Review – Screaming Blue Murder, Royal and Derngate, Northampton, 27th February 2025

Posted on February 28, 2025 by therealchrisparkle

Constant as the Northern Star, it was time for another Screaming Blue Murder at the Royal and Derngate – scheduled to be the last in the old Royal theatre before moving back to its proper home in the freshly de-RAAC’d Underground in April. Also, as firmly identified with Screaming Blue as Heinz with Baked Beans, was our regular host and MC Dan Evans, suffering from the sniffles, but there’s a lot of it about. Fortunately a kind lady to my left was able to offer him the occasional tissue. I could have given him a whole packet, but didn’t want to draw attention to myself.

Dan set about mingling his way through the crowd, which seemed largely made up of escapees from tough and dangerous East Side Northampton – NN3 to the cognoscenti. We also met Ginny, the English student who doesn’t attend uni – a somewhat complicated arrangement – and Ryan, the crime lecturer who didn’t return for the final act and, thereby, as is always a risk if you do that, missed the best bit. We also met Roger from Northern Ireland, whose unexpected mime for the reason he’s now in Northampton left Dan appropriately speechless.

Showing how our cup ranneth over with talent in this line up, our first act, normally a headliner, was Roger Monkhouse, someone we’ve admired and enjoyed many times over the years. Celebrating his 60^th birthday apparently, his young fogey persona is now distinctly becoming at least middle-aged; I can’t say he’s now an old fogey, because he’s still younger than me. He delivers his material as almost a stream of consciousness, that fools you into thinking he’s making it up on the spur of the moment; but in fact it’s meticulously crafted to give that effect. His material centres on that recognisable confusion of living in the modern world as a no-longer modern bloke, with some lovely relatable observations on how we all just manage to plod on despite our brains and bodies letting us down. Always a delight.

Our next act, and new to us, was Dee Allum, who introduces herself from the start as a trans woman, and whose material centres on her life and the problems she faces, but also you can see the joy her new identity brings her. She has a relatively quiet style, occasionally feeling a little tentative until she gets the vibe of the audience but then grows in confidence as her set progresses. There’s a lot of refreshingly new and innovative material here; I loved her deliberately long and immaculately phrased story involving Kurdish and Yorkshire, and there are some terrific insights into managing a relationship when you come out as trans during the relationship. She ends her routine with a brilliant tale of sperm donation. I’m tempted to say we’ve all been there, but of course we haven’t; but if you have, you really get it. Definitely One To Watch.

After two gently delivering wordsmiths, our headliner was Phil Nichol who gave the evening a hugely energetic kick up the backside. Buzzing with excitement, he exploded around the stage with his uniquely unrestrained hilarity; a bit like the most endearing spoilt kid you ever met. He radiates a strange blend of danger and affability, mixed with oodles of cool, and a quick comedy brain that seizes any opportunity. Armed with his guitar, he gave us some excellent rock parodies, and fixated on poor second row Luke, upon whom he (literally) thrust his faux-sexual advances. Luke proved his worth later when he joined Phil on stage and showed what a good sport he was. Extremely funny throughout and a great way to end the night.

Review – Eshaan Akbar, I Can’t Get No Satisfakshaan, Royal and Derngate, Northampton, 21st February 2025

Posted on February 24, 2025 by therealchrisparkle

It’s been a surprisingly long time – six years – since we last saw Eshaan Akbar live, but he’s still very much the same, urbane, civilised chap as before. He cuts a very relaxed figure on the stage. Unhurried, unfazed, taking everything in his stride; you know you’re in very safe hands with his intelligent content and friendly delivery, even though there’s a sting in the tail to many of his stories.

But I’m getting ahead of myself, as, after a brief getting-to-know-you session at the beginning of the show, including talking to an audience member whose sister insisted she came and thus made the ultimate sacrifice by giving up watching EastEnders, Eshaan introduced us to his support act, the excellent Alexandra Haddow, whom we’ve seen many times before and is always very entertaining. This was the perfect gig for her to recollect her Corby upbringing, and the exciting occasion on when a railway line finally reached the town; she also told us about her boyfriend-geezer and his simple North London ways. I loved her material about relationship “launches” on Instagram, and the pitfalls of being too honest about other people’s ex’s. Confident, smart, and very funny, it was an excellent start to the evening.

After the interval, we welcomed Mr Akbar back, for an hour’s worth of material reflecting his own national identity, as a brown man, born to Pakistani/Bangladeshi parents in Whitechapel, who completely identifies as English – although he doesn’t pass the old Norman Tebbit cricket test. A private education introduced him to the Best of British Banter, as evidenced by his so-called friend Ben, who gave him a deceptive nickname that took years for the penny to drop. Now aged 40, he’s unexpectedly back on the dating scene – including the Muslim version of Tinder – and he sees the world, or at least the country, through the eyes of experience of travelling up and down the land and meeting all kinds of people.

It takes a bold comedian to mine humour from racism (not his own, I should add) and he frequently doesn’t play safe with his material, much to his credit. Thoughtful and intelligent comedy that points out the differences and the similarities between races; and whilst it never truly soars to the heights of hysterically funny, is always entertaining, thought-provoking and full of relatable experiences and observations. Very enjoyable! His tour continues throughout the UK and Ireland into April.

