Review – Screaming Blue Murder, Underground at the Derngate, Northampton, 24th January 2026

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Hurrah for the return of Screaming Blue Murder at the Royal and Derngate, and a swinging start to the year with a full house crowded into the Underground Studio. There was a considerable change to the line-up, but I reckon we got a much better threesome than had been advertised (don’t tell anyone I said that). We also welcomed the return of the ever-engaging, always delightful Dan Evans to host us through the melange, getting to know the types of people who risk all by sitting in the front two rows. That included Nathan from the National Grid, and the genuinely fascinating actor based in Hanoi who plays action heroes in video games. Who knew?

However, we must first address the elephant in the room. Or rather, about eight elephants, who were out on a belated Christmas celebration night, fully loaded with alcohol but having forgotten to eat. Teachers, apparently; p*ssed as ar*eholes, definitely. Thank heavens they never revealed the name of the school! They weren’t aggressive but they were disruptive and made it difficult for everyone – the acts and the rest of the audience – to tune into the evening. Fortunately, they made the wise decision to leave in the first interval and carry on drinking in the Mailcoach. Hey Hallelujah!

Sadly, it was up to our opening act, the always hilarious Meryl O’Rourke, to take one for the team and manage these problematic ladies. Wisely she decided not to do any challenging material and instead stuck to the tried and tested Menopausal Meryl stuff. She has some brilliant observations on surviving those testing years; it’s very skilful to make menopause humour equally funny to men as it is to women, and she’s great at it. She confessed that she didn’t really know how to handle those women – but clever wordplay and a roundabout approach resulted in her being able to call them out for what they were (and I won’t say the word here!) but it resonated with us all and she got a massive round of applause for saying it. I’m sure it was the prime reason most of them left to carry on drinking.

Next up, and with peace and stability in the room regained, we had the inimitable Dave Chawner, a regular comedy star at the Edinburgh Fringe, who often likes to come at his comedy from a mental health direction. He told us of his lovely partner Oonagh from Northern Ireland – and the best way to distinguish the two types of people who live there. As an alternative to comedians who talk about their kids, he talks about all the reasons why he doesn’t have kids, which makes a nice change. He’s effortlessly gifted in crafting lovely turns of phrase throughout his act, sets up a good rapport with the audience, and has some wonderfully creative insights into life. I particularly liked his immensely sound reasoning for why some people put up unwanted St George’s flags in inappropriate locations. Top stuff, and he definitely steered the show back into the positive zone!

Our headliner, and another change to the advertised programme, was the irrepressibly mischievous Dan Antopolski, unashamedly one of my favourite comedians. The thing with Mr A is that you can never tell in which direction he’s going to take you. Hitting the ground running with a brilliant – and so appropriate for that evening – opening line about bunches, no subject is out of bounds as he adopts his slightly surreal take on everything. Among his best bits were great reasoning for why you might put socks on before pants, the definition of “a character”, and what constitutes grounds for divorce. Clever and intelligent material, elegantly crafted and phrased, and delivered with wicked style and a knowing look.

Next Screaming Blue Murder night is on Valentine’s Day! If you’re free, why not come? Just don’t pre-load for hours first.

Review – Bengal Tiger at the Baghdad Zoo, Young Vic, London, 21st January 2026

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In the opening moments of Bengal Tiger at the Baghdad Zoo, we hear the recorded voice of George Dubya Bush promising figurative sunflowers and butterflies when Saddam Hussein is toppled, and we all know how well that went. Mind you, I can’t talk, I’m as much to blame as anyone, as I fully believed that Saddam had those Weapons of Mass Destruction. After all, we sold them to him! He must have hidden them somewhere… Best not go there.

Unlike Rajiv Joseph, whose play goes there all guns blazing. He fearlessly pulls apart the Iraqi war of 2003, in an attempt to analyse the nature of war and warriors, the damage they do and the consequences they have. At least, I think that’s what he’s doing; it’s a very complicated play! In the case of this particular war, he also turns his attention to the almost unique position that interpreters have, working on the ground as a link between occupying forces/liberators (your choice) and local people. Do they count as warriors, or are they more like support staff, akin to army medics? A problematic situation calls for a problematic play, and Joseph certainly delivers that.

The inspiration comes from the bombing of Baghdad which, inter alia, caused the zoo to be destroyed, and all the animals escaped except the zoo’s solitary Bengal Tiger. With no keepers to look after him and no regular meals, he was starving to death in his enclosure. He was discovered when two American soldiers reconnoitred the zoo; one of the soldiers tried to feed it, resulting in the tiger attacking him. Unsurprisingly, the tiger was shot and killed. A relatively minor incident in terms of the war as a whole, but a fascinating springboard for an exploration of the casualties of military action.

Dubya’s opening speech sets the tone for two and a half hours of dramatic irony; those sunflowers and butterflies remain noticeably absent. The play is structured as a series of episodes or stand-alone scenes; if you want a connecting narrative you have to do the work yourself. It teems with complex ideas that crash into each other, making it hard to draw conclusions or see easy solutions to putting an end to conflict. The chaos of war is everywhere – not only noise, destruction, death and disfigurement, but also miscommunication, mental breakdown and the suspension of logic (a hand job costs ten dollars more than full sex, sorry if you’re having lunch).

Omar Elerian’s production emphasises the chaos within the play, relying on many alienation techniques, with incomprehensible or inappropriate language and accents, disturbing sudden loud bangs, blackouts, flashing lights and so on, the constant presence of ghosts; not to mention a talking tiger.

Ah yes, the fourth wall-breaking tiger; whom we see as a slightly disgruntled, lazy beast in his cage until he gets shot, after which he becomes a ghost for the rest of the play. He’s the most interesting and entertaining character, with his bitchy disdain of the lions, self-loathing for being stupid enough to be caught and brought from the wild, regret for a moment of madness when he killed and ate two children – but he was hungry, what was he meant to do? – and his extraordinary progress towards a state of redemption, culminating in – he thinks – meeting God. Clearly, this is not just any tiger. In Peter Forbes’ brilliant performance he invests the tiger with a broad, gruff Scottish accent that sets him apart from both the locals and the Americans. Arguably, the tiger is the only character who behaves with dignity and without guile; truly honest from the start, whilst all the other characters are playing a part or going rogue. I’m not sure if there is actually a message in this play, but if there is, it’s probably: be more Tiger.

