Chesil Theatre 
Chesil Theatre, Winchester 
Mark Ponsford 
14 November 2025
As the house lights dim, we hear the irresistibly delightful strains of Cole Porter’s ‘You’re The Top’, and we’d be well advised to make the most of them, since the general comfort factor has no intention of staying around for long, and the use of the song in this production makes for arguably the most ironic moment you’re likely to experience in a theatre this year. The company enter wearing shop-floor coats and caps, recalling to mind the trademark look of some of Steven Berkoff’s work – he did, in fact, direct a production of this play in New York, in 1988.
I’ll confess right now to a measure of resistance myself, which began in my teens, to Brecht’s output, and particularly his innovative “alienation” technique (itself referenced in the programme note), continually reminding the audience that “it’s only a play”, and discouraging any genuine emotional involvement. This, for me, was overturned mightily with the National Theatre’s 2009 production of Brecht’s Mother Courage And Her Children, in which Fiona Shaw’s portrayal of the titular character all but defied one openly not to feel for her, and that production’s devastating final image is one I can recall clearly to this day. Writing this, after attending The Resistible Rise Of Arturo Ui at the Chesil, I’ll gladly nail my colours to the mast and say that the final image in Peter Andrews’ production is not only similarly effective, but even more chilling. The play itself is a bit of a slow burner to begin with, and one might be forgiven, initially at least, for wondering whether Brecht’s concept was almost too ludicrous for words.
But stay with it. Yes, Groceries as a metaphor might well be confusing (one of the overheard comments at the interval, and I hasten to add by an audience member clearly engrossed in the piece, was “It’s weird as ****!”), but by this time we’re in no doubt as to what’s really going on here; and the second act becomes a truly nightmarish courtroom vaudeville. This is the sort of uncompromising drama that SHOULD be presented, and when the play’s director says, in addition to warning us that tonight’s piece is going to be deliberately provocative, “Feel free to laugh, be surprised, and even get angry…”, it’s an invitation to be taken up, because even though this play first saw the light of day in 1941, the brutal fact remains that it punches as powerfully as ever. An elegantly veiled account of Hitler’s rise to power, it won’t take you long – certainly not with regard to Gary Nicholson’s ominous, layered performance of the title role – to remember that tyrants continue to walk calmly among us. I’m doing my level best to avoid “spoilers” – just watch him. Even at one point in the second act, as he spends several minutes completely motionless in the midst of a scene, you still can’t ever quite stop. It’s easily the most chilling individual performance I’ve seen on this stage since Tez Cook’s Macbeth a couple of seasons ago.
The technical aspects of the production are, as always at the Chesil, first-rate and consistently enhancing of the key moments, and there are sterling performances throughout the company. Arthur Wood, jettisoning every ounce of the delightful charm with which he infused his recent title performance in the Chesil’s production of Shakespeare In Love, turns in a thoroughly creepy and occasionally savage Givola, and Karen Fitzsimmons excels in the second act as, let’s just say, an “Iron Lady” who momentarily goes head-to-head with Ui. There’s also a superb multi-voiced and deadly energetic performance from Danny Olsson as Giri, ranging from the occasional hint of Groucho Marx, to an uncomfortably accurate approximation of the voice adopted by Anthony Hopkins for Fats, the terrifying ventriloquist’s dummy in the film Magic. There’s a smile on his face, but it’s a deeply unsettling one. Powerful work, too, from Siyana-Maria Petrova as Roma.
As the play hurtles towards its inevitable dénouement, we the audience find ourselves as helpless as the characters who are now obliged to bow to Arturo Ui’s dictatorship. We’ve seen it in our own histories. We can even see it now in our own country – look at Starmer’s Government. Look at Khan’s London. (Alistair Beaton, who revised this version of the play, expressed enthusiasm at Khan’s initial appointment. Make of that what you will.) Nor has Brecht any intention of letting us down lightly – even after the curtain call, there’s one last “reminder”, and when the house lights come up, and we find ourselves back in the Real World, the chances are that we might find ourselves reappraising the Real World in its present state. This is provocative theatre at its finest, and further proof that the Chesil’s 25/26 season is going great guns. Literally, in this case.
