Review – The Merchant of Venice 1936, Royal Shakespeare Company at the Swan Theatre, Stratford-upon-Avon, 26th September 2023

Posted on September 27, 2023 by therealchrisparkle

If you’re going to update Shakespeare, you might as well go for broke. And that’s exactly what Brigid Larmour and Tracy-Ann Oberman have done with their reimagined Merchant of Venice, produced by Watford Palace Theatre and Home Manchester, in association with the RSC. They have set it in the East End of London at the time of the Battle of Cable Street in 1936; this was the march organised by Oswald Mosley’s British Union of Fascists, designed to intimidate the people living in an area that contained a large number of Jewish and other immigrants. Up to 5,000 Blackshirts, maybe 7,000 police and innumerable counter-protestors clashed on the streets, and it’s considered to be the turning point where 1930s British fascism began its downfall.

Given that this took place less than ninety years ago, it is extraordinary how it has been largely forgotten or indeed, never learned by most of the population; and this production serves a very useful purpose in bringing it back into our minds. It intertwines superbly well with Shakespeare’s play, with Antonio and his friends adopting the roles of BUF activists, Portia seen as a Diana Mitford-type character, and Shylock as a Jewish outsider, emblematic of what the fascists would regard as everything that’s wrong with the country. And it’s more relevant today than ever; the news radio on the drive home after the show reported a speech by the Home Secretary that was described by an interviewee as being further to the right than anything ever said by the British National Party in its heyday.

At just two hours running time including an interval, the play is, by necessity, heavily cut. But it’s not a brutal cut; it’s a sensitive cut, keeping all the essential themes, plot threads and great speeches. Shakespeare must have sat back and congratulated himself on a good day at the office having written about The Quality of Mercy, All that Glisters is not Gold, and Hath not a Jew Eyes. Antonio, Bassanio, Gratiano, Portia and of course Shylock are all well-written, memorable characters, and this is without doubt one of Shakespeare’s Big Plays.

Unfortunately, one of the major problems with The Merchant of Venice to a modern audience is not so much the exploration of antisemitism, but the plot content of Act Five. It feels like the whole story is wrapped up after Shylock gets his (her, in this instance) come-uppance for not showing that aforementioned quality of mercy. Thus the final scenes concerning how Bassanio and Gratiano have given away their rings to “complete strangers” often appear as an afterthought – but are necessary to give way to the usual happy ever after Shakespearean comedy ending. In this production, aligning so strongly 1930s fascism with the story of Shylock and those general themes of antisemitism, racism and othering, this ending seems all the more superfluous; even though they rattle through it at breakneck speed. For me, the final scene, where the ensemble reveal their They Shall Not Pass protest on Cable Street, comes as a rather disjointed add-on. However, the cynic in me admired the device of ensuring a standing ovation at the end.

With strong use of vintage footage of the Blackshirts and newspaper headlines of the time projected on to the backdrop, Liz Cooke’s design brings you firmly into the drab, grey East End, although Portia’s glamorous outfit makes a superb contrast. The three caskets laid out on the basic kitchen trolley provide a nice visual suggestion of the idea of a stark choice, and the graffiti on Shylock’s door tells its own story.

The idea of making Shylock female is integral to the entire directorial vision of the play. Her characterisation was inspired by Tracy-Ann Oberman’s own great-grandmother, an immigrant to London from Russia to work in a factory. When you change the gender of a well-known character it inevitably makes you see that character in a new way, and this is no exception. This Shylock is a matriarch, proud and protective of her family, and even more of an outsider being a woman in a man’s world. It disgusts her to have to interact with the likes of Antonio, who has publicly reviled her in the past and avowed he will probably do so in the future, Still, business is business, and sometimes you just have to trade with your enemies. Tracy-Ann Oberman’s performance is simply a knock-out. Her presence, her expressions, the glare of her eyes, her pride, her resilience and her eventual defeat are all perfectly pitched – plus she adopts a powerful, alienating foreign accent which exemplifies her otherness. She is just superb.

