Monthly Archives: May 2016

Review – Nederlands Dans Theater 2, Birmingham Hippodrome, 3rd May 2016

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This was one of those no-brainer bookings. We haven’t seen NDT2 perform since 2007, having discovered them in 1997 and seen them seven times over the following decade. You could call them the youth faction of the Dutch National Dance Company, its performers being strictly limited to those aged between 18 and 23. After that they get promoted to the Premiership level of NDT1. And for those aged over 40, there’s an NDT3 too. Over the years we’ve seen them rise to the challenges of fantastic choreographers such as Jiri Kylian, Hans van Manen, Lightfoot Leon, Johan Inger, Ohad Naharin, and many others.

Paul Lightfoot, currently Artistic Director of Nederlands Dans Theater, is quoted in the programme as saying “we don’t do strong narrative works”. I read that in the first interval, having tried desperately hard to find a narrative in the first dance of the evening, Johan Inger’s I New Then. It was with some relief that I realised that Paul Lightfoot had already tacitly agreed with me that there wasn’t one. What was clear from the very start was that the quality of NDT2’s dancers is as amazing as it ever has been. Whether in the solos, or partner work, or as part of a full ensemble, the precision, the commitment, the athleticism and the sheer exuberance of each dancer is remarkable.

In an attempt to find the narrative (that wasn’t there), it seems to me that the strength of I New Then comes from the dualities of freedom of expression versus imprisonment, of control versus submission. Expect the unexpected with this dance; whether it be the sudden appearance of a forest of poles that you didn’t realise were there; or the slow undressing by two of the dancers (don’t worry, they don’t go all the way); or the abstract vocalising by one of the dancers as he witnesses this undressing, which takes on a life force of its own. Mrs Chrisparkle wasn’t convinced by this series of ohs that culminate in a shrieking sequence. Not that Guido Dutilh didn’t do it brilliantly (there’s a star in the making, for sure) or that the audience didn’t appreciate it – indeed many audience members were laughing their socks off. She just wasn’t sure of its relevance to the piece, other than simply finding a new way to do something different in the world of dance. But then she’s never been convinced of avant garde for avant garde’s sake. I understand where she’s coming from though – that aspect of that dance was perhaps a trifle tedious.

Our second dance of the night was Edward Clug’s mutual comfort (deliberately no capitals, apparently). Again, no point looking for a narrative; this dance for four people is characterised by a fascinating choreography that combines sparky, disjointed, and almost brutal actions with really smooth and silky moves. This was the first appearance that evening of the dancer Gregory Lau who struck me as being the company’s truly outstanding dancer of the night. But I also thought Katarina van den Wouwer danced superbly in this deceptively simple short piece – just eleven minutes. After a pause we were treated to a stunning performance of Hans van Manen’s Solo, where three dancers (ironically) all perform aspects of one character. It was an exceptional display, with Benjamin Behrends, Miguel Duarte and Gregory Lau all giving us immaculate spins, remarkable fluidity of movement and a true opportunity to show off their athleticism and power. Even though it’s only seven minutes long, afterwards Mrs C commented, “that was worth the ticket price alone”. It certainly was. A real tour de force.

The final dance of the night, occupying the traditional “crowd-pleaser” slot, was Alexander Ekman’s Cacti, a very tongue-in-cheek piece that deconstructs beautifully all that pompous pontificating by dance reviewers. Instantly full of high impact, as it starts with all sixteen dancers on the stage, perched on what appear to be recycled packing pallets, making as much noise as they like by tapping, patting, thumping and stomping around, not forgetting making all those gasps, sighs and other aspirations that us unfit people make when we’re overdoing the exercise. In other scenes these pallets are upended, with the dancers performing behind and partly on top of them, as if they were swimmers in a pallet sea, constantly creating visual jokes that work wonderfully well.

Interspersed with the exhilarating rhythms that really encourage the athletic dancing, there are some wonderfully po-faced spoken word tracks that try to dissect and make sense of the dance, always in the most riotously pompous way. At one stage, the opinion is voiced that the true power of the dance stems from the cacti themselves (yes there are real (or very good look alike) cacti as part of the performance. There’s another wonderful scene where you can hear an imaginary conversation between two dancers as they work their way through their routine, essentially providing a running commentary on what they’re doing, and whether they think any particular movement has intrinsic artistic merit. It’s all very funny and cleverly done. And who can forget the dead cat?