You definitely don’t want to be like the two American soldiers who “liberate” the zoo in the opening scene. Tom ends up with a prosthetic hand after the tiger takes a bite, and his only hope for the future is making a bit of money on Ebay by selling Uday Hussain’s gold revolver and his gold toilet seat – except that he has lost them in the chaos of war. Upbeat and arrogant Kev, who’s only interested in who’s getting some pussy (again, apologies), loses his senses in a delicate but tense operation involving locals and the interpreter Musa, becomes hospitalised as he can’t get the ghost of the tiger out of his head, and eventually becomes a ghost himself after chopping off his own hand. This is war: no one gets out alive. But then again, is it fair to expect an ordinary bloke off the street from Michigan (no offence) to excel in the theatre of war?

Even Musa is haunted by the ghost of Uday Hussain, Saddam’s flamboyant and extravagant son, for whom he gardened before the war and who regrets introducing his sister to the villainous wretch. At a rough count towards the end, I think the number of ghosts probably outweighs the number of survivors.

Rajha Shakiry’s set admirably reflects the disarray of the chaos of war, with its crumbling walls, relentless sand, and comfortless concrete platforms. Even the poor tiger only has an old tyre to play with. Jackie Shemesh’s lighting design adds to the shock horror of war, with suggestions of a burning city in the background; a small thing, but I did enjoy how the lighting made a ceiling fan turn into helicopter blades – very inventive.

Excellent performances from the always superb Arinzé Kene as Kev, his confident bluster turning to mush has he falls further into mental torment, and Patrick Gibson as Tom who lets his guard down at a fatal moment. Amma Haj Ahmad gives an intense and disturbing performance as Musa, the translator who perhaps has an overdeveloped sense of his own significance and needs to find his own course of survival; and Sayyid Aki is disconcertingly entertaining as the alarmingly unpredictable Uday. It’s a shame that there are no meaningful female voices in this play, but that is perhaps a fair reflection of the events of this war.

Imperfectly impressive, infuriatingly inconclusive, at times hard to understand and always challenging for the audience. It’s not an easy watch, and the alienating techniques can get to you. Sometimes you feel this is more of an intellectual exercise than an absorbing or rewarding play; perhaps reflecting this, there was hardly any applause at the end of the first Act, and there were several non-returners after the interval. But you have to admire the surreal originality of the play, the talent of the cast and the effectiveness of the production. And in spite of its content, it genuinely is strangely entertaining! Bengal Tiger stalks the stage of the Young Vic until 31st January.

4-stars

Four They’re Jolly Good Fellows!

Review – Stephen K Amos, Now We’re Talking, Underground at the Royal and Derngate, Northampton, 10th January 2026

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One of our favourite funny men, Stephen K Amos is midway through his UK tour of his latest show Now We’re Talking, and it was a delight to see the Underground in Northampton sold out to greet him. Would he have a support act? He addressed the issue in his opening moments when he candidly confessed, he normally would but decided he couldn’t afford one this week. Consequently, we had a good two hours or more of undiluted Mr Amos, and I for one am not complaining.

His message in his latest show is that, in these awful days where everything seems to be going what my father used to call arse-uppards, we need to talk but moreover we really need to listen. It is still possible to “find the funny” in the most unusual or indeed impossible situations – and Mr A is a master of that art. Everyone says you can’t say anything nowadays, which anyone with an ounce of understanding realises is not true; you can, but you just have to be more skilled at it. As Mr A says, if you think and if you listen, you can say what you like; just don’t imitate your Nigerian doctor – as he gamely demonstrated.

Stephen K Amos has always incorporated his brilliant fluidity with accents and attitude in his act, to tremendous comic effect. He wastes no time getting to know the people in the front rows – beware if you sit close to the stage when he’s on, as you will get involved! We met Andrew and Jo from posh Market Harborough, baker Megan and Police officer Georgie; others who remained nameless included a relentless scoffer of Maltesers and someone who chucked him a caveat which Mr A rightly interpreted as a masked heckle, and as a result he regretted his words for the rest of the evening. For all that he’s a hilarious comic, Mr A can get quite ruthless with the audience, so you’d better have your wits about you if you engage unwisely!

At the end of the act, his astute mind and rigorous memory let loose a terrific final routine where he creates a story populated with all the characters in the audience with whom he’s spoken, imitating their manner using their words back at them. It’s incredibly clever and shows just what a smart cookie he is. Mr Amos’ comedy is always intelligent and thoughtful; his observations are well-reasoned and hit the nail on the head. And despite all the problems with the world, you come away from the show feeling uplifted; his is a very optimistic act, and we definitely need more of that!

Hilarious comic observations? For sure. Wordplay? You got it. Instant comic reactions to anything the audience throws at him? Absolutely! The Now We’re Talking tour continues throughout the UK until 7th February; he’s then touring in Australia from March to May with a couple of dates in New Zealand at the end.

Review of the Year 2025 – The Fifteenth Annual Chrisparkle Awards

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Greetings again, gentle reader, to the glamorous showbiz highlight of the year, the announcement of the annual Chrisparkle Awards for 2025. Slightly fewer shows seen this year – 230, twenty-four down on last year’s 254 productions; I hope that’s not a sign that I’m slowing down! Eligibility for the awards means a) they were performed in the UK and b) I have to have seen the shows and reviewed them in the period 5th January 2025 to 4th January 2026. Are you all sitting comfortably? Then we’ll begin!