Review – Richard II, Bridge Theatre, London, 20th February 2025

Posted on February 21, 2025 by therealchrisparkle

After its record-breaking run of Guys and Dolls, the Bridge Theatre had to come up with something special to fill the formidable boots of Nathan Detroit and Miss Adelaide. And they have, with Jonathan Bailey, whose star is definitely in the ascendant, starring in Richard II, Shakespeare’s exciting look at the last year of the king’s life before he was usurped by his cousin Bullingbrook, later to become Henry IV.

Written around 1595, the play is known to have offended Queen Elizabeth I, who saw the characterisation of Richard II as a veiled attack on her good queenly self, and in fact she ordered the scene where Richard is deposed to be removed from the printed text; a scene that remained effectively censored for the next two hundred years. Nothing changes, of course; there are plenty of modern parallels to be drawn from the play, proving once again that Shakespeare is always relevant to the modern era. When Richard insists on shamelessly seizing all John of Gaunt’s assets, I couldn’t help but think of Donald Trump’s plans for Ukraine’s natural resources.

Designing the set, Bob Crowley has gone for a clean, bare stage, challenging us to work our imaginations to provide the intricacies of each location. Modern props, such as microphones, pint glasses, hospital beds and walking aids, etc, confirm the production is set in the present day; frosted glass doors at the back of the set make you think that any minute, Lord Sugar’s going to emerge and give you a grilling. Scene changes are made swiftly and effectively through use of traps in the floor; visually, it’s all very slick. Grant Olding’s incidental music is terrific; all too often unnecessary music can really aggravate and detract from a production, but here, the quiet, moody, unsettling themes really build up the tension, and Olding’s stately regal court themes are a delight.

The production makes excellent use of the entire auditorium, with actors often performing from the aisles, audience seats, and even from Gallery 1. The configuration of the stage in relation to the seats does mean that there are occasional blocking issues. To get a good view of everything going on from our positions in Row C of the Stalls you had to do quite a lot of bobbing your head around other cast members to see the action.

Apart from its modern setting, Nicholas Hytner’s production doesn’t approach the play from any unusual or unexpected angle, it just aims to let the text tell the story for itself, bringing out the characterisations of the main roles. Unlike some Shakespeare plays, Richard II isn’t especially overcomplicated; you’re witnessing an arrogant tyrant cling on to power until the power switches to his usurper, and then you see his importance just wither on the vine. It’s fascinating how loathsome Richard is portrayed in the first part of the play; but once he’s ceded his power to his cousin, you feel strangely sorry for him.

At the heart of the play is the tug-of-war for power, beautifully and simply conveyed in the scene where Richard is required to give up his crown to Bullingbrook; both men grabbing hold of it as if it were some kind of exercise ring, and refusing to let go, in an extremely telling test of will. There are some other notable flashes of directorial brilliance, such as the separate appearances of the Duke and Duchess of York at the locked door, and then their kneeling alongside Aumerle in supplication to Bullingbrook, whilst he wanders around, injecting a spot of comedy into an otherwise bleak sequence. In the famous mirror scene, instead of dashing it to the ground, Richard gives it a head-butt of unhinged fury. Little moments of inventiveness like this keep the whole production lively and unpredictable.

The production is very well cast, although some doubling up of roles can be a little confusing, especially if – like me – you’re not that familiar with the text. Additionally, one of the actors delivers their lines in a rather mumbling fashion which makes them often difficult to understand them fully. But, for the most part, there are many excellent performances to enjoy. Michael Simkins is superb throughout as the Duke of York, long suffering, allegiance-switching; it’s a very thoughtful and intelligent performance. Understudying John of Gaunt, Martin Carroll is also excellent, delivering the famous “royal throne of kings” speech with a heavy heart and the regrets of old age.

Vinnie Heaven is superb as Aumerle, giving a typically charismatic performance as the doggedly faithful Duke, Christopher Osikanlu Colquhoun impresses as the ruthless Northumberland, and there’s excellent support from Amanda Root as the Duchess of York and Olivia Popica as Richard’s sorrowful Queen Isobel. Royce Pierreson is outstanding as Bullingbrook, exuding nobility right from the start, maturing into the clinically firm but fair Henry IV. He has incredible stage presence and provides the perfect opponent for Jonathan Bailey’s Richard II.

However, it is Mr Bailey who is the star attraction in this production and he gives every inch the star performance. Totally believable as the despotic Richard, with his swiftly changing moods, he switches from imperial grandeur to whiny sarcasm within the same sentence. It’s a physically demanding performance and he captures both extremes of the king’s character perfectly – the statesman and the wimp. His vocal delivery is perfect too, always with crystal clear elocution and a stage authority that makes you feel you’re in the presence of someone special.

Selling out at the Bridge Theatre until 10^th May – if you haven’t bought your tickets yet, you’d better get your skates on!

Production photos by Manuel Harlan

Four They’re Jolly Good Fellows!

