Monthly Archives: April 2025

Review – Titus Andronicus, Royal Shakespeare Company at the Swan Theatre, Stratford-upon-Avon, 29th April 2025

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One of Shakespeare’s earliest hits, Titus Andronicus holds a strange place in the Bard’s canon. Its authorship is a matter of some debate; perhaps he wrote it all, or some of it, or it was based on something written by the likes of Kyd or Marlowe. Unusually for Shakespeare, it’s a Roman tragedy but not based on historical characters – indeed Ovid’s Metamorphoses appears to have been one of the prime sources that inspired its writing. It was probably conceived as a crowd-pleaser, because revenge comedies were all the rage in 1588. But tastes change, and for the last three centuries it’s been seen as rather unworthy of Shakespeare’s pen.

TitusPerhaps it’s because we’re so used to Shakespeare subtly weaving so many threads and nuances into his plays that Titus Andronicus is looked down upon. Apart from an early exploration of a London coming to terms with racism in the character of Aaron, and the play’s substantial derogatory use of the word black, primarily it’s all about revenge, pure and simple. Revenge is key; one of the most natural reactions that man can have, and one of the most ignoble. The play’s long first scene includes the first retaliatory act – Titus’ decision to have Tamora’s eldest son Alarbus murdered, simply because his own sons were killed in the war against the Goths. And from there, vengeance follows vengeance, and it all gets a bit out of hand.

LaviniaThe big question to ask of any production of Titus Andronicus is, just how gruesome do you want it to be? And I think the consensus is to be as bloody as you dare. Max Webster’s production is a surprisingly successful combination of high on blood but low on violence, in that most of the murders are committed in a very stylised manner, with a distanced swish of a knife and a flash of dramatic lighting that nevertheless causes the blood to flow. It’s also high on sinister too; whenever the pulley system on stage starts working, and a noose or a hook comes into view, you know there’s only going to be one outcome. As the death count increases, the styling becomes more intricate but more desperate; towards the end we’re reduced to sloshing from a bucket and using a couple of hosepipes.

Aaron Chiron DemetriusThe play starts on a high, with its riveting, long, opening scene where brothers Saturninus and Bassianus are setting out the reasons to the crowd why they should become the next Roman emperor; only for the honour to be given to Titus, who then bestows it on Saturninus. So much for democracy. The atmosphere is electric with political wrangling and backstabbing; and every aspect of the story is told clearly and powerfully. However, the second scene, between Aaron, Chiron and Demetrius is much harder to follow, and I felt a lull in the energy. It wasn’t until the return of Tamora that the storytelling became clear again.

CastJoanna Scotcher’s clinical stark white stage is the perfect setting for the intrigues and revenge killings to be carried out, allowing for a powerful contrast between the bright red blood and the pristine white marble. Lee Curran has plenty of opportunities for gripping lighting effects as the death count rises; however, whilst bringing a dead body wrapped in a sheet on stage with a bright fluorescent tube next to it probably looks great from the stalls, it appears clumsy and obvious from the galleries. And, whilst we’re on the subject of looking silly, although the stylised killings are very effective, the posturing and sub-balletic scene changes where benches are whirled, and a ladder passed here there and everywhere before finally going off stage just looks like the backstage crew have been replaced by members from Cirque de Soleil.

TitusIt’s vital for there to be some comic touches, as otherwise the play’s relentless piling of wanton horror on wanton horror just becomes too much. There’s a delightful moment of anachronistic use of music (usually something that irritates me personally!) when Aaron hums Delibes’ Lakme whilst preparing a grisly fate. And Max Webster builds in some delicate and surprisingly subtle moments of gallows humour, aided of course by Simon Russell Beale’s immaculate feel for comedy and killer line delivery.

Lavinia and TamoraThere are some excellent performances, although I also thought a few were a little underpowered. Joshua James is outstanding as the belligerent, sullen Saturninus who looks on leadership as his God-given right; his interpretation of the role is spot on throughout, with more than a little of John Hurt-style Caligula and Rik Mayall thrown in. As a contrast, Ned Costello’s brother Bassianus conveys all the character’s humility and likeability that might have made him a good, if perhaps unspectacular emperor.

CastIn a fascinating change from the original, Titus’ brother Marcus is now his sister Marcia Andronicus, played with great commitment and sincerity by Emma Fielding, bringing out the character’s decency, supportiveness and common sense. Letty Thomas gives a heartbreaking performance as Lavinia, from her initial shock followed by dignity when chosen as Saturninus’ wife despite being engaged to his brother, to her total destruction by the rapists Chiron and Demetrius.

Tamora and AaronWendy Kweh gives a very strong performance as Tamora, at first desperate in defeat and willing to do anything to save the life of her son; then inspired by revenge to submit to marriage to Saturninus whilst working with her lover Aaron to encourage the rape of Lavinia and the eventual fall of the House of Andronicus. And Natey Jones is excellent as Aaron, a complex villain who, whilst aspiring to be as evil an assassin as possible, still cherishes the baby in his arms. I did admire the not-so-subtle allusion to an Elon Musk’s DOGE moment.

