REVIEWS
WEST END - MAJOR THEATRES
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DANTON’S
DEATH – Olivier Theatre (NT); HENRY IV – Parts 1
& 2 – Shakespeare’s Globe; THE PRISONER OF SECOND
AVENUE – Vaudeville Theatre; LA BÊTE – Comedy
Theatre; THE COMEDY OF ERRORS
– Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre; WELCOME TO THEBES
– Olivier Theatre (NT);
TAP DOGS – Novello Theatre; AFTER THE DANCE –
Lyttelton Theatre (NT);
ALL MY SONS – Apollo Theatre, Shaftesbury Avenue; HENRY VIII –
Shakespeare’s Globe;
SWEET CHARITY – Theatre Royal, Haymarket; ALL THE FUN OF THE FAIR
– Garrick Theatre;
THE REAL THING – Old Vic Theatre; HAIR – Gielgud
Theatre; THE WHITE
GUARD – Lyttelton Theatre (NT); LOVE NEVER DIES –
Adelphi Theatre; GHOSTS
– Duchess Theatre;
REALLY OLD, LIKE FORTY FIVE – Cottesloe Theatre (NT); Haymarket; ENRON – Noel Coward
Theatre; LEGALLY BLONDE
– The Musical – Savoy Theatre; THE HABIT OF ART –
Lyttelton Theatre (NT);
THE AN INSPECTOR CALLS – Wyndham’s Theatre ; DREAMBOATS AND PETTICOATS – Savoy
Theatre; SISTER ACT –
London Palladium; THE
OBSERVER – Cottesloe Theatre (NT); WAR HORSE – New London
Theatre; PRISCILLA,
QUEEN OF THE DESERT – The Musical – Palace Theatre; OLIVER! – Theatre
Royal, Drury Lane;
JERSEY BOYS - Prince Edward Theatre; GREASE is the word - Piccadilly Theatre;
DIRTY DANCING -
Aldwych Theatre;
THE 39 STEPS - Criterion Theatre; WICKED - Apollo Victoria Theatre; AVENUE Q – Wyndham’s
Theatre; BILLY
ELLIOT - The Musical - Victoria Palace Theatre; LES MISÉRABLES - Queen's
Theatre; STOMP -
Ambassador's Theatre; WE
WILL ROCK YOU - The Dominion Theatre; Disney's THE LION KING -
Lyceum Theatre; MAMMA MIA -
The Prince of Wales Theatre;
CHICAGO - Cambridge Theatre
DANTON'S DEATH
by Georg Büchner
Now playing in
repertory at the Olivier Theatre (NT)
Michael
Grandage is not a name that is usually associated
with the National but his debut there is striking both for its visual and
verbal imagery.
His
regular designer, Christopher Oram uses a
large-scale, minimalist set that succeeds because with the use of dry ice and
subtle lighting, it creates images straight from of the art of the French
Revolutionary period, perhaps by David.
It
has to be said that Danton's Death is an unnecessarily wordy play. It was
written by Georg (Woyzeck) Büchner,
a playwright who, like several of the characters portrayed did not make it to
old age, dying at 23. In his case though, typhoid rather than Mme Guillotine
was the cause.
Pleasingly,
in Howard Brenton's new version, at its best the text
has the power to rouse the heart, even if there are a few too many longueurs.
The
drama sets Danton, the drunken pleasure-seeker at the head of a group of
"vice-ridden libertines" in opposition to the Incorruptible
Robespierre. This unlovable puritan, who brings to mind some unyielding
politicians of much more recent era, is played by Elliot Levey
and sneers at anything that might be classed as pleasure.
Robespierre
does excite others, generating spectacular descriptions, being referred to as
both "a Messiah of blood" and "Christ in reverse".
These
two men were together responsible for a Revolution that changed the face of
France forever creating a Republic that has lasted to the present day but by
the time that the play opens, have become
implacable enemies.
Danton
is whoring and resting on his laurels, while Robespierre is leading the
unintentionally ironically entitled Committee of Public Safety in its bloody
cleansing of anyone who might offer opposition to his cause.
The
highlight of the evening lies in a pair of court scenes in which Toby Stephens
in the title role rises from lassitude to a peak of fury, not so much
delivering a defence as an all-out attack that silences the mean-minded men
intent on seeing his head and those of his friends in a tumbrel.
Büchner and Brenton
lighten the mood by mixing the political jousting with more personal scenes,
showing how very different the two competing leaders of the Revolution really
are.
Even
so, Danton's Death is not a spectacular play, being more intent on telling its
tale through portentous speeches than actions. However, its ending in this
production is quite remarkable,
using illusion so cleverly that one fears for audience members, some of whom
will surely faint dead away before the run ends.
Those
that survive will have enjoyed a timely history lesson distinguished by a
production that shows a flawed play in a good light.
Reviewed by Philip Fisher
for Theatreworld Internet Magazine
HENRY
IV PART 1
by William
Shakespeare
Now
playing in repertory until 2 October at Shakespeare's Globe
Dominic Dromgoole should have a big
hit on his hands with this start of Shakespeare's relatively unfashionable, two
part History Play. That is thanks in part to a very canny piece of casting but also
to an overall vision that gets just about everything right.
His backstage team do a good job, starting with the heraldic
and more prosaic banners, created by designer Jonathan Fensom,
that surround the playing space and set the scene, aided by period costumes and
folk songs plus of course the acting.
Dromgoole's
productions at Shakespeare's Globe are generally characterised by his ability
to wring every comic opportunity out of the Bard's text, including some that
one suspects even the playwright wasn't aware of. This
is always a good starting point for audiences there for the experience rather
than the play. He does so again here, making the production a real pleasure to
witness.
The Artistic Director gets great assistance from the
marvellously versatile and supremely talented Roger Allam.
The part of the shaggy, disreputable knight Sir John Falstaff,
could have been written for him but then so could Willy Brandt in Democracy
and, one would wager having only seen Douglas Hodge, Albin
in La Cage Aux Folles.
That ability to transform is what makes someone a great actor
and in this role, Allam lives up to that billing,
instantly having the audience eating out of his hand and keeping them there for
three hours, ably supported by his cohorts.
Allam is so
good that spontaneous applause becomes a habit, reaching its peak as the
drunken coward boasts of his bravery when faced by an ever-expanding but in
reality non-existent horde of thieves.
The strong casting goes far beyond the roguish knight. His
companion and foil, Prince Hal is played by former History Boy Jamie Parker,
who after an appropriately bawdy arrival with breeches adorning ankles, brings lightness to balance Falstaff's weightiness.
The actor does more than merely have fun. He also achieves
the tricky transition from young wastrel to noble prince effortlessly. So well
is he suited to the part that the next time that the play is revived, he should
be first choice for Henry V.
The silvery Oliver Cotton, who is also now a West End
playwright having seen Wet Weather Cover transfer from the King's Head, takes
the title role making Henry suitably choleric, not to mention asthmatic.
From the other faction, Sam Crane is a somewhat lightweight
but brave Harry Hotspur, leading the rebellious Percys
into a battle excellently orchestrated by Philip D'Orleans.
This was so convincing that some groundlings were hopping around to evade
energetic but always controlled swordsmen.
Amongst the support, William Gaunt as dignified Worcester and
Paul Rider playing the lugubrious but always dryly hilarious Bardolph stand out.
The mark of a good production of this play is a balance
between the rowdy inn scenes and the formal affairs of state. It is pleasing to
be able to report that each is strong, whetting the appetite for Part 2, which
has a lot to live up to.
HENRY
IV PART 2
by William Shakespeare
Now
playing in repertory until 3 October at Shakespeare's Globe
Although it may not quite have the life of the first play,
Henry IV Part 2 still has much to commend it, especially in the later scenes.
This is a drama in which Shakespeare shows us that fortunes
rise and fall regardless of status and even Kings must die.
It starts with Henry firmly ensconced with a rump rebels
still threatening but only at a distance. They are eventually unmanned in one
fell swoop by the dastardly actions of Hal's younger brother Joseph Timms playing Prince John, who betrays his naive enemies
having offered them peace.
Sadly, news of victory greets the King simultaneously with
grave intimations of his own mortality. Oliver Cotton is at his best after the
monarch takes to his bed, soon losing his crown to a rather forward eldest son,
imagining the throne just a little too early.
In the background, Roger Allam's Falstaff,
now a war hero and his grubby companions continue to make merry. This time, it
is the women who come to the fore, Barbara Marten playing the perpetually
wronged Mistress Quickly and in particular, Jade
Williams shining in the role of slatternly Doll Tearsheet.
The other favourites from this play are always the elderly
JPs, Shallow and Silent. The doddering ancients are played with great wit on
this occasion by the comic duo of William Gaunt and Christopher Godwin.
Clearly a fine character actor and better cast as a bouncing,
effeminate Pistol than Hotspur, Sam Crane also catches the eye with his
humorous hamming, which never quite goes too far.
The highlight, even surpassing a couple of memorable Falstaffian monologues, comes after Hal becomes King Henry
V.
Sir John and his band of merry men are buoyed up at the
prospect of titles and wealth. In a look rather than a word, the great man is
instantly humbled by the newly-matured King who realises that his days of wine
and wenching are past as regal genes come to the fore
and bring with them an innate sense of responsibility.
Dominic Dromgoole should be proud
of his achievements in just over six hours of playing time including intervals.
While Roger Allam is the undoubted draw card, the
whole cast play their parts in what is otherwise a fine ensemble production.
The two parts are filled with political manoeuvring, human
conflict and, above all, rich comedy. As such, they deserve to fill the Globe
with happy visitors from now until the beginning of October.
Reviewed
by Philip Fisher for Theatreworld Internet Magazine
THE PRISONER OF
SECOND AVENUE
by Neil Simon
Now playing until 25
September at the Vaudeville Theatre
Kevin
Spacey has decided that one stage is not enough so in a new venture, the Old
Vic has set up shop in the West End at the Vaudeville.
To
start off what could become a regular occurrence, he has asked an English
director, Terry Johnson to revive a Neil (The Odd Couple) Simon classic with a
pair of American stars.
Despite
parallels with our current economic travails, The Prisoner of Second Avenue may
seem dated, taking us back to the days when Nixon had not yet been found out
but, at its best, is incredibly funny.
The
play is a kind of sophisticated sitcom that features Jeff Goldblum
(who had such a fine double act with Spacey in Speed-the-Plow)
as Mel Edison, a neurotic New Yorker and American-based stage and screen favourite Mercedes Ruehl playing his wife, Edna.
During
the first part of the 2¼ hours, everything bad that could happen to a
man afflicts poor Mel - then things get worse. Thanks to the use of spoof TV
newscasts, we are led to associate his decline with a meltdown of The Great
American Dream as New York begins to fall apart almost as badly as our hero.
Mel
is an advertising executive with a swanky job and the kind of loving, devoted
wife that went out of fashion when feminism was discovered. Edna cooks his
dinner, bolsters his confidence and when the need arises, becomes the cheerful
breadwinner. It is hard to believe that sort of thing still happened in New
York City only forty years ago.
The
action takes place in Rob Howell's vision of a prototypical, unfashionable 14th
floor, Upper East Side apartment, deliberately cut down to emphasise the
feeling of claustrophobia.
When
we first enter, 47-year-old Mel is already suffering from middle age angst. He
is raging ineffectually against not only the neighbours but life itself.
The
neuroses only get worse and the combination of a bad career break and burgled
apartment take him over the edge. All of this allows Goldblum
to strut his stuff to great comic effect, well supported by Miss Ruehl.
The
fun is then interrupted by a rather unnecessary single joke scene in which
Mel's four older siblings arrive at the apartment for a kind of wake. Despite
the efforts of Anglo-Australian actor Linal Haft in
the role of successful eldest brother Harry, the arrival of four caricatures
does nothing for the comedy.
The
play recovers to an extent and comes together for a conclusion that is almost
inevitable from the start.
Despite
his contribution to Sweet Charity, Neil Simon is not as popular in the UK as he
once was and David Cromer's critically-acclaimed attempt to bring him back to
Broadway last year ended disastrously.
However,
with roots and humorous sensibilities similar to those of Woody Allen and his
ability to write great one-liners for a couple of big name stars, The Prisoner
of Second Avenue should sell well enough during this strictly limited (after a
short extension) run.
Reviewed by Philip
Fisher for Theatreworld Internet Magazine
LA
BÊTE
by David Hirson
Now
playing at the Comedy Theatre, Panton St. SW1
- Booking
until September 4th, 2010
La Bête, a hilarious revival of American playwright
David Hirson’s play, first done in London in
the early ‘90’s, sizzles with the most glorious casting
imaginable. Mark Rylance in
the title role, David Hyde Pierce and Joanna Lumley – could you ask for
anything more. Hirson’s
joke; “if Racine and Molière can do it, I
can do it too”, is to construct a verse play in the 17th
century mode wherein popular entertainment vies with High Art for supremacy.
Guess which wins?
Lumley plays the Princess who is tiring of the impenetrably
intellectually pompous plays put on by the director of her court theatre, the
philosopher Elomire, David Hyde Pierce. No one
understands what they are about. She finds a clown, Valere,
Mark Rylance, in the market place, whose plays are
hugely popular with the crowds. Would it not be a good idea to get him to
collaborate with Elomire and lighten up the court
theatre a bit? The ongoing joke of the piece is the ludicrous contrast
between the two men.
David Hyde Pierce’s every gesture is familiar to us
having played Frasier’s brother Niles in the wittiest, best written
American sitcom there ever was. It would be easy to think he wasn’t
doing much on the stage in his appalled reaction to Valere.
Well, a lot of acting is reacting. What you see here is a gorgeously
nuanced, subtle, comic performance. Dressed in the dour clothes of the
Dutch Protestant reformation, black breeches and doublet with a large Puritan
white collar, he embodies intellectual pomposity. His fellow thespian, Bejart, played by Canadian actor Stephen Ouimette, is similarly dressed. Ouimette
is very famous in Canada as a comic actor and is also a director. Both Valere and Bejart disapprove of
everything that isn’t profoundly serious.
Into their lives and Elomire’s
library comes the market place clown, Valere, Mark Rylance. Valere has had a
breeding bypass; it is neither good nor bad, it simply isn’t part of his
repertoire. He spits out food when he talks, he farts, he belches, and he
leaves the door open while using the water closet, peeking round it to continue
his conversation. Talking with his mouth full when he enters, he
doesn’t pause for breath for about half an hour. It is a tour de force,
and very, very funny. The man sitting next to me certainly thought so as
when Rylance did finish, he whistled (it was ear
piercing), he stomped; he yelled and came close to ululating. The
author’s theme was brought very close to home.
The director is Matthew Warchus,
whose Boeing Boeing enjoyed enormous success in the
West End last year. Warchus’ range is
huge and he has a Midas touch. He has certainly brought out the gold in
this. Without an inspired director and cast, I can imagine it falling
flat. This production is a romp from start to finish.
The argument of the play is not one that will go
away. Art appreciation is like the concept of the “tourist
trap”. If all the tourists want to go there, it can’t be of any
interest, can it? If the play, the painting, the music is popular with
the public, it clearly can’t be of much merit, can it? There is a
middle ground, but for the purposes of La Bête, you have to imagine Simon
Cowell and Brian Sewell in the same room looking for
it; the middle ground that is.
You will be struck by the accents of the cast. Everyone
seems to speak in his own, except for Rylance, who
sometimes sounds English and sometimes American (or
perhaps Canadian). I only noticed this in Act II and it doesn’t jar, but
is curious. The play will transfer to New York after its London run.
Designer Mark Thompson has dressed the cast in very
affective contrasting styles. The theatre company are sombre. Valere’s costume is terrifically insane, as though he
fell into a 17th century theatrical trunk and emerged clad in what
stuck. The Princess’ costume, on the other hand, is a wee bit
eccentric. Complete with red wig, she is a Raggedy Ann doll. The
American Raggedy Ann doll emerged in the early 20th century as a
simple sock doll and went on the make the fortune of the toy company that sold
her. Little girls, mothers, gay men, and anyone else in the mood, dress as
Raggedy Ann at Halloween all across the North American continent. I think
that is what Mr. Thompson is saying, that a Princess is like a person dressed
up for Halloween, but all the time. However, the Princess has power and she
exerts it, to impose her will on Elomire. Not such a
floppy sock doll after all.
La Bête is a terrific entertainment, well worth
reviving. Don’t miss it.