Review – Hamlet, RSC at the Royal Shakespeare Theatre, Stratford-upon-Avon, 18th February 2025

Posted on February 19, 2025 by therealchrisparkle

Ahoy there me hearties as it’s all aboard the SS Elsinore as it crashes through the waves somewhere off the coast of Denmark. Yes, Rupert Goold’s new production risks headlines like This Hamlet is All At Sea with a nautical take on Shakespeare’s longest play, condensed at a tremendous pace into just short of three hours including an interval. There are some bold directorial decisions at play here, and most of them work extremely well, creating a memorable, vibrant, powerful, atmospheric production that has the audience gripped from the start.

Es Devlin has turned the stage of the Royal Shakespeare Theatre into a ship; a floating court if you will, its deck rising and falling in line with the choppiness or tranquillity of the sea, a permanent backdrop thanks to Akhila Krishnan’s very realistic video design. The cast must have Velcro on their shoes to stay upright through some of those stormy scenes, and you really get to understand the meaning of the phrase, those in peril on the sea. Access to the deck is gained via stairs from below at both the front and the back of the stage, as well as from various hatches on the surface of the deck. Colours, in both the set and in Evie Gurney’s costumes, are kept to the minimum, lending a harsh monochrome air to the experience.

It’s not altogether obvious why a ship setting should work for a production of Hamlet. True, an element of the story includes the prince being shipped to England with Rosencrantz and Guildenstern to get executed, but his negotiations with pirates get in the way of that sordid plan and, consequently, he gets shipped back again. Otherwise, traditionally, the play is rooted in the terra firma of Elsinore; but we know that something is rotten in the state of Denmark, so to make Elsinore less firma and more instabilis makes sense. The programme notes suggest that the setting might represent the fate of the Titanic – indeed, the costumes are set in or around 1912 – in which case the final outcome is doomed from the start. Shakespeare, of course, gives us Fortinbras to arrive in the last scene and herald a new age for Denmark. But in Goold’s production, Fortinbras is one of the casualties of cuts (along with Osric and Reynaldo), so the future for Denmark is deliberately left uncertain at the end of the play.

Famously, Hamlet sets out to make Claudius reveal himself as the murderer of Old Hamlet by causing him to react to the play within the play, where a murderer pours poison into his brother’s ear. One of the better judged cuts is to do away with a lot of the wordy narrative by the Players – as well as Hamlet and Ophelia’s audience reactions – and replace it with obscure but effective singing; basically, here The Mousetrap – as Hamlet humorously names the piece – has been turned into a musical. Another necessary change results in an odd use of language though; as there are no arrases for Polonius to hide behind to witness Hamlet’s conversation with Gertrude, he takes the downstage stairs instead. When Hamlet hears there is someone hiding down there, he can’t use his sword to dash the villain to death because it’s not long enough, so he shoots him instead. However, Gertrude still tells Claudius that Hamlet whips out his rapier when he killed Polonius. Err.. no, he didn’t. He shot him.

However, the production is incredibly successful in making the story clear and easy to understand, in an exciting setting and with excellent stagecraft. I’m a big fan of stage combat done well – primarily because if it isn’t done well, it looks ridiculous. Gertrude gives Hamlet a tremendous slap across the face in the first Act; but, topping that, I’ve rarely seen anything quite so believable and thrilling to watch as the swordfight between Hamlet and Laertes in the final scene. Not only coping with the rise and fall of the deck surface, as the ship tilts alarmingly, to my untutored eye it was Olympic standard fencing. Most impressive.

It was with a heavy heart that I realised this production had plugged in the RSC Binatone LED bedroom alarm clock circa 1981 at the sides of the stage, recalling how fatally the time theme wounded the 2018 production of Macbeth. Here it counts down from some time after 9pm to some time after 2 am, with To Be Or Not To Be delivered on the stroke of midnight. You couldn’t make it up. It was Mrs Chrisparkle who suggested that it might represent the time it took for the Titanic to sink. A shapely theory; but it’s impossible for the events of Hamlet to be crammed into four hours, no matter how speedily it’s delivered. Hamlet travels to England and back, and Laertes to France and back during the course of the play. Not even Ryanair can operate that quickly. The best thing about the clock is that it’s completely ignorable.

The production builds to an astonishing crescendo with a final scene that makes you tingle. As the storm gets rougher and the waves toss the ship more dangerously, it starts to tilt into an unavoidable sinking position. Characters are variously poisoned or wounded by swords, and, as they die, gravity slides them down the deck towards a watery grave. It’s a remarkable visual effect and provides a telling juxtaposition with the dignity and formality of Old Hamlet’s funeral at sea with which the play starts. At the end, with no Fortinbras to rescue what’s left of the court of Elsinore, Hamlet stands up, arms outstretched, looking like the salvation of the world, and you expect him to tumble to his death; but he doesn’t. Blackout; end. It’s up to the audience to decide his fate. Does everyone die except Horatio? Or does Hamlet somehow survive and begin the renewal of Denmark?