TitusIt will be the casting of Simon Russell Beale in the title role that will attract the most theatregoers to this production, and he is, indeed, fantastic. A tremendous stage presence, you never sense for a moment that there might be a hint of insanity in his Titus as he maintains a superb dignity throughout, even in the most tortured moments of despair. Some commentators decry the play for its prosaic violence; but you only have to hear a few lines delivered by Mr Beale to appreciate the glorious poetry that lurks just beneath its surface. And his performance is a constant source of surprise; when death and devastation is all around him, all he can do is stop and laugh at the ridiculousness and hopelessness of the situation. His laughter is shocking and bizarre, but it’s totally right.

ChefThe famous “banquet” scene, where Chef Titus serves Tamora and Saturninus a pie containing her dead sons, is performed with a lovely balance of horror and comedy, and ends up with the bloodiest final tableau. It’s no surprise that the ticket holders nearest the stage are given protective blankets to shield themselves from spraying blood – gore blimey, indeed. The production treads a delicate balance between the horror and the hilarious and largely gets it right. The audiences of 1588 would be delighted to know that Titus Andronicus is still in safe hands – unless they get cut off.

Production photos by Marc Brenner

4-starsFour They’re Jolly Good Fellows!

Review – Much Ado About Nothing, RSC at the Royal Shakespeare Theatre, Stratford-upon-Avon, 24th April 2025

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Attending a Royal Shakespeare Company production of a well-known and much-loved Shakespeare classic (I guess they’re all classics!) is an adventure into the imagination. Which setting will the fevered brain of a gifted director (in this case Michael Longhurst) have chosen to take us away from its traditional location? In this production, the house of Leonato, the Governor of Messina, and a visit from the Prince of Aragon, Don Pedro, still takes place in Messina – but at the final of the European Cup, where Messina FC have smashed those upstarts from Madrid FC, and tasted footie glory. Leonato owns the club, Don Pedro is the manager, Benedick is their captain and Claudio their new star player. The re-allocation of roles doesn’t end there; Beatrice is a sports reporter, Margaret works in PR for Leonato’s company and even Dogberry is head of security at the stadium.

FootballersWhen you enter the auditorium, it’s like you’ve mistakenly gone to see Dear England instead – all LED banners with football scores, team lists, formation diagrams, etc. We’re just inside the tunnel and can see through the gap into the huge, excited crowd and the green grass of the pitch. Interview cameras and screens are all set up. And, whilst, on the face of it, this has nothing to do with Much Ado About Nothing, visually, it’s a feast and really makes you excited for what’s about to happen next.

More FootballersUnfortunately, what happens next is a very confusing, messy, noisy scene where the victorious players take to the stage, managers, staff and players all congratulate and tease each other, and players jump in the bath. You also realise that the words you are hearing – those that you can make out at least, because the speech is very garbled in this opening scene – are not that faithful to those of the beloved Bard. I don’t recall, for example, chants of He’s gone in the bath, he’s gone in the bath in the original. It quickly becomes clear that these early scenes are merely a serving suggestion of the Much Ado we know and love and that some huge liberties have been taken with the text. It’s at moments like this that one discovers one’s own purist level – and mine was certainly crossed.

LeonatoHowever, as the production progresses, it becomes clear that the football analogy doesn’t really work, and the links between the plot and the Beautiful Game become fewer and slighter, so that, by the end, it feels like a relatively straightforward modern day interpretation of the play, with some very effective use of social media and modern tech. Don John’s deception of Claudio into believing that Hero has been unfaithful before their marriage is shown like a cross between deepfake and a revenge porn attack, with Hero’s face being digitally manipulated onto Margaret’s body whilst she’s filmed in flagrante delicto on Hero’s bed. The simplicity of the deception is surprisingly disturbing; and of course the social media comments depict Twitter/X at its most vicious.

Benedick hidingElsewhere, the famous scenes where Benedick and Beatrice separately overhear others talking about how much they are mutually desired work well. Benedick, who has been having a sports massage, hides himself in and around the portable massage bed. Beatrice hides herself behind a desk which had previously been used as a DJ mixing deck, with the result that she accidentally knocks a button which turns the disco lights on to the sound of I’m horny, horny, horny, horny. Ah yes; I hadn’t mentioned the use of music yet. There’s a lot of it. And it’s a mixture of pop classics and techno thump – and to be fair, it’s very entertaining and fits well. Who knew that the drunken Leonato would end the masked ball crooning Frank Sinatra’s My Way.

InterviewJon Bausor’s set is nothing if not arresting; the pool in the middle of the stage acts as the bath in the footballers’ changing room, as well as the centrepiece of Leonato’s garden – although a laborious entry by two backstage technicians adding a fountain to it during a scene is clumsy and distracting and adds very little to the effect. Upstairs opens to reveal Hero’s bedroom, although the angle from the stalls doesn’t always  make it clear what’s happening up there. However, the football and social media imagery work extremely well thanks to Tal Rosner’s excellent video design.

BenedickAs you would expect, there are some very good performances, although I was never convinced that Nick Blood’s otherwise very relatable Benedick was ever truly against marriage; with his successful football career taking up all his time, he just hadn’t needed it yet. But he brings out the humour from the text beautifully, both the original and the new elements; and participates in a very funny act of physical comedy when his massage towel is swiped away and plunges himself in the pool to protect his modesty – excellent ball control there. Freema Agyeman takes the cut-throat life of Beatrice the TV reporter into the character’s private life with her brutal, professional dismissiveness of Benedick, and delights in thwarting him with as little fuss as possible; her surprise instruction Kill Claudio is delivered as though it were next on her to do list, and his instant refusal just blanks him out of her life (temporarily, of course).