 

The first award is for Best Dance Production (Contemporary and Classical)

This includes dance seen at the Edinburgh Fringe, which is just as well, as I only saw two dance productions this year, and they are:

In 2nd place, Matthew Bourne’s charming but undemanding The Midnight Bell, at the Royal and Derngate Theatre, Northampton, in July.

In 1st place, Saeed Hani’s challenging and emotional Inlet, performed by Hani Dance at Dance Base, Edinburgh, in August.

 

Classical Music Concert of the Year.

Again we only saw two classical concerts this year, both by the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra at the Royal and Derngate in Northampton. The award for the best goes to their Valentine’s Day Gala in February.

 

Best Entertainment Show of the Year.

This means anything that doesn’t fall into any other categories – for example pantos, circuses, revues and anything else hard to classify. Here are the top three:

In 3rd place, our local pantomime, The All New Adventures of Peter Pan at the Royal and Derngate, Northampton, in December.

In 2nd place, the spectacular extravaganza that is Sleeping Beauty at the London Palladium in December.

In 1st place, the home of great panto, Aladdin at the Lyceum Theatre, Sheffield, in January 2026.

 

Best Star Standup of the Year.

Only four eligible shows this year, so here are the top three performances by Star Standups in 2025:

In 3rd place, Eshaan Akbar in his I Can’t Get No Satisfakshaan show at the Royal and Derngate, Northampton in February.

In 2nd place, Kae Kurd in his What’s O’Kurd show at the Royal and Derngate, Northampton in October.

In 1st place, Dara O’Briain in his Re: Creation show at the Corn Exchange, Bedford in April.

 

Best Comedy Crate/Screaming Blue Murder Standup of the Year

It just so happens that all the top five were from Comedy Crate shows!

In 5th place, Jordan Gray (at the Charles Bradlaugh in February)

In 4th place, Charlie Baker (Edinburgh Preview Weekender in July)

In 3rd place, Hal Cruttenden (at the Charles Bradlaugh in January and at the Edinburgh Preview Weekender in July)

In 2nd place, Mike Rice (at the Charles Bradlaugh in May)

In 1st place, Thor Stenhaug (Edinburgh Preview Weekender in July)

 

Best Musical

I only saw nine musicals this year, and here’s the top five:

In 5th place, The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry at the Minerva Theatre, Chichester, in May.

In 4th place, The Great Gatsby at the London Coliseum, in April.

In 3rd place, the post-West End touring production of Dear Evan Hansen at Royal and Derngate Theatre, Northampton, in January.

In 2nd place, a curiosity-driven revisit to see Les Miserables at the Sondheim Theatre, London, in February.

In 1st place, Evita, at the London Palladium, in July.

 

Best New Play

Just to clarify, this is my definition of a new play, which is something that’s new to me and to most of its audience – so it might have been around before but on its first UK tour, or a new adaptation of a work originally in another format. We saw seventeen new plays this year, and I awarded five stars to five of them; it therefore follows that they are the top five!

In 5th place, Mischief Theatre’s The Comedy About Spies, at the Noel Coward Theatre, London, in May.

In 4th place, Tom Wells’ adaptation for the RSC of Roald Dahl’s The BFG, at the Royal Shakespeare Theatre, Stratford-upon-Avon, in December.

In 3rd place, Karim Khan’s inventive and insightful Before the Millennium, at the Old Fire Station, Oxford, in December.

In 2nd place, James Ijames’ delightful reworking of Hamlet, Fat Ham for the Royal Shakespeare Company at the Swan Theatre, Stratford-upon-Avon, in August.

In 1st place, James Graham’s outstanding Punch at the Young Vic, London, in April.

 

Best Revival of a Play

I saw twenty-four revivals, with six receiving five stars from me; here are the top five:

In 5th place, the RSC’s two-part production of Galsworthy’s Forsyte Saga, adapted by Shaun McKenna and Lin Coghlan at the Swan Theatre, Stratford-upon-Avon, in December.

In 4th place, the RSC’s brave and thrilling production of Marlowe’s Edward II, at the Swan Theatre, Stratford-upon-Avon, in March.

In 3rd place, Ivo van Hove’s riveting production of Arthur Miller’s All My Sons, at Wyndham’s Theatre, London, in December.

In 2nd place, the RSC’s superbly imaginative production of Hamlet, at the Royal Shakespeare Theatre, Stratford-upon-Avon, in February.

In 1st place, James Graham’s extraordinary exploration of England – both the team and the country – in Dear England, for the National Theatre at the Olivier Theatre, London, in April.

 

As always, in the post-Christmas season, it’s time to consider the turkey of the year – and it’s a toss-up between the six productions to whom I only gave two stars; but the one I feel failed to deliver when it had the most potential to succeed was Unicorn at the Garrick Theatre, London, in March.

Now we come on to our four categories specifically for the Edinburgh Fringe. The first is:

 

Best play or musical – Edinburgh

We saw 106 productions of plays and musicals in Edinburgh this year, 18 of them got 5* from me, and here are the top 5:

In 5th place, Louisa Marshall’s savage and innovative exploration of weaponised incompetence, Clean Slate (Summerhall)

In 4th place, Dylan Kaueper and Will Grice’s wickedly inventive examination of childhood friendship, Cody and Beau (The Space on the Mile)

In 3rd place, Tony Norman’s beautiful musical about the Van Gogh brothers, Vagabond Skies (Gilded Balloon at the Museum)

In 2nd place, Priyanka Shetty’s shattering reconstruction of the rise of the Alt Right, #CHARLOTTESVILLE (Pleasance Courtyard)

In 1st place, creating satire where you might think it’s beyond satire, Miss Brexit (Underbelly Bristo Square)

 

Best Individual Performance in a Play or Musical – Edinburgh

As always, an impossible choice, and it’s as close as close can be. Nevertheless, here are the top five (and yes I am cheating for 5th place):

In 5th place, Dylan Kaueper and Will Grice for Cody and Beau (The Space on the Mile)

In 4th place, Priyanka Shetty for #CHARLOTTESVILLE (Pleasance Courtyard)

In 3rd place, Louisa Marshall for Clean Slate (Summerhall)