I also enormously enjoyed Raymond Coulthard’s performance as both Antonio and Arragon. His Antonio is dignified, controlled, suppressed, and resigned; you almost forget he’s a fascist. As Arragon he gives us a splendid comic turn as the vain, flowery prince; more believable than a mere fop but truly wallowing in the sound of his own voice. Xavier Starr gives a terrific professional debut as Gratiano, his height emphasising a kind of lofty condescension and upper class bonhomie, but he descends into the gutter with his superbly delivered antisemitic vitriol. Hannah Morrish impresses as a rather aloof and superior Portia, later taking the guise of a very no-nonsense lawyer. There’s also excellent support from Gavin Fowler as Bassanio and Jessica Dennis as Nerissa and Mary Gobbo.

Brevity is the soul of wit, and the comparatively short running time for this production enormously helps in keeping the pace up and captivating our interest completely. If you’re expecting any kind of traditional production you may be disappointed, but this new slant is totally justified and brings a whole new insight into the play. Not perfect, but full of wow factor. After the production leaves the Swan on 7^th October, the tour continues to High Wycombe, Malvern, Bromley, Cardiff, Wilton’s Music Hall, York, Chichester and Manchester, and returns to Stratford for another three weeks in January 2024.

Production photos by Marc Brenner

Four They’re Jolly Good Fellows!

Review – The Comedy Crate Presents Troy Hawke Work in Progress, The Charles Bradlaugh, Northampton, 24th September 2023

Posted on September 25, 2023 by therealchrisparkle

Where would comedians be without the opportunity to present a Work in Progress show? The chance to try out some new material with a willing, eager audience who let you know just how funny you’ve been by the volume of their laughter – or indeed by the silence of their response. Troy Hawke had already taken a new jumble of comic ideas to this year’s Edinburgh Fringe for a few nights to sort the wheat from the chaff, in preparation for next year’s no doubt bumper blockbuster show. And on Sunday night he visited the humble folk of Northampton to give us a sneaky peek into what he’s got up his satin sleeve.

Troy Hawke is well on his way to becoming a national treasure, if he isn’t already there. Elegantly decked out en smoking, he embodies that terrific comic ability to combine refinement and poise with unexpectedly cracking punchlines, or varying his delivery from sophisticated Surrey to excitable Scouse. He effortlessly gets to know a few members of the audience, confiding in them, complimenting them (if appropriate), and, perhaps surprisingly, eliciting one couple’s safe word – yellow! (which, alarmingly, was the colour of his shirt).

The nub of his new show concerns small talk – what it really means, how it happens, and how to cope with having to do it. On the way we meet football legends Jan Molby and Jack Grealish, gain an insight into scrabble scores and discover what Troy really thinks of psychiatrists. As you might expect, there’s a good dollop of Greeters’ Guild anecdotes, as he spreads what can only be described as pure Troy outside a TK Maxx. He still needs to work up a proper ending – which is almost always a common theme with WIP progress shows – but it was a brilliant hour packed with comedy gold.

Review – The Comedy Crate at the Charles Bradlaugh, Northampton, 14th September 2023

Posted on September 15, 2023 by therealchrisparkle

It’s back for another big dollop of laughter at the Charles Bradlaugh, courtesy of those nice people at the Comedy Crate. It’s always exciting when all the acts are new to us, because the evening becomes a smorgasbord of unexpected delights. Our host for the evening was Alex Farrow, a smart super-confident chap who quickly gains a terrific rapport with the audience, and quickly elicited the fact that we were all rich beyond the dreams of avarice – well, it may have seemed that way at least. But there can’t be that many people who have access to two yachts! Very quick witted, he bounced off all the comedy nuggets that the audience gave him, and kept the show moving at an enjoyably fast pace. I made a note in my brain that we must catch his full solo show one day.