BeatriceDaniel Adeosun is very good as Claudio, highly believable as the sporting hero and easily duped fiancé; Eleanor Worthington-Cox’s Hero is more of a fun-lover than she is normally portrayed, Olivier Huband is a charismatic Don Pedro, and Jay Taylor is excellent as the wretched Borachio, doing Don John’s dirty work. There’s a gasp-inducing moment of stage combat when, infuriated by what Borachio has done, Mr Huband just head butts Mr Taylor, and it’s extremely effective! The portrayal of Dogberry and his team can often come across as dated and laborious in this play – a bit like the Porter in Macbeth it can either be astounding or cringeworthy – and I’m afraid the characterisations in this production didn’t really work for me. But there’s also excellent support from Nojan Khazai as the devious Don John, Gina Bramhill as Margaret and Tanya Franks as Antonia, Leonato’s wife.

Hero and ClaudioOnce the whole football theme starts to fade away, then the excellence of Shakespeare’s play starts to take shape; so despite the quality of the production and performances, for me this is only a partly successful show. But there is a lot to enjoy – just take a chill pill if you’re a purist!

 

Production photos by Marc Brenner

3-starsThree-sy Does It!

Review – Muriel’s Wedding The Musical, Curve Theatre, Leicester, 23rd April 2025

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Remember the 1994 film? Of course you do! Muriel’s Wedding received pretty much worldwide acclaim for being a brash, no holds barred comedy where the ugly duckling becomes – if not a swan, then at least a fully grown duck who is completely at ease with who she is. The musical, with music and lyrics by Kate Miller-Heidke and Keir Nuttall, opened in Sydney in 2017, toured Australia in 2019 and has finally re-emerged with its UK premiere at the Leicester Curve.

How well does it transfer to the stage, thirty-one (really?) years later, and as a musical? It’s certainly helped by having an excellent production; director Simon Phillips assembled a great creative team around him, and it shows from the start. Matt Kinley’s set is outstanding and combined with Natasha Chivers’ lighting and Andrzej Goulding’s video design, is a delight to the eyes and convincingly takes us from Leicester to the bright lights of Porpoise Spit. The poker machines at the RSL, the social media littering the back wall, and the suggestions of the sun-drenched Australian coast and the unique combination of pizzazz and sordidness that is Sydney are all beautifully recreated.

Gabriela Tylesova’s costumes convey perfectly all aspects of Australian life; from the beach bums to the suburban household and the glamour and tastelessness that are vital to the existence of the vacuous town girls. Tom Slade’s band does a tremendous job of recreating the sounds of Abba as well as the new songs of Miller-Heidke and Nuttall. And there are also some excellent performances, more of which later.

However, there’s one thing that drags this show down; and, sadly, that’s the show itself. I wondered to what extent the story of Muriel’s Wedding would appear dated today, and the answer is – very. When the film came out, fat-shaming was funny and misogyny was a giggle. Today, much of the content of the show seems extremely cruel, with Muriel being picked on for her style (lack of it) and weight (excess of it), and Betty being mocked – and deceived – for being a maternal drudge who can’t work out that 80-50=30. In fact the story is so misogynistic that even the women hate women. But the character of Muriel doesn’t help herself because she is so extremely unlikeable anyway. A liar and a thief, she doesn’t care about swindling her parents or spinning sob stories to her best friend; maybe in the film she was an amusing fantasist, but here the character simply uses her position and charisma to deceive and break the law.

Scenes are over-extended and padded out, so that the two hours forty-five minutes feels extremely long. Most of the songs don’t move the story forward and none of them is memorable. The humour is often very lazy – joking about forgetting all the letters that can follow LGBT has been done to death, frankly – and there’s a scene and song that is based completely on their inability to remember and pronounce the surname Shkuratov – it took me back to the days of TV’s Mind Your Language, laughing at foreign accents, and no one wants to go there again. In fact a couple of the lyrics rely on stupid verbal sounds rather than words; here’s a quarter of the lyrics for the chorus of the bullying number Can’t Hang:  “See we’re like ah–ah–ah–ah–ah–ah–ah, And you’re like ugh–ugh–ugh–ugh–ugh–ugh–ugh” (the other three quarters are very similar). And here’s the refrain of Meet the Heslops: “Wowww! Wow-ow-ow What? Close one (gasp) Hah! Yeah!”  (Repeat ad nauseam).

The show frequently feels crude and lacks insight; in fact, the only insight I could get from it is how life can be like an Abba song. But even then, there is something creepy about Abba becoming gentle angels of death as they encourage Muriel’s mum Betty into suicide because she doesn’t want to be a burden on anyone. However, that’s not to criticise the Abba sequences in the show which are by far its best moments; especially Bronte Alice-Tadman and Jasmine Hackett as Anna-Frid and Agnetha, who sing superbly and truly convey that Abba feel; Aaron Tsindos’ and Jamie Doncaster’s Benny and Bjorn are comedy Scandi stereotypes that don’t do justice to the originals.