In 2nd place, Quaz Degraft for In The Black (The Space at Surgeons’ Hall)

In 1st place, Christoffer Hvidberg Ronje for The Insider (Pleasance Dome)

 

Best Comedy Performance – Edinburgh

We saw forty-one comedy shows this year, of which eight received 5* from me, and here are my top five:

In 5th place, Matt Forde: Defying Calamity (Pleasance Courtyard)

In 4th place, Sam Lake: You’re Joking, Not Another One! (Monkey Barrel at the Tron)

In 3rd place, Robin Grainger: People Pleaser (The Stand Comedy Club 4)

In 2nd place, Tom Stade: Naughty by Nature (The Stand Comedy Club 1)

In 1st place, Casey Filips as the impossible Tobias Finlay-Fraser in Virtuoso (Assembly George Square)

 

Best of the rest – Edinburgh

From a shortlist of seven, here are my top five:

In 5th place, mixing a real live date with comedy improvisation, Looking for Laughs (Gilded Balloon Patter House)

In 4th place, the irrepressible Accordion Ryan with his Pop Bangers (Gilded Balloon at Appleton Tower)

In 3rd place, Broadway’s Laura Benanti in Nobody Cares (Underbelly Bristo Square)

In 2nd place, Chase Brantley’s truly hilarious Don Toberman: Ping Pong Champ (Pleasance Courtyard)

In 1st place, a star is born: Arthur Hull’s FLOP: The Best Songs from the Worst Musicals Ever Written (Gilded Balloon at Appleton Tower)

Three shows received a dreaded One Star review from me: and for me the Edinburgh turkey of the year was The Fiascoholics’ 4’s a Crowd, which contained just too much of everything it didn’t need.

 

Best Performance by a Female Actor in a Musical

Time to get personal. Here’s the top five:

In 5th place, Alice Fearn as Heidi in Dear Evan Hansen at the Royal and Derngate, Northampton in January.

In 4th place, Lucie Jones as Fantine in Les Miserables at the Sondheim Theatre, London, in February.

In 3rd place, Sharon Rose as Garage Girl and Kate in The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry at the Minerva Theatre, Chichester, in May.

In 2nd place, Frances Mayli McCann as Daisy in The Great Gatsby at the London Coliseum, in April.

In 1st place, Rachel Zegler as Evita in Evita at the London Palladium in July.

 

Best Performance by a Male Actor in a Musical

Here’s the top five:

In 5th place, Corbin Bleu as Nick Carraway in The Great Gatsby at the London Coliseum, in April.

In 4th place, Luke Kempner as Thenardier in Les Miserables at the Sondheim Theatre, London, in February.

In 3rd place, Ian McIntosh as Jean Valjean in Les Miserables at the Sondheim Theatre, London, in February.

In 2nd place, Diego Andres Rodriguez as Che in Evita at the London Palladium, in July.

In 1st place, Jamie Muscato as Jay Gatsby in The Great Gatsby at the London Coliseum, in April.

 

Best Performance by a Female Actor in a Play

Nineteen in the longlist, and ten in the shortlist, and here’s the top five:

In 5th place, Freema Ageyman as Beatrice in the RSC’s Much Ado About Nothing, at the Royal Shakespeare Theatre, Stratford-upon-Avon, in April.

In 4th place, Gina McKee as Annie in The Years, at the Harold Pinter Theatre, London, in April.

In 3rd place, Marianne Jean-Baptiste as Kate in All My Sons, at Wyndham’s Theatre, London, in December.

In 2nd place, Beverley Knight as Rosetta in Marie and Rosetta, at the Minerva Theatre, Chichester, in July.

In 1st place, Tuppence Middleton as Annie in The Years, at the Harold Pinter Theatre, London, in April.

 

Best Performance by a Male Actor in a Play

Twenty-three in the longlist and nine in the shortlist, each of whom could easily deserve the award, However, here is the top five:

In 5th place, Daniel Evans as Edward II in the RSC’s Edward II, at the Swan Theatre, Stratford-upon-Avon in March.

In 4th place, Jonathan Bailey as Richard II in Richard II, at the Bridge Theatre, London, in February.

In 3rd place, Olise Odele as Juicy in the RSC’s Fat Ham, at the Swan Theatre, Stratford-upon-Avon, in August.

In 2nd place, Joseph Millson as Soames in the RSC’s Forsyte Saga, at the Swan Theatre, Stratford-upon-Avon, in December.

In 1st place, David Shields as Jacob in Punch, at the Young Vic, London, in April.

 

Congratulations to the winners – special mention this year for James Graham whose Punch and Dear England feature so highly – commiserations to the losers and thanks for your company again throughout the year, gentle reader. Here’s to another year full of artistic excellence!

Review – A Christmas Carol, Crucible Theatre, Sheffield, 3rd January 2026

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Ever the businessman, I reckon Charles Dickens today would be pretty satisfied with how his Christmas Carol franchise was performing, 183 years since it was first published. From Alastair Sim to the Muppets, from the musical Scrooge to the regular Old Vic production, old Ebenezer and those ghosts are never going to go away. One of the most influential books ever written, its legacy truly lives on. And now, Aisha Khan has adapted it with a unique Sheffield twist for the Crucible stage.

In this production, Jack – a kind of Artful Dodger, briskly played by Mel Lowe – tells three young scallywags about Scrooge’s extraordinary tale, creating a distancing framework and a setting for the story. Once the story starts to unfold, it’s told in a very traditional and straightforward manner, with the revelations of Scrooge’s humble beginnings and how he threw away his chance of happiness with Belle, how he mistreated his kindly boss Mr Fezziwig, and his encounters with those oh so important ghosts.