We didn’t stay for the Q&A session afterwards as we had a train to catch and it seemed very naughty being at large in Birmingham after 10pm on a school night. Thank you to Dance Consortium for bringing NDT2 back to our shores; we have missed them very much and it’s a thrill to see that they are as exciting and rewarding a watch as ever. They’re still to tour to Plymouth, Nottingham, Brighton and Sadler’s Wells – don’t miss the opportunity to catch them.

Review – Julian Clary, The Joy of Mincing, Derngate, Northampton, 30th April 2016

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This is the third or fourth time we’ve seen Julian Clary as a stand-up act. The first was way back in the 80s when Mrs Chrisparkle and I (she may even have been Miss Duncansby in those days) tackled the all-hallowed arena that was the Aylesbury Civic Centre, to see Mr C perform under the name of the Joan Collins Fan Club. Whenever his show comes around, we keep coming back, because he keeps on making us laugh – it’s as simple as that. He creates a fantastic rapport with the audience, who love to squirm at his double entendres and wallow in a sense of relief when he gets some other people up on stage and it’s not them.

This time around, it was clear that his material was a little more personal than usual. His monologues are littered with the phrase “and that’s a true story”, the majority of which you know are the precisely the opposite. But there are insights into his personal life which we haven’t seen before – living in Kent, partnered up, spending his time writing his children’s books (yes, I know, where did that come from?) as well as memories from the past.

We were privileged, when we first saw him perform, to be in the presence of Fanny the Wonder Dog. Julian remembers Fanny lovingly, and there’s always comic mileage to be gained associating the two. Fanny was eventually replaced by Valerie, whom, it appears, was a bit of a disappointment in pet performance terms. He gives us a long and funny routine recollecting his first, frosty encounter with The Joan Collins Herself; this was at the 2010 Hippodrome panto which we attended on one of the very many performances on which Miss Collins did not appear; but since then they have become besties. Mr C also recounts an excellent story of his hanging around the stage door at the Hippodrome and unwittingly involving himself in drug dealing. Not the kind of stuff that’s going to sell more children’s books, to be fair. And of course, he sings. Unforgettable, that’s what he is.

After the interval we go down the tried and tested scenario of Julian coercing three chaps from the audience to join him on stage. This time, the excuse is so that they may be invested with their MBEs – Mincers of the British Empire. He is an absolute star when it comes to this kind of interaction, reducing us all to tears with nearly unkind but not quite material about his victims. In order for them to be invested they have of course to be appropriately dressed, so they are sent offstage to be looked after by Julian’s assistant, Lesbian Bertha. Two return in appropriate regalia, not very butch but perfectly decent; the third – Chris the Engineer – is made to come out wearing nothing but a skimpy pair of pink hot pants. An entire audience salute you Chris, you took one for the team and the rest of us are so very, very grateful.

As we were walking back home after the show, a feeling of doubt entered our heads. In this day and age, is it appropriate for someone like Julian Clary to continue with his 1980s ridiculing of effeminate gay men? Just because he is one, and does it very well? It’s interesting to observe that the audience was overwhelmingly straight middle-aged/elderly couples who spend two hours laughing at “gay” things. Is his act now a trifle anachronistic? With his writing books for children, even Mr C himself is spreading his wings and starting to work in another area of the arts. This is just me thinking aloud, I haven’t come to any conclusions! After all, he remains extremely funny and everyone in the audience had a great time – even Chris the Engineer. His tour continues throughout May and he also returns for more in October and November. If you enjoy the typical Clary style, you’ll laugh your socks off.

Review – National Theatre Connections, Royal and Derngate, Northampton, 28th & 29th April 2016

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This is my first dip of the toe into the waters of the National Theatre Connections, but encouraged to take the plunge by my fellow partner in theatre-blogging crime Mr Smallmind, I thought I’d give it a go. If you don’t know what it’s all about, several local youth theatre groups participate in performing the same plays in many different parts of the country. I say “local” – some of these guys had come a very long way to perform for us, so thank you for that! It wasn’t possible for me to see all the plays on offer at the Royal and Derngate, but I saw five, which isn’t bad for a first attempt. It would have been six, except that Theatre Alba had to cancel their performance of Bassett, due to cast illness. Shame; get well soon!

