Quirk And Stage
Though not strictly "on-brand" (horrifying phrase) I have decided to allot a small portion of this blog to theatre. I have worked as a writer for Official London Theatre and plan to use this space for other personal writings on this special industry about which I am passionate. For anyone interested, stay tuned for reviews and musings. For those who couldn't care less, feel free to return to the homepage for more gastronomic fare.
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Peter And The Starcatcher
Half A Sixpence
Peter And The Starcatcher
Royal & Derngate
02/12/2016
A noisy but touching adaptation of the Peter Pan prequel.
Peter And The Starcatcher begins with a Henry V-esque introduction, with a chorus of rude mechanicals in patched-up clothes inviting the audience to use their imaginations to transport them to the docks of London in 1885, from whence two ships are bound for a far off land. What follows is a rip-roaring tale of pirates, treasure, stowaways and starstuff, which is, at best, charmingly chaotic, and, at worst, simply baffling. The storytelling is inventive, and, at times, inspired, but it appears that director Luke Sheppard and adapter Rick Elice have tried to create three different shows at once: a play, a pantomime, and a piece of physical theatre.
Act One is a confusing whirlwind of incoherent shouting, flying cats, dodo-speak, mislaid treasure, storms, discordant songs, endless running about and wait, which ship are they on again? Moments of brilliance are tucked away (the scene in which heroine Molly navigates her way through the human obstacle course of the ship is superb) but the sheer volume of activity distracts us from the narrative itself. This is a pity, as underneath the noise is a painful, beautiful story of friendship between an abused, orphaned boy and an intelligent, lonely girl. It is only in Act Two, set on the mysterious island of Mollusc, that the characters (and the audience) get some breathing space and a chance to flourish. Away from the ruckus of the ship, the moments of quiet between Peter (played sensitively by Michael Shea) and Molly (the bold and expressive Evelyn Hoskins) are quite stunning, as they teeter on the precipice of adulthood, confused and frightened by the paths laid out for them.
To Elice's credit, he has created a very funny play, with the comedy executed by a supremely talented cast. But again this wobbles between panto cheese (confusion of words, slapstick and Michael Mater's entertaining Mrs Bumbrake - essentially a dame on a pirate ship) and witty aphorisms designed for the literati; the idea that something could be ‘as hard to find as melody in a Phillip Glass opera’ is only going to appeal to a few. As with panto, the most laughs are granted to the most horrifying moments, and the loquacious, flamboyant pirate Black Stache (a standout turn from Greg Haiste) gained a good two minutes of uproar over an extended joke about amputation. ('You’ve single-handedly rendered me single-handed' was a personal favourite.) Unsurprisingly, the only thing that made the children next to me giggle was when someone hit themselves in the face with a pineapple.
The audience's imagination may be stretched to its limits in trying to keep up with the action, but it must be said that the design is faultless. Howard Hudson uses an evocative mix of shadows and lights to create the cramped recesses of the ships, and employs festoons of golden bulbs as the stars. Combined with Steampunk costumes and a stripped-back set, it makes for an exciting, magical environment.
Despite the confusion, this is a thoroughly enjoyable show, with a heart-rending story at its core. Fans of J.M Barrie's original book will enjoy watching the elements slot into place, and there are some wholesome underlying morals about the nature of leadership and heroism. Peter's story is ultimately a sad one, though, and the honesty and simplicity of Shea’s delivery is quietly devastating. He shows us a boy so damaged and so frightened of grown ups (‘they lie and then they leave’) that he chooses a life of isolation in eternal childhood, simply ‘to find a way out of the dark.’ ‘I just want to be a boy for a little while!’ he cries, begging Molly and the audience to understand. And we do. Isn't that why we go to the theatre in the first place?
***
Half A Sixpence
Noel Coward Theatre
17/11/16
17/11/16
Hot on the heels of
its sell-out run in Chichester, Half A Sixpence, the rags to riches musical, has
arrived on the West End with a spring in its step. With good reason, as it
turns out. A feast of colour, style and charm, it offers three hours of unadulterated
musical bliss.
At the helm of this
production stands 22 year old prodigy, Charlie Stemp, who has been lauded from
all sides for his portrayal of protagonist Arthur Kipps. All praise is utterly
justified; even among a cast of superbly talented individuals, Stemp stands out
like a beacon, fizzing with energy and leaping across the stage with unmatched
grace and sparkle. Comparisons with Gene Kelly are not unfounded - when
clinging on to a lamppost in She's Too Far Above Me I was half-expecting him to
pull out an umbrella.