There is, fortunately, a terrific star performance from Megan Ellis as Muriel. A wonderful stage presence who can convey any emotion and whose voice is a dream; it’s a fantastic performance. Annabel Marlow is full of spirit as her friend Rhonda, and there’s a strong performance from Darren Day as Muriel’s corrupt father Bill and Laura Medforth as her brow-beaten mother Betty. And Ethan Pascal Peters is excellent as the underachieving Brice Nobes, even if the repeated jokes about his name get tedious.

The overwhelming feeling that the show gave me is a sense of sadness. Sad, obviously, because elements of the story are extremely sad, with the death of Betty, her husband Bill who only cares about himself, and the other family members who realise too late that they can’t have their mum back. But the misogyny is depressing, and it’s tough to be asked to identify with a central character who, deep down, is not a nice person. And I think it’s sad that a much-loved and admired film has been reshaped into something that basically doesn’t work.

The midweek matinee at the Curve theatre had plenty of empty seats, and I seriously doubt the ability of this show to make much of a splash after its few weeks in Leicester. It was touch and go as to whether we would leave at the interval, but the performance of Megan Ellis convinced us to go back, and to be fair it does improve a little in the second half. Muriel’s Wedding runs at the Curve until 10th May.

Two Disappointing For More!

Review – Punch, Young Vic, London, 16th April 2025

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After an afternoon following Gareth Southgate’s progress in Dear England, we continued our James Graham day with a visit to the Young Vic to see his Punch, a transfer of the 2024 Nottingham Playhouse production with the same cast and creative team. It’s based on the true story of Jacob Dunne, who killed 28 year old James Hodgkinson in 2011 with one fatal punch in an unprovoked attack. He received a two and a half year sentence for manslaughter, served fourteen months in prison, and afterwards met his victim’s parents through a restorative justice programme. He has since championed awareness of One Punch violence, the benefits of restorative justice, as well as giving support to victims of crime and violence.

Punch is based on Dunne’s own book, Right from Wrong, so you can be assured that it’s as close to the truth as possible. It’s a blistering production of a riveting story, told with compassion and humanity by a fantastic cast. Anna Fleischle’s set convincingly places you in the concrete Meadows estate in Nottingham, with dark slopes and walkways with metal bars, and you can easily imagine the kind of environment in which Jacob, Raf, Clare and others grew up. Robbie Butler’s lighting smartly takes us from day to night; one particularly imaginative effect is how it suggests the fires caused during rioting and looting. James Graham is currently unmatched in his ability to take a true life story and express it for a wider audience; his feeling for fragmented conversation is pinpoint accurate, and, as always, he blends acutely raw emotions with humour.

There are no villains here. Jacob grew up as an ordinary lad. He gave into temptations as he got older, deprioritising school in search of fun and cash; his involvement in the moment of madness that killed James and changed his life forever was triggered by a response of loyalty – his mates were involved in “action” and therefore he had to step in. That was the code of conduct. Most people would regard loyalty as a positive attribute. And so many of us are guilty of acting first and thinking afterwards; it’s just rare that it has such disastrous consequences. That’s certainly one of the take home messages of the play – to some extent, something like this could happen to so many of us.

The play also shows the devastating effect of the crime on others. This is not just a matter between Jacob, John and the legal system. John’s parents, Joan and David, are left bereft, heartbroken, and in a vacuum. They’ve no idea why their son was killed, and indeed they don’t find out until they meet Jacob during the restorative justice procedure years later. Jacob’s mother loses her job as a child minder, specifically because she is barred from the work due to the crime he committed. Thus she loses her home, her income and her physical and mental health. He becomes estranged from Sam, his younger brother, cocooned in his room, at a time when Sam needed all the support a big brother could give. They say no man is an island – that’s certainly the case here.

Aside from David Shields’ performance as Jacob, the other five cast members weave in and out of their various roles with remarkable dexterity, literally at the drop of a hat or removal of a jumper; a superb ensemble performance from them all. Alec Boaden excels as the rascally but cowardly Raf, timid, uncertain Sam and the fair-minded detective Villiers. Emma Pallant is also excellent as Jacob’s mum and probation officer Wendy; as is Shalisha James-Davis as Clare, the local girl who becomes a nurse and as Nicola, the charity worker from Remedi who brings Jacob and John’s parents together. Tony Hirst convinces in a range of diverse roles including John’s father David, finding it impossible to balance the need to move forward with his love for his lost son, unable to forgive.

Julie Hesmondhalgh is stunning as Joan; a superb portrayal of a kindly, confused, practical but anguished mother trying to make sense of it all. The scene where Joan and David meet Jacob is played with such agonising emotion that it is impossible for your eyes not to well up. But it is David Shields who stands out with his most compelling performance as Jacob. A powerful, energetic, physical stage presence; totally believable, and despite the terrible thing that Jacob did, you completely connect with him. In his first major theatre role, Mr Shields is the kind of actor you can’t stop watching when they’re on stage; surely a star career lies ahead.

The Young Vic run is almost sold out, but the production will transfer to the Apollo Theatre in September. A must-see.

Five Alive Let Theatre Thrive!

Review – Dear England, National Theatre, Olivier Theatre, London, 16th April 2025

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If you were to write a letter to your football team, what would it say? I’d write something like: Dear W*** H**, When you get it right, you get it so right, but you exasperate me when you get it wrong. However, you’re in my heart and my soul, and you’ll always be part of who I am. Then imagine sending that letter to England – if you are English, that is –  and see if it fits with your feelings about both the national football team, and the country as a whole.