Rupert Goold has assembled a fantastic cast who nail some superb characterisations throughout. Jared Harris gives a beautifully understated Claudius who attempts to retain his dignity whilst always coming across as guilty as sin. Too quick to lay a kind hand here, or to offer support there, you feel that when the time comes for him to confess his crime, he’s truly relieved to get it off his chest. Nancy Carroll is an excellent Gertrude, reaching for that pacifying cigarette with a ruthlessness that shows there are times when a nicotine patch just won’t do. She is more motherly than Gertrude is normally portrayed, going in for a big maternal kiss and cuddle with Hamlet as she does what she can to make him feel better after killing Polonius, which feels extremely believable; it’s the only way she can try to make good her immoral actions.

Elliot Levey is also brilliant as Polonius; not a doddery old fusspot, but an affectionate father who likes to play infantile games with his daughter. Of course, he’s keen to stick his nose into everything from arranging the royal household affairs to critiquing the players, but Mr Levey plays him as a likeable old chap rather than an irritating old git. The always reliable Anton Lesser brings great credibility to the role of the Player King, who’s basically a jobbing actor who has done well, rather than a bighead who knows it all; he also doubles up as the Ghost of Old Hamlet – a very “real” ghost in this production and also turns in a nice cameo as the first Gravedigger. Ah yes, they don’t have gravediggers on ships, but this is a useful exception, someone has to be in charge of dispatching all those dead bodies.

Lewis Shepherd gives us a suitably hot-headed Laertes who puts revenge first and then asks questions after, and Nia Towle’s Ophelia is as strong and independent a young woman as the times would allow; her “mad scene” is as full of power and physicality as I’ve ever seen, enveloping herself around the King without the inhibitions of etiquette. And there’s an entertaining portrayal of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern by Chase Brown and Tadeo Martinez, who would easily pass for extras in The Book of Mormon. It’s always entertaining when Claudius mixes the two friends up and is corrected by Gertrude, in a scene straight out of Tom Stoppard.

A production of Hamlet is always going to succeed or fail on the strength of its central performance, and here Mr Goold’s production is in the safest of hands. Luke Thallon is phenomenal. Young enough to have dreams to be shattered, and old enough to be cynical through experience, he gives a lively, physical, emotionally draining performance, delivering each line as though he’s working out what to say next; Hamlet starts sentences that he often has no idea how they will end, revealing an eloquent vulnerability that conveys his character perfectly.

It’s always a matter of opinion in any production as to what extent Hamlet is mad or feigns madness. Is Mr Thallon’s Hamlet mad? I sense not very. At times channelling the brash comedic smugness of the late Rik Mayall, at others deadly serious and threatening, it’s a performance of limitless possibilities and interpretations and he has the audience spellbound, waiting on his every word. And he heads up a production that’s exciting, powerful and innovative; exploring new ways of telling an old tale and telling it superbly well. On the downside: I miss Osric and Fortinbras; and there’s the clock. But on the upside: Luke Thallon, and that tremendous final scene. An absolute cracker of a production.

Production photos by Marc Brenner

Five Alive, Let Theatre Thrive!

Review – (the) Woman, Royal and Derngate, Northampton, 14th February 2025

Posted on February 18, 2025 by therealchrisparkle

New Perspectives brought their touring production of Jane Upton’s new play (the) Woman to the Royal and Derngate, Northampton for three preview performances before officially opening in Oxford on 18^th February. The inspiration for the play came from Jane Upton’s own experience when, as a new mother, her brother told her that a guy she went out with at school had seen her in the street with her buggy and told him that he expected more of her than just bringing up kids in the same area she grew up.

Understandably annoyed, she decided to arrange a zoom meeting with the guy; unsure whether it was just to talk it out with him or simply to impress him with what he’d missed. Either way, it didn’t happen – the guy chickened out; end of. From that experience, this semi-autobiographical play started to take shape, centring on her main character’s experience of trying to raise a family at the same time as working as a writer, with many a pitfall en route.

The structure of the play – that M is trying to write a play for a demanding production team and that this play (i. e. (the) Woman) contains many of the same scenes that the producers are looking for – is clever on paper, but in practice created a play that had Mrs Chrisparkle and me completely baffled. Lighting effects occasionally flash that indicate – I think – that we’ve switched from reality to imagination, from the play that is being written to the play that is being performed; and it’s taken me the best part of four days for it to start to gel in my head.

Of course, the last thing anyone wants in respect of a heartfelt and anxiety-ridden play written by a woman from personal experience is to have a 64 year old straight, cis, white male reviewer mansplaining the whole thing. Indeed, the online programme includes a fictional one star review from some pompous and obviously neanderthal bloke called Jonathan Darcy pointing out how awful the play is; thereby batting away in an advance pre-emptive strike any anticipated complaints from men who simply don’t and can’t get it.

However, I must be honest; I don’t actually think I do get it. Maybe it’s because I’m not a parent. Maybe it’s because I’m not a woman. Maybe I’m just plain thick; but there is something about this production that sets up a barrier of communication between what we see on stage and what the audience understands. There is no doubt an intentional blurring of the edges between fact and fiction, but rather than illuminating the issues discussed, or even just entertaining the audience, I simply find it frustrating that it isn’t easier to understand. And if you don’t get it, it comes across as a negative piece with unlikeable characters, which makes it all the harder to appreciate.