Though Stemp barely
leaves the stage, this is no longer the Tommy Steele show, and Fellowes and co
have been successful in creating several other, engaging characters. Not least
Kipps’ two love interests, performed soulfully by Emma Williams and Devon-Elise
Johnson. Williams offers grace and poise as upper-class Helen, injecting a
potentially shallow personality with moving depth of feeling. Johnson plays her
fiery, working class counterpart, the only one with with the guts and sense to
tell Kipps what money has really done to him, whose passionate fury is
supported by several stunning musical moments.
Cameron Mackintosh's
recruitment of Julian Fellowes and Olivier-winning musical duo George Stiles
and Anthony Drewe has been crucial to the
success of this production. The story has been restructured and updated, moving
away from the solipsism of the original show to flesh out the characters and
narrative. David Heneker’s score stands side by side with original pieces from
Stiles and Drewe, and it is to their credit that there are moments when you
might not be able to tell the difference; the rip-roaring Pick Out A Simple
Tune seems right out of the sixties. Top additions include a hilarious duet by
Ann and shop-girl Flo, bemoaning their lack of sexual relations, laden with
Drewe's trademark wit and dripping with seaside-related double-entendres. This
being said, the sheer volume of music in Act One drags the pace considerably,
with all but one lively chorus number reserved for Act Two. This musical
cluttering gives Fellowes’ script little opportunity to shine, with most key
narrative moments handed to Ian Bartholomew, as Kipps’ saviour Chitterlow.
Bartholomew delivers them all with aplomb, the uneven distribution of lines
giving him no little opportunity to out-act all other speakers onstage.
Ultimately this production soars in the big chorus numbers, and due note should be given to director Rachel Kavanaugh, MD Graham Hurton and choreographer Andrew Wright for crafting these moments of musical ecstasy. As easy as it is to get lost in the swell and colour of these scenes, each is peppered with delightful touches of detail - the swishing and snapping of measuring tapes in the drapers’, someone swinging from a chandelier in the mayhem of a party, and the tongue-in-cheek reenactment of the lyrics in showstopper Flash Bang Wallop. The quality of the chorus is second to none, attacking each number with breathtaking energy and spotless acting and musical finesse. The final scene is quite simply euphoric, and you’ll want two more sets of eyes in order to take in all the activity onstage. Fellowes described the show as a “celebration of life” and it's true - if only a celebration of the magic created by the perfect symbiosis of acting, dance and music. The cast look like they're having the time of their lives, and you might just feel the same.
Ultimately this production soars in the big chorus numbers, and due note should be given to director Rachel Kavanaugh, MD Graham Hurton and choreographer Andrew Wright for crafting these moments of musical ecstasy. As easy as it is to get lost in the swell and colour of these scenes, each is peppered with delightful touches of detail - the swishing and snapping of measuring tapes in the drapers’, someone swinging from a chandelier in the mayhem of a party, and the tongue-in-cheek reenactment of the lyrics in showstopper Flash Bang Wallop. The quality of the chorus is second to none, attacking each number with breathtaking energy and spotless acting and musical finesse. The final scene is quite simply euphoric, and you’ll want two more sets of eyes in order to take in all the activity onstage. Fellowes described the show as a “celebration of life” and it's true - if only a celebration of the magic created by the perfect symbiosis of acting, dance and music. The cast look like they're having the time of their lives, and you might just feel the same.
***
ConvictionAbove The Arts, Leicester Square
02/10/16
A dark corner of Czech history seen through the eyes of friends and family.
Conviction, set in Prague in 1950, tells the true story of two women following the communist coup in Czechoslovakia. Milada Horakova is a lawyer and former member of parliament, a fervent believer of democracy and tireless activist. Ludmila Brozova-Polednova is an impressionable student who is carefully seduced by the communist party to eventually become a ruthless public prosecutor. Though they are at opposite ends of the political spectrum, Rebecca Morgan's new play links them together via a shared acquaintance, asking big questions about government, and how to determine what is right.
