Towards the end of the 20th-century, one woman in Great Britain acquired the reputation as reducing the men around her to quiet submission: Margaret Thatcher. Very soon after the 21st-century got underway, another woman did defiantly well at playing a corporate dominatrix: Rebekah Brooks, to whom Rupert Murdoch had handed the News Corp., News International and News of the World reins — nominally under son James.
And now Rebekah Brooks (Saffron Burrows, strutting like nobody’s business) is the focal villain in Corruption, J.T. Rogers’ Oslo follow-up. It’s another comprehensive and persuasive stage documentary, directed by his steadfast collaborator Bartlett Sher. Don’t look twice, but they’ve set forth another double-whammy version of what Rogers calls “historical fiction.”
The topic of their 3-D conversation is the 2010-11 British scandal in which editor Brooks, 100-percent devoted to selling newspapers no matter what, was accused of hacking telephones of the rich and famous and not-so-famous to obtain private and/or damning lowdown – in most instances, the lowest possible lowdown.
[Read Frank Scheck’s ★★★★☆ review here.]
The contemporary Saint George going after Brooks is Tom Watson (Toby Stephens), a member of Parliament, who’d been the butt of Brooks attacks and decided to fight back. Doing so, he surpassed his goal when he came in possession of rampant hacking evidence. (The Deep Throat equivalent is not identified in the script.)
Possessed with the need to bring Brooks down, Watson goes so far as to upend his marriage to Siobhan (Robyn Kerr), who understands the campaign but cannot take the retaliations Brooks has unleashed on her and her son. But Watson won’t be stopped. As the play unfolds for slightly under three dynamic hours — what Sher has counted as 94 scenes — he closes in on Brooks’ finally being forced to quit her positions and the elder Murdoch, having only reluctantly decided to let his pet warrior go, at last shuttering News of the World.
According to the back story, Rogers knew within reading 50 pages of the Tom Watson-Martin Hickman Dial M for Murdoch: News Corporation and the Corruption of Britain a decade ago that he wanted to dramatize the hideous tale. He also decided he would have to imagine some sequences, also determining to interview some of the people involved. Among them was Max Mosley, son of World War II-notorious Sir Oswald Mosley. Question: Mosley’s bawdy orgy reports must be verbatim, no?
Sher puts the entire headline-grabbing event into lickety-split motion, counting on 13 actors and backstage staff to rearrange semi-circular and straight tables into various offices and hearing rooms for Watson’s ceaseless pursuits. There is a video circle above designer Michael Yeargan’s set, flashing neon tubes embedded in the stage floor, and more. The 59 Projections firm keeps news and locales updating the constantly shifting where, when and who. Further enhancement is provided by lighting designer Donald Holder and sound designer Justin Ellington.
And what a troupe Sher has gathered. Only Stephens and Burrows, both imported for this production, stick to one role each. He’s required to run a longer gamut than she is. He’s the crusading MP attempting to save his reputation by stalking her against initially foreboding odds. Tie askew and in blue suit (Jennifer Moeller is the costume designer), he’s prepared for it all and at his histrionic best either when Watson faces setbacks or eventually triumphs.
Burrows has what might be called a one-note assignment. But what a held note it is, as, in a Brooks-like wig suggesting Medusa’s snake coiffeur, she ceaselessly moves around the set. She’s a Rebekah Brooks ready to destroy any combatant in her determined path. She’s especially caustic when she rules out experiencing any feelings, leaving those, she jibes, to Americans.
The other 11 ensemble members, all assuming any number of parts, include Broadway vets like Dylan Baker and Michael Siberry. Baker is Murdoch’s London legal rep as well as an elusive target in Watson’s pursuit. Siberry, particularly prominent as Max Mosley, spouts one of Rogers’ best speeches, a comparison of embarrassment and shame. Were the real Mosley’s wise contrasting definitions jotted down by Rogers? Would be interesting to know.
Of the others coming and going — Kerr, Sanjit De Silva, K. Todd Freeman, Seth Numrich, Eleanor Handley, T. Ryder Smith, John Behlman, Anthony Cochrane, Sepideh Moafi — they’re equals among equals. De Silva is a committed Martin Hickman, Freeman a powerful, homosexual MP Chris Bryant, Handley a wily New York Times reporter, Numrich a stern James Murdock, and so on. (Rupert Murdoch is unrepresented.)
Is there anything wrong with Corruption? Putting aside the title as one handy for numberless other dramas throughout the ages, there is the above-mentioned cast list. From time to time, many of them appear as one person and reappear shortly as someone else. Observers may find themselves spending a few distracted seconds recognizing the differences.
There is another element with which Rogers has had to reckon. Seemingly concerned that American audiences might not be as familiar as English audiences with the Brooks scandal, he’s gone about weighting — and said so — his important work as relevant to today’s stateside political climate. He inserts references like “above the law” occasionally and actually ends with a cry for preserving democracy, a condition that does not quite jibe with Corruption’s probe.
Never mind. Rogers and Sher can take responsibility and credit for one of the season’s few must-sees.
Corruption opened March 11, 2024, at the Mitzi E. Newhouse Theater and runs through April 14. Tickets and information: lct.org