Early in the play is a fictional version of the event that inspired Ms Upton to write the play in the first place. This is our introduction to M (she doesn’t have a real name), and in a scene with a lot of profane language from both characters, we see her challenging this scummy lowlife geezer over his misogynist remarks but then agreeing to impromptu “filthy sex” (her words) in the back of his van. Mixed messages, indeed; and that inconsistency of characterisation led me never to truly take to M as someone with whom I could connect as the play progresses. But maybe it isn’t an inconsistency of characterisation. Maybe one part of the story was real, and the other was part of “writing the play”. Frankly, don’t ask me.

Either way, it’s a very heavy piece; very intense and dark, full of misery and tragedy. There are trigger warnings (contains strong language, references of a sexual nature and references to baby loss) – take them seriously because this play deals with a lot of disturbing issues. Possibly too many; the difficulties of being both a mother and trying to work, of holding down a relationship when you’re no longer interested in your partner, of being surrounded by men who always know best, of dealing with both physical and mental illness whilst being let down by the NHS – I could go on. At 100 minutes with no interval, there’s very little light and shade, and even though there are some good comedy lines, the overwhelming sense of sadness made it hard for me to laugh at them.

The appearance of a nightmare demon baby with luminous eyes haunting M, which I think is meant as a kind of comedy callback, is both ridiculous and crudely done; and the Brechtian projection of spoken words from each scene seems at first to do little to illuminate our understanding. However, I suspect those words are meant to represent the writer at work, typing out a few relevant lines from each scene. If you don’t realise that at the time, as we didn’t, then they seem meaningless. Again, it’s taken me four days for the penny to drop.

There are some aspects to the story that I found very hard to believe. When M emerges from the back of a van after a shag with the lowlife and discovers the baby is missing – she reacts with all the concern and alarm of a mislaid set of keys; and when she talks to the only guy with a kid at the nursery, she tells him that she assumes they will soon be having sex, much to his embarrassment. People don’t really do that kind of thing. But maybe that’s because they didn’t actually do that kind of thing. Really, the structure does make it difficult to comprehend the play as a whole.

There are some very well written and performed scenes. Lizzy Watts gives a strong and committed performance as M, never off stage, which is a remarkable feat of both memory and endurance. André Squire and Cian Barry make the most of their largely unremarkable male roles, as either ciphers, bullies or plain arrogant; but lifting the production immensely is a superb performance by Jamie-Rose Monk as all the other female roles. Funny, tragic, bossy, she makes you sit up and pay attention whenever she’s on stage.

Deliberately confusing, and certainly it feels too long; more light and shade, and shaving half an hour off it would help. If you get the play and its structure from the start, I can see that it would be much more appealing than we found it; for us, it was just a frustrating watch! After Oxford, the tour continues to Coventry, Birmingham, Nottingham, Worthing and Twickenham.

Production photos by Manuel Harlan

Three-sy Does It!

Review – Valentine’s Gala with the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, Royal and Derngate, Northampton, 15th February 2025

Posted on February 17, 2025 by therealchrisparkle

The Royal Philharmonic Orchestra’s Valentine’s gift to the people of Northampton this year was a delightful gala programme of romantic music from the 19^th and 20^th centuries. There was a buzz of excitement in the very full Derngate auditorium as we awaited the arrival of our conductor for this concert, Richard Balcombe, a very smart gentleman who reminded me a little of the late great Bob Holness. Whilst he might not give us a P, I’m sure he could be relied on for an excellent Middle C; just a small joke there for people of my age. He has a relaxed style of conducting – no baton, very inclusive, and giving the audience a few introductions to the various pieces to be performed during the concert.

Opening salvos were fired with the first item of the night, Tchaikovsky’s Sleeping Beauty Waltz, an instantly captivating tune delivered with true gusto by the full orchestra, under its usual leadership of Duncan Riddell. Then we welcomed our guest soloist for the concert, Irene Duval, to play Bruch’s Violin Concerto No 1. Ms Duval delivered those fantastic romantic themes with sensitivity and energy with her Jean-Baptiste Vuillaume violin; no wonder listeners to Classic FM named it as their number one piece in the Classic FM Hall of Fame. The first half of the concert ended with Khachaturian’s Adagio from Spartacus, which of course was the theme to BBCTV’s nautical drama The Onedin Line in the 1970s, even though it was originally a dance from Khachaturian’s 1954 ballet. But when you hear that superbly timed crashing symbol, you’ve no other mental image other than a massive wave breaking on a rocky shore.

After the interval, we started with the second of our three Tchaikovsky pieces, the Polonaise from Eugene Onegin, another rousing and emotional number that opens Act III of the opera. Then came Mascagni’s Intermezzo from Cavalleria Rusticana, gloriously played to release maximum emotion, and I always think, a sense of tragedy. It’s a piece I’ve known since I was a wee lad – the story of how Mascagni wrote the intermezzo so that his two act opera could be entered in a one-act opera competition – which he then won – always made me feel strangely happy for him!