Tickets: http://www.comedy-theatre.com
Reviewed by Judith M Steiner for Theatreworld
Internet Magazine
THE COMEDY OF ERRORS
By William Shakespeare
Now playing at Regent’s Park Open Air
Theatre until 31st July
Shakespeare was a master
of plays with mistaken identity constantly causing comical confusion, and in
this one he exceeds himself with two sets of identical twins and only two names
between the four of them. Twenty years after they have been separated in
a shipwreck Antipholus of Ephesus (Josh Cohen) is
unaware that he has an identical twin brother. He is now a prominent and
respected citizen and Antipholus of Syracuse (Daniel Weyman), when he arrives, is surprised and pleased to note
what a pleasant place Ephesus is with everyone greeting him as a friend - even giving him a gold chain. He is bewildered, but delighted, when
Adriana, the wife of his brother, greets him as ‘husband‘ and pulls
him indoors for an intimate dinner, locking the door and leaving slave Dromio to guard the entrance.
Philip Franks,
making his Regent’s Park directional debut, has set the scene in
1940’s Casablanca which gives plenty of scope for bustling activity,
merchants displaying their wares, an obvious police presence, an exotic night
club and there’s even a beach scene with ball games, sunbathers and a bit
of comical nonsense with a flipper - he’s fitted it all in.
It had occurred to me
that this theatre might not have been the best venue for a farce - it is
fourteen years since it was last performed here and the stage is large.
If entrances and exits and near misses are not timed to split second perfection
the whole play could fall flat - but happily Gideon Davey’s set
design solves the problem. A huge “Welcome to Ephesus”
travel poster (with the warning that this does not extend to the population of
Syracuse) conceals doors on two levels with a steep staircase connecting the
two and one of the Dromio slaves even appears over
the top. These three levels, together with the foliage and the grassy
banks to each side, give ample opportunity for all the comings and goings which
the cast perform with panache and with speed, making the show go with a
light-hearted swing, helped along with some excellent jazz played by the
four-piece ‘Porpentine Band’.
Adriana is played
by Jo Herbert, graceful and beautiful in a gorgeous gown, but the Syracuse twin
soon finds his attention straying to her smart, modern sister Luciana (Sophie
Roberts) - a girl who likes a drink. A relief then when the real husband
is revealed, but not so much for Adriana who, with a slightly worried inflection
in her voice, asks which of the two she entertained to ‘dinner’.
As for the courtesan,
the ‘bit-on-the-side’ for Adriana’s real straying husband -
“I have Anna-Jane Casey in the role” says Franks in an interview,
“so I might as well flaunt her” - and flaunt her he does from her
first entrance as a sultry sexy night club singer, looking elegant in a slinky
evening dress, to a later rather more raunchy outfit. A gorilla emerging
menacingly from the bushes during this scene causes quite a stir - we are
rather too close to the zoo for comfort, but all is well!
The two Dromio slaves (Syracuse -
Joseph Kloska and Ephesus - Josh Cohen) are, as
usual, the most fun, the most energetic and provide most of the verbal wit - as
well as the slapstick.
On a beautiful hot
summer’s evening what could be better than this rollicking, farcical
comedy - open air theatre at its’ best, and great fun.
Enjoy!
Tickets:
http://openairtheatre.org
Reviewed
by Sheila Connor for Theatreworld Internet Magazine
WELCOME TO THEBES
by Moira Buffini
Now playing in
repertory in the Olivier Theatre
(NT)
The National Theatre's annus mirabilis continues. Six months in, 2010 has provided
an almost unbroken stream of hits.
Welcome to Thebes is a wonderfully
ambitious updating of Greek mythology by Moira Buffini,
who offers us a racy modern story with appropriately uncompromising, poetic
language and a feminist slant.
The playwright is helped in bringing
her own sometimes subverted brand of mythology to the stage by her director,
Sir Richard Eyre. The former Artistic Director of the theatre obviously
relishes the chance to work in a reputedly tricky space and has the remarkable
knack of faultlessly moving an oversized cast around the Olivier stage without
any apparent effort.
Miss Buffini
has moved the story of Thebes to some unnamed African country today and it is
chilling to see how little feels out of time or place.
Thebes is under the leadership of a
parliament of women fronted by Nikki Amuka-Bird's Euridyce. She has her work cut out to remain in power as
competing groups lay claim to her throne.
The most powerful are the Athenians
under the powerful Theseus, played with oodles of
charm by David Harewood. Their imperialist tendencies
might bring to mind inevitable contemporary parallels, as Theseus
tries not only to get what he wants from the war-torn state but also its
attractive President.
He seems positively benign when
compared with vain warlord "Prince" Tydeus,
Chuk Iwuji and his vengeful
sidekick Creon's widow and Euridyce's
sister-in-law Pargeia, Rakie
Ayola.
There are many other undercurrents
to pack out a bloody but highly entertaining 2¾ hours. On stage, we see
the torment of Antigone (Vinette
Robinson) over the unburied corpse of her brother Polynices
contrasted with the indifference of their gorgeous (and doesn’t she know
it) sister Ismene (Tracy Ifeachor).
They are ineffectually courted by
the first of two blind men, Euridyce's good-hearted
son Haemon (Simon Manyonda).
All is watched over not only by the
Gods but also blind Tiresias, who is memorably
portrayed by Bruce Myers. The old man is both a reminder of the state's sordid
past and a seer predicting a future that is bad for all. The worst sufferer is Theseus himself, perennially worried about telephonic
silence of his wife Phaedra and son, Hippolytus, with cause.
Chuck in a few child soldiers and
reports of atrocities perpetrated by all and you have a play that successfully
links its mythical roots to the modern world.
To enjoy Welcome to Thebes to the
maximum, it helps to have at least a rudimentary grasp of Greek myth either
from past experience or the playwright's helpful programme notes, if only to
get some of the dark in-jokes. However, newcomers should still take away a
great deal from this lively, action-packed new version in a fine production.
The risk is also minimised, since
Travelex are sponsoring the play as part of their latest £10 season. As
such, this must be one of the best entertainment bargains currently available
in the Capital.
Tickets: www.nationaltheatre.org.uk
Reviewed by Philip Fisher
for Theatreworld Internet Magazine
TAP
DOGS
Now playing at Novello Theatre
THE
DOG’S WHATSITS IN EVERY WAY
Sparks fly - quite literally at one point – as Tap
Dogs pays electrifying homage to its origins in an Australian welding factory.
The curious genesis of this unique high-voltage entertainment
stems from its originator Dein Perry, choreographer
and tapmeister extraordinaire, who studied tap from
the ages of four to 17 before taking up a job as a fitter and turner in a
steelworks in Newcastle, his native hometown.
It took a move to Sydney for his ideas to gel into a show
which has been evolving for almost 20 years now and won an Olivier Award on its
previous visit to London.
In his stated aim to make the show different from anything
that’s ever been before, his success is absolute and Tap Dogs is a
triumph of both imagination and execution. And, although, even at a compact 80
minutes (no interval) it can never be said to drag, towards the end of its
multiple curtain calls to ever-more ambitious routines some may find it
starting to begin to outstay its welcome.
There are only so many creative avenues - however
awe-inspiring - that six male tappers, two percussion wizards (both blonde and
female) and an electric music director can go down and they explore every
single one with increasing vigour and often at ear-splitting, gut-pounding,
volume.
Although the programme note pays tribute to Fred Astaire,
don’t expect sartorial elegance or ballroom sophistication in this
down-and-dirty show that six sweaty men deliver in regular street clothes on a
variety of different wood, steel and glass surfaces whose sound spectrums they
exploit to the full with an assortment of props that help give the show its
visual diversity.
But it is in the consistently brilliant execution of the
deafening fusillade of actual steps that the show regularly scores, with Adam
Garcia (given crowd-pulling star billing) being very much first among equals as
his co-horts regularly vie for the limelight whether
showcasing their tireless skills on ramps, a stage that splits into two zig-zag halves, a basketball solo that turns into a
free-for-all for all six muscular performers, that spectacular welding sequence
and even a solo danced upside down on the ceiling (pointework
and splits included!). Not to mention the full-company hoofing in a trough of
water that soaks the first several rows of the stalls - thoughtfully provided
with disposable mackintoshes for the occasion.
But there is nothing in the least ‘wet’ about
this testosterone-fuelled extravaganza that celebrates the phenomenal art of
tap as never before. Without a doubt, this edition of Tap Dogs is the
dog’s whatsits in every way.
Tuesdays to Thursdays at
8.00pm, with Friday performances at 6.00pm and 9.00pm:
Saturday performances at
5.00pm and 8.00pm: Sunday at 3.00pm.
Tickets, from
£17.50 – £49.50
Box Office on 0844 482
5170 or at www.tapdogs.co.uk.
Reviewed
for Theatreworld Internet Magazine by Clive Burton
AFTER THE DANCE
By Terence Rattigan
Now playing in
repertory at the Lyttleton Theatre (NT) until August 11th
The play Terence Rattigan himself
did not include in his own play anthology, After The
Dance, has been resurrected by the National Theatre to great acclaim after
languishing unperformed for half a century. I tend to think Rattigan had a
point. It was his second play; his first, French Without
Tears, having been a triumph. He triumphed again with this, but only for about
3 weeks. It was 1939, war was looming, and people were not much interested in
going to the theatre to see a play about profoundly trivial people. Mind you,
Rattigan says rather profound things about human nature through his weak and
silly vessels. If they don’t irritate you too much, and you can stick
with it to Act III, the final Act is worth the wait.
Director, Thea
Sharrock, makes no concessions to the passage of
time, and directs After The Dance as it would have
been performed in its period. Middle aged, upper middle class characters
inhabit an elegant Mayfair flat, pretending they are still “Bright Young
Things”, and recalling marvellous japes and parties where folks with
names like Dickie hung from the chandelier and how
funny it was, and wasn’t it a shame that the then fell through the
balustrade and killed himself. The worst social offense you can imagine
is to be thought a bore.
Did people ever really talk like this?
They sound like characters in a play, which is, of course, what they are.
Rattigan was a wonderful technician and his plays got better and better as he
went along. In After The Dance he is learning his
craft. All the stock characters are there. Some of the best lines go to the
hanger-on, Adrian Scarborough in wonderful form as John Reid, the terribly
amusing chap who lives in the flat gratis, insults his host, and inhabits the
sofa.
The story revolves around Joan and
Peter Scott-Fowler, Trustafarians in today’s
world, who while away their time throwing parties, gossiping, and convincing
themselves that life is just hilarious; including their friend the drug addict
and the woman who trails around the young working class man. Joan, in her
youth, was more serious minded, but loves Peter and so is playing his game.
Peter aspires to better things but lacks both the intellect and the discipline
to ever fulfil his ambitions. Nancy Carroll and John Heffernan are both
wonderful portraying these poor souls throwing away their lives, which must
have been common in Rattigan’s youth among those who had experienced the
slaughter of WWI.
Into this domestic scene comes Helen
Banner, Faye Castelow, perfectly cast as the youthful
idealist who decides she is in love with Peter, shattering their mindless
idyll, with plans to marry him, reform him, cure him of incipient liver damage
from all the boozing, and do all the things his long suffering wife Joan has
always known were impossible. Peter falls for it, and the rest is tragedy.
Except that he does the right thing in the end.
The characters make a great deal of
being “in love” as opposed to loving. Joan may love Peter, but
Helen and Peter are “in love”, which excuses everything.
Tragically, Joan and Peter have the “marriage of true minds”.
As Shakespeare wrote, “Love is not love that alters when it alteration
finds”. Rattigan was in his 20’s when he wrote this play. He would
have understood this, but his characters, with the exception of Joan,
don’t. As one of his characters remarks, these bright young things
are neither very bright nor very young.
Terence Rattigan went on to write
profoundly, deeply, and exquisitely about the complexities of human emotion,
including The Deep Blue Sea, The Winslow Boy, The Browning Version and Separate
Tables, to name but a few. In 1952, when he published his collected plays, from
which he excluded After The Dance, he used the term “Aunt Edna”, to
describe the sort of theatre goer who would not rush to, for example,
“Shopping and Fucking”, not a play I enjoyed either. I love
Rattigan normally, but despite superb performances all round, this is too much
a period piece even for me. However, there are enough Aunt Edna’s to more
than fill the Lyttleton’s seats until August. The National has a real hit
on its hands.
The frocks, for those who care, are
beyond divine. Designer, Hildegard Bechtler has created gowns of perfect
1930’s proportions, line and colour. My but those dresses were
flattering, and Nancy Carroll as Joan wears them most beautifully.
Tickets: www.nationaltheatre.org.uk
Reviewed by Judith M
Steiner for Theatreworld Internet Magazine
PS: One of the reasons After the Dance
is rarely performed might be that it requires a cast of 25. For Rattigan
lovers, next year is the 100th anniversary of his birth and
Chichester will be doing a Rattigan season. I can’t wait, seriously. But
I won’t be going to After The Dance again.
ALL MY SONS
By Arthur Miller
Now playing at the Apollo Theatre, Shaftesbury Avenue
Miller
might be preaching morality, integrity and responsibility, but he does it in a
way which keeps the audience as intrigued and involved as if watching a crime
thriller – as indeed it is, as the layers of respectability are gradually
stripped away to reveal ---- what --- that the whole of life
is a balancing act and a compromise, but maybe we should be able to do better!
First
performed in 1947, and disturbingly based on a true story, the loss of so many
young men in World War Two still fresh and raw in the mind must have rendered
Joe’s crime unforgivable, and he deserved to suffer for it as they had
suffered.
The
story begins with a violent thunderstorm which rocks the very foundations of
the theatre and has the enormous willows in William Dudley’s magnificent
American backyard set whipping and lashing from side to side, as the door
bursts open and a distraught Kate Keller (Zoe Wannamaker) rushes into the storm
in time to see a tree, a very special tree, snapped in two, but it is not just
the storm that disturbs her!
The
next morning all is sunshine, sweetness and light, a happy family laughing and
joking together with the neighbours, and David Suchet
is the epitome of a successful business man living the American Dream –
just an ordinary ‘Joe’ providing for his family. It is hard to believe that this is
the same man as the prissy little pernickety Belgian detective invented by
Agatha Christie. His bonhomie
continues, even as secrets and lies come to light, but his ready smile becomes
more strained, more of an effort, and the outgoing friendly exterior gradually
shrinks and crumples until the inevitable conclusion when, in the style of a
Greek tragedy, he has to appease the gods by paying for his crime in the only
way possible.
Joe
Keller’s crime was knowingly supplying faulty cylinder heads for fighter
planes, sending twenty-one pilots to their deaths and allowing his innocent
partner to take the rap - a crime still frighteningly relevant when thinking of
our ill-equipped soldiers in Afghanistan.
Joe’s
own son, Larry, was killed in the war three years ago (the broken tree was his
memorial) but Kate stubbornly refuses to believe he is dead. Within the next twenty four hours
more than the tree is found to be destroyed.
The
surviving son, an idealistic Chris (Stephen Campbell-Moore) is hoping to marry Larry’s
fiancée Ann Deever (Jemima Rooper), daughter of the betrayed partner, but
until Kate can accept Larry’s death this is going to be a problem –
even more so when Ann’s brother George arrives with accusations and
recriminations, and Ann’s last letter from Larry is the final nail in the
coffin.
There
is fun and laughter from cynical neighbour Sue Bayliss
complaining about her doctor husband Jim (Steven Elder) and Olivia Darnley is a
charming Lydia Lubey, the happily domesticated
housewife with three babies, and director Howard Davies brings out superb
performances from every one, but it is Wannamaker who is truly astonishing,
from forced gaiety covering inner hurt, to her motherly welcoming of George
turning a scene of conflict into a cosy reunion, and finally cradling her
disgraced husband in her arms in resigned acceptance.
Suchet’s performance too is
stupendous as he slowly changes from the one in control doing everything for
his son, until finally realising that with responsibility for the wider world “They
were all my sons”.
A
powerful and emotional unforgettable production!
Book
Tickets: www.apollo-theatre.co.uk
Reviewed by Sheila Connor for Theatreworld Internet Magazine Internet
Magazine
HENRY
VIII
By William Shakespeare
Now playing at Shakespeare’s Globe, in repertory,
until 21st August.
This play is rarely performed - in fact so seldom that I was previously not
aware of its existence - and I can now see why. It is not so much a
story, more a series of gloriously opulent pageants, contrasting dramatically
with the devastating rejection by Henry of his first wife, and interspersed
with the machinations of jealous courtiers and discussions on economy and taxes
- that part very relevant now.
This
Henry (Dominic Rowan) is not the wife-despatching monster he later became - not
yet - but this is where it all began. Here is a relatively young and
fit monarch (a game of real tennis is slipped in to show his athleticism),
worried that he has no male heir to succeed him, and his wife of twenty three
years, although producing daughter Mary, is now too old to conceive.
Lust creeps into the picture too when he meets the young and beautiful
Anne Boleyn.
The
pageantry gives plenty of scope for Angela Davies to indulge in creating a
spectacle and the stage is overflowing with silks, satins, gold, jewels and
furs. Puppets are used frequently, their costumes echoing
the courtiers and beginning with miniature knights on horseback in a jousting
contest.
