Latest news with #DavidIreland
.jpg&w=3840&q=100)
Vogue
27-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Vogue
Dispatch From London: Jack Lowden Is a Force in Soho Place's Compelling The Fifth Step
When I arrived in England years ago for my studies, I was fairly shocked at my new classmates' drinking. That's not just because most American undergraduates are legally prohibited from purchasing alcohol until their final year (though the underage find plenty of ways to get drunk too); in Britain I observed a rampant societal blessing to get pissed—from the one-pound-pint specials at the pub to ladies-drink-free nights—that goes much further than in the US. The drinking culture was no less notable before a recent long weekend in London, from the canned gin and tonics at the lunchtime food truck and the crowds spilling into the street outside pubs at 4:30 p.m., to the clutched White Claws on the tube at 6:30 p.m. and the men in suits staggering around the West End. That evening I caught the sold-out new play (and one of the hottest tickets in town) The Fifth Step, about the fragile, fractious friendship between a young man beginning an Alcoholics Anonymous program and his elder, seemingly wiser sponsor. The title refers to the part of the 12-step program known as the confession, during which members are encouraged to acknowledge 'to God, to oneself, and to another human being the exact nature of our wrongs.' Yet alcoholism is merely its ostensible topic; the show is broadly about faith and appetites, holy and otherwise, and how those intersect with power, whether in a pub, bedroom, or church. Written by David Ireland and directed by Finn den Hertog, The Fifth Step opened in the West End earlier this month after an acclaimed sold-out run in Edinburgh, with Olivier Award–winner Jack Lowden reprising his role as Luka and now joined by Emmy, BAFTA, and SAG Award winner Martin Freeman as James. It's a tight 90-minute tête-a-tête set in the round at the plush, newish Soho Place theater, the stage a circle of trust that eventually deteriorates into a literal boxing ring with seesawing power dynamics. Propulsive with chuckles initially and later gasps, it also tackles the oft-fretted-about contemporary crisis of masculinity, particularly in Britain. After all, as James points out clearly and plainly (as most things are conveyed in this play), 'The culture we live in, drinking's associated with masculinity. You go to Paris and Brazil, no one gives a fuck if you're drinking a chamomile tea.' (Another example: 'I get the impression, Luka, that every man who's ever been in your life has betrayed you. So you have difficulty trusting men. Older men.')
Daily Mail
20-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Daily Mail
PATRICK MARMION reviews The Fifth Step at Soho Place: Lost soul Jack Lowden tackles Martin Freeman in a ruthless boxing match of a drama
Jack Lowden has become one of the hottest properties on telly since starring opposite Gary Oldman in Apple TV+'s hit spy drama Slow Horses. In fact, our Jack's got so big that no less a figure than Hobbit and Sherlock star Martin Freeman has become his wingman in a new play by David Ireland about two men in Alcoholics Anonymous. As is common with AA stories, the subject matter is raw, excruciating and often alarmingly funny. Lowden's nervy Scottish character, Luka, is a desperate loner and end-of-road boozer who identifies as an incel, or 'involuntary celibate'. He's grown jealous of married mates who have sex (not his word) 'on tap'. And, in addition to long-haul descents into alcohol bingeing, he has porn and self- abuse as surrogate, back-up addictions. He is, in short, in free fall. We are a long way from Lowden's ill-fated MI5 agent River Cart- wright in Slow Horses. In desperation, Luka has submitted to the 12-step programme for recovering drinkers in a seemingly vain attempt to turn his life around with help from his 25-years-sober mentor James (Freeman). And Lowden gives us an absolutely top-of-the-range performance, fully exploring the psychological cul-de-sacs and self-defeating wiles of his dismal character. Lowden's wounded puppy-dog eyes come as standard for a young man who is dangerously lonely and hopelessly vulnerable. It's an understated, nervously volatile display that's simultaneously edgy and guarded. Luka has whole repertoires of defensive ticks – wardrobes of scratching, catalogues of leg tremors and gamuts of blinking. But, blessed with a benign, unaffected idiocy, you can't help loving Lowden's lost soul, who's been saved after encountering Jesus one night at a multi-gym. Freeman by contrast as the fully-recovered Mr Ordinary oozes the complacent personality of a Marks & Spencer mannequin. With typical highly-focused fidgeting, Freeman's James is an ostentatiously patient alter-ego and secular confessor to Luka. But it's the work of Ireland's confrontational boxing match of a drama that ensures Freeman's shell of anti-charisma gets cracked too – as both men grapple with AA's Fifth Step of admitting their wrongs, to themselves, each other and to God. Yes, God features quite prominently in Ireland's ruthlessly unecclestiastical writing, although there must be moments when the Almighty wishes he could bow out. But mobilising four-letter, weapons-grade repartee, Ireland is never merely gratuitous and has a genius for embarrassing moral dilemmas. Never flattering us with what we'd like to believe of ourselves, he is an aficionado of unacceptable attitudes and shameful home truths. This left viewers joyously grateful. Women in the audience in particular near howled with laughter at Luka's pitifully sexist delusions. We men may prefer to crawl under a stone. Nor does Finn Den Hertog's production leave either of his actors anywhere to hide, with spectators on all four sides of a rectangle of fitted carpet. So, in addition to the unburthening and self-torture, it's a chastening exercise in forgiveness and acceptance. Unsurprisingly, tickets have sold out. Pray for an extension or returns. The Fifth Step runs until July 26
Yahoo
20-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
The Fifth Step: Jack Lowden and Martin Freeman are an irresistible double act