First up was Steve Hall, whose material is firmly based on his family life with his no-nonsense wife and two delightful children, who have discovered the art of homemade tattoos. There are lots of very recognisable family-based comic observations, many of which are illustrated with pictures including life from his own childhood as well as his own kids. If this sounds a little cosy, it’s peppered with many surprisingly sharp moments and there’s lots of big laugh-out-loud punchlines. An excellent start to the evening.

Next came Kathryn Mather who has wisely moved on from being a children’s entertainer. She has a nicely awkward stage persona and an excellent use of self-deprecation, talking about her lack of success with men and some entertaining stories about trying to attract the opposite sex. We hear about her (slightly predictable) encounter with the Dreamboys, and the perils of speed dating. From the sound of the laughter there was lots for women to recognise, if not quite so much for the guys. But she went down very well with the audience.

Our headliner act, and someone whose career we will definitely follow with interest, was Sarah Keyworth, a naturally funny comedian who mines comedy gold from her appearance and sexuality in an effortlessly hilarious way. She delivered not only the best pronouns gag out there, but also the best definition of non-binary, which had us all in hysterics. She has a marvellous running thread about being in a lesbian foursome, including the obligations one would feel about being the perfect host whilst entertaining three other women, and a brilliant sequence about inviting a male stripper to a hen party in a caravan in Devon. She completely blew us away with her superb audience interaction – occasionally checking in with second-row John to make sure it was going ok – and pinpoint perfect material. Another excellent night of comedy.

Review – Macbeth, RSC at the Royal Shakespeare Theatre, Stratford-upon-Avon, 11th September 2023

Posted on September 12, 2023 by therealchrisparkle

When I saw that the Royal Shakespeare Company’s new production of Macbeth was scheduled to run for over three hours, my heart sank. This is Shakespeare’s second shortest play after Comedy of Errors; so how on earth are they going to make it last three hours? I’m sure when I saw Judi Dench and Ian McKellen at the Young Vic in 1978 they did it in little over two hours. Mind you, that was the production where Dame Judi rattled through Lady Macbeth’s letter scene so rapidly that they dubbed it the telegram scene.

My heart sank further when I discovered that the porter scene was to be rewritten by Stewart Lee “because it’s not funny anymore and no one gets the jokes”. I don’t consider myself that much of a Shakespeare purist but there are limits. I was reminded of Julie Walters in the Victoria Wood sketch where the Piecrust Players are staging Hamlet. She pulls Ophelia up on her words: “That lovely line, there’s Rosemary, that’s for remembrance – it’s no good bunging a few herbs about saying don’t mind me I’m a loony. This is our marvellous bard – you cannot paraphrase.” The porter’s scene does indeed pose problems and frequently doesn’t work – but occasionally it does, if you do it really, really well. And that’s one of the challenges of staging this play.

However, having seen the show I happily confess both my reasons for heart-sinking were unfounded. Yes, this is quite a slow Macbeth, but not in a dull, laborious way. It takes the opportunity to dwell upon the silent moments in the play; the actions of the witches, the atmospheric eerie portents of the castle and the ghostly visions, not to mention the drawn-out personal battle to the death between Macbeth and Macduff. The densely packed speeches are delivered thoughtfully and respectfully, at a measured pace, allowing us all to appreciate the language and its meaning. It’s so easy to get lost in a Shakespeare production when the actors race through the words so quickly that you don’t know what’s going on. But that doesn’t happen here; the production’s careful tempo keeps the audience sticking with it all the way through.

And as for the rewritten porter’s scene; if you’re going to do something differently you might as well go the whole hog. I thought I was either going to hate it or love it; in fact, I did neither. The porter is now re-imagined as a stand-up comedian, with the obligatory microphone stand and compere introduction, addressing today’s audience with a 100% wall-breaking routine that comments on the news, politicians, and on the students watching the play for GCSE research. In a striking moment of disrespecting the audience, she mischievously gives the game away by telling us that Macbeth dies in the end. When she starts to engage Macduff and Lennox in conversation (as in Shakespeare’s original) it’s their turn to go off-piste and complain about things like woke productions and having a black actor play Othello – whatever next?