James Graham’s Dear England has only been around since 2023 but is already on its third run, having transferred from the National to the West End in October 2023, and is now back at the Olivier. It’s pretty much the same production with many of the same cast but the text has been updated to take account of recent footie developments. I didn’t see it in 2023, nor was I able to catch many of the cinema screenings that followed; but I was determined to catch it this time around, having heard sensational things about it.

If you’ve been living under a rock for the last couple of years and don’t know what it’ s about, the play traces the fortunes of Gareth Southgate as England manager, from being given the job on a temporary basis for a couple of months in 2016 following the “resignation” of Sam Allardyce, to his own resignation in 2024. James Graham describes the play as a “fictionalised account of the struggles and successes of England’s football teams” although many of its characters are real people; not only the players, but the FA staff, commentators, pundits and politicians, and there’s enormous fun in recognising how accurately some of these famous people are portrayed.

Its large cast and busy staging have tremendous impact. The combination of Es Devlin’s set design, Evie Gurney’s costumes, Jon Clark’s lighting, Dan Balfour and Tom Gibbons’ sound, Ellen Kane and Hannes Langolf’s movement and, especially, Ash J Woodward’s amazing video design stay in your head long after curtain down. A dream team of creatives, if ever there was one. As an aside, the production’s use of music is incredibly effective – the association of songs with football is well known but this production brings it into powerful focus.

The story of Southgate’s approach to the job is fascinating, including how he ruffled so many feathers with his innovations, particularly the use of sports psychology, having been so damaged himself by his famous penalty miss in 1996. If anyone needed to write a Dear England letter, it was Southgate. But the play is so much more than just the story of one man’s journey. It’s also more than just the team’s development. It’s a fascinating look at what it means to be part of a team, particularly one that has existed for 150 years, and how a team deals with an outsider – in this instance, Pippa Grange, the psychologist that Southgate brings in to help. It also explores what it is like to be that outsider.

The play also considers what it means to be English, and what that famous flag represents – both positive and negative. Even more, it’s an examination of the effects of carrying the weight of the hopes of the nation on your shoulders, and how your success or failure directly affects tens of millions of people. That’s one very heavy responsibility. Fortunately, Graham’s writing balances the emotions with humour, and this is an extremely funny play, as well as bringing back all the excitement and suspense of significant moments in England games. Act One ends with the Russia 2018 World Cup, finally breaking the curse of the England penalty shoot-out, and it’s still as thrilling today as it was then.

Director Rupert Goold has created a superb ensemble to represent the England team; their interaction, movement skills and laddish boisterousness makes you forget that they are actors – you really feel that they are footballers. Everyone shows superb commitment, and whilst it is impossible to name each cast member, there are several outstanding performances. Ryan Whittle steals every scene with his uncanny and hilarious portrayal of the ultra-thoughtful Harry Kane, as does Josh Barrow as the chirpy, bouncy Jordan Pickford. Tristan Waterson is excellent as the unpredictable Dele Alli, and Jude Carmichael shows tremendous promise in his professional debut as Marcus Rashford, aloof until he can start recognising his own demons. The always reliable John Hodgkinson is superb in his several roles including FA chairman Greg Clarke; having briefly met Mr Clarke a few years ago I can personally testify what an accurate portrayal it is.

Liz White is great as Pippa Grange, employing all her character’s own skills and knowledge to survive in the challenging – and misogynistic – world into which she is thrown, and Matt Bardock is brilliant as the old school team analyst Mike Webster, struggling to keep up with Southgate’s vision for the future. Leading the squad, literally, is Gwilym Lee’s fantastic performance as Gareth Southgate; not only recreating him so accurately in appearance, but convincingly conveying that struggle between strength and vulnerability, influence and insecurity that combine to create his complex personality.

It’s a remarkable play, written with true affection, that carries us through a sea of triumphs and calamities, and ends with such a positive message – a truly feelgood work. I had expected it to be excellent – but not this excellent. If you love football, or if you consider yourself English, this play is for you. It runs at the Olivier until 24th May, then transfers to the Lowry, Salford, for a month and embarks on a UK tour (specifically England!) from September to March.

Five Alive Let Theatre Thrive!

Review – Dracula, A Comedy of Terrors, Menier Chocolate Factory, London, 12th April 2025

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At what point, I wonder, did the terrifying Count Dracula of Bram Stoker’s Gothic1897 horror novel become a figure of fun? It’s very hard to imagine a modern adaptation of the story being anything other than comical. I’m no expert on the Transylvanian terror monger, but recent re-workings of Dracula include the likes of Love At First Bite, Count Duckula, and indeed Sesame Street’s Count; and now we have Gordon Greenberg and Steve Rosen’s Dracula, A Comedy of Terrors, currently raising the roof at the Menier.

Five actors play a full cast of characters that sees estate agent Jonathan Harker travel from Whitby to Transylvania to do some house selling with Dracula – nothing unusual in that. Instantly captivated by the innocent and hapless Harker, he follows him back to Britain to seduce Harker’s intended, Lucy, and, if he can, Harker too. Lucy’s father, Lord Westfield, runs an asylum and is trying to rehabilitate one of his inmates, Renfield, back into society; the perfect setting for a cosy domestic comedy, one might say. Add to the mix Lucy’s sex-starved sister Mina, and doctor and vampire slayer Van Helsing (Mrs), and you have a hilarious hotchpotch of sexual attraction, outrageous costumes and coffins.