The
ostentatious luxury contrasts strongly with the state of the poor Queen
Katherine of Aragon, dressed in dark gown and surrounded by similarly clad
ladies, but her plight is the main point of the play, and Kate Duchene makes
sure we are aware of it. She is no pathetic creature pleading for her
right to remain a wife and a queen. This Katherine is angry and
resentful and soundly berates Henry reminding him that she has been a good and
faithful wife and borne him many children (sadly all but one dying in infancy).
Even when she is sick and dying, her pain so bad that she is unable to
sit still, her anger hasn’t left her and she beats her stick on the floor
and stamps in and out of the multi-doored set with
rather more ear-piercing shrieks than seem necessary. Not one to suffer
in silence!
The
other main thread to the tale is the treachery of Cardinal Wolsey who has been
surreptitiously lining his own pockets at the expense of state funds as well as
manipulating affairs to his own advantage. Ian McNeice
is not unlike the portrait by Samuel Strong, his rotund figure and genial
features suggesting that he has been enjoying the good life of which he has
been accused, and Michael Bertenshaw’s Sir
Thomas Lovell injects a good deal of very camp comedy into the proceedings, but
it is the women who come out tops in this play.
Aside
from Katherine, Miranda Raisin’s Anne Boleyn is a joy. As well as
being beautiful she is flirtatious and impishly mischievous, intelligent and
sensible. “By my troth and maidenhead I would not be queen”
she says “No, not for all the riches under heaven”. That
speech caused laughter, the audience knowing the outcome. Amanda
Lawrence, too, excels as the Fool as well as a very comically outspoken
Lady-in-Waiting.
400
years ago a production of this play caused the Globe to burn to the ground.
The play is unlikely to set the world on fire, but Mark
Rosenblatt’s interpretation is sure to please with it’s mixture of exquisite pageantry, hilarious
camp comedy and malicious intrigue.
Book
Tickets: www.shakespeares-globe.org
Reviewed by Sheila Connor for Theatreworld Internet
Magazine
SWEET CHARITY
Now playing at The Theatre Royal Haymarket, Haymarket
Nipped and tucked in
some places and slightly expanded in others, this Menier version of Neil Simon
(book), Cy Coleman (music) and Dorothy Fields’
(lyrics) Sweet Charity is the latest in a line of much-lauded musicals that
this prolific production house has successfully transferred to the West End in
recent years.
This, too, is an
iconic show and as Charity Hope Valentine (still optimistic about life despite
a string of disastrous boyfriends and eight fruitless ‘temporary’
years wasted as a dance hall hostess in a seedy New York club where some
of the underpaid girls - though not the ever-chirpy Charity - cross the
line into prostitution to make ends meet) Tamzin Outhwaite is irresistible.
Marginally less
‘kooky’ than Shirley MacLaine was in the movie
(and her New York accent, thankfully, nowhere near the gratingly far-fetched
travesty so often foisted on us by British actors playing Brooklyn ‘goils’), she is a natural in every sense of the word.
Her tireless singing and dancing consistently demonstrate an innate star
quality and boundless stamina during a long evening during which she is
seldom off stage.
She tackles the taxing
role with an abundance of charm that wins our hearts as we will her luck
to change when she finally comes across a man whose unconditional love could
whisk her away from her seedy surroundings.
A ‘regular
guy’ with a stack of neuroses that would put any Woody Allen character to
shame, Oscar Lindquist is a nerdy claustrophobic accountant whom she meets in a
faulty lift during an unscheduled stop between floors and starts a chaste
romance. He is a world away from the shallow sleekness of Vittorio
Vidal, a self-assured Italian movie idol
who gives Charity a one-night taste of the high life (albeit from
inside the closet where she is forced to hide from his
predatory mistress).
Mark Umbers
presents both Oscar and Vittorio (plus
boyfriend number one, Charlie) with considerable panache as a stand-out member
of a knockout cast doubling their roles to stunning effect as Tim Shortall’s quick-change sets whisk us seamlessly
between the seedy backstage setting of the Fan-Dango
Club and the open spaces of a New York park with en route stops in a classy
up-market disco, Vittorio’s palatial pad and
many an atmospheric stop in between.
Whatever the setting,
Matthew White directs with an easy fluency that gives everyone in the cast a
chance to shine: from the hippy holy rollers in ‘Rhythm of Life’,
coke-snorting dancers discoing in a sophisticated new take on ‘Rich Man’s
Frug’ (with the bonus of an eye-catching
Ebony Molina) or clapped-out club hostesses grinding out ‘Hey, Big
Spender’, he nails each scene with attention-grabbing ease.
At the heart of the
show, and with nary a nod in the direction of Bob Fosse, the dancing takes on fresh
lustre thanks to Stephen Mear’s sizzlingly spot-on choreography - it’s not often a
West End show gives so many goose bumps in this department - while Chris
Walker’s lively orchestrations are played with irresistible verve by a
great band under Nigel Lilley.
If you are looking
for 'fun, fun, fun' then Charity is the show for you.
Monday – Saturday at 7.30pm: Wednesday and Saturday matinees at
2.30pm
Tickets: £17.50 - £55.00
Box Office: 0845 481 1870
Website: www.sweetcharitywestend.com
Reviewed by Clive Burton for Theatreworld Internet Magazine
ALL THE FUN OF THE
FAIR
Now playing at the Garrick Theatre, Charing Cross Road
Setting
out its’ stall in London on the final stop of a successful national tour,
All the Fun of the Fair is a David Essex back-catalogue musical inspired by the
eponymous best-selling album. Like many a fairground enterprise, this show is
also very much a family affair, dependent upon the close co-operation of its
creators and investors to get it on the road.
David
Essex (starring as pater familias
Levi Lee) wrote the original music and lyrics that inspired his prolific
long-term associate Jon Conway to pen a book which was quick to receive
Essex’s enthusiastic blessing. With its popular star headliner and heady
mixture of dodgems and motorbikes,
crafty cons and candy floss, fairground horses and fights, unrequited love,
romance and rock and roll, it’s easy to see the show’s appeal on
paper to producer Lee Dean. And, indeed, it has since gone on to fill
provincial houses before finally pitching camp in the West End.
Fast forward to press night and a very different
reality emerges with David
Essex’s first appearance setting the tone for a shaky evening compounded
by dodgy accents, lack-lustre singing and dancing and the unconvincing
macho posturing of a bunch of East End 'geezers'.
Because
the direction is so tentative (David Gilmore) and the book so under-written,
the character one looks to for galvanising the piece into action is
Levi’s philandering son, Jack (Michael Pickering) who is intent on
reviving the family’s ailing fortunes by re-instating the Wall of Death
which had so recently killed his mother (who may - or may not - have learned of
her husband’s infidelity just before meeting her death on the infamous
attraction).
Curiously
though, instead of pursuing this dream for the family, he decides instead to
elope to Doncaster with ‘outsider’ Alice (Nicola Brazil), the
daughter of an East End gangster who is intent on ending the romance.
Essaying
his first leading role in the West End, Pickering can’t quite nail the
early Essex vocal magic needed to imbue the songs with their original charisma
and, like almost everyone else, his performance could benefit from ramping up
the wattage considerably.
But
the most unsettling element of the evening is the inclusion of a
much-mocked ‘simpleton’ character, Slow Jonny, who bears the brunt
of a tirade of unsavoury jibes that leave the audience discomfited at his every
appearance: his broad playing (Tim Newman) only serves to underline how
ill-considered the role is in the first place.
The
catchy songs roll by adding little to the plot and often serving only to
emphasise the gulf between sophisticated show lyrics in ‘real’
musicals and their (all-too-often) ill-rhymed pop counterparts at the heart
of a jukebox compilation show such as this. A small and
largely-synthesised band adds little to the sense of occasion and I fear that
it may not be long before this particular caravan moves on.
Box Office:
0844 412 4662
Website: www.allthefunofthefairmusical.com
Performances: Tuesday
to Saturday at 7.30pm
Wednesday and
Saturday at 3pm : Sunday at 4pm
Ticket
prices: £25, £35, £45 and £55
Booking until 5
September 2010
Reviewed by Clive Burton
for Theatreworld Internet Magazine
THE REAL THING
by Tom Stoppard
Now playing at
the Old Vic Theatre
It's not far short of 30 years since
Sir Tom Stoppard wrote The Real Thing but as another writing team has recently
reminded us, Love Never Dies.
In his inimitable way, the
playwright explores the topic of love in painful depth but also provides a
characteristic philosophical underpinning to his semi-autobiographical plot.
Anna Mackmin's
fine revival starts with a Stoppardian surprise, as
we observe a quartet of central characters all of whom are sophisticated
theatre folk. Within a picture frame created by designer Lez
Brotherston and filled with what went as state of the
art trendy minimalism in the early 80s, we witness a web of infidelities
wrapped up in the framework of plays within plays.
To add depth, these are then
illuminated by parallels in the plays in which one of the lynchpins Hattie Morahan's appropriately flirty, flighty Annie, a part
created by and reputedly modelled on Felicity Kendal, is performing, Miss Julie
and Tis Pity She's a Whore.
Although The Real Thing frequently
threatens to become too clever for its own good, it is
rescued by the writer's humour and the feeling that much of what goes on is, as
the title suggests, drawn from real life.
Indeed the convincing Toby Stephens
as the protagonist, a good natured playwright called Henry, suffers much
anguish while pursuing love with Annie and keeping a writing career going. The
latter becomes difficult, as Annie foists her latest project, an imprisoned,
politicised soldier and his pedestrian play on to her reluctant lover.
Along the way, the distinguished but
in some ways down to earth Henry has to endure the threat of losing her but
also troubles with his patrician ex, another actress played with grim realism
by Fenella Woolgar and
dad/daughter problems that give Louise Calf playing Debbie the chance to
deliver a lovely cameo.
Stoppard plays can be wordy but his
writing is always a delight and few writers for the stage play with ideas so
cogently. The Real Thing is only dated by its music, which in itself is a homage to Henry's tastes that were already old hat n 1982.
Otherwise, it feels completely contemporary, as viewers will instantly recognise
people and situations on stage that could as easily have come from life.
Kevin Spacey should be delighted
with the result of his latest commission, which should keep the box office very
busy throughout the run, or at least until all of the tickets
sell out.
Reviewed by Philip
Fisher for Theatreworld Internet Magazine
HAIR
Music
by Galt MacDermot / book and lyrics by Gerome Ragni
and James Rado
Now playing at The Gielgud Theatre
When Hair opened in London in 1968 at the rickety Shaftesbury
Theatre, it literally brought the House down - and caused the show’s
premature closure when the roof fell in after 1,998 performances. Its plot was
woven around contemporary issues of sexual, personal, political and racial
freedom and its Censor-defying nude scene could only be played once the
authority of that archaic Office had finally crumbled.
At the time, the impact of this American musical was considerable
and its legacy remains undeniable even today; what distinguishes it from many
of the rock musicals that followed – Rent and Spring Awakening being the
most prominent examples – is its instantly catchy score, with music by Galt MacDermot and
book and right-on-the-button lyrics by Gerome Ragni
and James Rado.
Thanks to a recent easing of American and UK Equity strictures
regarding trans-Atlantic transfers, Diane Paulus’s
Broadway staging now reaches London intact in a stunning production that has
its Big Apple roots stamped all over it. So spontaneous does it all feel,
that we could be witnessing a series of ‘real-life’ events being
played out on stage for the very first time: Karole Armitage’s touchy-feely choreography blends
seamlessly with the action and emerges as a natural part of the organic
whole to create a believable hole in the fabric of time to take us back to the
drug-filled, testosterone-fuelled world of Hair’s origins.
As Claude, Gavin Creel provides a sweet-voiced touchstone to the
feelings of his fellows that nicely counterpoints Will Swenson’s assured,
but occasionally-little-boy lost Berger, to whose performance one’s eyes
(and ears) are invariably drawn. They are joined by a sweetly ditzy Kacie Sheik as the heavily-pregnant Jeanie, Luther
Creek’s baying-at-the-moon Woof, Caissie
Levy’s politically-astute Sheila and a host of other young people
struggling to make sense of the modern world and doing their best to affect a
change in the face of opposition from the State and their elders.
Naked or clothed, the other members of the
‘Tribe’ of this love-rock musical also exhibit their
own individual characteristics - no pun intended! – and the level of sexual energy coursing through the
auditorium during the evening is quite simply phenomenal.
Hearing so many (forgotten) songs weave in and out of the
loosely-spun fabric of the book provides a constant delight to those who know
them already and will surely surprise a generation weaned on today’s
melody-lite musicals.
Sung by Sasha Allen’s Dionne, ‘The Age of
Aquarius’ is one of the first songs to infiltrate the mind, but there is
also the snoop-cocking ‘Sodomy’ number for Woof, Sheila’s
poignant ‘Easy to be Hard’, ‘Good Morning Starshine’
and Claude’s early life-affirming anthem ‘I Got Life’ which
eventually cedes its initial optimism to the bewilderment of ‘Where do I
go?
Played by one of the tightest bands in London with a cutting-edge
brass section under Richard Beadle, each number brings the house down –
although, hopefully, not quite so literally as the first London production did.
Evening performances
Monday – Saturday at 7.30pm: Thursday and Saturday matinees at 2.30pm.
Tickets are priced £17.50 - £65 and are available from www.hairthemusical.co.uk
Reviewed for
Theatreworld Internet Magazine by Clive Burton
THE WHITE GUARD
By Mikhail Bulgakov
A new version by Andrew Upton.
Now playing in repertory
at the Lyttelton Theatre (NT)
I feel that for the last
few days I have been living in the middle of a war zone! Theatre Alibi’s version of Graham
Greene’s ‘Ministry of Fear’ was presented in comical style,
but still produced a graphic depiction of life during the London Blitz - the
sound, sight and smell of conflict
Then, passing through
Victoria Station on my way to the National, passengers were scattered in all
directions as a dozen members of the Transport Police Force hurtled with great
urgency across the concourse while several police vans blared their warning
sirens outside. I never did find out what that was all about, which
leads me to the White Guard and the Russian Civil War as nobody seemed to be
quite certain what that was all about either, or whose side they were fighting
on. This was neatly illustrated in a scene which saw soldiers wildly
swinging their pistols from one target to another, not at all sure who it was
they ought to shoot. The futility of war!
The upheaval in Russia
began with the first World War and carried on with the Revolution and the
assassination of the Tsar - Ukraine in particular suffered from multiple changes
of power as the fighting raged between the Bolsheviks, the Provisional
Government, the White Army, and the Ukrainian
Liberation Army. The Germans had a say in things too as they had annexed
Ukraine and set up a puppet government under a local ‘Hetman’,
played in this production by Anthony Calf - with more than a touch of Herr
Flick of ‘‘Allo, Allo’
fame. When danger threatens he is off to Berlin --- “The best rats
are always the first from the ship”.
Bulgakov lived through this period and has used several
family names in his play, notably the Turbins with
brothers Alexei and Nicolai. We meet them in Kiev in the spacious
apartment shared with sister Elena and her husband who
is Deputy War Minister for the Hetman and another one to look after himself.
In Kevin Doyle’s hands he is camp, selfish and rather foolish, but
certainly adds to the comedy.
Bunnie Christie’s sets are magnificent and very
varied each smoothly changing from every direction and beginning and ending
with the Turbin’s apartment - where life goes
on, as it must even under a different regime.
Performances from this
enormous cast are strong throughout - a true ensemble production - but
some stand out and stay in the memory. Pip Carter as
student Larion is endearingly comical from the moment
he first enters accidentally shedding snow and shit (he stood in something
nasty outside) to his endless poetry, his first hangover and his misplaced
love. Daniel Flynn’s Alexei is commanding - calm, authoritative
and the only one to talk sense about the conflict. Brother Nikolai
(Richard Henders) is so
carefree as he sings happily at the beginning (something not totally
appreciated by his brother and sister) that it’s a shock to see what the
war has done to him at the end. Conleth
Hill’s Lieutenant Leonid Shervinsky sings
divinely, his attempts at speaking ‘Ukrainian‘ are hilarious - and
Justine Michell’s Elena is a dream of calm,
patience and serenity -- keeping her ‘boys‘ in order when they
become too boisterous.
Director Howard Davies
has kept the pace fast and balanced comedy and cosy domesticity against the
horrors of war which are depicted in vivid and shocking detail in this
thrilling, moving and sometimes frighteningly realistic production.
Reviewed
by Sheila Connor for Theatreworld Internet Magazine
LOVE
NEVER DIES
Music by Andrew Lloyd Webber, Lyrics
by Glenn Slater
Book by Andrew Lloyd Webber & Ben
Elton with Glenn Slater and Frederick Forsyth
Now playing at the Adelphi Theatre
Lord Lloyd
Webber has always been strong on marketing and developing his musical brands so
perhaps the major surprise is that he has taken so long to write a sequel to
one of his earlier hits.