Then came Bizet’s Carmen Suite No 1, six of classical music’s best tunes all wrapped into a fifteen minute musical sensation. Standout moments included the fantastic percussion in the Aragonaise, the beautiful flute playing in the Intermezzo, the mysterious atmosphere of Les dragons d’Alcala and the immense energy and enthusiasm of Les Toréadors. We resolved to go home and dig out the CD instantly! Two modern pieces followed, Maurice Jarre’s Lara’s Theme from Doctor Zhivago, arranged by Christopher Palmer, and the John Dunbar Theme from John Barry’s music for Dances with Wolves. And the evening ended with our final piece of Tchaikovsky, the Romeo and Juliet Fantasy Overture that always leaves you wondering where it’s going until it establishes that rich, unforgettable tune.

A brilliant night out which got a massive reception from the enthusiastic audience. The Royal Philharmonic return to the Royal and Derngate on May 31^st for Tchaikovsky’s Sixth Symphony – can’t wait!

Review – Comedy Crate at the Charles Bradlaugh, Northampton, 13th February 2025

Posted on February 14, 2025 by therealchrisparkle

It was with a buzz of expectation that a merry band of a hundred or more souls settled down for another excellent line up of comedians at the Charles Bradlaugh, all arranged by those nice people at the Comedy Crate. Some new names to us, and some familiar; it was always going to be a great night.

Our host for the evening was the jovial Ross McGrane, whom we’d seen once before as the opening act at a Screaming Blue Murder, almost ten years ago. A naturally funny guy, he’s full of electric enthusiasm and is the perfect MC to get us all in the mood. As well as working his way around the crowd, he also shared some excellent comedy nuggets, such as an exploration of the cost of toys, and the childcare advice of his East Ham granny; I too had an East Ham granny, so can appreciate the veracity of her wisdom. He kept the whole thing going at a tremendous pace and was a classy conduit indeed.

First up, and someone we’ve seen many times before, was the fantastic Steve Day, still coming to terms with the potential for offence at the difference between deaf and Deaf; as a deaf comedian, no one can express that better than him. A terrific communicator, he has great material about having a household with grown up kids, his experience co-hosting a Paralympics event with Boris Johnson (shudder) and I still love his line about moving to beautiful Sutton Coldfield for the views. Bold and inventive, he takes comedy where angels fear to tread, and the audience loved him.

Two comedians shared the second spot, and we started with Harry Pettitt, introduced by Ross as Harry Kane for no discernible reason. A fresh-faced Essex lad who looks like butter wouldn’t melt, he has a confident stage presence and an instant connection with the audience. He gave us some very funny routines about the benefits of spending time with posh people and the joys of travelling. I reckon this young chap is going places. After him, came Matt Adlington, another naturally funny guy, who kept the energy up; continuing the Essex theme of the night, he has a smart delivery and a rather kindly presence. He was surprised to know how well we knew our Magpie material, and has a uniquely splendid reason for sporting a beard.

Our headliner was Jordan Gray, someone whom I’ve been fascinated to see ever since her devilish live TV appearance with Ben Elton. Her delivery style verges on the manic, leaping all over the stage, contorting her legs into unusual positions like a wannabe ballerina on speed. Most of her material stems from her life as a transgender woman, and it’s both incredibly emotional and unabashedly hilarious. What primarily comes through is her honesty; she’s outrageous but she’s truthful, unpredictable but, above all, very, very funny. We loved her witty song about being coeliac – as is Mrs Chrisparkle, so we both felt her pain – and she provided the perfect conclusion to a brilliant night of comedy.

Next Comedy Crate at the Bradlaugh is on 13^th March – sadly, we can’t make it, but you should!

The Points of View Challenge – Act of Faith – Irwin Shaw

Posted on February 11, 2025 by therealchrisparkle

Irwin Shaw (1913 – 1984)

American playwright, screenwriter, novelist, and short-story author, best known for his novels The Young Lions and Rich Man, Poor Man.

Act of Faith was written in 1946, and first published in The New Yorker on February 2nd in the same year. It was later included in the short story compilation Act of Faith and Other Stories also in 1946.

Unfortunately I have not been able to find a free copy to read online.

This is the sixth 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 continues: “What the stories have in common is the presentation of the inner life of a single character rather than of several or of none.”

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

Act of Faith

The Second World War is over, but American soldiers are still stationed in Europe. Olson, Welch and Seeger survived Omaha Beach and are now considering their post-war futures. They’re not far from Paris and who can resist visiting the French capital? But none of them has been paid for three months. What can you do in Paris without money? Olson and Welch decide to ask their commanding officer, Captain Taney for a loan, but they delegate Seeger to do the negotiations. Why not? He can only say no.

In fact Taney says yes but can only muster up 200 francs – the equivalent of four dollars. That’s not going to get them very far. But Welch remembers that Seeger has a Lüger, taken from the body of a German he killed. He can get sixty-five dollars for that. That would certainly buy them a night on the town.

Seeger, meanwhile, has received a letter from home. In it, his father pours his heart out to his son about how life is now in America. Seeger’s brother Leonard was killed in action, and his brother Jacob is home but suffering badly with what we now know to be PTSD. Even harder to bear is the fact that the antisemitism rife in Europe has reached the States and the family – who are Jewish – realise that life is no longer the safe comfortable existence they always knew. Even their friends are turning against them.