It’s a bright, energetic and funny production, helped by the fact that the characters all take their plight seriously. There are a couple of moments of pure stage magic when one actor has only just left the stage and is still talking offstage, when they suddenly reappear on the other side of the stage as a completely different character. I’m still trying to work out how Dianne Pilkington did that. The production mines all the usual Dracula-style gags, with some excellent physical comedy; I’m still laughing at the thought of James Daly, as Dracula, theatrically heading off into the night with a flourish of his cape, only to get completely batflap-trapped in its folds.

There’s more than a nod to Rocky Horror, not only with Dracula’s own first appearance, but also in the unexpected effect the Count has on another member of the cast – I won’t give the game away. Tijana Bjelajac’s delightful set conceals several surprises, and Tristan Raines’ costumes push the boat out with some hilarious and inventive styling.

With only Mr Daly having the one role – let’s face it, you can’t double up when you’re playing Dracula – everyone else shares a plethora of personalities, with Sebastian Torkia brilliant as both Mina and Van Helsing, Dianne Pilkington nailing both the misogynistic Westfield and the insect-eating Renfield, and Safeena Ladha playing Lucy with spirit, determination and terrific comic timing.

The secret weapon in the cast is the always outstanding Charlie Stemp, here denied any opportunities to sing or dance – although he does throw in a few steps where he can – giving us a wonderful portrayal of the chastely conservative and risk-averse Harker, clearly tempted by the kind of sexual attention he never expected. Extremely funny and ending up as a very unlikely comic hero, Mr Stemp continues to show that there’s simply nothing he can’t do on stage.

At 90 minutes with no interval, it does have the feel of an energetically ambitious Fringe production, casting risks aside and trying out everything to get a laugh. Perhaps the most surprising thing is that every attempt to get a laugh succeeds; there are no duff moments. Does it lack subtlety? You betcha. Does the hyped up Menier audience want subtlety in this production? Absolutely not. Hilarious fun, beautifully executed, and a total riot. The run at the Menier lasts until 3rd May, but I think this is a production that could easily see light of day (sorry Dracula) at some future point.

4-starsFour They’re Jolly Good Fellows!

Review – Murder She Didn’t Write, Royal and Derngate, Northampton, 14th April 2025

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Degrees of Error have been developing their Murder She Didn’t Write improvisation show for over 13 years now, and as well as their regular stint at the Edinburgh Fringe, are currently touring the UK – with a four night residence at Northampton’s Royal and Derngate. A team of fifteen or so actors mix and match their appearances, so if you see the show more than once, not only will it be a completely different story, it could well be a very different cast.

Agatha CrustyAnd if you’re an aficionado of the Art of Improv, you might well want to see it again because they’re true experts in the field. Company co-developer and co-founder Lizzy Skrzypiec introduces the show in her guise as Detective Agatha Crusty – of all the assets this show has, intellectual subtlety perhaps isn’t its raison d’être – and explains that a murder will be committed on stage and that it’s up to us to choose the occasion on which it will happen and identify a central clue vital to solving the case. The merry audience at the Royal chose a Cushion Conference – something everyone knows something about (not) – and a Pet Rock. Detective Crusty also sought an “event” that would be involved, and someone piped up with the word “dentist”, which is more of a profession than an event, but they ran with it.

All the suspectsThus ensued The Case of the Pointy Pet Rock, where William, the pet rock belonging to suspect Vernon Blue (Stephen Clements), was found stuffed in the mouth of the very dead victim Graham Green (Peter Baker), thereby suffocating them; but was it a rock plant to incriminate Blue? Might it have been Violet Blue (Sylvia Bishop), or newlyweds Roger and Bernadette Red (Douglas Walker and Rachael Procter-Lane) who were to blame? All would be revealed by the end of the show. Both Mrs Chrisparkle and I thought it was Violet. She looked shifty from the start and wasn’t convincing anyone with her predilection for recreational dentistry. Added to the fact that this all took place at the Kettering Cushion Conference Centre, her alibi was looking weak.

BernadetteI’m not a natural Improv-goer; sometimes I find it descends too much into silliness and repetitiveness. However, Murder She Didn’t Write ticks all the boxes for a very funny night of unpredictable mayhem. The training and practice required by the cast to keep their minds fresh and inventive to cope with whatever the audience – and more likely, other cast members – throw at them must be immense. There were some extremely funny scenes – I loved Ms Procter-Lane in convulsions of pleasure exploring the cushioning of the chaise longue – and the way in which they show how each of the suspects had a motive for killing poor Graham is extremely inventive and entertaining. And huge plaudits to Peter Baker for their tremendous physical comedy as a dead body sliding off a chair into a mini heap on the floor.

Green on RedEnormous fun, incredibly skilful and hugely creative, this touring version of the show runs to two hours including an interval, whilst the Edinburgh Fringe version lasts 70 minutes. No two shows will be the same and it’s perfect for anyone who likes a combination of whodunit, comedy and hilarious campy nonsense. Running at the Royal and Derngate until Thursday, but then off on its travels again, including a full four weeks in Edinburgh at the Assembly George Square. Irresistible!

 

Production photos by Pamela Raith

4-starsFour They’re Jolly Good Fellows!