Since there
is little doubt that Love Never Dies will prove lucrative, both in its own
right and as a marketing tool for its progenitor The Phantom of the Opera, the
only question is whether we can now expect Dogs or Herod the Hero to follow.
Love
Never Dies has much to praise and a fair amount that does not come off so well.
On the plus side, the design is so good that at times it can overshadow the
show's main attractions.
Bob
Crowley has mixed sensational, dreamlike computer graphics with more old
fashioned props such as a haunting, centaur-pulled carriage; and magical
illusions to create a Coney Island funfair and House of Horrors that is
unforgettable.
The tale
that this design so spectacularly embellishes is of old flames reigniting. Ramin Karimloo as The Phantom is
given ample opportunity to exercise his powerful tonsils, while his leading
lady, American import Sierra Boggess gets her moment
of glory, threatening any passing chandeliers while hitting the high notes in
the title song.
Coney
Island is the place to which the sadder, older Phantom has fled from Paris
after losing the woman with whom he is still obsessed ten years later,
Christine to bitter Raoul the handsome but profligate
Viscomte, now played by Joseph Millson.
In an
effort to replenish the lost family fortune, Christine agrees to play a gig at
the funfair bringing hubby and their 10-year-old son Gustav along for the ride
(pun intended).
There,
they encounter not only the dreaded Phantom, who still fantasises wildly about
his lost love, but other old friends too.
Liz
Robertson's stony-faced Madame Giry and her lovely,
intellectually-blonde daughter Meg have been keeping the show alive for a
decade selling bland, end of the pier variety, exemplified by a rip-off Salome
seven veils song perhaps inspired by Itsy Bitsy Teenie Weenie Yellow Polka Dot Bikini.
The
daughter, the only character anything like fully drawn, is for whatever reason
driven by a constant desire to please their never seen mentor and portrayed
with spirit by the peppy, winning Summer Strallen
In
true melodramatic style, predictable skeletons emerge from the cupboard, none
anything like as interesting as the evening's best illusion from Scott Penrose,
a woman with shapely human legs but a skeletal upper half.
All
builds to a series of showdowns and a death scene so prolonged that it might
rank an entry in next year's Guinness Book of Records.
It
does not help a limp plot to have an evening of trite lyrics that seem written
purely to rhyme rather than emphasise the beauty of what we see and hear, as
not only is the design of the highest quality but much of the score shows
variety and imagination.
While
the title song may be sub-operatic, the three best tunes Devil Take the
Hindmost, The Beauty Underneath and Heaven by the Sea are respectively Kurt
Weill pastiche, heavy rock and musical standard.
So
what to make of a flawed classic? On balance, for anyone that loves Lord LW and
more particularly Phantom, this is a must see. That should also extend to
musical fans who are not looking for too much
intellectual stimulation. In other words, Love Never Dies is an inevitable hit
that is bound to prove popular and triumphantly travel the globe in the wake of
its Parisian parent.
Buy
tickets: http://www.loveneverdies.com
Reviewed
by Philip Fisher for Theatreworld Internet Magazine
GHOSTS
by Henrik
Ibsen
A
new version by Frank McGuinness
Now playing at the Duchess Theatre,
West End
Once you begin on the slippery slope of keeping up
appearances there is no turning back, as Mrs. Helene Alving
finds to her cost, yet would her life have been better if the truth had been
known from the start?
Ibsen’s play covers so many issues of morality that
it’s difficult to take them all on board, and bringing them into the open
certainly scandalised a hypocritical late nineteenth century self-righteous
society which preferred to cover up anything it considered distasteful.
Matters of the sanctity of marriage, incest, infidelity and (horrifyingly)
venereal disease and euthanasia, as well as the plight of women living in a
male-dominated world, are all considered, and should the right to personal
happiness be sacrificed in the name of
‘duty’?
Building an orphanage to the memory of her late husband is
Mrs. Alving’s final act of duty, still
perpetuating the myth that he was an upright and honourable man and she can now
dismiss his memory and look forward to a life of freedom with the beloved son
who has just returned home from his life as an
artist in Paris - but ‘the sins of the fathers are visited on the children’
and the ghosts of the past come back to haunt her.
Characters are well drawn and well represented with
the delicate-featured, socially ambitious maid Regina (Jessica Raine) an unlikely offspring of the rough and conniving
carpenter Engstrand (Malcolm Storry)
alerting our suspicions from the start. Lesley Sharp as Mrs. Alving breezes in like a breath of spring, attractive,
elegantly gowned and eager to begin life at last, throwing off the yoke that
has been her duty for so many years, but the hope and excitement in her eyes is
soon dashed to depression and unease as history seems to be repeating itself
and finally turns to total anguish and despair with a momentous decision to
make. Should she help her son to end his life as he begs her to do?
The very question which has gained so much media
attention recently - still not resolved.
Harry Treadaway gives a fine
interpretation of a young man in pain and suffering from a disease he does not
understand, managing to look gaunt and wracked with pain and anguish, before
sinking into a coma as Sharp agonises over her decision.
Duty is the main preoccupation of Pastor Manders played by Ian Glen (who also directs) as the total
embodiment of a sanctimonious, self-satisfied minister who casts a dubious eye
on the radical books chosen by Mrs. A. and picks them up with thumb and
forefinger as if they were contaminated, at the same time lecturing her on the
superiority of men. One wonders how she could have had any amorous
feelings for such a character. So sure of his God-given right is
he that he blames the lack of insurance for the destroyed orphanage on anyone
but himself and, in the final irony, agrees to fund Engstrand’s
euphemistically named ‘sanctuary for sailors’ as a fitting
memorial for Mr. Alving - as indeed it is!
Click here to
book tickets for Ghosts - From £34.00
Reviewed by Sheila Connor for
Theatreworld Internet Magazine
The Royal Court Theatre production of ..
REALLY OLD,
LIKE FORTY FIVE
by Tamsin
Oglesby
Now playing in
repertory at the Cottesloe Theatre
Tamsin
Oglesby’s latest play about the perils of growing old is a bizarre hybrid
of EastEnders for the elderly and Friends
set in an English care home.
The
story, directed by Anna Mackmin, revolves around
three ageing siblings, well played by Judy Parfitt, Gawn Grainger and Marcia Warren, and a motley crew of
unconvincing offspring: a badly coping daughter (Amelia Bullmore),
an adopted grand-daughter (Lucy May Barker), who becomes pregnant, and a
computer gaming obsessed grandson (Thomas Jordan). Over the course of the
drama, the three oldsters end up in the Arc, the officials’
ground-breaking hospital for the “vulnerable“, while the rest are
left to cope - or not.
The
best thing about this play is none of the above, but two fabulous scene
stealing characters, Michela Meazza’s
robot nurse, and Paul Ritter’s NHS policy official.
Meazza plays a
freshly minted androgynous mannequin from whose sexy white dolly nurse uniform
sprout long, angular plastic looking arms and legs which twist and turn to a
syncopated robotic soundtrack. As she strokes her patients, her red lips
alternate between crazy fixed expressions of joy, or lost misery as she
mechanically parrots whatever sorrow is imparted to her. It’s a brilliant
performance with echoes of the world according to Matthew Bourne in whose many
productions Meazza has starred.
Paul
Ritter’s disillusioned bureaucrat also likes to posture and parade as,
from a raised podium, he shows us screens featuring redesigned station
platforms for the future, with three lanes, one for the elderly, the next for
the middle aged movers, and the third for younger sprinters. When he discovers he
has early onset dementia, he gives a tour de force of a speech and a
performance, mounting hysteria laced with snatches of random nursery rhymes.
The
programme is full of information about the
liabilities of an ageing population, suggesting that this is a play inviting us
seriously to consider our future decline. There are a few moments of tenderness
as the siblings relive moments from their shared pasts, but they lie buried
under the weight of an unsurprising plot and comic, but essentially trivial, dialogue.
The
playwright works best when she marries her ear for the surreal with the
everyday as in her earlier, and much better play, My
Best Friend. Really Old, Like Forty-Five celebrates
the surreal but consigns the everyday, along with its patients, to banality.
Tickets:
www.nationaltheatre.org.uk
Reviewed by
Charlotte Birkett for Theatreworld Internet Magazine
ENRON
by Lucy Prebble
Now playing at the Noel Coward
Theatre, St Martin’s Lane
Enron is a vastly-ambitious morality play charting the rise
and catastrophic fall of the Texan energy giant which grew from nothing to
reach top-ten US company status in just 15 years. Employing 21,000 staff in
almost 50 countries, its success was due to a seductively-presented fantasy
based on lies, the shadiest of dealings and the most elaborate of cover-ups
with a murky trail of duplicity leading right up to the very steps of the White
House and the Bush administration.
Lucy Prebble’s lucid play
reveals every element of ‘life in the bubble’ as it was lived by the
people in the loop at Enron and its effects on those who trusted them and
shared a common belief that their judgement was infallible – even though
it was predicated on the assumption that future
income streams could be written down as current earnings from the moment a new
deal was signed. Who wouldn’t be tempted to invest in such a company
when confronted with a rise in share price from a meagre dollar to a peak of
some $95 at the height of its fame and before global debts of $38bn (small beer in comparison to today’s vast
septic debt pits) eventually brought down the whole house of cards and its
ingenious originators.
Jeffrey Skilling became Enron's top
executive and principal villain by Machiavellian
manipulation, creating a mythically-wealthy company
by following the quixotic principles of his newly-promoted
Chief Financial Officer, Andy
Fastow,
that launched shady shadow companies in which Enron's escalating debts
could be manipulated and presented as assets. As long as this ploy worked, it
was allowed to continue with the tacit blessing of company founder, Kenneth Lay
and the apparent compliance of fellow executives and a coterie of highly-paid
accountants, lawyers, analysts and investors.
The actors inhabit their real-life
fantasy world with chilling conviction and Samuel West's fine performance as
Skilling brings out both his innate nerdishness and
his master-of-the-universe self-belief.
Tim Pigott-Smith
as Lay creates a riveting portrait of a hail-fellow, well-met devout Christian
who sanctions Skilling’s business methods while largely distancing himself from their inevitable repercussions. Tom
Goodman-Hill manages to keep at bay the predatory red-eyed debt-devouring
‘raptors’ – ancillary companies created to swallow
Enron’s ever-growing debts – until the unprecedented scope of
the company’s indebtedness can no longer be concealed.
Rupert Goold’s glittering
direction brings Enron’s universe to hubristic life through a series of
stunningly-staged boardroom coups, ritualised male rites of passage, high-level
corporate schmoozing (from the President downwards), stock manipulation, sex
(between dissolute and highly-motivated, but frequently insecure, executives),
drugs (surprisingly few, apart from a few fragrant cigarettes) and rock’n’roll (some slickly choreographed dance
routines by Scott Ambler highlight particularly frantic moments on the Trading
Floor and elsewhere). All combine to create a hugely-involving multi-media
spectacle that exposes the staggering mis-use of
power as the sweet smell of success gradually turns into the fetid stench of
rotting corporate power abuse, made even more nauseating to a contemporary
audience by its relevance to recent disclosures - corporate and
political - on both sides of the Atlantic.
So, what lessons have we learned from
Enron? Very few, it would seem: bankers’ bonuses remain at the
contentious heart of our discredited financial system and corporate duplicity
and political ineptness continue unabated.
Knowing how to bend the rules for
personal, corporate and political advantage remain at the heart of our business
and political ethos - however strongly it may be denied by those in power.
Those ‘in the know’ still make their own rules and believe
themselves to be invincible and largely unaccountable to the rest of society,
their particular morality at odds with the people who (used to) trust them. As
Lord Goldsmith was reported as saying before he faced the Chilcot
Enquiry the morning after Enron’s West End opening: “people
don’t understand how the system works.” But if the system isn’t working in
a way that ‘people’ can understand, then perhaps it is time to look
at ways of changing it to become more readily transparent?
Tickets
£50.50 to £12.50
Concessions available
to Seniors/Students on day of performance
Booking from
16 January 2010 to Saturday 8 May 2010
Monday to
Saturday at 7.30pm, Wednesday & Saturday at 2.30pm
Box Office
0844 482 514
Reviewed for Theatreworld Internet Magazine by Clive Burton
LEGALLY
BLONDE – The Musical
Now
playing at The Savoy Theatre, Strand
The only excuse not to go to Legally
Blonde, the musical, is if you are dead.
And even then, this show is so uplifting that it makes a good case for
resurrection.
Elle Woods is a Californian blonde in the
Paris Hilton mould (complete with Chihuahua) who follows her Ivy League
childhood sweetheart, Warner Huntington III to Harvard where she is determined
to gain an internship with Professor Callahan’s top law firm. By
abandoning her partying lifestyle for a rigorous routine of study, she succeeds
in achieving her aim and overturns everyone’s previous misconceptions of
her as an airhead - finding herself, true love and her purpose in life along
the way.
Awash with sets and costumes in every
conceivable shade of pink (David Rockwell and Gregg Barnes), this is an undeniably
‘girlie’ show. But the secret of its wider appeal lies with an
energetically-eclectic score and engaging lyrics by Laurence O’Keefe and
Nell Benjamin. Reminiscent of the very best of Wicked, it also includes a Riverdance parody (courtesy of one of many far-fetched,
revised-since-Broadway, sub plots by book writer Heather Hach),
lashings of Hairspray’s tuneful rock energy and more than a dash of
Avenue Q’s sharp, positive-thinking, homilies.
Although the score pays homage to other
shows, it also works spectacularly well on its own well-crafted terms and has
much to commend it - including a hilarious second act showstopper.
As Elle, Sheridan Smith sets the standard:
pretty in pink, she is equally irresistible when dressed to impress in her
‘corporate’ wardrobe. Vocally and physically, she is MTV-perfect
for the part.
The rest of the buff cast ranks with the
very best the West End currently has to offer. Ex-Blue singer, Duncan James
adopts the sleepy-eyed look of Robert Mitchum to foxy
effect as Warner Huntington III, Peter Davison is a convincingly controlling Professor
Callahan and Jill Halfpenny shines as unlucky-in-love crimper Paulette Buonufonte, while Chris Ellis-Stanton as her hunky squeeze
the UPS messenger Kyle, makes the most of a knock-out cameo role delivering a
life-changing package to her.
But this is one of those shows where it
really is invidious to mention only a few individual performers: if space
permitted, everyone - including the band - would get a mention for making
Legally Blonde such fluffy fun. You might not need to check your brain at the
door, but it certainly helps to adopt a blonde attitude to enjoy this frothy
new musical to the full.
Performances: Monday,
Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday at 7.30pm
Thursday and Saturday at
2.30pm Sunday at 3pm
Box Office:
0844 871 7687
Ticket prices:
£20.00 - £62.50
Website: www.legallyblondethemusical.co.uk
Reviewed for
Theatreworld Internet Magazine by Clive Burton
THE
HABIT OF ART
by Alan Bennett
Now
playing at the Lyttelton Theatre (NT)
Since Alan
Bennett's last play at the National was The History Boys, one of the theatre's
greatest moments, the expectations for this Stoppardian
exploration of artists and their sexual foibles were inevitably high.
Reminders of that
earlier play were everywhere on opening night. Not only were the main people
behind that success brought back together, Nicholas Hytner
directing Richard Griffiths (due to Sir Michael Gambon's
withdrawal) and Frances de la Tour plus set and lighting designers but a bevy
of the original History Boys were present in the kind of starry audience that
only this venue can attract.
Bennett has specialised
in dissecting the minds of mildly eccentric loners for a long time and in The
Habit of Art features a pair of them, drawn like George III or his Single Spies
from history.
On one level, the
play is a double biography of a poet and a composer who decades before we meet
them had worked together, WH Auden and "Benjy"
Britten.
In looking at these
creative, homosexual men, who meet for the first time in twenty years towards
the end of their lives in Auden's symbolically junk-filled Oxford rooms, the
playwright also bravely takes on a subject that was still taboo in 1972 when
the play is set.
Bennett cleverly
frames his main story using the ever effective technique of a play within a
play, or at least within a rehearsal in the bowels of the National Theatre,
recreated by Bob Crowley. This allows a team of actors to comment often
comically or critically on what happens to the main characters.
With the director
missing, it is left to Miss de la Tour's touchy feely Kay, the hard working
Stage Manager to massage gigantic egos.
Richard Griffiths
is well cast as the forgetful Fitz, who plays a prematurely senile Auden; while
an equally delicious Alex Jennings creates camp Henry, an actor with a hidden
secret playing Britten, a composer ditto.
They are strongly
supported by Adrian Scarborough's Donald, a wounded nightmare struggling to
find his character, Humphrey Carpenter, who was the biographer of both men.
Before the
interval, most of the fun comes from the (onstage) actors rather than their
characters. In true Noises Off fashion, they struggle with lines and
relationships, while battling Elliot Levey's precious
writer, a man whose ego is as difficult to accept as his doggerel.
The comedy is rich,
with wonderful one-liners piling in as regularly as ever but there is far more
to this sensitive drama than a wry backstage look at actors behaving badly.