For the most part, the new sequence is pretty funny, and the audience hooted all the way through it. Apparently, there are explicit performances and non-explicit performances, depending on the date, which relate to the content of the porter’s script. We saw a non-explicit performance; but, to be honest, I don’t see the point of pussyfooting here. If you’re going to make a big splash with an innovative and offensive scene, don’t hold back. Personally, I thought it could have gone even more outrageous. However, the rewritten scene does weaken the motif of knocking in the play. It’s a relentless buzzer that disturbs the porter rather than the usual knock knock knocking, and it recurs on a few other occasions, which removes that sense of fate knocking at Macbeth’s door, or knocking at his conscience. I’m not sure a buzzing quite does the same trick.

Wils Wilson’s production truly excels in conveying a classic, eerie, dark atmosphere. Dead birds fall from the sky, discordant clangs reverberate from the on-stage musicians, rain pours down. The witches first appear as almost half-formed pupae oozing out of a hole on the stage. There’s also an artificiality that also lends a discomforting air. It’s an almost entirely bloodless production; Banquo’s ghost is a vision of pallor, Lady Macduff’s babies are puppets that get tossed between murderers until you hear an audible crack of their necks and they’re dispatched into binbags. The unwashable blood on Lady Macbeth’s hands is suggested by a red light up her sleeve. Dead bodies are calmly coaxed up and walk off the stage at the invitation of the witches. On the whole, the production doesn’t do histrionics; Macbeth’s speeches are frequently fragile, Lady M’s criticisms of her husband’s perceived weakness are quietly underplayed, and Macduff’s shock at the loss of his pretty chickens renders him almost speechless.

As you might expect, there is some trademark Royal Shakespeare Company gender-shifting amongst some of the roles, usually an opportunity to question your traditional understanding of those characters. Having the porter as a woman and one of the witches as a man works nicely. However, in other areas the concept doesn’t fully flow quite so easily for a couple of reasons. Duncan is now Queen of Scotland – even though Duncan is clearly a male name, she is definitely a woman. Banquo is also a woman, as is the unseen Thane of Cawdor, until she is executed. However, Malcolm is still a male character, even though he is played by a woman, so there’s a lack of consistency there. Perhaps even more of a problem, this production sites women in positions of power with Duncan at the top and Banquo and Cawdor as solid supporting officers; so there’s absolutely no need for Lady Macbeth to bend over backwards to encourage her husband to take the Scottish throne – she could just as easily do it herself.

Reuben Joseph is a rather reserved and controlled Macbeth, prone to flashes of petulance revealing a deep-down fragility and a tendency towards mental disorder that becomes more quickly apparent than in most productions. It’s an intelligent and calm reading of the part. For our performance, Lady Macbeth was played by Eilidh Loan, with another restrained and unhysterical characterisation, quietly dominating her husband, but primarily allowing the text to do the hard work – all whilst still retaining her usual role as a witch too, which is some feat! Anna Russell-Martin’s Banquo is a hearty soul, and Therese Bradley plays Duncan with a sunny and beneficent disposition. Amber Sylvia Edwards and Dylan Read are the other two intriguing and spooky witches, and there’s a terrific supporting performance from George Anton as Macduff – noble, respected, and thoroughly persistent. And Alison Peebles makes the role of the porter very much her own, full of cantankerous glaring and sarcasm. At our show there were a number of roles performed by understudies, and the quality of some of the performances was perhaps a little patchy as a result – but you can’t fault that level of commitment.

But it’s not the performances that linger in the mind with this production, it’s with the ominous sense of fear and eeriness where it truly succeeds. It’s a cunning blend of the traditional and the innovative, and although it may lack a little in drive and authenticity, it conjures a very powerful atmosphere.

Production photos by Marc Brenner.