Review – The Years, Harold Pinter Theatre, London, 12th April 2025

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It’s often useful to come to a theatrical production completely clueless about its content or history. That was pretty much my situation at Saturday’s matinee of The Years. I knew it had been a big success at the Almeida Theatre in 2024, I knew that it was one hour fifty-five minutes with no interval, and I knew that on some occasions they have to stop the show due to audience members’ reactions to a certain scene. But I’d never heard of Annie Ernaux, on whose book, Les Années, the play is based, nor of Eline Arbo, who adapted it and directs the production.

It’s an autobiographical account of Ms Ernaux’ life, with five actors playing her and the other people in her life. The actors are of varying ages and portray Ms Ernaux as a child, a teen/young adult, a young woman, a middle-aged woman and finally a more elderly woman (although the always incredible Deborah Findlay looks way too young to be “elderly”!) From the start, it’s an ensemble performance, with all five participating at all the stages of her life, describing photographs from the past that serve as launchpads for a scene from any particular era.

Eline Arbo’s direction is very strong on sheetography. A clean white sheet is unfolded as the backdrop for each photograph which will then be used as a tablecloth, or scrunched up to become a baby, or a garment, or a banner – the list is endless. It’s a very clever and successful device that allows our imaginations to work overtime, and all the sheets that have played a part in telling her story are hung up around the stage, like ghosts from a former time, emphasising how a person is the sum of all their experiences – and even their experiences to come. They really do get through a lot of sheets. Indeed, if there is one message that came most strongly forward to me from the production is that a person is made up of so many elements, many of which will contrast and contradict other aspects of their personality. As Walt Whitman said, I am large, I contain multitudes.

The play grows in power as it progresses; unsurprisingly, perhaps, as there’s only so much interest to be drawn from the behaviour and experiences of a child, whose prime interest appears to be following through on her early discoveries of the joys of masturbation. But as the woman gets older, has relationships, finds work and a place in the world, has an abortion – see first paragraph – then a marriage, children and develops the self-confidence and self-awareness to live her life as she sees fit, the story gets much more interesting. And whilst it is a serious play, there are some flashes of terrific humour, such as attending an overzealous exercise class, or participating in a very drunken and druggy party. There are also some surprising musical moments – I didn’t, for example, expect to find myself swaying in my seat to Desireless’ fantastic Voyage Voyage.

The performances are all superb, totally convincing with their portrayal of the gradually ageing central character, as well as all the people around her. Harmony Rose-Bremner is great as the impish young Annie; playful, mischievous, and grumpy when things don’t go her way. I also really enjoyed her performance as one of Annie’s sullen teenage sons. Anjli Mohindra takes Annie into her young adult years where she starts having to make decisions for herself and first encounters men. Tuppence Middleton is the twenty/thirty-something Annie, making the choice that now is the wrong time to have a baby and dealing with all that decision’s consequences. Gina McKee is brilliant as the middle-aged mother and divorcee, starting to find time for herself again; and Deborah Findlay pulls all the threads together as Annie looks forward to whatever time is left, managing her family as best she can and to the extent that they need it, whilst making sure her own needs remain of the prime importance.

It would be wrong not to go back to that abortion scene. It’s graphic and pulls no punches; red blood shows up strongly against a white sheet. It’s also honest and frank; there’s no attempt to dress it up politely because some things just can’t be dressed up. It’s a scene of huge dramatic intensity, performed immaculately by Tuppence Middleton. There are trigger warnings to read, and people may assume that won’t affect me, I’ll be alright; only to discover that some of us are not alright. There must have been at least six audience members throughout the auditorium who were so affected that they had to leave or, indeed, be attended to in their seats. A few minutes into the following scene, the stage manager had to come on stage and announce that the performance would be suspended whilst audience members were assisted.

I can’t stress how helpful an interval would have been. The impetus for keeping up the dramatic pressure by not having an interval needs to be weighed against the practical needs of the audience, and a scheduled break would allow people to settle, or at least for paramedics to do their work. Bizarrely, during the pause – which lasted about twenty minutes – the cast did not fully leave the stage but hovered in the wings, chatting; it seemed like a deliberate decision to do that, but whenever I’ve been in an audience where the performance has had to be paused because of a technical issue, the cast quietly go off and aren’t seen again until everything is ready to resume. Curious!

Not the Seven Ages of Man, but the Five Ages of Woman. It’s a subject that seems rarely to be addressed, and its impact is powerful. And whilst there are a few lulls in the storytelling, particularly in the first part of the play, the content builds to a very strong and memorable conclusion.

4-starsFour They’re Jolly Good Fellows!

Review – The Great Gatsby (First Preview), London Coliseum, 11th April 2025

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One hundred years and a day since the first publication of Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby – as director Marc Bruni informed us at the start of the show – Kait Kerrigan, Jason Howland and Nathan Tysen’s much expected musical launched itself on the stage of the London Coliseum to one of the most excited and receptive audiences I’ve ever witnessed. Many dressed for the occasion with sparkly flapper outfits, or old sport peaked caps; I went for my Autograph at Marks and Spencer look. And what a charming first performance gift – on every seat was a commemorative copy of the book.