Apart from working
together and more widely the nature of artistic creation, the main common
interest of the two great men was boys as objects of desire. For Auden, the
type is typified by Steven Wight's Stuart, a rent boy with rather more heart
than might be expected.
The attractions of
boys are explored in greater depth and become a pivotal subject, since Britten,
who prefers to set his youngsters on a pedestal than abuse them, is composing
his operatic version of Thomas Mann's Death in Venice. Its protagonist, Aschenbach has elements of Thomas Mann but possibly also
his son-in-law Auden, while Britten identifies with a worshipper of boyish
beauty too.
By the end, both
men's painful loneliness despite great success becomes fully apparent. This
helps to make The Habit of Art a highly thoughtful appreciation of both art and
the people who expose themselves in creating it and ensures that it will resonate
in viewers' minds long after they leave the South Bank.
This is one of
those occasions where it would be unfair to single out one actor from such a
great cast, helped by Nicholas Hytner's ability to
move a potentially complex play smoothly through its phases. He skilfully takes
us from comedy to human interest and artistic homage culminating in a somewhat
gratuitous but welcome final tribute from the playwright to the theatre that
has inspired so many of his finest days.
Tickets have been
selling like hot cakes and unless they might be offended by the gay theme or
fazed by artistic types reminiscing, readers are urged to plunge in as soon as
the new booking season opens as it will not stay open for long. Failing that,
they may have to await the national tour next autumn to catch a play that may
not be The History Boys re-run but is still one of the best new dramas of the
year.
Reviewed
by Philip Fisher for Theatreworld Internet Magazine
AN INSPECTOR CALLS
by J.B.Priestley
Reviewed at
the Novello Theatre – now playing at Wyndham’s Theatre
It is a delight to report that
almost two decades on from Stephen Daldry's original
production at the National Theatre, his version of J.B.Priestley's
1945 classic is still as close to perfect as ever.
Watching it again after eight years,
Daldry's vision seems even more impressive with its
Chekhovian overtones of an affluent society on the brink of collapse and its
inherent response to the underlying ethos of Thatcherism's rejection of society
and by extension responsibility.
At a simpler level, it is a cracking
mystery play that repeatedly toys with viewers until its highly satisfactory
ending with the wealthy Birling family brought to
account for their individual misdemeanours.
The combination of Ian
McNeill’s Hopper-like set featuring a miniaturised house that feels
symbolically close to disaster from the start with stormy weather and the lower
classes at the gates, Rick Fisher's eerie lighting and Stephen Warbeck's
alternately stirring and chilling music takes some beating. However, the
ambience would be nothing without a superb play well performed.
The central figure of Inspector
Goole (Ghoul?) has been here before in the person of Nicholas Woodeson who enjoyed the role in the West End and on
Broadway fifteen years ago. The actor may not quite match the unforgettable
Alastair Sim on film but he gets the balance of
nonchalance and menace just right as the unsettling Inspector cajoles and
interrogates the family of David Roper's Arthur Birling,
a financier and local bigwig.
The unsuspecting group are
obliviously celebrating a diplomatic marriage worthy of royal houses, let alone
Yorkshire's industrial finest.
Then, An Inspector Calls and not
only are their lives changed forever but so it is suggested is society, which
with a setting in 1912 is inevitable.
First, following the death of a
young woman, the old man is in the spotlight. Birling
is upbraided for his selfish arrogance but soon enough, his haughty wife,
Sandra Duncan doing an Edith Evans Lady Bracknell impression, their wayward son
and son-in-law and even decent daughter Sheila all have to face the music.
Indeed, though Gerald, the young
intended of Sheila is proclaimed as the most honest of the group, it is
Marianne Oldham as the caring and genuinely contrite daughter who comes out
best, the actress really excelling in a strong cast.
By the end of an emotional
roller-coaster, one can't help but feel emotionally ragged but it is well worth
it. If there is a criticism, it might be that Associate Director Julian Webber,
who has presumably taken responsibility for rehearsing this cast, makes them a
little too deliberate and stagey.
That is not really a great concern
in a glorious 1¾ hours that cannot be bettered on the London stage at
the moment, though Enron is a close contender. This run may be short but cannot
be recommended strongly enough.
Reviewed
by Philip Fisher for Theatreworld Internet Magazine
DREAMBOATS
AND PETTICOATS
Now
playing a the Playhouse Theatre
It’s 1961 and
everyone’s caught the rock’n’roll
bug. A hit song can bring fame and fortune and the chance to score with the
opposite sex. Nothing new there, then. And, indeed,
there is nothing new in this hit-packed compilation musical featuring around
three dozen classic toe-tapping favourites from Del Shannon, Bobby Darin, Roy
Orbison, The Platters, Dion and the Belmonts, Neil
Sedaka, The Crystals, Chubby Checker and The Shadows to name but a few.
The simple premise of
this unsophisticated show revolves around the rivalries of a group of youth
club kids keen to win a song-writing competition that will bring them the
aforesaid fame and fortune.
Setting it in an Essex
youth club is a clever ploy that enables producer Bill Kenwright to keep the
costs down – poster-covered walls, a few sticks of furniture, a ping pong
table and some dodgems for the club’s seaside outing: you get the
picture.
Bobby (played by a
21-year-old X Factor contestant, Scott Bruton)
auditions for a local rock band beating ‘some singer with big lips from
Dartford’ but losing out to a cocky looker
called Norman (the abs-tastic Ben Freeman). Mousey
Laura (West End debutante Daisy Wood-Davis) sings up a storm, writes music and
faithfully follows Bobby around hoping to catch his eye, inevitably losing out
to one of the more forward girls in the group, ‘good time’ Sue (played
by Jennifer Biddall, Hollyoaks’
Jessica Harris).
But, unlike Laura, Sue
can’t cut it in the song stakes - everyone agrees that Laura gives great
middle eight: her collaboration with Bobby eventually wins him over and jointly
wins them the national song competition.
As a home-grown
musical of the ‘Summer Holiday’ variety it works well enough with a
lively young cast and well-played hit songs for every occasion, including the
eponymous Dreamboats and Petticoats, co-written by Jason Donovan. It is, unfortunately,
the least successful of any of the songs in the show and simply doesn’t
stand a chance in comparison against such solid classics as Shakin’
all over, Runaway, Do you wanna dance, Teenager in
Love and Great Pretender. Which is a great pity because, as
Bobby and Laura’s ‘winning’ song, it has to close the show.
Although somewhat of a limp anti-climax, it is quickly redeemed by the
obligatory final mega mix of Let’s twist again,
C’mon Everybody and At the hop.
The show scores more
highly than it perhaps should, largely thanks to the writing skills of
experienced TV sitcom hands Laurence Marks and Maurice Gran. The slender story
has the ring of truth about it - in no small measure because they draw upon
their own shared personal experiences to create a nostalgic evening that will
certainly touch a nerve with audiences of a certain age and give their kids a
peek into an altogether more innocent age.
Reviewed by Clive
Burton for Theatreworld Internet Magazine
Times: Mon-Fri 7.30pm, Sat
8pm, mats Thu 3pm, Sat 4pm
Prices:
£25-£50
Phone:08701648787
Website: www.ambassadortickets.com/Savoy-Theatre/Information
SISTER ACT
Now playing at the
London Palladium
Performance times:
7.30pm Mondays to Saturdays, with 3.00pm matinees on Wednesdays and
Saturdays.
Tickets: from
£17.50-£60.00 available from the London Palladium Box Office on 0844 412 2704 and online at www.sisteractthemusical.com.
When two jazz
musicians were caught by mobsters witnessing a brutal gangland execution in Some Like It Hot, how
better to escape a similar fate than by dragging up to join an all-girl band
and fleeing to Florida? An equally
bold transformation is required in Sister Act, where - catching her gangster
boyfriend in a comparable situation - raunchy on-the-run disco diva Deloris Van
Cartier is forced by a Police Protection squad to seek sanctuary in a convent
until the perpetrator is caught.
Our heroine adapts
valiantly to cloistered life, quickly making her mark by taking over the
reticent choir and honing it to such an extent that the Sisters attract a visit
from the Pope and wow him (and us) with a disco finale that guarantees a
standing ovation from the Holy Father himself.
Along the way we meet
an enjoyable array of (albeit) fairly stock characters in a neat book by
“Cheers” writers Cheri and Bill Steinkellner
that brings the simple story to life and has some very
smart one liners - especially for Sheila Hancock’s droll Mother Superior
- in a not-always-convincing and somewhat episodic plot.
The successful film
original plundered a generation of disco hits for its soundtrack and although a
new score has been created by Alan Menken (whose writing success goes back to
the 60s’ hit Little Shop of Horrors) some of the show’s musical
numbers appear to be primarily included to garner applause - which, to be fair,
they do.
Apart from the rousing
disco anthem of the reprised title number, some of the songs are little
more than serviceable, often hinting nostalgically at Menken’s own
considerable back-catalogue. Nevertheless, they whip the show along and are
blessed with heavenly lyrics (by Glen Slater) that are a joy to hear,
especially in such sly parody numbers as Lady in the Long Black Dress (for the
mobster’s henchmen) or ‘Sweaty’ Eddie’s fantasising
about being Deloris’s lover in I Could be that Guy.
Eddie, (Ako Mitchell) is a kind-hearted wuss
of a cop who has had a crush on Deloris since their College days together: he
eventually saves her life by apprehending and shooting her wayward boyfriend,
Shank, who has broken through her cover to confront her in a tense “I am
Spartacus” standoff where each of the nuns puts her own life on the line
in an act of sisterly solidarity.
In the Whoopi Goldberg
role, American newcomer Patina Miller is unquestionably star material. She
sings her heart out and is a 24-carat talent, whether sparring with the Mother
Superior, standing up to her bullying boyfriend, belting out her spunky solos,
sharing dreams of stardom with her
backing singers or urging her recalcitrant fellow ‘sisters’ to find
their collective voice.
Among a large
contingent of nuns, she receives particularly ebullient support from Claire
Greenway as a portly Beryl Cook-ish Sister Mary
Patrick, and a rapping nun, Sister Mary Lazarus (Julia Sutton), whose rabble-rousing vocalising could raise the dead.
The set is one of the
busiest in the West End, rising and falling, whirling and dipping to provide
constantly-changing backgrounds to accompany the well-directed action (Peter
Schneider) and choreography (Anthony Van Laast). So,
while not exactly a godsend, Sister Act should perform minor miracles at the
Palladium’s Box Office for some time to come.
Reviewed by Clive Burton for Theatreworld Internet
Magazine
WAR HORSE
Based on Michael Morpurgoe’s novel, adapted by Nick Stafford
Now playing
at The New London Theatre, Drury Lane
'A
powerfully-touching universal experience'
As the surviving combatants
of WWI return to England to rebuild their shattered lives in a home fit for
heroes, an ungrateful government callously sells off the horses
that had served and suffered alongside them - many eventually ending
up in the Middle East or on dinner tables in France and Belgium.
In 'War Horse', we witness life and death on the
front-line through the eyes and emotions of Joey, a farm horse from Devon and
his young master, Albert, an under-age soldier who enlisted in the hope
of being re-united with his beloved charge in war-torn Europe.
Like his human counterparts, Joey did the bidding of his
masters without question but, unlike the million other horses that died in
combat, Joey was one of a small number of survivors. ‘War Horse’ is
his story.
What is remarkable
about Joey is that he is a puppet of quite extraordinary verisimilitude, three
operators being required to manipulate every aspect of his stylised
larger-than-life-size anatomy. He and the other horses do the everyday things
that every horse does - snort, twitch, breathe, whinny, react to the
environment around them and bond with each other - with such complete
naturalness that it soon becomes possible to believe that they are
‘real’ thanks to the unparalleled skill of their manipulators.
These remarkable artists not only animate Joey’s head,
heart and hindquarters from foal to the magnificent full-grown creature
he eventually becomes, they also imbue him with a soul and manage to
become as one with the truly remarkable creations at the heart of this piece,
conceived and executed by Handspring Puppet Company as a collaborative venture
with the National Theatre.
‘War Horse’ is based on a novel by Michael Morpurgo (adapted by Nick Stafford) who found the key to
his story of the WWI horses in the reminiscences of a war veteran whom he met
in the Devon village where the action begins on a carefree pre-war
summer’s day with swallows swooping over the placid pre-war fields of
rural England.
Caught in the emotional crossfire between a strong-minded reconciliatory
mother and a feckless, dipsomaniac father, young Albert (an empathetic Kit
Harington) channels his repressed passions into nurturing and protecting Joey:
the trust between the two blossoms when Joey is subjugated beneath a
harness that will briefly turn this proud animal into a shire horse and
thus win the bet that will enable him to remain with Albert.
As war arrives, Albert’s father sells the horse to the
Army as an Officer’s mount and Joey is summarily shipped to the
front where his willing submission to the harness eventually saves his life.
The vast acreage of the New London’s open stage adds
considerably to the scenes of carnage that largely constitute the second half,
literally drawing the audience into the heart of the action as Rae
Smith’s animated monochrome sketches in which elements of the
action mirror or augment the on-stage action are projected onto a giant
strip of ragged blank paper arcing over the back of the acting
area: at one particularly sombre point they are temporarily obliterated
by a relentlessly suppurating blood-red tide.
Gun carriages rumble past pulled by ghostly platoons of
emaciated horses, officers and men ride recklessly into un-winnable
battles where the once-invincible power of the horse is now
a vulnerably-dispensable anachronism against the indiscriminate slaying power
of the machine gun or the ubiquitous, eviscerating barbed wire which maims man
and beast alike.
In War Horse, we experience all this and
more: the camaraderie of men (many, like the under-age Albert, hardly more than
boys themselves) led by shockingly young Officers, the fear and the bravery
and the blind love for King and country that is all
but unfathomable these days.
A tribute to the National’s ability
to mount such a boldly epic piece, this engrossing transfer is directed in
exemplary fashion by Marianne Elliott and Tom Morris. That our lives have been
so signally enriched by such a powerfully-touching universal experience is
a tribute to all concerned.
Reviewed by Clive Burton for Theatreworld Internet Magazine
Performance
times
Monday – Saturday evenings 7.30pm
Thursday and Saturday matinees 2.30pm
Ticket prices
Monday - Thursday £15, £25, £35, £45
Friday, Saturday matinee and evening
£15, £25, £37.50, £47.50
Under-18yrs discount: £10 off top two prices,
Monday - Thursday.
PRISCILLA, QUEEN OF THE DESERT – THE MUSICAL
Now playing at The Palace Theatre
' gay Oz on a stick '
Thanks to the classic
movie, Priscilla, Queen of the Desert, everyone knows the story of the three
Australian drag queens on a bus journey across Oz in search of the men behind
the make-up: the bi-sexual Mitzi, briefly re-uniting with his estranged wife
and their young son, the restless young queen (Felicia) with the world at his
feet and the ageing, recently-widowed, trans-sexual Bernadette (the Terence
Stamp role) tentatively seizing her last chance for love.
The combined skills of
the joint book writers, Stephan Elliott and Allan Scott (who also co-produces)
brilliantly embroider the original story into a full-blown stage musical and,
where some situations have been condensed, it is only to make room for what
this fabulous juke box show does best: song, dance and sumptuous spectacle on
an unprecedentedly lavish scale.
The show’s
direction (Simon Phillips), design, wigs and choreography are beyond praise and
a phenomenally catchy score whips the large ensemble into a glorious frenzy of
song and dance to produce an essence of gay Oz on a stick.
By the time the show
ends you have enjoyed an evening of unalloyed bliss in the company of the
eponymous Priscilla, the charabanc par excellence that carries the boys on
their trans-continental adventures while remaining resolutely the centre of
attention throughout, thanks to the brilliant use of graphics and state-of-the-art
technology (bus concept and production design by Brian Thomson).
The film version
worked so perfectly because the trio of drag queens at its brittle heart were
such believable characters and, on stage, that same testy triumvirate should
make Priscilla, the musical, practically perfect. But it isn’t (quite) -
at least, not yet.
For some elusive
reason, there is little tangible chemistry between the three star leads. Yes,
Oliver Thornton has the looks and legs to make the most of Adam (Felicia) and
can mince and whine with the best of them. And, yes, we can accept that behind
Tony Sheldon’s occasionally diffident facade lies a woman who once had
(quite literally) balls of steel. Curiously, then, it is Jason Donovan’s
resolutely heterosexual creation of the flamboyant Mitzi that
ultimately fails to take flight. Despite his fetching drag alter ego, several
strong songs, a touching scene with his young son and a clutch of wicked Kylie
jokes - including one at the expense of his own former Neighbours’
persona, Scott - his performance remains grudgingly, rather than gloriously,
gay.