Seeger doesn’t know what to think. Is all this sacrifice of war in vain? Would it not have been better if, like Leonard, he hadn’t survived the war so that he would not have to see the suffering of his parents? At that point Olson and Welch tell him that they know his Lüger is very important to him and ask him not to part with it if he isn’t completely sure. There are other ways of spending time in Paris. Seeger asks them directly, “what do you guys think of the Jews?” To which they reply that they have no idea what he means and that they’ve never heard of the Jews, and maybe he should ask them an easier question. Filled with hope and the confidence to tackle the prejudice at home head-on, Seeger agrees to sell the Lüger: “What could I use it for in America?”

A fascinating short story, notable for the fact that the action takes place in one continent but the substance of what it’s all about takes place in another. On one hand, it reveals the evil of antisemitism – indeed all prejudice – as it quietly grows all around you, and if you do nothing to prevent its growth, you’re part of the problem. It also shows that a simple expression of kindness and positivity may be all that’s needed to make the future optimistic; Olson and Welch’s flat-out refusal to participate in any antisemitic comments make Seeger feel safe and supported.

Shaw really gets to the heart of his characters in this story; you can sense the likeable laddishness of Olson, the earnest decency of Seeger and the keen practicality of Welch. Although they are of different levels of superiority, there’s no division between them. Shaw’s writing even invites us in to understand the characterisations of the minor characters, such as Taney speaking “like a man who has never quite got the hang of army regulations”, or describing Seeger’s father’s letter as “on the stiff white stationery with the University letterhead in polite engraving at the top of each page”.

The most powerful aspect of this story is the mental journey that Seeger undertakes, over a very short space of time, from being a confident, skilful soldier, to wading through a sea of self-doubt and second-hand grief, and then going back to a positive frame of mind again. A very satisfying and also thought-provoking piece.

The next story in the anthology is the seventh to be classified by Moffett and McElheny as Biography, or Anonymous Narration – Single Character Point of View, The Five-Forty-Eight by John Cheever.

Review – Les Miserables, Sondheim Theatre, London, 6th February 2025

Posted on February 7, 2025 by therealchrisparkle

When there are countless new productions coming up every week worthy of one’s theatre ticket budget, it might seem strange to go back to a few old favourites once in a while, just to check up on them and see how they’re getting on, like an elderly relative who’s beginning to lose the ability to look after themselves properly. Thus we decided to pay a visit to Les Miserables at the Queens’, I mean Sondheim, Theatre, to see if, forty years on, it’s still in rude health.

It’s misleading to think of it as forty years, as this is the “new” version of the show, directed by Laurence Connor and James Powell, which Mrs Chrisparkle and I were lucky to catch in swanky New York ten years ago. That performance blew our minds, having seen the original version back in 1986 and, frankly, not liking it much; I think you need to have experienced a few hardships in life to truly appreciate Les Mis. Bizarrely, we also saw it at the Leicester Curve in 2018, in a production that completely escapes my memory.onnor and Powell zipped the original up and smartened it out, creating a more vivid show; even though it still lasts just short of three hours, it’s incredibly pacey. When Marius tosses a stone at Cosette’s window she bursts forward to see him instantly, even before gravity has had time for the stone to hit the floor. There’s no hanging about here.

One might not expect a Thursday matinee in February to be full, but so packed was the Sondheim Theatre that there was hardly room for an underfed Parisien street urchin to sneak in. Steward Morley’s fantastic orchestra give the performance of their lives as they emote Claude-Michel Schönberg’s luscious score;crammed full of leitmotifs, and not a note wasted. Matt Kinley’s superb set spills out into the boxes at the side of the stage, recreating the terror of the prisoner labour ship, the grimness of the factories, the grandeur of Valjean’s house and the makeshift mess that represents the barricades. I was struck – perhaps for the first time – by how effective it is, to regularly contrast an elaborate set, such as the ship, with the simplicity of just a table with two candles, such as represents the Bishop of Digne’s humble home.

I know of no other show that can produce audience sobs out of thin air with the ease that Les Mis does. Spoiler alert, soz (but where have you been for the last forty years?) the first tremors of emotion come with Fantine on her death bed, and of course there’s always a gulp at Eponine’s On My Own. But it’s Bring Him Home that opens the floodgates, with alikely trigger at Empty Chairs at Empty Tables, and flat out wailing when the ghosts of Fantine and Eponine come to welcome the dying Valjean out of this world and into a better place. Paule Constable’s stunning lighting design and Finn Ross’ video projections also add to many of these moments, notably Javert tumbling to his death in the Seine, and that amazing second or two when Gavroche’s lifeless body is captured in a crosshair of bright light; they truly take your breath away.