If you know me IRL as the young people say, you’ll know that I’m a front stalls kind of guy; that way you can observe the facial expressions, catch any tiny mishaps and truly be a part of what’s going on. My ticket was provided by that generous chap the Squire of Sidcup (he’s moved now, but although you can take the squire out of Sidcup, you can’t etc…) as we’re both huge fans of the book and I have a significant birthday coming up. However, the Squire is more of a towards the back of the dress circle kind of guy, and at that distance, particularly in a space as vast as the Coliseum, you can’t really see the facial expressions. Added to the fact that this was the first preview, this isn’t by any means a full and incisive review – just a reaction to what I saw.

And what I saw was a sheer delight. I had no expectations of the show, in that I didn’t know the songs, and I had read no reviews of the Broadway production. Bear in mind, this a big, lavish musical that primarily concentrates on the love story, and Fitzgerald’s subtler themes of insincerity, lack of vision, material versus spiritual wealth and the failure of the American Dream all take a back seat. Many years ago we saw another staging of Gatsby, Gatz, and this is as far from that kind of adaptation as it’s possible to get.

Given the romantic angle, the show tells the story of The Great Gatsby remarkably well. It still uses Nick as its central narrative thread, it shows the heartache behind the glamour, it reveals how removed George and Myrtle are from the excesses of East Egg, and it places the timeless story firmly in its 1925 setting, with contemporary musical routines. If it lacks anything, there isn’t a lot of humour in the show; there are some nice comic moments with the likes of Daisy, Jordan and Myrtle, but the male characters are not comic types and there aren’t many laughs in the book.

As spectacle, the show is outstanding; the sets take your breath away, the lighting is stunning, the costumes are immaculate, and the eighteen-piece orchestra work their socks off. A delicate story like this could easily be shattered by excessive amplification, but every note sung – indeed every word spoken – has perfect clarity of both volume and elocution, and the singing throughout the entire show is completely fantastic. Given this was its first preview, I could not believe how seamlessly and perfectly the entire performance took place. I can’t imagine that there are any tweaks to be made between now and Press Night.

The cast are uniformly superb, headed by Jamie Muscato as Gatsby, conveying the character’s disconnect from the rest of his environment; rather like the Wizard of Oz, his reputation and influence are far greater than the substance of the man himself. I realise I’ve only seen Mr Muscato once before, way back in the days of the excellent Bend It Like Beckham; he was terrific in that, but, as they say, from little acorns… His stage presence and vocal power are extraordinary. Frances Mayli McCann is also exceptional as Daisy, full of emotion and with a fantastic voice; she’s also matched with Jon Robyns’ chillingly believable Tom – given his terrific voice, it’s a shame that Tom has no solo songs.

Rachel Tucker gives us a truly spirited and gorgeously tragic Myrtle, Amber Davies is fantastic as Jordan Baker, and – as you would expect – John Owen-Jones tremendous as Meyer Wolfsheim, a part that is built up in the show more than perhaps the book warrants. The ever-reliable Joel Montague is perfect as George, and, in his West End debut, American star Corbin Bleu is outstanding as Nick, through whose eyes all the events of the story are seen.

Beautiful to look at, glorious to hear; full of impact and entertainment, and with some stunning performances. What’s not to love?

Five Alive Let Theatre Thrive!

Review – Dara Ó Briain, Re: Creation, Bedford Corn Exchange, 9th April 2025

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A Dara Ó Briain gig is never just a mere show – it’s an event. He’s a giant in more than one way; the most expert storyteller and comic presence, even when he’s in a room with over a thousand people, you still feel that he’s confiding just in you – all these other people around us are a mirage, apart from those brave enough to sit in the front row, from whom Mr Ó B attempts to winkle out comedy nuggets that he will return to again and again throughout the evening.

We were introduced to recently redundant gas pipe replacement fitter James and his wife Kate the cyberfraud expert; Jay the secretive Luton Airport security officer who’s going to make a fortune from letting out rooms near the new Bedford Theme Park, Cambridge Micky and her Californian friend who was enticed into seeing the show in a strange mystic vision, and test driver Josh who admitted to be the youngest in the front couple of rows, at the age of 29. Once Mr Ó Briain gets his teeth into your personal details he doesn’t let go of them over the next two and a half hours, like a benevolent comedy Rottweiler.

During those two and half hours, he has plenty of opportunity to explore some delightful comic avenues, such as younger peoples’ predilection for no pubic hair, memories of Now That’s What I Call Music compilations, Irish school poo (don’t ask), and, my favourite, his experience of attending an online Speed Awareness Course. Having done one myself, Mr Ó Briain absolutely nails every single aspect of that humiliating, almost religiously contrite, couple of hours.

For his previous tour, So Where Were We, he concentrated on the story of searching for his birth parents, as he was adopted. He found his mother, but not his father. In Re: Creation, he continues the search for his father, and that gripping, gasp-inducing, but fortunately also hilarious account takes up the majority of the second half of the evening. No spoilers from me, but, apparently, the Bedford audience gave the most astonishing reaction in his tour so far to one of the revelations in the story; all I can say is, I for one was genuinely astonished, and it must have taken a good half a minute for my jaw dropping to end.

As always, Dara was on unflappable form; his quick-witted memory going into overdrive, and exuding super confidence from every pore whilst always keeping it real and taking all opportunities for a spot of self-deprecation. A great blend of both style and substance. Re: Creation is still in its early days and continues to tour the UK and Ireland over the next twelve months. Highly recommended!