The madcap invention
of the sumptuous costumes (Tim Chappel and Lizzy Gardiner) knows no such bounds and they are so
breathtakingly OTT that it seems they cannot possibly be trumped (but, of
course, they invariably can): at one point, dancing paintbrush crinolines
remove the obscenities on Priscilla’s flanks, while a retinue of
illuminated cup cakes accompanies a later rendition of MacArthur Park that
finally makes sense of the song’s obtuse lyrics.
Each of the familiar
songs (many to a pounding disco beat) more than earns its keep - from the touching standard
‘A Fine Romance’ (when Bernadette recalls her heyday as one of the
Les Girls drag troupe and acknowledges that she may be falling in love with
Clive Carter’s bluff Bob) to the lyp-syncing
extravaganza that is ‘Colour My World’. Not to mention the stunning
contributions made by the muscular male ensemble (in or out of drag), three
flying Divas (Zoe Birkett, Kate Gillespie and Emma Lindars) and a roof-raising rendition of ‘Sempre Libera’ that brings
the house down. Musical theatre doesn’t get any better than this and, if
you are looking for a world-class, life-enhancing show to lift your spirits in
these uncertain times, ‘PRISCILLA’ has
got to be the one.
Reviewed by Clive
Burton for Theatreworld Internet Magazine
Palace Theatre, Cambridge Circus, London W1
Performances:
Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday at 7.30pm
Fridays
at 5.15pm (from 8 May) & 8.30pm
Saturdays at 2.30pm & 7.30pm
Box Office: 0844
755 0016
Website:
priscillathemusical.com
Ticket prices: Monday to Thursday &
Friday at 5.15pm
£60.75, £40.75, £25.75, £20.75
Fridays at 8.30pm & Saturdays at 2.30pm & 7.30pm
£65.75, £45.75, £25.75, £20.75
“OLIVER!”
by Lionel Bart
Now playing at the Theatre Royal Drury Lane
Lionel Bart’s musical (premiered in London
in 1960) and this production of Oliver!, based on
Charles Dickens’ novel comes under the heading of a really, really good
night out. It’s a terrific show; not one of the top 5 musicals of all
time, but a very good example of the genre. This Sam Mendes production,
directed by the new Sam Mendes, the very talented Rupert Goold,
is full of star turns, great talent, and, most importantly of all, a world star
in Rowan Atkinson.
I had forgotten what a huge international
personality Mr. Bean had made of Rowan Atkinson until I sat down and found
myself surrounded by people speaking every language under the sun except
English. They are there to see Atkinson, and some to take photos of him as he
performs as well. The ushers patrol the aisles like the Gestapo trying to spot
the culprits. But never mind, everyone is having such a good time, a wave of
joy suffuses the audience.
There
is not a dud performance in the evening. The orchestra, under the direction of Graham Hurman, is very good, neither under powered nor over
powered. Whoever is in charge of the mike-ing
of the singing has got the sound just right. The voices all sound
completely natural without that objectionable tinny sound that often defeats
the purpose of the amplification.
Goold has done a fabulous job with all the
children. There are three different lots of them, and that is a lot of
children to direct. Likewise, there are 3 Artful Dodgers and 3 Olivers. On the night I was in, the Dodger was played by
the most unbelievably talented 10 year-old I have ever seen on a stage. There
was nothing he couldn’t do. Mickey Rooney reborn, except there is
no vaudeville any more, so I doubt Eric Dibb-Fuller was born in a trunk and treading the boards by
the time he could walk. Dibb-Fuller is a terrific
show-off performer, which is exactly what the role requires. Oliver, a
reticent, shy character was ably played by Laurence Jeffcoate,
a boy soprano with a lovely voice. His renditions of “Where is
love” and “Who will buy this wonderful morning” were very
beautiful.
Atkinson’s entrance is well timed. It happens about half an hour into the show, after a lot of
good material has warmed up the audience. Oliver has run away from
the workhouse, “Food, glorious food”, been recaptured by Mr.
Bumble, Julius D’Silva, “Boy for
Sale”, been sold to Mr. Sowerberry, Julian
Bleach, “That’s your funeral, and met the Dodger, “Consider
yourself at home”. Then, in Fagin’s den, out from behind a
curtain, slithers Atkinson, like a demented python, all legs and long fingers
to warm applause from an audience packed with his fans who have come not so
much to watch Lionel Bart’s seminal musical but to see him.
I was fascinated to see what he did with Fagin
because of the American history of the role. When Ron Moody played it
originally, he did what Bart, an East End Jewish prodigy, had written, and sung
in Yiddish cadences to what sounds like Klezmer
music, exaggerating hilariously Fagin’s Jewish-ness.
When the show went to New York, the Anti Defamation League of B’Nai Brith decided this
was blatant Anti-Semitism. The result was Fagin was played straight, no
accent, no gestures, no nothing, which made no sense
at all. It didn’t seem to occur to the Anti-Defamation people that Mr.
Bumble and the monster Bill Sikes were infinitely more evil that loveable
Fagin, whose thieves’ den was, in fact, a loving home to countless
destitute street urchins who picked a pocket or two to keep them all alive.
Atkinson is indeed loveable in the role. He can sing well enough, and his
comic skills take the audience anywhere he wants them to go.
The great surprise of the evening is the Musical
Talent Search winner, Jodie Prenger, as Nancy.
Not being a fan of these programmes, I feared the worst at the idea of a talent
show winner starring in the West End. Has it all come to this? Fear
not. When you read her credits, she has a lot of training and a good career
behind her. She is 100% professional, has a good voice, clearly has the
stamina for a starring role, and deserved to be discovered and turned into a
star. The excellent Burn Gorman has the perfect misfit, psychopath’s face
to play Bill Sikes.
Anthony Ward has reproduced 19th
century London for us with all the atmosphere and poverty. The set for Oliver
has always been complicated, relying on hydraulics and moveable
platforms. The original was a watershed in set design. Ward’s works
superbly and his costumes are splendid and bringing George Cruikshank’s
original illustrations for Dickens to life. The choreographer is the much
awarded Matthew Bourne whose successes include Mary Poppins, My Fair Lady,
South Pacific and the groundbreaking male Swan Lake.
Oliver! is packed with
great songs, most of which are very familiar to the audience. How can you go
wrong? This production has gone very right? As I said at the
beginning, for a really, really good night out, this is the show for you.
Don’t miss it.
www.theatreroyaldrurylane.co.uk
Reviewed by Judith M. Steiner for Theatreworld
Internet Magazine
JERSEY BOYS
Book by Marshall Brickman and Rick Elise
Music by Bob Gaudio and lyrics by Bob
Crewe
Now playing at the Prince Edward Theatre
I
approached Jersey Boys with some misgivings - yet another musical tribute and a
nostalgia trip for the fans - but the writers are adamant that they have not
written a musical, they have written a play about four guys who wrote music.
The result is a fascinating tale of "revenge and betrayal and crime and
punishment and family and women" and tells the truth about what went on
behind the squeaky clean image that Frankie Valli and
the Four Seasons presented to the public.
Truth
is hard to define, with every character giving their version of how they
remembered it, and the writers had the resourceful idea of giving the narration
to each one in turn throughout the show, but aside from that they also had the
difficult (and dangerous) problem of presenting the whole truth while being
careful to avoid upsetting any of the Mafia who were keeping a watchful eye on
proceedings. They must not be 'disrespectful' to any of the bosses - warnings
were issued - and here Gyp DeCarlo (Stuart Milligan)
appears as an emotional avuncular figure sentimental about his mother (probably
true) and with the boys' welfare at heart (possibly not!)
The
curtain rises and we are blasted with sound, light and colour "Oh, What a
Night" (a bit heavy on the base boys), and constant frenetic movement which
continues almost throughout the show, with the more or less obligatory set of
steel scaffolding, spiral staircase and raised walkway, giving the performers
an extra challenge as they are frequently up, down and along while singing and
playing. The breath control and energy necessary is awe-inspiring, not to
mention the exceptional quality of the acting and singing!
The
story begins with the swaggering bravado of Glenn Carter as guitarist Tommy DeVito, a man who had been imprisoned for criminal offences,
but sees himself as one who "takes raw clay and makes like Michael
Angelo" - the raw clay in this case being a scrawny kid called Frankie Castelluccio. Not a name which trips easily off the tongue,
so he becomes Frankie Valli. "With friends like
yours" he is told, "maybe you should change your name to
Sinatra", and Ryan Molloy does have a slight resemblance to another Jersey
Boy who made the big time.
With
bassist Nick Massi (Philip Bulcock)
they began their musical journey in the fifties, were later joined by young
musical genius Bob Gaudio (Stephen Ashfield), and in
1962 had their first big hit "Sherry", closely followed by "Big
Girls Don't Cry" and "Walk Like a Man".
Their music was for the people - ordinary people with ordinary lives - and
Crewe's lyrics appealed to them. "My Eyes Adored You" was sung with
deep feeling after Valli's marriage fell apart, and
"Can't take my Eyes off You" brought spontaneous applause and
cheering. I was surprised to discover how very many songs were so familiar.
After
many trial names for their group they finally settle on The Four Seasons - a
name not inspired by Vivaldi (Who?) but by the bowling alley where they were
playing at the time, and it is here that a legend is born.
In
New Jersey nobody locks their doors - there is honour among thieves - and the
honour extends to Valli loyally insisting the group
must pay Devito's astronomical gambling debts, and to
a contract sealed with a handshake lasting over forty years.
The
show concludes with a "Where are they now?" scenario. Valli, in his seventies, is still performing, Crewe (here
played by an effete Simon Adkins), still writing the lyrics, and Gaudio still writing the music. DeVito,
by an ironic twist of fate, is in Las Vegas working for Joe Pesci,
the kid he used to knock around back in New Jersey and expertly portrayed with
a cheeky charm by Jye Frasca.
Massi, however, died in 2000 on Christmas
Eve….. "For a Catholic, is that style or what!"
With
the original creative team from the hit show in New York, and an extremely
talented British cast (Molloy re-creates Valli's
soaring falsetto perfectly), this is a show that should go on and on - like the
originals. Judging from the enthusiastic reception - standing ovation and an
audience who didn't want to leave - it probably will. "Oh What a
Night!" says it all.
Reviewed by Sheila Connor for Theatreworld Internet Magazine
Paul
Nicholas and David Ian
by arrangement with
Robert Stigwood present
"GREASE"
is the word
Now playing at the Piccadilly Theatre
Over acted, over amplified and over here
If 'Grease'
is to satisfy, it needs a 'perfect couple' at its heart. And,
in the words of David Ian the show's producer, Danny and Sandy are that perfect
couple.
But, on
stage, this TV-cast revival not only lacks a heart, the dream couple trying to
fill the vacuum are signally mis-matched (despite
being voted into their roles by a panel of 'celebrity' judges including David Gest - with his own recent track record, surely the
least-qualified man on the planet to choose the 'perfect couple'? - Sinitta, Brian Friedman and David Ian himself.
The recent
searches for 'Joseph' and 'Maria' showed how a TV format can come good with
West End casting, so who knows what happened on this occasion?
With so many
of the viewers who voted now claiming 'ownership' of the project (as Mr Ian's
marketing-speak puts it in a self-congratulatory programme note) Grease should
guarantee bums on seats at The Piccadilly for months to come: what a shame that
so many will belong to first-time theatregoers who will leave the show under
the impression that 'live' musical theatre is all about over-acting,
under-casting, cheap sets and a ferociously over-amplified on-stage band.
The couple
that most of the audience are 'Hopelessly Devoted' to are Danny Bayne (as Danny
Zuko) and Susan McFadden (as Sandy Dumbrowski) - despite there not being any discernable spark
between them during the whole evening, let alone in the uncomfortably 'stagey'
final number where they never manage to convince us that they were right for
each other all along.
They both
sing and dance as if their lives depend on it, while surrounded by other
energetic, noisy, hyper-active kids whose annoying over-use of the rebellious
'finger' gesture and interminable pelvis-grinding quickly grate and, while it
would be invidious to single out any particular cast member as an example of
the show's universally-broad playing style (direction is by David Gilmore) a
strong contender must be Tim Newman's nerdy Eugene. His relentless mugging
would have earned him an ASBO anywhere other than in a theatre and he even
managed to pip at the post three (very) camp followers doing a tacky turn as
backing singers in a shower scene that had me longing for a Psycho moment.
The dynamic
musical staging and choreography is by West End veteran Arlene Phillips, who
has galvanised her manic dancers into action with an eclectic variety of styles
ranging from West Side story 'dance in the gym' to a retro, sub-Busby Berkeley
routine for 'Beauty School Dropout.'
Grease may
be the word, but it's not the word that comes most readily to mind to describe
this tawdry production whose success is assured thanks to healthy advance box
office sales by the TV viewers who voted for the 'stars' they helped to create:
they loved every ear-splitting minute.
www.greasethemusical.co.uk
Reviewed
by Clive Burton for Theatreworld Internet Magazine
"Dirty Dancing"
by Eleanor Bergstein
Now playing at the Aldwych
Theatre
There
have been two important measures of Dirty Dancing's sensational success in the week
of its opening. First, the morning news on Radio 4 has told the nation that
this show has had the biggest advance sales ever seen in the West End.
Secondly, to prove the point, our old friend the ticket tout
has made a reappearance on Aldwych, doing uncanny impression of George Cole in
the St Trinian's movies.
In
dramatic terms, Eleanor Bergstein's book and dialogue require the suspension of
an awful lot of disbelief. One suspects that the story is semi-autobiographical
but the schmaltzy romance of an innocent seventeen-year-old's
coming-of-age has the intellectual depth of an underdeveloped fairy tale.
At
times, one also wonders whether the writer has been challenged to create
dialogue that is entirely formulated from clichés.
However,
this is not what this show is about. Dirty Dancing is really about sex
presented with a romantic veneer through the paradigm of dance; and at its
best, that is where this production excels.
On
the basis that it will give fans exactly what they want, it is destined for a
long and happy stay in the West End and an incarnation on Broadway must be a
racing certainty.
Like
the National's latest sensation, Caroline, or Change, Dirty Dancing is set in
1963 as the Civil Rights Movement begins to excite American youth. The exploration
may be tame here but at least sweet, seventeen-year-old Baby is a naive
idealist who hates the see people downtrodden.
Georgina
Rich once again proves herself to be a talented actress building on the
reputation that she created with her performance in Honour playing Dame Diana Rigg's daughter.
Baby
joins her family in the land of Hi De Hi at an American equivalent to Butlin's in the Catskills. Fascinating Aida's Issy van Randwyck is mum, while
all-American Doctor dad is played by David Rintoul. He is perfectly cast, having spent so long as
Doctor Finlay that he could probably carry out an operation in real life. He
also turns his hand pretty capably to song (especially in a nice duet with his
wife) and dance, as well as flexing acting muscles honed at the RSC.
We
also have the misfortune to come across Baby's boringly vain older sister Lisa
played by Isabella Calthorpe, who presumably under
the instructions of her director James Powell, mugs madly throughout, either to
the amusement or intense irritation of viewers.
The
plot contrasts rich Robbie, to be honest a rather gay looking waiter who thinks
nothing of "knocking up" the odd girl or two, with the incredibly
muscular dance teacher Johnny Castle. The latter is played by Josef Brown, a
man who was once a principal with the Australian ballet and dances brilliantly
but whose acting talents, showing all of the emotional range of Arnold
Schwarzenegger on a bad day, look wooden next to his female lead.
The
show takes a bit of time to get going but really takes off when Johnny and his
normal dancing partner, Penny "the blonde with the legs" played by
the lithely brilliant Nadia Coote, strut their stuff
to Eric Carmen's Hungry Eyes. This is a Meatloaf-style power ballad that the
unkind would suggest comes from a much later era. From that point onwards, Kate
Champion's choreography and her well-drilled crew provide a feast for the eyes.
Penny's
unwanted pregnancy causes all kinds of problems but it does throw Baby into the
massive arms of Johnny, with the aid of a legendary watermelon. After lots of
loving and a little dancing, the heroine is eventually enabled to shuck off her
childish nickname and become a real woman, Frances.
The
show builds to a tremendous finale, first as Johnny at his sexiest dressed in
black and a biker's leathers announces to general glee that "nobody puts
Baby in the corner" and then drags her on to the dance floor to lead the
night's big number (I've Had) The Time Of My Life sung live by Shonagh Daly and Ben Mingay.
By
the time that the team of dancers move into this best routine of the evening,
the weaknesses have ceased to matter. The audience is going absolutely wild and
has returned to those innocent days of youth that have marked Dirty Dancing as
a formative part of their lives and Patrick Swayze as a superhero.
This
may not be as good as the original but it has enough life, allusion and well
choreographed dance routines performed by beautiful people to guarantee that
the nostalgic will keep the touts in business for years.
Reviewed by Philip Fisher for Theatreworld Internet Magazine
"THE 39 STEPS"
by John Buchan, adapted by Patrick
Barlow
Now playing at the Criterion
Theatre
These
days, as Scotland launches its National Theatre (and a very fine one too), it
is easy to forget that territories even more serious about their culture got
there long ago.