As an aficionado, rather than a native, of Sheffield, I wasn’t aware of the area’s carol tradition. Dickens saw his story of the redemption of Scrooge as the embodiment of a carol, hence his choice of title. What could be more relevant, then, to incorporate the local tradition of carols into this show? Every year come November, local pubs ring out with the informal singing of songs like Six Jolly Miners, Hail Smiling Morn or Sweet Chiming Bells, known by all so that everyone, unrehearsed, can join in – but totally unknown outside the local area. Aisha Khan’s adaptation includes many of these rousing numbers, helping to take Dickens’ original tale away from its traditional London setting and bring it to Sheffield. This local influence is also seen in the inspired decision to make the Ghost of Christmas Past a miner, leading Scrooge through his history with the aid of his torch-equipped helmet.

Rose Revitt and Kevin Jenkins’ alluring set combines a grim, rickety, upstairs office garret with a more comfortable room downstairs, contrasting Scrooge’s solitary workplace for one with a sociable space for the Cratchits to enjoy their meagre Christmas lunch or for Scrooge’s nephew Fred to host his Christmas party. Bob Cratchit’s desk is placed centre stage, virtually cut adrift from the rest of society, with no creature comforts; just a target for Scrooge to hurl his bundles of documents from a height above so that they come crashing down next to Cratchit to work on – a very nice touch to display the inhumanity of Scrooge’s treatment of his employee.

The costume design is perfect for its era, and the production requires over 100 costumes in all, so the Crucible’s Wardrobe department had its work cut out to recreate the times so credibly. Richard Howell’s lighting design is evocative and inventive, including an ominous creation of Scrooge’s grave, and John Bulleid’s illusion designs work very effectively, adding a touch of eerie magic to the proceedings. Trundling large and heavy elements of the set into place, however, was unfortunately noisy and distracting – just a minor quibble.

Director Elin Schofield created a superb ensemble feel to the entire production, with many cast members adopting several roles, as well as joining in with the songs and choreography. Everyone gave a great performance; stand-outs are Adam Price combining the roles of Fezziwig and the Ghost of Christmas Present, Nitai Levi as the Ghost of Christmas Past,  and Ryan O’Donnell and Kimberly Blake as Mr and Mrs Cratchit, the latter’s refusal to raise a toast to their employer sending a thrill of righteous indignation in agreement with her down all our backs. The a cappella singing is electric – and put me in mind of the production of One Big Blow at the Liverpool Everyman more than forty years ago, which gave rise to the successful group The Flying Pickets.

Ian Midlane is excellent as Scrooge; this is no pantomime villain but a believably complicated and self-deluding soul who fell back on his complacency and saw no need to treat the world kindly, when he thought money was the answer to everything. His change into a charitable chap is great fun to watch and gives the audience a feelgood pickup.

A well-constructed, innovative approach to a familiar story; sadly, now closed, but it is an excellent addition to the Crucible’s ever-growing list of successful Christmas shows.

4-stars

Four They’re Jolly Good Fellows!

Review – Aladdin, Lyceum Theatre, Sheffield, 2nd January 2026

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AladdinWasn’t it Chicago who sang – and I think it was – you’re a Hard Habit to Break? That could have been written about our relationship with the Sheffield panto. And why wouldn’t you – like us – go back year after year for the nostalgically effervescent thrill of an iconic production in a glorious theatre, with music provided under the direction of the most enthusiastic man in show business James Harrison, plus great performers, and all fronted by a bloke in a dress?

The showcase production from Evolution Pantomimes, this year’s offering was Aladdin. Cue an opportunity to meet villagers, a genie, a spirit of the ring, a beautiful princess, a protective policeman, a lovesick local lad, his mates, an evil baddie and a Dame. I rather like the old characterisations of Wishee Washee, Widow Twankey and Abanazar, but this is the 21st century, so instead we have Charlie, Dame Dolly and – you have to give them a lot of credit for this name – Kevin Clifton as Ivan Tochacha.

Having seen the Palladium panto a few days earlier, with all its talent and – let’s not beat about the bush, financial resources – it’s truly impressive how exciting the Sheffield panto remains. The set is a joy to behold, the lighting is exhilarating and the music is impossibly good for just four musicians. Not only that, but the script always treads the perfect balance of giving plenty for both the kids and the adults to laugh at – a balance that few other pantos manage – and is genuinely funny.

It’s no surprise that the recently widowed Dame Dolly is after a new boyfriend, and for our show it was third row Chris who was her lucky suitor. This year his duties were not restricted to his seat, and he sportingly joined the cast on stage for a bit of banter – always irresistible fun. There was some terrific stage magic with Aladdin’s flight on the magic carpet – from our position in Row E, with Aladdin performing aerial somersaults not that far from our heads, we couldn’t work out how it operated. And I’m happy about that – you don’t always want the magic spoiled! And of course, it isn’t the Lyceum Panto without the legendary Lyceum Panto bench, which this year featured a group of mummies (Egyptian, not scrummy) terrorising the decent citizens of the village until they flee at the sight of the Dame. Charming!

The villagers were an exceptional ensemble as always – I particularly liked Dance Captain Charlotte Ross Gower’s turn as “Lorraine” in one of the comedy routines. Joey Wilby was perfect as our gang leader Charlie, George Akid a delightfully frenetic PC World, and Elliot Broadfoot showed off his terrific voice and stage presence as the Genie. Sario Solomon and Lauren Chia made a convincing couple as Aladdin and his beloved Princess Jasmine; to be honest, never has it been so easy for a young lad to win the hand of a princess, but I’m sure they’ll be very happy together.

Evie Pickerill (that’s Evie from CBeebies, as we heard many a time) was outstanding as the Spirit of the Ring, conveying just the right amount of upbeat enthusiasm to keep the story moving for the kids – who loved her – whilst always having a little knowing glint in her eye for the adults. And hats off to Kevin Clifton, who really ran with the role of Mr Tochacha, playing the baddie for all he was worth, giving us plenty of dance moves (he hasn’t lost it yet) and providing the best moments in the show as he led the ensemble in a thrilling rendition of I Predict A Riot.

