couple of things worth knowing.

The wheelchair spaces are positioned towards the back of the auditorium.

The good news is that I had enough space to angle my wheelchair slightly so that I could see between the heads of the two people in front of me.

Once I'd done that, my view was pretty good. The problem is that I needed to do it.

The standard seats around the wheelchair spaces position people considerably higher than you are when sitting in a wheelchair. They can naturally see over the people in front of them.

I can't. So if someone is sitting directly in front of your sightline, their head can potentially block quite a lot of the stage.

Finding your way around the National Theatre

The National Theatre itself is generally very accessible, but I do have one ongoing frustration: there isn't always much proactive access assistance.

We've visited enough times now that we know where we're going.

But if it's your first visit, the building can be confusing.

There are three separate theatres within the National Theatre complex — the Olivier, Lyttelton and Dorfman — plus different levels, bars, restaurants and toilets.

And before a performance, it gets busy. Really busy.

If you're in a wheelchair and trying to navigate through hundreds of people while also working out which theatre you're supposed to be heading towards, it can be slightly overwhelming.

The staff have always been helpful when I've asked. I just wish somebody occasionally spotted a wheelchair user looking completely lost and said: “Can I help you find where you're going?” It would make such a difference.

If it's your first visit, I'd recommend arriving early and giving yourself plenty of time to find the auditorium and accessible toilet before the crowds build.

And if you're not sure where you're going, ask.