The bold-minded Belfast-born playwright David Ireland has a rare ability to attract top-flight actors for his darkly comic, often taboo-testing work, with unhinged male psyches his forte. In his breakthrough, Cyprus Avenue, Stephen Rea played a Belfast loyalist convinced his baby grand-daughter has the face of Gerry Adams. And late in 2023, Woody Harrelson starred in Ulster American as a Hibernophile Hollywood A-lister aghast to realise he has signed up to play a Protestant Unionist on stage. With The Fifth Step, David Ireland has finally arrived in the West End attended by the kind of dream cast that has fans snapping up tickets with barely a thought for the show's content. After an Edinburgh Festival premiere last year, Slow Horses star Jack Lowden is joined for the London run by Martin Freeman, everyone's favourite Hobbit, for a dive into the step-programme of Alcoholics Anonymous, in which two men – one battling the bottle, the other his (older) sponsor – share the challenge of recovery. I'd love to salute this as the writer's deserved hour of triumph, not least because this piece transmutes his painful experience into the stuff of accessible entertainment. The author attended AA when he was in his twenties and like Lowden's lost soul, who grabs our attention at the start by opening up to Freeman's James about his lack of luck with women, and addiction to porn, he has said he struggled with dating then. Like Luka, too, who surreally claims to have encountered Jesus in the guise of Willem Dafoe on a gym treadmill, he had a religious epiphany that saved him. Yet despite bubbling with hard-won authenticity and again displaying Ireland's flair for nifty, surprising dialogue, the short evening (80 minutes, directed by Finn den Hertog) winds up seeming curiously flat. At Edinburgh some complained about a rushed denouement but the amended, putatively adrenal resolution here feels no less abrupt, while generating a diminished provocative charge – attention is tilted from the damage perpetuated by Luka to the demons of paranoia and jealousy suffered by James. Interesting conversational skirmishes about the saving power of faith, and the surrogate spirituality of AA, take a back-seat to bickering about who said what. At its best, we're shown two fallible blokes striving to trust each other within a frame-work designed to help the vulnerable that still runs the risk of abusive power-play. But as a drama it finally lacks the requisite emotional punch to the guts. The big saving grace is the makeshift double-act itself; both men winningly rising to the challenge of the ringside space's gladiatorial intimacy. Freeman's eyebrows work expressively overtime in polite quizzicality, repressed concern and growing shiftiness. Compared to this middle-aged, uptight, sexlessly married guardian-figure, Lowden captivates with his edgy physicality and a Scottish accent redolent of hard-living; he welds child-like cluelessness with a steely tenacity. To be 'glass half full' about it, their presence and gear-switches are an irresistible theatrical proposition. But the play itself remains a step-change short of a knock-out July 26; Book ticketsvia Tickets | Telegraph Media Group provided by London Theatre Direct Broaden your horizons with award-winning British journalism. Try The Telegraph free for 1 month with unlimited access to our award-winning website, exclusive app, money-saving offers and more.
Telegraph
19-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Telegraph
The Fifth Step: Jack Lowden and Martin Freeman are an irresistible double act
The bold-minded Belfast-born playwright David Ireland has a rare ability to attract top-flight actors for his darkly comic, often taboo-testing work, with unhinged male psyches his forte. In his breakthrough, Cyprus Avenue, Stephen Rea played a Belfast loyalist convinced his baby grand-daughter has the face of Gerry Adams. And late in 2023, Woody Harrelson starred in Ulster American as a Hibernophile Hollywood A-lister aghast to realise he has signed up to play a Protestant Unionist on stage. With The Fifth Step, David Ireland has finally arrived in the West End attended by the kind of dream cast that has fans snapping up tickets with barely a thought for the show's content. After an Edinburgh Festival premiere last year, Slow Horses star Jack Lowden is joined for the London run by Martin Freeman, everyone's favourite Hobbit, for a dive into the step-programme of Alcoholics Anonymous, in which two men – one battling the bottle, the other his (older) sponsor – share the challenge of recovery. I'd love to salute this as the writer's deserved hour of triumph, not least because this piece transmutes his painful experience into the stuff of accessible entertainment. The author attended AA when he was in his twenties and like Lowden's lost soul, who grabs our attention at the start by opening up to Freeman's James about his lack of luck with women, and addiction to porn, he has said he struggled with dating then. Like Luka, too, who surreally claims to have encountered Jesus in the guise of Willem Dafoe on a gym treadmill, he had a religious epiphany that saved him. Yet despite bubbling with hard-won authenticity and again displaying Ireland's flair for nifty, surprising dialogue, the short evening (80 minutes, directed by Finn den Hertog) winds up seeming curiously flat. At Edinburgh some complained about a rushed denouement but the amended, putatively adrenal resolution here feels no less abrupt, while generating a diminished provocative charge – attention is tilted from the damage perpetuated by Luka to the demons of paranoia and jealousy suffered by James. Interesting conversational skirmishes about the saving power of faith, and the surrogate spirituality of AA, take a back-seat to bickering about who said what. At its best, we're shown two fallible blokes striving to trust each other within a frame-work designed to help the vulnerable that still runs the risk of abusive power-play. But as a drama it finally lacks the requisite emotional punch to the guts. The big saving grace is the makeshift double-act itself; both men winningly rising to the challenge of the ringside space's gladiatorial intimacy. Freeman's eyebrows work expressively overtime in polite quizzicality, repressed concern and growing shiftiness. Compared to this middle-aged, uptight, sexlessly married guardian-figure, Lowden captivates with his edgy physicality and a Scottish accent redolent of hard-living; he welds child-like cluelessness with a steely tenacity. To be 'glass half full' about it, their presence and gear-switches are an irresistible theatrical proposition. But the play itself remains a step-change short of a knock-out sensation. Until July 26;