Finale of AladdinBut the star of the show was, as always, Damian Williams, returning to the Sheffield panto for his 18th year in the role of the Dame – I guess that means he has now reached adulthood. There’s no one quite like him, with his amusingly ungainly presence, larger than life in all directions, tremendous versatility in physical comedy, and a true understanding of what makes panto tick. He celebrated his 1000th performance as the Dame during this run – which kind of says it all.

Next year – Cinderella, and we’re already booked in. So should you!

Five Alive, Let Theatre Thrive!

Review – All My Sons, Wyndham’s Theatre, London, 30th December 2025

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The American Dream: a vision that not only shaped a country and its citizens, but also its theatre. From Oklahoma! to A Chorus Line, from The Iceman Cometh to Glengarry Glen Ross, its inescapable influence and driving force steer characterisations and storylines to dramatic conclusions, both triumphant and disastrous. An arch-critic of the American Dream, Arthur Miller turned his writing career around with the success of All My Sons, first performed in 1947. Apparently, he had decided that if the audiences didn’t appreciate his new play, he would ditch playwrighting and find more lucrative employment. It’s to everyone’s benefit that it ran for 328 performances, picked up various awards, and was adapted into two films.

After the doldrums of the recession, Joe Keller has done well in the aeronautical industry, although his business partner Steve Deever was jailed for shipping defective parts during the war which caused the death of 21 pilots. Joe was also accused but exonerated. Now living in a grand house with his wife Kate and son Chris, all that’s missing is their other son, Larry, who never returned from the war. Kate is convinced Larry is still alive which is why she won’t agree to Chris marrying Ann Deever, who was Larry’s girlfriend. Ann’s brother George also can’t support their union as it would mean marrying into the family that caused the destruction of their own family. Will Larry return? Will Chris and Ann marry? Is Joe innocent? If you don’t know the answers, firstly, where have you been since 1947?! Secondly, I’m not going to tell you. It’s not for me to ruin Miller’s masterful plot revelations.

This is only the second time I’ve seen an Ivo van Hove production, the first being the thrillingly avant garde Hedda Gabler produced by the National Theatre. That production was also designed by Jan Versweyveld, as is the case with All My Sons – van Hove and Versweyveld go together like a horse and carriage, as the old song goes. All My Sons starts with a visceral shock to the system – Kate Keller caught in a violent storm in her garden, battling against the howling winds to save the tree that was planted when Larry was born, 27 years earlier. Her efforts are in vain as the tree cracks mercilessly and falls to the ground, dominating the stage. You won’t find that short scene in Miller’s original text, but it truly sets the pace for a rollercoaster of a production.

Versweyveld’s design places the tree at the absolute heart of the play, representing the lingering presence of Larry in the family dynamic. Family members walk around it and sit on its branches, like designer garden furniture. This becomes visually even more brutal in the second Act, where Chris starts sawing branches off with his chainsaw, literally eradicating Larry from the family. The grand house is relegated to somewhere in the background, captured in a circle of light, resembling a rifle sight, from where characters can look down on the action.

Elsewhere, van Hove’s direction is crisp, clear and emotional, driven by the beautifully unfolding plot and opposing characterisations, identifying the reality as a contrast to the artificiality of the design. My only quibble is that the production has chosen to remove any intervals – unnecessarily in my view, as this is a truly intense play and production which would lose nothing by having a few minutes to regain your breath and pay an urgent visit to the loo. The scene changes within the play necessitate the curtain coming down anyway, so it’s not as though it’s portrayed as one long unbroken event. I reckon something with the power of All My Sons can sustain a comfort break.

The extraordinary cast deliver some of the best performances currently on stage. Hayley Squires gives a clear, powerful performance as Ann, the epitome of reason, conveying that difficult balancing act between being as accommodating as possible with her potential in-laws and asserting her right to live her own life and marry who she wishes. Marianne Jean-Baptiste is outstanding as Kate, portraying those maternal qualities that have always served her – and the wider community – well, but also create her own psychological damage. The interactions between Ms Squires and Ms Jean-Baptiste emphasise how Arthur Miller stands out as one of the few 20th Century male dramatists who can get to the essence of what a woman thinks and feels.

Paapa Essiedu, who was one of the most intriguing Hamlets you’ll ever see, beautifully underplays the role of Chris as the typical second son and people-pleasing underachiever. He is a master of the quietly delivered, throwaway line that conveys so much of the character whilst never demanding attention. This makes his moments of true assertiveness even more effective. Leading the cast, Bryan Cranston gives a tremendous, finely judged performance as Joe; a mixture of happy bluster and family man, teetering on the edge of taking responsibility and slowly coming to terms with the enormity of his secret. The confrontations between Joe and Chris spark with theatrical electricity and you cannot take your eyes off them.

Miller populates the play with a number of minor roles, including an entertaining performance by Zach Wyatt as the astrology-mad Frank, Aliyah Odoffin as his upbeat, positive wife Lydia, Cath Whitefield’s down-to-earth and fearless Sue, Richard Hansell as her frustrated husband Jim, and Tom Glynn-Carney as the seethingly resentful George. At our performance, 8-year-old Bert was played by Sammy Jones who was crackingly confident opposite such esteemed actors.

Issues of responsibility, deceit, the handling of grief; the need to move forward versus the desire to look back, and how emotional selfishness and instability can affect all those around you, All My Sons piles on the themes to create a blistering piece of theatre that will remain with you long after curtain down – as will the memory of those remarkable performances. The show runs at Wyndham’s until 7th March; a surprising number of tickets remain available but watch out for that dynamic pricing.

Five Alive, Let Theatre Thrive!

Review – The Playboy of the Western World, Lyttelton Theatre, National Theatre, London, 29th December 2025

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It has long been a personal travesty that I’d never seen a production of a J M Synge play. I’ve always been fascinated by the story of the riots at the opening performances of Playboy of the Western World in Dublin in 1907, where the honest Dubliners were affronted at the perceived slight on decent Irish womanhood that Synge dishes out. Synge wanted to show a warts and all representation of Ireland, despite the fact that his Irish patrons didn’t want to see that at all. In Britain, only the personal intervention of the Lord Chamberlain himself allowed the play to be performed in London – his advisers expected the play to provoke similar bad reaction from the crowds in Britain as in Ireland. But they overestimated the extent to which British audiences cared about the decency of Irish women, and the play went down rather well as a comedy drama.