A
quarter of a century ahead of the Scots, The National Theatre of Brent was
unveiled when the inimitable, irrepressible Desmond Olivier Dingle (or Patrick
Barlow) proudly launched his company with The Charge of the Light Brigade and
soon after, the Charge of the Jim Broadbent.
The
NToB title may not be there for this adaptation of
John Buchan's stirring novel of spying and double crossing but the spirit and
ethos are present, thanks to its founder, who has adapted John Buchan's tale of
an ordinary chap saving his country from disaster.
The
recipe has remained the same. Take a famous story and milk it for every gag in
sight. This relies on a talented cast, in this case an ensemble of four, each
of whom plays their part capably, their timing honed by actress turned director
Maria Aitken.
Charles
Edwards is hapless hero Richard Hannay, stiff upper
lip topped by a pencil moustache and suavity oozing from every pore.
He
is pitted against a presumably Nazi professor after picking up a dark lady with
a terrible accent at the Palladium. She tells him of The 39 Steps but before
she can do more than set him off on a dangerous chase, she reappears groaning
with a dagger in her back.
She,
like reluctant heroine Pamela and several other glamorous ladies is played by
film star Catherine McCormack, clearly relishing her chance to ham it up on
stage.
One
hundred or so other characters from coppers to train guards, baddies and old ladies
are represented by a versatile pair billed as clowns in the programme. Simon Gregor and Rupert Degas provide energy and talent well
beyond the call of duty.
Patrick
Barlow's adaptation mixes verbal and physical humour and even chucks in a
little shadow puppetry. There are many memorable images such as the famous
chase along the top of a racing train, with Hannay
then jumping onto and then off an entirely convincing Forth Bridge, all
reproduced with minimal budget and props.
Like
the train, the two hours flash by amid quick costume and persona changes, some
trite plotting and corny jokes. The evening is inconsistent but at its best,
very funny and should do well in this small West End house in the run-up to
Christmas.
Reviewed by Philip Fisher for Theatreworld Internet Magazine
'WICKED'
(The untold story of the Witches of Oz)
Music
and Lyrics by Stephen Schwartz
Book
by Winnie Holzman
now playing at the
Apollo Victoria Theatre
BEWITCHED BY A FRIEND OF DOROTHY
Whether you
view Wicked as a charming fairy story or a parable for our own troubled times depends
on your personal 'take' on this prequel to The Wizard of Oz.
Inspired by
a book written by Gregory Maguire some 90 years after the original, this
brilliantly-cast new Broadway show traces the back story of the protagonists in
the original (1939) MGM movie.
In this
latest incarnation it is basically a tale of two college girls attending a
Hogwarts-style Academy presided over by Miriam Margolyes'
bustling, pneumatically-bustled, Madame Morrible (a
disarming cross between the steely gentility of Barbara Cartland
and the appealing vulgarity of Mrs Slocombe).
The girls, Glinda and Elphaba, start out as
rivals and end up bosom buddies, overcoming numerous misunderstandings,
romantic entanglements and personal tragedies along the way until their roles
as good and bad witches are reversed.
Wicked's monolithic Heath
Robinson-style set extends into the auditorium and sandwiches a proscenium
dominated by an animated, winged dragon and a map of Oz which is whisked away
(to excited anticipatory applause) to reveal the skeletal insides of a giant
timepiece.
Yet, despite
its many disparate narrative threads (expertly woven together by Winnie Holzman), the key to the
show - and its obsession with time - may perhaps be found in a line spoken by Elphaba, the wicked, green witch during her eventual
encounter with her nemesis, The Wizard: 'I wanted to put back the clock.'
As Elphaba, Idina Menzel has been imported from Broadway to play the role she
originated. Green, geeky and gauche, she is a be-spectacled outcast from the
outset, rejected by her father and lacking the social and physical graces
needed to succeed in the competitive college environment into which she is
thrust with her crippled younger sister, Nessarose
(affectingly played by Katie Rowley Jones, a fragrant worm who eventually
turns).
Ms Menzel has a gloriously powerful voice which conveys every
nuance of the hurt wariness and self-protectiveness the role initially demands,
before assuming a manic mantle of absolute power to end the first act with a
stunning vocal and visual coup de theatre - one of many in this enchanting
show.
Her complex
story is told in flashback by Glinda the Good, who
arrives on stage on a pendulum surrounded by a cloud of bubbles. Helen Dallimore plays this egocentric airhead with winning charm
and, like the rest of the perfect cast, is given every opportunity to shine by
Director Joe Mantello (including a wonderfully
tongue-in-cheek homage to Evita in the second-act balcony scene).
Glinda quickly finds her
Prince Charming in an equally-vacuous and self-absorbed Fiyero,
whose philosophy of 'dancing through life, skimming the surface' immediately
marks him out as a fellow spirit; the dashing Adam Garcia establishes himself
as a major star in this show, grabbing every opportunity in a role he helped
develop in the 2002 NY workshop of the show.
Wicked has
been tweaked considerably since it garnered mixed Broadway reviews on its
opening: Wayne Cilento's sympathetic musical staging
helps each actor develop a truly individual character through movement, while
the use of standard English - and Scottish - pronunciation (as opposed to
faux-American) is universal by everyone except Ms Menzel
and Nigel Planer (an excellent Presidential-style Wizard).
As neither
Harry Potter nor The Lord of the Rings exerts any personal fascination for me,
I feared that Wicked might exhibit a similar tweeness.
But, while teenage audiences may latch on to Wicked's
obvious tunefulness, the accessibility of its lyrics (both by Stephen Schwartz)
and its appealingly-drawn and extravagantly-costumed, characters (scenic design
by Eugene Lee and costumes by Susan Hilferty), others
will take pleasure in pursuing such deeper elements as the nature of truth and
the place of the thinking individual within a thoughtless, hostile environment.
On the night
I visited, the audience was roof-raisingly vociferous
in its appreciation of this dazzling show and its generous and
universally-talented performers. I only wish that, as the next generation of
theatregoers, they could have enjoyed the frisson of hearing Schwartz's
beautiful and melodic score played by a Broadway-sized pit orchestra with a
full string section and a preponderance of non-synthesised instruments.
The
performance lasts approximately 2 hours and 50 minutes, including a 20 minute
interval.
Reviewed
by Clive Burton for Theatreworld Internet Magazine
AVENUE Q
Music and lyrics by Robert Lopez and Jeff Marx
Book by Jeff Whitty
Directed by Jason Moore
Reviewed at the Noël Coward Theatre (now at the GIELGUD
THEATRE until March 13th then re-opens at Wyndham’s Theatre on
March 19th
'A Canterbury Tales for the Noughties'
By
its own admission, Avenue Q is a musical for people who don't like musicals
(and there can't be many left who fall into that category in either London or
New York these days).
So,
the talented Tony Award winning team of Robert Lopez, Jeff Marx (music and
lyrics) and Jeff Whitty (book) have created a
relentlessly zany puppetfest whose sense of the
zeitgeist should convert a hip, young, new audience to the genre.
Engaging
the emotions every bit as deftly as the singing actors/puppeteers manipulate
their cutesy charges (who include Princeton, an impoverished graduate,
straight-laced, do-gooder Kate, closet gay merchant banker Rod and an
erotically-charged blonde chanteuse simply known as Lucy The Slut, who is so
full-on sexy as to raise the disturbing question as to what extent it may be
possible to be turned on by a marionette) Avenue Q also takes stage nudity and
sex to new heights.
Of
course, we've seen simulated sex on stage before but seldom performed so
uninhibitedly as here - and, surely, never between puppets? (It was probably at
this juncture that the Henson organisation, from whom
the authors had originally sought backing, began to distance themselves - a
process that has now resulted in a full-blown disclaimer in the programme.)
But,
although Avenue Q should be given a distinct 15 rating (Lion King it ain't),
mid-teens and young adults will relish the bawdy nature and catchy songs of
this Canterbury Tales for the Noughties.
Set
among a stereotypical clique of angst-ridden, New York wannabees,
has-beens and might-have-beens, the plot revolves
around finding your 'purpose' in life.
Although
the musical excursions into pornography and racism inspire two of the show's
best numbers, no matter what the 'issue' is, there's a song that fits it as
snugly as the glove puppets cleave to their human alter egos.
The
lyrics are knock-out brilliant: Lopez and Marx have
thrown everything in the book - or, rather, rhyming dictionary - at them to
achieve their impact.
The
tunes are memorable too - at least in the moment - and the young actors are hugely
endearing, each characterising their other halves with such vocal and physical
dexterity that it is sometimes virtually impossible to tell where one ends and
the other begins. The small band rocks and the show looks and sound great.
And,
while the choice of Schadenfreude as a song title is undoubtedly tempting fate,
by the second half of Avenue Q the audience has been led further down the path
of platitudinous personal discovery than some may have felt inclined to go. A fun show? Yes. But perhaps not quite up
everyone's street.
Reviewed by Clive Burton for Theatreworld Internet Magazine
BILLY ELLIOT -The Musical
Book and Lyrics by Lee Hall
Music by Elton John
Now playing at the Victoria Palace
Theatre
Being
possibly the only person in the whole of the British Isles - or even the world
- who was not totally blown away by the film version of Billy Elliot, and
knowing that this show is also directed by STEPHEN DALDRY, I was prepared to
dislike this musical. Also so many films have been adapted for the stage
recently, could yet another one succeed?
Well
- try as I might to find fault - I just loved it - totally captivated from the
beginning when 'The Stars Look Down' and destiny beckons, to the soulful 'Dear
Billy', sung with his dead mother, when Billy sets off down the aisle on his
long journey to the future.
For
one thing I had not expected it to be so funny, and I found myself crying with
laughter through most of the first act. There is a serious side to it, of
course, the story of a young boy from a poor working class family longing to
express himself creatively, a story which coincidentally mirrors the lives of
both Elton John and Lee Hall, a Geordie lad himself, which could explain the
feeling and emotion in both the exceptional lyrics and the music - best that
Elton has ever written in my humble opinion.
TIM
HEALY is 'Dad', a rough and ready, down to earth (or even down in the earth)
miner, and the time is the mid eighties - the time of the miners' strike when
there was the threat of pit closures and they would all be out of work - so he
has quite enough on his plate without a son wanting to be a poncey
ballet dancer, but he too has a soul - and a surprisingly strong and good
singing voice - with a sentimental side which brings tears when he and son
Billy sing of his dead wife. HAYDN GWYNNE is magnificent as a disillusioned
dance teacher at last finding an exceptional talent to encourage, and her
troupe of ballet girls were really great little dancers, a fact which they
disguised well.
ANN
EMERY is a delightfully comical 'grandma' who may be suffering from senile
dementia, but remembers her dead husband well in the song which begins 'I hated
the sod for thirty three year' - not the sentiments expected. Be warned - there
is swearing throughout - not always in anger but part of general conversation.
(There is a translation of the Geordie in the programme, if needed)
PETER
DARLING's choreography is outstanding is every scene - the line of riot
policemen had their own comic routine, even chubby dance pianist STEVE ELIAS
strutted his funky stuff, and there is a delightfully humorous dance with Billy
and his gay friend Michael (RYAN LONGBOTTOM - showing terrific comic potential)
both in drag.
Sets
and sound complimented each other perfectly particularly in the scene where
Billy shows his frustration in a frenzied and athletic clog dance which wrecks
his bedroom, while the sound of rioting is heard from outside.
It
took two years to find the ideal Billy and the long search paid off - on the
night I attended this was LIAM MOWER, and this 12 year old was absolute
perfection and thoroughly deserved the ecstatic standing ovation that he
received - twice! An extremely versatile dancer, actor, singer, gymnast and
very likeable - I am astounded that anyone so young could not only be so
talented, but had the strength and stamina to carry such a demanding role. The
ballet scene where he danced with ISAAC JAMES as his 'older self' to the music
of Swan Lake was incredibly beautiful.
This is a musical by which all
others will now be judged!
Reviewed by Sheila Connor for Theatreworld Internet Magazine
Les Misérables
based on the book by Victor Hugo, produced
by Cameron Mackintosh
Music composed by
Claude-Michel Schonberg
Original concept and
French lyrics by Alain Boublil
Lyrics by Herbert Kretzmer
Production design by
John Napier
Reviewed
at Palace Theatre - cast changes will apply
An
impressive 17 years after its opening in October 1985, Cameron Mackintosh's
production of Victor Hugo's epic masterpiece 'Les Misérables'
is still running like a Duracell long-life battery at the Palace Theatre
a familiar London landmark on Cambridge Circus.
The piece
follows the engaging plight of Jean Valjean,
imprisoned for stealing a loaf of bread for his sister's child. When finally released
after 19 soul-destroying years, he is relentlessly pursued by his nemesis, the
unforgiving Inspector Javert. While
Valjean initially seems irreversibly embittered by
his experiences in prison and headed for a life of ongoing crime and
punishment, a moment of kindness towards him shortly after his release inspires
him to aim towards better things. As he reinvents himself, we follow his
progress, from the French provinces to the backstreets, barricades and dank
sewers of still-revolting mid-19th century Paris. Hugo's consideration of
universal themes including the hypocrisy of society, tolerance, courage,
religion and love add gravity along the way.
The
production looks undeniably spectacular, with no-frills but highly effective
sets by John Napier (his revolving, outsized, industrial-style barricades are
especially good), and wonderfully evocative lighting by David Hersey. The cast,
which has been given a revamp, is huge, and it would be impossible to note
everyone here. Of the leads, however, several stand out: Valjean
is played with gentle authority by Michael Sterling; Hadley Fraser is well
suited to the young romantic lead of Marius (his West End debut), thanks to his
handsome looks and sweet voice; and Sophia Ragavelas,
who for me was the best singer in the cast, makes an attractive Eponine feisty yet sympathetic. Jerome Pradon is good as the duty-bound tough guy, Javert. An injection of naughty humour is given by the
rough-living Thénardiers, played in this
production by a charismatic Stephen Tate and Rosemary Ashe - listen out for
their lively version of 'Master of the House'.
With the
above excepted, I was on the whole quite disappointed with the quality of
singing, with some characters unfortunately being fairly inaudible or even out
of tune. This was counterbalanced by the orchestra, however, who played
wonderfully throughout - no small achievement for this 3-hour-long show.
This musical
has been seen by over 50 million people worldwide so far, and there are plenty
of positive aspects in this new production for the show to seem likely to run
and run. One would hope that Victor Hugo, in the 200th anniversary of his birth
this year, would be proud; musicals fans - the small number who haven't already
seen this show, will, I'm sure, not be disappointed.
Reviewed
by Clare Peel for Theatreworld Internet Magazine
Glen Henderson and Yes/No Productions present:
STOMP
Reviewed at The Vaudeville Theatre
playing at Ambassador's Theatre (from 27/09/07)
In
the West End for the first time - and set to take the capital by storm - is
STOMP, a unique, energy-fuelled combination of percussion, movement and visual
comedy, with - unusually - the dustbin as its central theme. The show launched
in Brighton in 1991, following a 10-year collaboration
between percussionist Luke Cresswell and
actor/singer/ musician/ writer Steve McNicholas. It
has since won a host of awards and played in locations as diverse as Athens,
Melbourne, New York, Scandinavia and South Africa. This baby has even featured
on 'Blue Peter' and in a Coca-Cola commercial (the one with the ice-pick...).
Intrigued?
I was. Being a virgin to the phenomenon that is STOMP, I was admittedly slightly
fearful of an hour and 40 minutes of bin-lid banging, followed by several
painkillers and early to bed. I couldn't have been more surprised. These guys
are AMAZING.
Wearing
workman's boots, STOMP's immensely talented eight performers mostly trained
drummers - stamp (or stomp) and tap their way around the stage in a series of
sketches, although there is no apparent plot and no underlying message to be
learnt (this is pure visual and aural entertainment). The beats they create
with their feet are accompanied by rhythms and sounds produced using impromptu
instruments, all connected with garbage (from waste piping and empty plastic
bottles to buckets, brushes and dustbin lids). The result is an achingly clever
cacophony-cum-symphony of funky rhythms, complex sound patterns and
surprisingly toe-tapping tunes, and proof that there is beauty in everything.
It's a spellbinding
performance.
The
hip, urban backstreet set and the lighting design by Neil Tiplady
and Steve McNicholas further enhance the ambience.
The
performers work in impressive union - keeping time, interacting with one
another and even, in amusing moments, endearingly teasing their
less-than-rhythmic audience. Plus - enviably - they look like they are having
the absolute time of their lives.
On
the evening I attended, there was a standing ovation - something that bodes
extremely well for the rest of the run.
Creative,
captivating, compulsive and utterly cool. Ten out of ten.