Citizenship by Mark Ravenhill, performed by RAPA at the Royal Theatre, 28th April.

This is the first time I’ve seen a play by the celebrated Mark Ravenhill, but knowing his fondness for the odd bit of bad language (after all he did write Shopping and F***ing), I was a little concerned for the good morals and purity of the young people involved. I needn’t have worried. What a terrific little play and what a first rate performance from the entire company.

RAPA – I’m guessing – is the Rushden Academy Performing Arts. Many things stood out for me. The sensitivity with which the subject matter was handled – a 15-year-old boy trying to understand his sexuality – and how it was portrayed by the actors playing Tom and Amy was really impressive. The sheer professionalism of the actors; the lead roles of Tom, Amy and Gary brought huge understanding and emotion to their characters, as well as getting just the right amount of humour out of the text. You would not have known these were not professional actors. There were also some superbly performed scenes showing how some girls are born to be great mothers and some just aren’t!

But perhaps the most impressive aspect of the show was how well the company worked as an ensemble. The opening (silent) scene is a fantastic display of physical comedy between the cast, choreographically perfect to within an inch of each other; swift, precise, funny, story-telling, characterful, full of little victories and school bullying; a true delight. When anything went slightly wrong they coped with it brilliantly – one guy lost a shoe in one of the mock-fight scenes but he carried on as if nothing had happened and subtly put it back on at a good moment – that could have thrown a lesser actor. I was also very impressed with the confidence and adroitness with which the cast handled the boxes – that kind of prop/scenery handling isn’t as easy as it looks and they have it down to a fine art. Stunning work team, you did a fantastic job.

As an aside, in an audience made up of more than 95% sixth-formers, I was very surprised at the barely suppressed sounds of shock, horror and disgust that came from some of them at the sight of two guys kissing. I would have thought young adults today (particularly those interested in the theatre) would have been more grown-up about such things.

Take Away by Jackie Kay, performed by BEA Theatre Company, in the Underground, 28th April.

To this group of aspiring actors, I give you this constructive feedback. OK kids, here’s the deal: If you’re going to the effort to put on a play, and ask the general public to pay to come and see it, there are some rules you have to follow. 1) learn the lines; 2) know your positions; 3) when things go wrong, cover it up and move on; 4) if you’re occupying chairs by the side of the stage whilst you’re not “on stage”, maintain personal discipline by sitting still and silently; and 5) don’t give up after five minutes and giggle your way through the rest of the performance like you’re in the playground. Above all, don’t make your audience cringe with so much embarrassment that they want the earth to open up and swallow them. I understand that for reasons outside of the cast’s control there were some late-in-the-day changes which inevitably meant it was under-rehearsed. But even so, there’s no excuse for not taking it seriously in front of a paying audience.

Eclipse by Simon Armitage, performed by Northampton High School, at the Royal Theatre, 28th April.

Simon Armitage is the Oxford Professor of Poetry, so I went in to the show hoping for something rather classically erudite. The play was commissioned by the National Theatre for the Connections programme back in 1996, and was inspired by the real-life disappearance of a girl during the solar eclipse. Top marks here for the professionalism in preparing a programme (the only one of the five shows to do so) – makes the life of a reviewer so much easier!

I must confess I didn’t really like the play itself very much. As a modern verse drama, it felt a bit pretentious and rather stylised – just not my style I’m afraid. However, there were some very enjoyable performances. Georgina Balderstone in particular gave a very strong performance as Lucy Lime, the girl who disappears. Full of character, benefiting from her very clear and well projected speaking voice, and appearing naturally very comfortable on the stage – a fine stage presence. Amy Goldup was also very strong as Klondike, the natural leader of “the gang”, very accurate and natural with her speech patterns and conversational style. I also really enjoyed the performance of Shona Guha as Glue Boy, bringing out all the humour of the character’s drug-fuelled state. If I have a criticism, it would be that they weren’t sufficiently au fait with the prop handling and scenery layout, which caused a few minor crises and collisions along the way – including an unexpectedly hilarious moment when a member of the cast repositioned a table on which she was placing items, forgetting that, to us, that table was a huge boulder. But that’s just a matter of more rehearsal. Overall a very good performance of a not-very-easy play.