Three-sy Does It!

The Points of View Challenge – Johnny Bear – John Steinbeck

Posted on September 8, 2023 by therealchrisparkle

John Ernst Steinbeck (1902 – 1968)

American novelist, and writer of short stories, non-fiction and film screenplays.

Johnny Bear, first published in the collection The Long Valley in 1938.

Available to read online here – and you can hear John Steinbeck reading it here.

This is the fourth and last story in the volume Points of View to be given the style classification by Moffett and McElheny of Memoir, or Observer Narration. From their introduction: “Memoir, or observer narration, is the hinge between autobiography and biography, first-person and third-person narration. In it we can see clearly the channels of information and the personal ties which disappear from the text when the narrator no longer identifies himself.”

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

Johnny Bear

Our unnamed narrator has arrived in the Californian village of Loma to work on constructing a ditch through a swamp, reclaiming the land for planting crops. He’s not local, so rents a room at Mrs Ratz’ house, and the only social activity there is in the evenings is to go drinking whisky at the Buffalo Bar, run by a lugubrious but charismatic man known as Fat Carl. The narrator has met a local girl, Mae Romero, but it’s just at the friendship stage. He has also befriended Alex Hartnell, who owns one of the local farms. One night in the bar, Johnny Bear walks in. He is a big, clumsy, unkempt man; the locals think of him as a half-wit. But he has a skill; he can remember and recite overheard conversations with pinpoint accuracy of both the words and voice – he has a remarkable ability to imitate. His trick is to come into the bar and ask someone to buy him a whisky, and the more he drinks, the more he recites these conversations. On their first meeting, he recites the conversation our narrator had previously had with Mae, much to the former’s embarrassment and the amusement of his friend Alex.

Obviously, Johnny Bear deliberately spies on people to hear what they are saying. On another occasion he relays a conversation between Miss Emalin and Miss Amy, the Hawkins sisters, known as the local aristocracy. Alex is upset at this; these sisters represent everything that’s good about Loma and feels they should be treated with respect. As their conversations become more wildly known, it becomes apparent that Amy’s mental health is deteriorating badly. One day the news permeates through that she has taken her own life. Johnny Bear comes into the bar and starts to reveal the final conversations she had with both Emalin and the doctor; and in attempt to protect the memory of Amy from scandal, Alex lands Johnny Bear a punch that stops him in his tracks, which escalates to a full brawl also involving Fat Carl and the narrator. In the end, we discover the vital fact that Johnny Bear was about to reveal, but Alex thinks the other people in the bar won’t have heard it.

It’s an engrossing read, with well-developed characters and a richly imagined environment so that the whole story rings true. Alex is motivated by his wish to preserve the dignity and reputation of two respectable women, whose integrity contributes so much to the good standing of the community. If it means having to descend to physical violence against an oaf who knows no better, then sobeit. In addition, it offends Alex’s values because Emalin and Amy were always kind and generous towards Johnny Bear, giving him food and clothes. But Johnny Bear doesn’t have the emotional intelligence to distinguish between repeatable conversations and unrepeatable ones. If they result in him being bought a whisky, then he’ll do it.

Alex’s actions also highlight a social unbalance, however, in that it’s unacceptable to treat these women in the way that Johnny Bear does, but having him mimicking the narrator’s private conversation, who is working class, a stranger, and without a good name to uphold, is fair game. Johnny Bear is a typical Steinbeck creation, very much in the mould of Lennie from Of Mice and Men; his gift is to speak the truth indiscriminately, whether everyone else wants to hear it or not.

I learned a new word – fumadiddle! Fat Carl is said to be not a fan of them. According to the Oxford English Dictionary, it’s a variant of flumadiddle, a mid-19^th century name for a dish made from stale bread, pork fat, molasses, and spices, baked in the oven. This came to mean nonsense, humbug, something trivial or ridiculous.

The next story in the anthology is the first of eight classified by Moffett and McElheny as biography, or anonymous narration – single character point of view, Patricia Edith and Arnold by Dylan Thomas.