BOX
OFFICE: 0870 890 0511
Reviewed by Clare Peel for Theatreworld Internet Magazine
We Will Rock You -
(The Musical)
by Queen and Ben Elton
now playing at The Dominion
Theatre
Instantaneously
catapulted into the mesmeric futuristic world of We Will Rock You, the audience
at the Dominion Theatre experience a wonderful roller-coaster ride through Ben
Elton's vision of The Brave New World. That's to say, A Brave New Pop World
where musical instruments are banned and manufactured pop bands thrive.
Our
hero, Galileo, is a freak of nature in this planet of homogenous
"Gaga" girls and boys, who furiously strives to bring back rock music
to an all too pop-dominated world. With the aid of his sidekick, Scaramouche (yes, the humour is all very obvious but it
strangely works), they venture underground and uncover a group of Bohemians who
share the aim of bringing the world back to its former glory. Believe me, this
is really great stuff. The plot pales into insignificance once the singing and
dancing gets going. For someone not overly keen on Queen's songs, my toe really
was tapping.
The
cast work their way through all the favourites...Under Pressure, It's A Kinda Magic, We Are The
Champions...songs which are cleverly interwoven into the plot with ease. They
alternate between rigid robotic movements, brilliantly displayed in Radio Gaga,
and free flowing head banging during the closing Bohemian Rhapsody. Visually,
the costumes excel because of the sheer variety, with the futuristic cyberbabes scantily clad in silver spandex whereas the Bohos opt for a grungy yet glamorous punk ensemble
reminiscent of Adam Ant and Boy George.
The
Production Designers, Mark Fisher and Willie Williams, famed for innovative
tour set designs for Pink Floyd and the Rolling Stones, pulled out all the
stops. The revolving screens which create a swirling backdrop to the entire
play understandably cost £1 million. They bombard you with a technicolour display of eye-catching images and adverts.
The quality of this show is undeniable as from start to finish you are
captivated by the stunning visual effects and lavish displays of lighting that
are so startling they practically sting your eyes.
As
with all the West End musicals, there is the obligatory overly sentimental part
which in We Will Rock You is dedicated to all famous rock legends who died
young and left beautiful bodies(!), the focus being
mainly on Freddie Mercury. Its slush but rather good slush.
As
far as the acting is concerned, it is first class. Despite a multitude of great
performances, Hannah Jane Fox who plays Scaramouche
stole the show. For such a waif of a girl she has a gutsy voice, which is breath-taking
at moments. Nigel Planer plays Pop, the long-haired loveable hippy character
with zeal and is loved by the audience.
When
the West End is plagued with some really dire musicals, We Will Rock You is a
real breath of fresh air. There is no need to be an ardent fan of Queen to
appreciate this amazing spectacle. To a certain extent it will become dated as
references to Britney Spears and Hearsay will have less of an impact in months
to come. Yet these anachronisms must be overlooked. Go along, surprise yourself
and I will guarantee you will come out humming all the tunes.
Reviewed by Charlotte Seales
for Theatreworld Internet Magazine
Disney
presents
THE
LION KING
The
Award-Winning Broadway Musical
now playing at LYCEUM
THEATRE (Wellington Street, WC2)
“THE LION KING” ROARS IN TRIUMPH !
In almost 50
year’s connection with the Theatre, and four years as Editor of
THEATREWORLD INTERNET MAGAZINE, I have to confess that this is the most
difficult review I have ever undertaken - there are simply not enough
superlatives in the English language to describe “THE LION KING”
From the
moment the curtain rises on the assembly of animals at sunrise at Pride Rock
for the ‘presentation’ of the heir apparent (Simba)
- the audience is totally silenced, mesmerised, by the unbelievably realistic
display of wild-life! Huge Elephants, enormous Giraffes, graceful
Gazelles - the procession seems to go on and on. It is not until the final drum
crash at the end of “Circle of Life”, that
the audience whoops with delight and the applause is deafening!
Perhaps I
should confess that this review is totally biased - the reviewer being an
utter, unashamed Disney fanatic! However, all the hype, and the brilliant
marketing of this (former) animated feature pays off in abundance with the most
spectacular and stunningly clever musical we have seen in London’s West
End for three decades!
Disney’s
first venture onto the Broadway, London and other stages around the world began
with ‘Beauty and the Beast’. Many critics dismissed the work as
just another piece of ‘Disney escapism’. Whilst
‘Beauty’ was relatively simple to translate to the stage, being a
familiar ‘folk-tale, and containing ‘human’ characters - THE
LION KING with its ‘cast’ consisting entirely of animals should
have presented Disney’s ‘imagineers’
with an almighty headache.
Enter
Director AND designer JULIE TAYMOR who, with the addition of the
most stunning head-dresses, costumes and make-up INSTANTLY AND BELIEVABLY
transforms the actors into the characters they portray. These creatures are no
‘Cats’ in leotards and painted faces! Ms. Taymor
is an astoundingly brilliant creator, in as much as she has a concept which
weaves its’ way throughout the entire production. The choreography (Garth
Fagan) is perfect for the piece, the lighting (Donald Holder) ... vividly
conjuring up the sights of Africa ... but above all the brilliantly effective
design of the characters costumes and masks - all bear her hallmark! Small wonder that she was the first woman to win a coveted
“Tony” award for ‘Best Director of a Musical’ for THE
LION KING on Broadway.
All of your
favourites from the movie are here -
Rafiki (the wise baboon), The wicked hyenas, Scar (the evil uncle), Pumbaa (the wart-hog), Timon (the
wise-cracking meercat), Zazu
(the major-domo), Nala (Simba’s
bride to be!), Mufasa (Simba’s
father), and of course, Simba - the Lion King!
But there
are many, many more delights - which to reveal, would be to spoil your
enjoyment. Ms. Taymor uses every trick in her book -
but wisely and sparingly. She draws on techniques not seen in this country for decades .... shadow puppets .... soaring birds which fill the auditorium ... a beautiful
‘flying ballet’ ... animatronics ... the use of lighting and an
extremely simple ‘device’ to depict the death of The Pridelands once Scar has murdered Mufasa.
All so simple - yet it takes the mind and imagination of a genius to come up
with such effects - the Genius of THE LION KING is Julie Taymor.
I have
deliberately NOT singled out any member of the (HUGE) cast - since they all
played (I suspect as they were directed to?) as an ensemble. Each member of the
cast has his or her own chance to ‘shine’ and they do so with a
brilliance that is not evident anywhere on the London stage at present.
Acting-wise,
for them to even approach the ‘voice-overs’ in the animated feature
(which were such luminaries as James Earl Jones, Whoopi Goldberg and Jeremy
Irons) might be considered impossible. However, they don’t need to. The
sheer size and spectacle of this stage version totally eclipses the
two-dimensional movie and brings ‘The Pridelands’
to life before your eyes.
The original
score has been expanded for the stage and now features fifteen musical numbers.
South African composer Lebo M has created an evocative blend of African rhythms
and chorales, with additional material by Julie Taymor
and Mark Mancina. Elton John and Tim Rice have added
three new numbers to the five they wrote for the animated film. The resulting
sound of The Lion King score is a fusion of Western popular music and the
distinctive sounds and rhythms of Africa, embracing the Academy award winning
“Can You Feel The Love Tonight” and the
haunting “Shadowland”
Any
‘critic’ who pours out their usual ‘bile’ after seeing
this production has clearly lost the ‘inner child’ which exists
within us all - they should seek a good therapist..
What they will not realise is that audiences have now ‘grown-up’ -
and yet not (there’s a child deep down inside all of us!) Audiences
are now demanding what they want - entertainment. Barricade scenes, riots,
falling chandeliers and helicopters are a thing of the past.
Disney’s
THE LION KING gives you what you pay for, and as always with Disney - you get
VALUE FOR MONEY !!
Last
night’s prolonged standing ovation from an enraptured audience said it all !!!!!
THEATREWORLD
cannot recommend this production more highly than to rate it as it’s new Number one in the
Top Ten Musicals and Plays in London!
You’ll have to wait in line for a long
time for a ticket,
THE LION KING will ‘reign’ for
years at the Lyceum Theatre -
but be patient and, take
my word -
it will be something
you tell your Grandchildren about -
you’ll have been part of
“The Circle of Life”.
THE LION
KING is produced by Walt Disney Theatrical Productions under the direction of
Peter Schneider and Thomas Schumacher.
Reviewed
by Graham Powner - Theatreworld Internet Magazine
MAMMA MIA
featuring a hefty 27 songs by Europopsters ABBA !!!
now playing at Prince of
Wales Theatre
This is a review of the original production cast changes will
therefore apply
Let’s
face it, the idea of sitting through a musical based on over twenty-seven Abba
songs could be, for some of us, a form of Japanese torture, for others, an
eagerly anticipated night of frivolous fun, happily overdosing on all the great
classics.
The
main problem lies in deciding on a plot which can be successfully merged with
obscurely titled songs such as “Chiquitita”,
“Voulez-vous” and “Mamma
Mia.” The writer, Catherine Johnson, opts for the typical cliched story about a girl’s search for identity,
self discovery and the difficulty of relationships. The story is
straightforward. Sophie, a bride to-be, has invited three men, any of whom
could be her long lost father to her wedding on a quiet, Greek island. Two of
Sophie’s mother’s friends arrive, Tanya and Rosie. These two
characters contribute a great deal of humour to the play. Tanya is a glamorous,
nymphomaniac “Abs Fabs” Patsy-esque character who towers over Rosie, the archetypal dumpy
yet aimable middle-aged woman, like a giant. They add
much colour to “Mamma Mia” and their “Dancing Queen”
scene involving Sophie’s mother Donna is great. Hairbrush in hand, the
trio sing and dance along to their favourite teenage anthem in a natural,
spontaneous manner.
Concerning
the choreography in general, the upbeat, energetic performances to
“Money, Money,Money”
and “Does your mother know” were excellent. More of these and less
of the mediocre duets were needed. It seemed as though all the classic Abba
songs were crammed into the first half, causing the second part to be slow
paced and too static. Nevertheless, a nice alternative to costume was provided
by the wetsuit and flipper clad backing dancers in some of the songs, rather
fitting to the Greek island setting.
The
set design, consisting of two curved walls representing a taverna,
allowed fluid change of scene. However, its minimalism was taken a bit to the
extreme, the taverna looked more derelict than idyllic,
too much was left to the imagination.
Despite
these few disappointments “Mamma Mia” redeems itself with its witty
dialogue, a combination of double entendre and funny banter. Siobhan
McCarthy’s role as the single mother Donna is brilliant, unfortunately
casting quite a shadow on Lisa Stokke’s debut
in the West End as Sophie.
Although Abba will always be
remembered for their electric turquoise blue lycra
outfits and white platform boots rather than for an array of songs with deeply
moving and thought provoking lyrics, their genre of music is ideal and a real crowdpleaser for this West End musical at the Prince Edward
Theatre.
Reviewed by Charlotte Seales for
Theatreworld Internet Magazine
CHICAGO
Reviewed at the Adelphi Theatre transferred to Cambridge Theatre from 28 April 2006
“CHICAGO” IS A SMASH !! -
‘The Second Time Around’
Original produced in 1975, this Kander & Ebb (of ‘Cabaret’ fame) show set in the ‘roaring twenties’ show was billed as “a musical vaudeville”, and was loosely based on a play (subsequently filmed twice, the latter version starring Ginger Rogers).
The original Broadway production was a smash hit running for well over two years. It starred legendary Broadway Musical performers Chita Rivera, Gwen Verdon and Jerry Orbach in the lead roles - and they were perfect - as was the show - with its’ ‘quirky’ style. It had master choreographer Bob Fosse whose genius for dance was the ticket to a successful Broadway show way back then. It was snappy, sassy, and written totally with tongue in cheek. The characters were given pastiche songs to sing in true vaudevillian style almost impersonating people like Eddie Cantor, Sophie Tucker, Bert Lahr etc.
Unfortunately, when it made its way across the Atlantic to London via Leicester Haymarket Theatre it got ‘waterlogged’ - the show was horrendously re-vamped and presented in a totally differing style to the original concept as was originally written. It was this and this alone which condemned the show in the UK, and when it finally transferred to London’s West End, it was inevitably a flop. One can only imagine that the Leicester producers assumed that British audiences wouldn’t recognise the vaudevillian performers pastiched in the show and decided to go for a totally new look - but “Chicago’s” original fame had preceded it and it was the original production which audiences wanted to see. Would that the original Broadway stars had been able to bring the show to London - it would most certainly have been the sell-out success it was at the 46th Street Theatre, New York.
However, that is history. “CHICAGO” IS BACK - and this time - TO STAY!!!
Times change - we now live in a far more CYNICAL society (another very potent ingredient of the original musical) - a society which sees nothing wrong in making a media circus out of a murder trial (O.J. Simpson springs to mind!). This is basically what “CHICAGO” is about.
Roxie Hart has just shot her lover after he threatens to leave her for another (presumably younger broad) - she tries to get her husband to take the rap - but Amos (the ‘Mr Cellophane’ man) - a nobody, a nothing “you can see right through me, walk right by me, and never know my name!” - at first agrees thinking Roxie is telling the truth when she proclaims ‘rape’. However he soon wises up and Roxie is arrested, charged with murder and thrown into Cook County Jail. There she meets up with her fellow murderesses, including Velma Kelly - who is the toast of the jail have secured the services of lawyer Billy Flynn (a pastiche character based on the legendary lawyer Clarence Darrow) - he never lets his clients swing!
On hearing Roxie’s story, he takes her on too and explains that she can be a ‘star’ through his court ‘performance “Razzle-Dazzle ‘Em”. This, of course, is right up Roxie’s street - she has always been in the chorus - this is her big break. The Courtroom scene is hilarious - and, of course Roxie gets off.
In 1997, this seems nowhere near as cynical as it did in 1975 and it is the cynicism which has been brought to the fore for this brand new working of the musical. It most certainly is NOT the “Chicago” of yesteryear - but a fascinatingly brilliant re-working of the original with the same feel which the original contained. What is on offer on the Adelphi Stage is something just as exciting and zappy - especially with ANN REINKING’s wonderful choreography “in the style of Bob Fosse”. Mr Fosse could have no better epitaph than Miss Reinking’s ‘loving’ tribute - the dancing is nothing less than dazzling and brilliantly executed.
RUTHIE HENSHALL has once and for all lost her ‘goody-two-shoes heroine’ image with her sensual, sexy and totally believable wicked portrayal of murderess Roxie. It is almost unbelievable to think that this summer she was playing the heroine in Sandy Wilson’s ‘Divorce Me Darling’ - THERE WERE TIMES WHEN I HAD TO PINCH MYSELF TO REALISE IT WAS THE SAME PERSON! She was magnificent. UTA LEMPER as Velma Kelly was wonderfully brash and possessed a strong voice and personality, though I did feel that some of her dance numbers could have been a little more varied in their execution.
HENRY GOODMAN was a perfect smoothy lawyer (Billy Flynn) - though it has to be said that this is a ‘womens’ show - the male characters have to fight hard to keep up with the ladies - however, Mr Goodman held his ground. NIGEL PLANER as Roxie’s cuckolded husband was absolutely brilliant - his deferential ‘Mr Cellophane’ number bringing a moistness to the eye just as it should. One must also mention C.Shirvell’s marvellous voice as ‘Mary Sunshine’ - the radio reporter - though to say more would be to spoil the ‘surprise’.
EVERY SINGLE ACTOR deserves a mention since they all performed to a peak of perfection which hasn’t been seen on a London stage in a ‘real’ Broadway musical for decades. This also includes the fabulous band under the direction of GARETH VALENTINE. How many shows have you seen an audience sit in their seats until the ‘play-out’ music has finished in order to applaud the band?
Under the tight, taut, tense direction of WALTER BOBBIE - I think it is safe to say that the Adelphi Theatre will have Kander & Ebb’s melodies resounding through the building for a couple of years AT LEAST!
Thank you Broadway for giving us a taste of what fun musical theatre was
- and still can be like!
Reviewed by Graham Powner - Theatreworld Internet Magazine
SHAKESPEARE'S GLOBE - EXHIBITION AND EDUCATIONAL FACILITIES REMAIN OPEN YEAR ROUND ! - WELL WORTH A VISIT
The Globe Café - with an all-day menu with main dishes from £5 and open from 10am, last orders 11pm. Menu also served on the outside terrace in fine weather. No booking required.
The Globe Restaurant - Main dishes from the Grill starting at £8 and two courses with coffee from £12.50. Open for lunch from 12 noon - 2-30pm, supper 5.30pm to 11pm last orders. Special pre and post theatre menu available during the season. Booking advisable.
The Globe Balcony - Situated on the third floor, with panoramic views of the river, St. Paul’s and the City. Available for private bookings throughout the year.
For reservations and enquiries telephone: 020 7928 9444
Open all the year round except December 24 & 25.
For more details or individual advice/help - email: GPowner@aol.com