Changes of cast occur from season to season, and the current cast is full of star turns. Ian McIntosh, whom I’ve only ever seen before giving brilliant supporting performances in iffy touring musical productions, portrays a Valjean of valour, nobility and the most exquisitely tender voice. It’s not just the sentiment of Bring Him Home that makes us go wobbly at the knees, it’s that purity and clarity with which he delivers those most immaculate of notes.His nemesis, Javert, is played by Stewart Clarke, whose powerful voice is put to great use, suggesting the character’s bullying and intimidating nature. I’ve seen Mr Clarke many times before on stage and he always nails those imposing, ruthless roles; but I wished for a little more light and shade in his portrayal of Javert. His face is set to one expression throughout – grimace – which only begins to soften in his final moments. You never get the sense that this Javert questions his motives or beliefs for one instant. I know; call me picky.

The three main female roles are all superbly performed. Lucie Jones’ Fantine is a terrific portrayal of decency destroyed by circumstances, giving us a delicate and almost intimate performance of the classic I Dreamed A Dream. Annabelle Aquino plays Cosette with a brightness of spirit and a heart of gold; andAmena El-Kindy pulls out all the stops as her Eponine delivers a soaring On My Own, making the best of observing Marius’ devotion to Cosette on the sidelines, just so that she can be in his company.

Jacob Dachtler’s unswervingly brave and noble Marius is a perfect match for Cosette; he nicely brings out the emotional content in his songs extremely well and is very believable in the role. Robson Broad’s Enjolras is a triumph of heroism, with an amazing stage presence and a wonderful voice which helps those powerful but brief songs, Red/Black and Do You Hear The People Sing, linger on in our minds long after curtain down.

But the secret ingredient of this current production is the inspired casting of Luke Kempner and Claire Machin as the Thénardiers. Crowd pleasers from the start, their physical comedy is outstanding, and their comic bickering is credible rather than just being pure pantomime.Along with the rest of the ensemble, their on stage activity for Master of the House is immaculately timed with hilarious shenanigans complementing the music perfectly. The audience adores them.

I genuinely had no idea I was going to enjoy this show again as much as I did. If you’ve never seen it, what are you waiting for? And if you have, you’ll be delighted to know it’s as great as ever.

Five Alive, Let Theatre Thrive!

Review – Dial M for Mayhem, Royal and Derngate, Northampton, 3rd February 2025

Posted on February 4, 2025 by therealchrisparkle

It was with no little excitement that I realised this touring production comes from the Middle Ground Theatre Company, an intrepid outfit that brought a couple of excellent productions to the Wycombe Swan in the mid-1990s and whom I always enjoyed seeing. Small, but beautifully formed, as they say; Middle Ground would tour where angels fear to tread, including the Scottish Highlands and Islands, bringing their productions to remote village halls for one night only.

And that is the rather charming and potentially hilarious inspiration for Margaret May Hobbs’ new play Dial M for Mayhem, the story of a bumbling company performing Dial M for Murder for one night at the Loch Shindig Village Hall (no need to look it up; you won’t find it on any map). Pouring rain, a clapped-out van, food poisoning, an accident-prone actor, an escaped pet rat, electricity via a 50p meter – I probably don’t need to go on. But will the show?

Michael Lunney’s set perfectly encapsulates that often seen, rather basic, flimsy touring set whilst still serving the purpose of the play extremely well, allowing an Act Two backstage view whilst still being able to see some of what’s going on “on stage”. The cast work their socks off, full of commitment and with plenty of physical comedy. There are some extremely funny scenes which genuinely make you laugh out loud – and there’s no doubt that the show received a good reception. The biggest laugh from a Northamptonshire audience came from the revelation that one of the Scots characters doesn’t come from Loch Shindig – but Corby.

So is this the new Noises Off? Far from it, I’m afraid. For every funny moment there are several tumbleweed sequences where everything just treads water. The patchy writing extends to the structure of the play itself; only the third scene (of four) gives you the backstage angle with all its unique comedy potential, and much of that sadly falls flat. This leads on to a final scene which partially resolves a few issues – even though you didn’t realise they were issues in the first place. Two members of the team have a brief romantic moment without ever having seen a flicker between them in the first three scenes. You suspect that another character has some unspecified health issues that just brings a cloud to the final few minutes.

Margaret May Hobbs doesn’t sign off her scenes with any significant line or cliffhanger moment to take us to the next scene, resulting in them all finishing hanging in the air, with the audience wondering is that it? At least half the characters are stereotypes with precious little depth to them; the AA man is like a Scouse Eric Morecambe and there’s a stock Highlander who would make the characters in Hamish Macbeth blush with embarrassment. There’s also no sense of urgency or panic in the last minute rehearsals for the performance; Sean the director and Andrew the stage manager allow themselves to be merrily distracted from getting on with the job without the remotest concern. And when we see Dial M for Murder in full flow from backstage, there’s no sense of it progressing whilst we’re watching the backstage catastrophes; the Loch Shindig audience may be as generous as you like but even they can’t be happy with several minutes of nothing happening on stage whilst everyone hunts down a rat.

Michael Lunney’s cast make the most of their roles; Alasdair Baker as Rupert mines a genuine fallen star out of the stereotype elderly luvvie, and I enjoyed Estrid Barton’s Ellen frantically trying to hold the sound cues together whilst simultaneously throwing up in a bucket. But, sadly, a weak script means you come away from the show with a sense of opportunities wasted rather than taken. After its week in Northampton, the tour continues to Darlington, Dundee, Ipswich and Hereford.