Review – Never Have I Ever, Minerva Theatre, Chichester, 2nd September 2023

Posted on September 7, 2023 by therealchrisparkle

We wrapped up our bumper Chichester day on Saturday with a visit to the Minerva Theatre and the second preview of Deborah Frances-White’s new play Never Have I Ever. You know that drinking game? … Or perhaps, my more salubrious readers, you don’t. The idea is that you say Never Have I Ever and you pick an activity that you haven’t done, but anyone who has done it takes a drink. And then it’s the next person’s turn, and so on and so on, ad ebrietatem. As you can guess, it’s probably not a game you should play if you’re not 100% confident in your fellow players.

Tobin has invested money – a lot of money – in Kas and Jacq’s restaurant. Nearly two years in, Kas and Jacq have admitted defeat and are pulling the plug on the business. They’ve invited Tobin and his wife Adaego around for dinner in the restaurant to break the news that he’s lost all his cash. However, Tobin is made of money; will he be furious, or will he take it in his stride? And what happens when they take to the bottles and start playing Never Have I Ever? It’s not going to end happily, is it? “It’s just like Indecent Exposure“, more than one of my theatregoing companions said to each other.

It’s a terrific starting point for a play and Ms Frances-White has created four very dynamic characters to place at loggerheads with each other. The four were all friends from university although Tobin was by far the oldest and was working in France whilst the others were still studying and – by the sound of it – drinking heavily. The play is also, at times, extremely funny with some stand-out comedy lines which you might expect, given the writer’s experiences as a stand-up comic.

However, the play tries to take so many themes and deal with so many problems that it doesn’t really succeed in reaching any conclusions about any of them. Loyalty, trust, power, exploitation, forgiveness, privilege and revenge all play a part in this story, so it gets very intense, and as a result, sometimes the writing becomes heavy-handed and unsubtle. There are also a lot of quick scene changes designed to suggest the inevitable worsening of behaviour and increased outrageousness that a night on the vino brings – but they create an odd, stop-start sort of atmosphere, preventing the natural flow of the storytelling and character development.

Frankie Bradshaw’s set is the epitome of East London restaurant chic, each table fitted out with its own cooking range – that was the restaurant’s USP – an individual chef per table, no wonder it didn’t make money. Separating the stage floor from the theatre floor are hundreds of wine bottles, stacked around like the most enticing cellar ever, assisted by some terrific mood lighting courtesy of Ryan Day’s lighting design, which also flashes, every so often, into some very groovy, hallucinatory effects during scene changes.

All four performances are superb. Greg Wise is brilliant as Tobin, all avuncular bluster, bonhomie and woke-and-proud-of-it; until he discovers some news that he’d preferred to have not to known and then the change in his character becomes darkly sinister. Susan Wokoma’s Adaego is super-confident, comfortable in her skin, pushing the way forward for other women of colour. Alex Roach’s Jacq is rather cynical, working through anger management issues and prepared to think outside the box. Amit Shah plays Kas as unassuming, practical and placatory – but only to an extent; he, too, has a massive secret to get off his chest. The four work together tremendously well to get the best out of the outlandish predicament that Ms Frances-White has created for them, and deliver those great lines with terrific comic panache.

I came away from the play wishing it had been written in a slightly subtler way. It certainly doesn’t shy away from some serious moral issues, but it does come down heavily on one side of the argument/predicament, whereas in real life I think there are more shades of grey going on here than the writing suggests. The person who has two reasons to be angry and consider themselves the wronged party is the person who becomes the baddie; it reminded me of Shylock, seeking punishment greater than the crime merits. It’s a play with loads to think about and plenty to laugh at, but it does get pretty hectic at times. To reiterate, the performance we saw was a preview but I doubt it has changed much over the last three days.

Production photos by Helen Murray

Three-sy does it!