Polly Attala and Gabriella Gadsby (playing Milada and Ludmila, respectively) make for a pleasingly contrasting pair. While Gadsby hisses with rage and disgust, Attala remains calm, controlled and almost serene in the face of certain death. The strongest performance of the night, however, is easily Jamie Coleman's idealistic Petr, who gives an honest, detailed portrayal of a young man conflicted by his political ideals and his longstanding friendship with Ludmila. His final monologue, confused and yet laced with self-hatred, delivered from his prison cell, is a quietly terrifying depiction of psychological torture.
Playful Moon have given themselves big issues to deal with in this piece; the Horakova trial is regarded as a crucial example of the cruelty of the communist era, one with longstanding ramifications - Ludmila Brozova-Polednova only being arrested for her involvement in 2008. As such, the play throws up questions of loyalty, patriotism, sacrifice and the importance of peace. To its credit, it makes some extremely salient points, especially as it runs at a mere 80 minutes. In the midst of Petr and Ludmila's fights over whose politics are correct, Milada's daughter Jana (played sympathetically by Holly Donovan) raises the question that it is no longer clear which party is right. When both accuse the other of manipulation and brainwashing, how can you be certain which is genuine? And should political values ever be considered more important than the safety of those you love? This is highlighted most poignantly in the relationship between Jana and her mother, and in the heartfelt (though perhaps overly long) letter Milada writes to her in the final scene, passing on advice and apologising for the commitment to her work that kept her away. Her final, tearful comment that "I really held you so very little" is utterly devastating.
This is a period of history perhaps little known to London audiences, but one which is realised quickly and effectively by the company. While the opposition of communism and capitalism may feel refreshingly distant, the issue of the theatre of politics, and of the slippery, manipulative qualities of language sadly are not. Some scenes would benefit from some judicious cutting in order to heighten the impact of these assertions, but one can only congratulate Playful Moon for tackling such meaty subject matter in their West End début. I look forward to the challenging pieces of theatre they are sure to produce in the future.
***
Singin' In The Rain
Gordon Craig Theatre, Stevenage
19/08/16
A charming revival of the Hollywood classic
Singin' In The Rain is something of an anomaly in that, despite originating as a film all about cinema, it works remarkably well onstage. You could argue that every production (including the one in question) is an impersonation of the 1952 classic, but that in no way dampens its charm. We buy a ticket in order to relive the story on stage, to see those well-worn characters brought to life in front of our eyes, and Catherine Lomax's production certainly doesn't disappoint.
Cameron Leigh is a scene-stealer as the vocally-challenged diva, Lina Lamont. Constantly posing and preening in her red lipstick and frothy Marilyn wig, Leigh oozes star-quality, transforming into screeching banshee with almost frightening energy. High praise is due for her ability to make What's Wrong With Me? (perhaps best described as Lina's Lament) sound like a convincing attempt to master a sultry ballad by someone completely tone deaf.
Mike Denman is charged with the arguably impossible task of bringing Gene Kelly's Don Lockwoord to life, which involves tapping, leaping and crooning while being doused in several tonnes of water, and leading the iconic ten minute dream sequence. Denman does it all with a smile, his undeniable skill as a hoofer adding real class to the production. He and Katie Warsop (who does an uncanny impression of Debbie Reynolds) are a delight to watch together. Though perhaps we could have done with slightly less kissing...
Simon Anthony was due to complete the set of principals as Lockwood's sidekick, Cosmo Brown. Anthony made a promising start as the cheeky chappy, but, in a cruel twist of irony, was sadly taken ill moments after proclaiming "the show must go on" in Make Em Laugh. Within an hour, Craig Armstrong was on in his place, despite having had no rehearsal. To the audience's delight, Armstrong matched, and even surpassed his predecessor; even with a script in hand his presence increased the energy onstage tenfold and he somehow managed to make sitting out of the dancing look perfectly natural.
The choreography does pleasing homage to the moves in the film, and, while the group tap numbers could perhaps be more slick, the obvious joy on the faces of the cast is infectious and earns a rousing response, especially as they are accompanied by such a talented orchestra. Chris Keen really does justice to the soaring 20s score, despite being hidden away backstage.
Hey, it's not Hollywood, and maybe it shows a little around the edges, but Lomax has put together the strongest in-house show yet at the Craig, hopefully setting a precedent for years to come. So escape the August showers and allow yourself two hours of musical nostalgia at this charming production. You're guaranteed to leave with a smile.
