Monthly Archives: May 2025

Review – Here We Are, Lyttelton Theatre at the National Theatre, London, 21st May 2025

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Sometimes creativity flows like an unstoppable stream; sometimes it sputters and falters like an airlock in a hosepipe. Such was the journey that the late great Stephen Sondheim’s final work, Here We Are, took on its forty year trek from inspiration to performance. Inspired by two Luis Buñuel films, its first act is based on 1972’s The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie, and the second on 1962’s Exterminating Angel. Separate films, but Sondheim’s music and lyrics, together with David Ives’ book, merge the two with the same set of characters creating one story.

A ruthless hedge fund manager and his superficial wife (together with her activist sister) meet with their besties, a plastic surgeon and a showbiz agent, plus the ambassador of the dubious fictional state of Miranda, to go on the hunt for brunch or lunch or whatever they can get to feed their faces. Three of those people operate a drugs cartel and another is helping plan the end of the world, but, hey, you gotta eat, right? En route they find a café with no food or drink, a bistro with a dead chef, and a brasserie with fake food. And having finally found a place to eat – at the Mirandan embassy – they find they are physically unable to leave and end up suffering agonising deprivation until some kind of cathartic sacrifice is made. Just a normal day in New York really.

Halfway through the first act I realised that the show is either total genius or utter drivel; the truth is, as is often the case, a blend of the two. There is a message peeping through, that one must live for today because, after all, here we are. Marianne, for example, spends the entire show trying to remember what it was that she was meant to do today but she can’t recall it until the end when she says she won’t say what it was, but she’ll just do it anyway. In other words: don’t talk about it; do it – a bit clumsy, but we take her point. Her understanding is helped by a conversation with a bishop (silly me, I didn’t mention the bishop – or the military personnel) trying to fathom what being alive means; clearly, she’s never seen Bobby’s conclusion in Company.

There are all sorts of threads here within a hair’s breadth of coming together but they don’t quite make it. Of course, Sondheim died four years ago and so was unable to apply his magic touch to the final product. After his death, Ives and director Joe Mantello made no changes to any of his music but continued to work on the book to adapt it to the raw materials that needed refinement.

The Sondheim element to the show remains unmistakably Sondheim. It’s light on songs – if you’re expecting a “list of musical numbers” in the programme, think again – but the first act has plenty of his trademark recitative passages which especially bring Into The Woods to mind. And there are many witty sequences, such as the Waiter’s Song lamenting his plight that he can only disappoint his customers through lack of fare, although it ends with a surprisingly bleak conclusion.

Perhaps one of the reasons the show doesn’t really work is that Sondheim and Ives try to stick too closely to the various surreal elements of the films. The endless walking, the bear and the sheep, the bishop, the catastrophic childhood of an incidental character, and so on; integrating all these elements requires a true lightness of touch which the show doesn’t really manage. We’re not so much talking inspiration, more homage, where every possible reference to the earlier works must be crammed in. Where the Buñuel originals succeed through the sheer style and surrealism of his immense cinematic art, these elements just seem faintly ridiculous on a brutally exposed stage. Few of the characters are likeable, and even the others are so lightly sketched in that we neither identify with them nor care about their plight. The ambassador, Raffael Santello di Santicci, is pure pantomime funny foreigner; a committed performance by Paulo Szot, but, surely, we should have left that kind of stuff in the 70s.

What Sondheim achieves so astoundingly in so many of his works – that insight into the human condition, how we form and sustain relationships, how we live with disappointment and failure – is disappointingly lacking here. Yes, there are characters with wasted lives, but that comes as no surprise to them. They realise it and don’t care about it – so why should we?

That said, it’s pretty much impossible to imagine a better production of this show. David Zinn’s amazing set mixes glass and chrome sterility with the comfort of a lavish embassy; individual faux-restaurants are suggested by lighting changes and fashionable fonts. Nigel Lilley’s gorgeous sounding orchestra has less to do than in most Sondheim shows but does it immaculately.

The production is overflowing with fantastic actors who make the show immensely watchable despite so much of its content. Rory Kinnear sets just the right level of privilege as Leo Brink, knowing that it won’t matter that they haven’t booked a table and that he’s still in his loungewear because he’s Leo Brink. Jane Krakowski’s Marianne is a brilliant study of a beautiful but inane wife, never changing out of her peignoir, celebrating her love of the superficial in one of the show’s most successful songs, Shine.

Jesse Tyler Ferguson has a whale of a time as plastic surgeon Paul, viciously air-kissing Martha Plimpton’s wonderfully excessively demanding Claudia. Chumisa Dornford-May has one of the best singing voices in the company and gives us a delightfully sullen Fritz, quietly but amusingly ineptly working to overthrow capitalism; she is matched by the always superb Richard Fleeshman as the Soldier, the epitome of romanticism and the only character who seems to have true emotions. His “Soldier’s Dream” is a mischievously constructed piece that delights in breaking the fourth wall and is an undoubted highlight of the show.