Review – Falkland Sound, Royal Shakespeare Company at the Swan Theatre, Stratford-upon-Avon, 5th September 2023

Posted on September 6, 2023 by therealchrisparkle

The Falkland conflict; I remember it so well. I turned 22 during those alarming 74 days in 1982, and if it had escalated to full-scale extended war, I would have been ripe for conscription. Everyone watched and waited; hanging on every word reported by the Ministry of Defence’s Ian McDonald’s daily TV updates, gripped by Brian Hanrahan’s journalism: I counted them all out and I counted them all back. The nation was divided when the Belgrano was sunk as it was sailing away from the exclusion zone – your attitude towards it basically depended on whether you were a fan of Thatcher. It was the era of Gotcha! and Stick it up your Junta! And of course, the conflict was Thatcher’s golden key to No. 10 for the next eight years.

Rather than concentrating on the conflict’s effects on Thatcher and her government, Brad Birch’s new play tells the story of the Falkland Islanders themselves; their way of life, their environment, their national attachments (to Britain, and by nature of location, to Argentina), their relationships, their work, their leisure. 8,000 miles is a long way away, and few Brits ever get to visit the Falklands, so any extra insight into this loyal community is always welcome. Although they still had access to the pop music of the time, it still seems a world apart; letters take ages to arrive, and the prospect of coming to Britain to study is just a pipe dream for most. Still, if your boss is kindly disposed, he might allow you to let off steam with the occasional two-nighter, which sounds like the maddest hangover experience ever.

This is a bold attempt to remind ourselves of the conflict and also that the Falklands are still there, still part of Britain, and still loyal. The characterisations of the islanders are both creative and powerful, with much of the narrative coming from two outsiders – John, who has arrived from England as a teacher, and Gabriel who works at a scientific research establishment and is Argentinian. The experiences they share with us, both concerning their day-to-day lives before the invasion and how they survived both the occupation and the liberation, are told with moving realism and sensitivity.

However, these scenes are also juxtaposed with life back in Britain, where the Conservative government was very unpopular and Tory grandees were looking for a way to make Mrs Thatcher look good again – and the Falklands invasion was the perfect opportunity. However, these scenes are depicted in a completely different way; unlike the realism of the Falklanders, the government figures are caricatures. They don’t even have names, just numbers, and there’s an almost pantomime-like ridiculousness to the way they behave. As a result, for me, the UK scenes are much less successful than the Falklands scenes.

There’s also the problem that, with a lot to say, Brad Birch’s play gets very wordy and rather heavy going at times; to the extent that I found some of the narratives rather difficult to follow, with so many characters involved, including those who are not actually portrayed on stage, so there’s a lot of reported activity and conversation. As the play progresses, the writing improves as Mr Birch can concentrate on the immediate issue at hand – the arrival of the British troops and the recapture of the islands. But overall, the play does feel a bit chewy and long.

I wasn’t sure about the music; not so much the local playing at the drinking get-togethers, but more why the characters would break into the occasional rendition of, for example, Supertramp’s Goodbye Stranger or Spandau Ballet’s Gold. And it didn’t really aid our understanding of the play to have the islanders regularly picking up their buildings – houses, church, shop, etc – and moving them around the stage. I think the idea was to indicate whereabouts in Port Stanley each scene was set; but in reality it’s just a distraction.

There are some very good performances – Tom Milligan’s John and Eduardo Arcelus’ Gabriel stand out, as does Joanne Howarth’s Mrs Hargreaves and her impressive Mrs Thatcher impersonation. Joe Usher is excellent as Robbie, the British soldier who basically represents the entire British army. At our performance Oliver Hembrough who plays Geoff/Dad was indisposed and assistant director Mariana Aristizabal Pardo stood in, presumably at very short notice, and enabled the performance to go ahead – so three cheers to her!

A fine attempt to tell this important and still relevant story, and it’s a fascinating insight into the lives of the islanders themselves. It’s a little heavy, a little slow, and a little inconsistent. But there’s much more that’s good about it than isn’t.