In County Mayo, young Christy Mahon turns up at a scruffy bar, dishevelled, tired and dirty. He claims to have murdered his father, which sparks a fascination with him, leading to his becoming a surprise local celebrity. Pegeen Mike, who works in the tavern, despite the protestations of her fiancé, falls in love with him. However, when Christy’s father also turns up, and is revealed not to be dead after all, the townspeople turn against Christy for his deceit. In an attempt to regain his popularity, he has a second go at killing his dad, but this doesn’t make matters any better.

We all know that girls prefer a bad boy. You can deny it as much as you like, but deep down you know it’s true. Playboy can come across as the ultimate proof of that belief, with Christy’s criminality seemingly being a turn-on for the village women. But that is to miss the point. It’s not that he’s a bad boy that makes the girls swoon – it’s that he can spin a great tale. When his craic turns out to be false, it’s the ultimate turn-off. And trying to recreate the crime just makes it worse. The irony is that Christy never intends to be a Playboy – he’s really just a blundering oaf who accidentally becomes popular. No wonder he’s clueless how to put it right.

It’s a cliché to invoke the description a curate’s egg, but in this instance, it nails it. There’s a lot of excellent work here. Katie Davenport’s set and costume design, for example, is outstanding – you can truly believe this is a rural backwater and Catriona McLaughlin’s direction equally makes you believe in the people who live there. The performances are nuanced and strong. Let’s face it: a cast led by the likes of Nicola Coughlan, Siobhan McSweeney and Eanna Hardwicke is always going to turn in a powerful performance. In our show, Old Mahon was played by understudy Donncha O’Dea and he was superb.

The overall impression one gains from the entire production is one of resolute authenticity, from the keening of the village women to the straw costumes for the mumming scenes. And of course, some very strong accents. However, this authenticity is also a problem for a London audience. This production provides a lesson in early 20th century Irish drama that the audience might not realise they need. There’s no doubt that the accents are very, very strong – and if your familiarity with Irish inflections goes no further than Father Ted or Mrs Brown’s Boys you might find yourself completely failing to understand much of the first Act. Regrettably, it was no surprise to anyone that there was a considerable number of no-returns after the interval.

The production is very reverential of Synge’s original work; slow-building, solid, respectful and an authoritative portrayal of that Western World of north-west Mayo in 1907. The trouble with this reverence is that, as a result, it forgets that it’s a comedy; we miss the humour and only concentrate on the characterisations and plot. Many subtleties are lost, including Synge’s gifted use of language, and the reason why Christy gains and loses his popularity so drastically. Unfortunately, that’s really what the whole play is about.

Despite its best intentions and the undoubted expertise of its cast and creative team, this production fails to communicate the essence of the play. It comes across as a historical curiosity rather than a timeless tale with a message for today. Sadly, for me, the negative aspects of this production outweigh the positives. I can’t imagine anyone watching this as their first Synge and then committing to discovering more of his output – and that’s not just a shame, but a disservice to a great writer.

Two Disappointing For More!

Review – Sleeping Beauty, London Palladium, 28th December 2025

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I can’t imagine a Christmas season without a trip to the London Palladium pantomime. I remember looking forward to it so much whenever I went as a child and when they brought it back ten years ago, I was first in line banging to be let in (figuratively, at least). And, boy oh boy, have they taken the opportunity to point out that this is the tenth anniversary of the return of the Palladium panto! I’m all for a spot of nostalgia, but this rather takes the biscuit with an inordinately long introduction wallowing through the last ten years. Pretty heavy-handed stuff! Mind you, as Julian Clary himself points out, there’s not much to the story of Sleeping Beauty – five minutes worth of plot and the rest is padding.

But what delightful padding it is. As you would expect from a Michael Harrison pantomime, the sets are extravagant, the costumes outstanding, and the orchestra (under the baton of Greg Arrowsmith) sumptuous. The first Act concludes with us all arriving at the Forest of Thorns, a theatrical tour-de-design which not only monopolises the stage but the auditorium.

A superb ensemble of boys and girls in the chorus carry the responsible load of driving the musical numbers with the appropriate mix of fun family fantasy  and inimitable Palladium knowing naughtiness. In fact, it was an alumnus from last year’s Palladium Panto, Robin Hood, who grew into this year’s Prince Peter of Pimlico, Amonik Melaco; a confident jump towards stardom with some terrific material about how he got the job. I was surprised that Mr Clary didn’t remark on what a good fist he made of it.

He is matched by a charming performance by Emily Lane as the super-goody Princess Aurora; but it is a mark of the Palladium Panto that they are the least two important characters in the entire show. It’s really a showcase for individual stars to come out and do a routine in the Grand Old Tradition of the Palladium Revue – perhaps nowhere illustrated better than in Dave Knox’s couple of minutes of fire-eating as Master of the Royal Flame.

However, I’m sorry to say that it’s not all Cakes and Ale. In the first half, some of the script seems a little underpowered, and scenes rather peter out into nothing. I went into the interval feeling that this year’s show was a little forced and flat. Things cheer up enormously in the second Act, including a very jolly Twelve Days of Panto routine, Paul Zerdin’s mastery of ventriloquism with two hapless punters from the audience, and lots of Evita references, including an inspired moment with Nigel Havers on the balcony.

In addition to the usual fare of endless opportunities for Julian Clary to be outrageous and Nigel Havers to be ridiculed, much of the show relies on the increasingly National Treasure-to-be Rob Madge providing a theatrical conduit between the audience and the stage as The Diva of Dreams, and they are fantastic as always. New recruit Jon Culshaw makes us shudder with terror at his impersonations of both Donald Trump and Keir Starmer, although, personally, I think he should drop the Martyn Lewis.