Cameron Johnson is a decent Colonel Martin and Harry Hadden-Paton very entertaining as the wavering, people-pleasing Bishop. Tracie Bennett brings terrific humour as well as her astounding voice to the character of “Woman” – basically, all the incidental female roles in the show – and at our performance, Edward Baker-Duly was an excellent understudy as “Man”, including that alarmingly regretful waiter and the sinister butler Windsor. Together the whole cast are a formidable team who don’t put a foot wrong, and bring a feelgood factor to a show that otherwise lacks a feelgood factor.

There are some entertaining moments and flashes of classic Sondheim, but overall the show is a draining experience. It’s a curiosity and completes one’s own private Sondheim Collection, but it doesn’t enhance the great man’s reputation; and the very heavy, unmusical second act is, frankly, an endurance test. But it is a great production, and Sondheim aficionados will want to see it under any circumstances. I can only suggest that you see it for yourself.

3-starsThree-sy Does It!

Review – The Government Inspector, Festival Theatre, Chichester, 10th May 2025

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Back in those boring Covid pandemic days, I realised that I’d never read any Gogol, and decided that was a situation that needed rectifying. So I downloaded his short stories onto my Kindle for free, and spent many a happy hour laughing my head off at his hilarious, thoroughly rude observations, pricking the pomposity of the pretentious, and noting how, two hundred years on, his truths live on and nothing much has changed.

I’d seen a production of his The Government Inspector in 2011, and although it was something of a critical success, I wasn’t overly impressed. It was a sloppy show that went for cheap laughs and camped it up over the top, even though it thought itself to be a true smartypants of a production. Surely, Chichester, with a new version directed by Gregory Doran, will do a slicker job of it. I assumed.

This production has gone – largely – for a traditional approach, with a truly 1830s setting, costumes and music. The opening scene shows much promise, with all the officials of the town in a panic because a government inspector is in their midst and they all fear he will root out their corruption, bribe taking and inefficiency, thereby ruining their lovely lives. In true Gogol style, no time is wasted getting to the heart of the play, and it’s performed with urgency and commitment. Good start.

However, then everything just grinds to a complete halt. Whilst the audience is now ready to see this government inspector for themselves, Gogol instead introduces us to the mayor’s wife and daughter, bickering petulantly and tediously about nothing much. And the pace that had been built up in the first scene instantly collapses. It’s not a very funny conversation and it doesn’t get many laughs. By the time the scene is over and we go on to the inn where the Inspector (it isn’t the inspector by the way – it’s a joke of mistaken identity) and his man are staying with no intention of paying for their board and lodging, it’s amazing how little we care about any of them. As the play progresses, we realise how completely unlikeable every character in the story is, and no amount of pomposity-pricking is going to do anything to improve it.

The staging doesn’t help; the opening scene ranges widely over the huge Festival Theatre stage, using every inch available; but the second scene is very static and just takes place on two chairs at the front, and the third scene is crammed into a tiny part of the stage, which literally prevents its characters from breathing. You feel you want to somehow release them from their confinement.

A fool and his money are soon parted, goes the saying, and that is at the heart of the play. Each town officer does his best to bribe Khlestakov, the (non-) inspector, and as that wretch realises what is going on, his requests for money get bigger and bigger. At the end, the entire town has made an idiot of itself, and our anti-hero has sped off, cash in hand, looking for some other sad saps to dupe. It’s a very credible cautionary tale. But this production is most definitely not the sum of its parts. Too much shouting, inadequate use of the stage, some roles bizarrely underplayed whilst others are overplayed, it feels very unbalanced. There’s not enough light and shade, and despite their best efforts you never really get an understanding of the peril that the townspeople face. Individual rounds of applause are reserved for the three musicians who pop up during scene changes, and for an amusing but hardly original design trick of having a little carriage dart all around the stage, depicting the escape of the villainous clerk Khlestakov and his servant Osip. I saw that done in On The Twentieth Century in 1978 – it was mildly amusing then and it’s mildly amusing now.

True to Gogol, the play ends with a final tableau for what feels like at least a minute, daring individual audience members to start the final applause, whilst most of us just sit uncertain and uncomfortable at what we’re seeing. Whilst I admire this faithfulness to the original text, it does put the audience through an ocean of odd reactions and emotions, and you just want to look away!