Production photos by Ellie Kurttz

Three-sy does it!

Review – The Sound of Music, Festival Theatre, Chichester, 2nd September 2023

Posted on September 4, 2023 by therealchrisparkle

No sooner were Mrs Chrisparkle and I back from our four weeks at the Edinburgh Fringe, we were off to Chichester for a weekend of (hopefully!) top quality entertainment at those terrific theatres. And, late to the party, we started off with the last Saturday matinee of the run of Adam Penford’s production of Rodgers and Hammerstein’s The Sound of Music. It’s ended now, but I’m sure it had a very successful run. As soon as you knew this was to be Chichester’s summer big show offering, you knew it was going to be a crowd pleaser. And Saturday afternoon’s audience was packed to the gunwales, with lots of kids all starting their journeys as the theatregoers of tomorrow, which is always great to see.

Robert Jones’s design is perhaps a little heavy on the ecclesiastical side, with grey abbey windows and arches which deftly slide in and out. An ornate front door and mansion frontage is wheeled into place to suggest the von Trapp residence, which seems very grand indeed. However, you never get a feel for those rolling meadows of green and the Alpine peaks that lurk just outside the abbey that were so important to the young Maria; and indeed, when we first see her she emerges from beneath the stage via a trap laying down in the glorious sunshine, appreciating God’s glorious scenery, whilst supine, not on a verdant bank, but on an expanse of grey. Fortunately, Matt Samer’s orchestra bathes us in musical sunshine throughout the show, which makes up for the lack of colour variety.

The production itself is extremely classy and hits the right level of emotional engagement. I know I was not the only person in our party who noticed a tinge of moisture in their eye when the Captain melted at the sight (and sound) of his children singing (excellent melting from Edward Harrison in the role); the actual sound of music has a symbolic significance in this show, representing freedom, happiness, and love, as opposed to the self-repression that the Captain inflicted on himself and his children, and the oppression that would follow under the Nazis.

The production follows the original 1959 stage show reasonably faithfully, rather than the more familiar 1965 film, so expect My Favourite Things to come much earlier than you expect, The Lonely Goatherd has no puppet show, I Have Confidence is missing, and the nuns don’t get to scupper the Nazis cars at the end. The only change is that Something Good, originally written for the film, appears in Act Two instead of the lesser known An Ordinary Couple.

I always think that you can judge a production of The Sound of Music by how well it reflects the Nazi threat. For the Salzburg Singing Contest scene, Nazi banners unfurl and drop down from the ceiling all around the stage, and SS Officers appear spotlighted standing amongst the audience members, which is a very threatening sight. When the family are hiding at the abbey and the Nazi officers come to hunt them down, lights and shadows add to the tension and anxiety of the scene. I never found it credible that Rolf saw the family but didn’t give the game away; he was a very ambitious young Nazi and he owed nothing to any of the von Trapps apart from Liesl. If he had captured them, he would have been given great preferment. Still; maybe love can defeat a swastika after all.

The production benefited from some terrific performances. Gina Beck is excellent as Maria; her voice is clear and rich, her playfulness with the children (and indeed the Captain) is very nicely done, and her interaction with the other nuns works a treat. Janis Kelly as the Mother Abbess has an amazing voice and puts all her operatic heart and soul into the performance of Climb Ev’ry Mountain. Edward Harrison plays both the gruff and the sensitive sides of the Captain very well; and there are superb supporting performances from Wendy Ferguson and Julia J Nagle as Sisters Berthe and Margaretta, and Emma Williams as Elsa.

I wasn’t entirely sure about Ako Mitchell’s performance as Max; he came across as very showbiz and brash, rather than shifty and unprincipled. Lauren Conroy looks a tiny bit old for Liesl, but she still has that necessary childish charm; and Dylan Mason’s Rolf is earnest and protective – and a superb dancer. I think we saw the Green Team of children, and they were all terrific.