The Musicians by Patrick Marber, performed by St Swithun’s School, in the Underground, 28th April.

I’m glad to have finally got the chance to see The Musicians, because we were originally scheduled to see the R&D Youth Company perform it in February – but it clashed with the UK’s National Final at Eurovision. Sorry, Youth Company; I will see you again some time, promise. The Musicians was written in 1994 and is a charming little play about a British school orchestra performing at a culture festival in Moscow – only problem is, their instruments have been seized by Customs. Get out of that one if you can.

It was a very enjoyable production, high on humour if a little sparse on theatricality. Much of the drive comes from the antagonistic relationship but later respectful friendship between Roland, the conductor and Alex, the cleaner; and the two actors took on these roles with spirit. But I most enjoyed the performance of the character (didn’t catch the name I’m afraid) of the girl who idolises Roland and looks up to him at every opportunity. She gave a great comic performance, especially when she throws herself on the floor in self-disgust because it’s her fault the instruments have been impounded. From a story-telling perspective, it wasn’t entirely clear to me what happened in the concert. Did they just mime to a recording? Or did they mime silently? The character who says she made a mistake made a great job of that very funny line. I also didn’t entirely understand why Alex was lauded as a hero so much at the end. I was paying attention, honest. I’m unsure whether those little problems were caused by the direction, or the acting, or both. Oh, and kudos to the group for going for a sophisticated professional-style curtain call!

Gargantua by Carl Grose, performed by Foundations Youth Theatre, at the Royal Theatre, 29th April.

Foundations Youth Theatre can’t half get a lot of people on stage at one time! When we entered the auditorium, there were already dozens of actors, sprawled out over the floor, their hands quivering to the beat of some portentous music. The Prime Minister was mistaking his cabinet member for “Doris”, they were trying to get him to remember the secret code to prevent a nuclear war, and there was a vast big baby balloon bobbing up and down in the background. Confused? Maybe, but thoroughly delighted too, as this huge surreal melting pot of nonsense had me giggling from the start.

I really loved the inventive use of balloons throughout the performance – someone with very adept fingers had made them into a film camera, a doctor’s stethoscope, military weapons; in fact, almost every prop was made from balloonery. Well done to everyone for keeping them under control, because balloons have a habit of slipping out of place, but the prop handling was perfect. Also, congratulations to the guys who, War Horse-like, discreetly and expertly puppeteered the big baby into position and operated its hands and legs so efficiently that you didn’t notice them pulling the strings. Nice work.

As well as all the great ensemble scenes, where everyone knew their places and dovetailed with each other perfectly, there were some super individual performances too. No programme, so I don’t know anyone’s names, so I’ll have to refer to them by their characters. I really enjoyed the portrayal of Regina, the hectoring building developer, all northern bluff and bully; she brought a terrific stage presence and characterisation to the show. Mr and Mrs Mungus provided a genuine touch of tenderness to the roles of new parents and finely played their parts as straight as possible so that the ironic humour shone out. Dr Lucky approached his role with relish – he had something of the James Acaster about him; politician Pippa also has a great physical presence, delivered her lines with an excellent variety of emphasis, and she also gave the Prime Minister the most convincing slap. The PM and his adviser cronies were very amusing, and I also enjoyed the pomposity of the TV reporter. Last, but not least, congratulations to the guys who sang the baby’s lullaby – very nicely done, with a good balance of absurd humour and musicality. But all the cast turned in a sterling performance, and you could feel, as a member of the audience, that everyone sitting around you really enjoyed it. Great stuff.

So if this were a drama festival and I had to pick one “winner”, out of those five I would narrowly give it to RAPA for Citizenship but with Foundations Youth Theatre’s Gargantua a very creditable second. I really enjoyed my first Connections experience, and will certainly look out for it again next year. In the meantime, I would estimate that over the last two days I saw at least seven young actors who gave really impressive, sophisticated and virtually flawless performances and I look forward to seeing them again on fresh stages and in new roles in the future. Best of luck to everyone involved!