Much of the success of the Palladium panto relies on how well the big guest star takes to the challenge. Whilst comparisons are odious (but I always do them anyway) Catherine Tate is among the best of the bunch. She relishes the campy cruelty of playing Carabosse, with an enviably callous vocal delivery. The show is dotted with appearances from some of her favourite characters; her sketch based on gay-denying Derek in the first Act doesn’t really work, but the appearance of am I bovvered Lauren near the end works very well, but the best moment in the show comes with Nan Taylor fronting the ensemble in a rousing rendition of Queen’s Don’t Stop Me Now. There’s no doubt that she received the biggest cheer from the audience.

Enormous fun and some tremendous routines – just a shame they spent so long getting going with all that tenth anniversary material! At time of writing there are just sixteen tickets left for the last five performances, as it closes on Sunday 11th January. But we are promised a new Panto for 2026-27, so hurrah for that!

4-starsFor They’re Jolly Good Fellows!

The Points of View Challenge – A Father-to-Be – Saul Bellow

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Saul Bellow (born Solomon Bellows; 1915 – 2005)

Canadian-American writer, best known for his novels The Adventures of Augie March, Herzog, and Mr. Sammler’s Planet, (each winning the National Book Award for Fiction), Henderson the Rain King, Seize the Day, Humboldt’s Gift, (which won the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction in 1976) and Ravelstein. A Father-to-Be was first published in The New Yorker on January 29th 1955 and in Seize the Day on November 15th 1956.

Available to read online here.

This is the last of eight stories in the volume Points of View to be given the style classification by Moffett and McElheny of Biography, or Anonymous Narration – Single Character Point of View. Their introduction concludes: “We have included a large number of selections in this group because this technique is the most widely used for telling a short story and very often used for telling a novel, especially in this century. Examples are Stendhal’s The Red and the Black, Hemingway’s For Whom the Bell Tolls and Marquand’s Point of No Return.”

Spoiler alert – if you haven’t read the story yet and want to before you read the summary of it below, stop now!

A Father-To-Be

On a snowy Sunday evening, 31-years-old research chemist Rogin is on his way to his fiancée Joan’s for supper. She had asked him to buy some items on the way, so he stops at a delicatessen to buy roast beef, shampoo and some other treats he thinks she might enjoy. He allows his mind to wander; thinking about how he has to give money both to Joan and to his brother to get him through college, then he observes the behaviour of the people in the delicatessen, and people on the subway as he starts his journey to Joan’s. There’s a man who thinks no one knows he drinks, two children from different families with the same toy, a dwarf whose sex he cannot determine, and a middle-aged man whose facial features reminded him of Joan. He takes an instant disliking to the man – and becomes upset as he realises he is how any son that Joan gives birth to will look like him. His anxieties escalate when he thinks of how the future could turn out, so much so that he considers ending his relationship with Joan. When he arrives at her home, he is initially frosty and grumpy, but Joan insists on washing his hair with the new shampoo, and this gentle, loving action calms him down so that his mind is once again at rest.

This is a very curious short story for two main reasons. First, very little happens. A man goes to his fiancée’s home via a delicatessen and the subway. Almost all the events of the journey happen in his mind. Second, our hero Rogin does not come across as a particularly pleasant person. True, he is generous, not worrying about the thirty dollars he gave Joan a few days ago, buying extras at the shop so that their supper will be more enjoyable, and we note that he pays for his brother’s college fees. But he is very judgmental; he mentally appraises and criticises all the people he meets and observes on his journey. Sometimes he compares them to himself, and always unfavourably.

Bellow’s concise writing is always effective and tells us more than we need to know. He encapsulates everything about Rogin in his first paragraph; not only his age and profession, but the eccentricities of his appearance (for example, his “preposterous gait”) and the fact that he wears a Burberry coat suggests his wealth. He also tells us exactly what the rest of the story will be about: “the strangest notions had a way of forcing themselves into Rogin’s mind”, and “he fell into a peculiar state”.

“Who is free […] who has no burdens?” Rogin asks himself, as he reflects on both the people around him and his own life. He likes to fantasise about inventions he could make – but doesn’t – and frets about his mother’s changing behaviour and condemns the secret drinker for believing he could fool anyone. He rehearses how he is going to compliment Joan when he meets her, as if he has to plan his spontaneity. He condemns the unthinking crowd because of “how they slept through life” and spends more time than he should trying to decide whether the subway passenger is male or female – something that should be of absolutely no concern to him at all.

But it’s when he allows his fanciful brain to expand on the character of the silent man to whom he takes an instant dislike that it actively does damage to the balance of his character. The title of story is A Father-to-be, but it’s not as though Rogin is shortly to become a father; there’s no evidence that Joan is pregnant, and indeed, it wouldn’t be something that would be acceptable in that time and in that social stratum. It’s just his imagination that, if he and Joan were to have children together, and did have a son, he fears he would grow up to resemble this man, about whom he makes the wildest judgments without knowing the first thing about him. To Rogin he is simply “flat-looking, with his ordinary, clean, rosy, uninteresting, self-satisfied, fundamentally bourgeois face.” “What a curse to have a dull son!” he concludes.

As a result, his demeanour has quite changed by the time he gets to Joan’s, but her loving touch and the possible religious symbolism of a hair-washing ritual – using the shampoo that is a “sweet, cool, fragrant juice” – puts all those damaging thoughts out of his mind. However, one does wonder whether those damaging thoughts are gone forever; and it’s curious to reflect on what kind of relationship he and Joan might have long-term. Will his fears of dull suburban existence come true, or will he just enjoy life for what it is?

Finely and precisely written, it’s a fascinating insight into the way one’s thoughts can wander and drift, and how easily it is to catastrophise. It definitely captures a recognisable moment and tells us more about the central character than he would ever want us to know.

The next story in the anthology is the first of three to be classified by Moffett and McElheny as Anonymous Narration – Dual Character Point of View, Maria Concepción by Katherine Anne Porter.