It's official. The new director of Britain's Royal National Theatre is Rufus Norris. This is a popular choice, especially among actors who love him, but a slightly unexpected one. Despite his coming up fast as favorite over the past few weeks, he's an outsider, not of the mould of the five previous directors — all of whom are from the same hothouse educational institution of Cambridge University. This one is different. Born in Africa, brought up in Malaysia, and educated in a state school in Birmingham, he doesn't fit the perfectly groomed cookie-cutter cookies that we've seen before. His first college was the Kidderminster College of Further Education before he went to the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art to study acting. While he was trying to be an actor, he played for four years in an indie rock band and paid his rent by working as a housepainter. He wasn't, he said, very good at it.
When the announcement was made to the staff, in the National's Lyttelton Theatre, a cheer went up that could be heard all over the concrete palace that constitutes our symbol of great drama on the South Bank of the Thames. It was louder, chuckled the outgoing director, Nicholas Hytner, than anything heard in this building since Alfie first fell down the stairs in One Man, Two Guvnors.
Rufus is likeable, no question about that. He has warmth and charm and a way of persuading, rather than insisting, which makes him popular, indeed loved, by the actors he works with. He's extremely good-looking in a dark-and-handsome way, and married to the playwright Tanya Ronder with two teenage sons.
And he's done some really fine work as a play director, not only at the National, where he's been an associate director for the past two years, but also at the Young Vic and in the West End. But there were other, better-known and arguably more distinguished names in the frame for the top job, among them actor/director Kenneth Branagh; Ed Hall, son of the National's second Director, Sir Peter Hall, and himself head of Hampstead Theatre and of Propeller, the all-male Shakespeare company; Phyllida Lloyd, whose all-female production of Julius Caesar is currently playing in New York; and Stephen Daldrey who, having run the Royal Court before setting out as a freelance director of genius with productions as different as An Inspector Calls and Billy Elliot behind him, would have seemed the obvious candidate.
|photo by Joseph Marzullo/WENN|
For the next 18 months, Norris will be working in tandem with the National's outgoing director, Nicholas Hytner — a long handover that would, I suspect, not happen in an American theatre. When Nick finally leaves the National, he will leave an institution in better shape than he found it, administratively and artistically. He has overseen the start of what will eventually be a complete rebuild of the unwieldy complex, one in which, at least, we now know where the entrance is! His adventurous programming has brought audiences into the National who would never otherwise have been there and, with diverse music, excellent visual arts exhibitions, and buzzy bars, made its lobbies destinations in their own right. Recently, waiting for a friend, I shared a table with a woman carrying a briefcase. "Which play are you going to?" I asked, knowing that on that evening there were performances in the Olivier, the Lyttelton and the Cottesloe. "Oh, I'm not going to a play tonight," she said, "I often come here on my way from work for a drink and to listen to the music."
The National, which has always been ugly and difficult to negotiate, is still both of those, but it's now user-friendly and one of the best places in London to hang out. That, almost as much as the nobable plays his leadership has brought to our attention, is Nicholas Hytner's legacy.
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