There are some successful performances – Lloyd Hutchinson is good as the Mayor, a fiery mass of anxiety and overconfidence, and Miltos Yerolemou and Paul Rider work together excellently as Bobchinsky and Dobchinsky, the two minor officials who are almost two parts of the same body. Nick Haverson gives the best performance of all as Osip, the servant, ruthlessly and viciously putting his own interests first, no matter what his master wants.

Sylvestra le Touzel and Laurie Ogden play the mother and daughter looking and sounding like Mrs Slocombe and Liz Truss, which is an alarming visual prospect; for me, their performances never felt credible or, sadly, entertaining. Tom Rosenthal’s Khlestakov is a competent performance but neither larger than life enough to convince us of his importance, nor measly enough to convey truthfully that he is a smalltown clerk.

I’ve never seen a Saturday night Festival theatre audience so empty, and I’m afraid it was even emptier after the interval. The comedy gets lost in the franticness, and this production simply doesn’t work.

 

Two Disappointing For More!

Review – The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry, Minerva Theatre, Chichester, 10th May 2025

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Our summer Chichester season for 2025 kicked off with a new musical based on Rachel Joyce’s book, The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry, with music and lyrics by Passenger and the book by Joyce herself. I’m not familiar with the original novel, which was longlisted for the 2012 Man Booker Prize, nor the film of 2023 starring Jim Broadbent, nor the musical back-catalogue of Passenger, so I approached the show with no expectations or preconceptions whatsoever – often a good thing.

A deceptively simple story, it tells the tale of the retired Harold Fry who, having received a letter out of the blue from an old friend and work colleague, Queenie, saying that she’s now living in a hospice in Berwick upon Tweed, decides, on a whim, to walk all the way from Devon to Berwick to visit her. On his way, he meets various people whose lives he enriches by his kindness and simple determination, and who in turn affect him and his view of the world. His influence grows and he becomes so inspirational that he’s an unintentional Insta sensation! Initially it infuriates his wife, Maureen. Their marriage had become stale and grumpy because of a breakdown in communication, but eventually both come to terms with a re-evaluation of their lives.

Samuel Wyer’s design for the show is also simple and straightforward; a bare stage, but with tables, chairs, shop fronts, front doors, and so on all rapidly wheeled on and off to suggest the various locations of the story. Katy Rudd’s ensemble of actors all work their socks off to get the settings into position, bringing props on and off the stage with impressive dexterity; and there are some terrifically unexpected costume changes, such as when “Garage Girl” sheds her shop assistant’s uniform to reveal a shiny, glitzy blue tasselled outfit worthy of Diana Ross and the Supremes.

It’s a very charming, emotional, show; closer to The Hired Man than 42nd Street, but you probably guessed that already. All the characters in the story go on a journey, not just Harold and his big trek, but all the people he meets en route; and it’s not just a physical journey. All those aspects of ourselves that we never have the time or opportunity in everyday life to consider, those abilities or talents, those hidden passions, those secret truths, all come out along the way. It’s always rewarding when, at the end of a play, a book or film, you’ve been taken to a different place from where you went in, and The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry does that with great success.

The music truly helps us all on the journey, with delightful songs that move the story forward. Three such gems are Walk Upon the Water, which encourages Harold to have the courage of his convictions, Shout it From the Rooftops when the Silver Haired Gentleman is convinced that it’s finally time for him to be honest about his sexuality, and Such is Life, sung by the Farmer’s Wife, which is one of the most positive statements I’ve ever heard about coming to terms with childlessness. The style of music also heavily suggests countryside, not just bucolic bliss, but nature red in tooth and claw too. There’s nothing romantic or tranquil about the state of Harold’s feet after walking that far. And there are lessons to be learned about the power of thought too.

The production boasts some terrific performances. Jack Wolfe, just about the only good thing about the RSC’s ghastly Magician’s Elephant a few years ago, here plays “The Balladeer”, a kind of spirit character who both encourages and influences Harold on his journey as well as narrating the story. He has a fragile, ethereal stage presence perfect for the role and a brilliant voice to boot. His significance develops as the tale unfolds, but I’m not going to spoil that revelation for you.

Sharon Rose is also superb in the roles of Garage Girl and Kate, a powerful, comedically gifted performer with a great voice and presence. Tarinn Callender excels in many roles but particularly as Wilf, Fry’s number one Pilgrim. And there’s fantastic support from Amy Booth-Steel as the Farmer’s Wife, Queenie and other roles, Don Gallagher as the Silver Haired Gentleman and the dreadful Mr Napier, Madeleine Worrall as Sister Philomena at the hospice, and knock-out puppetry from Timo Tatzber who brings “Dog” to life with such character and lovability.

The always tremendous Jenna Russell is on top form as Maureen, although it is a shame that she has so few singing opportunities; and Mark Addy is excellent as Harold, the pivotal character to whom things happen rather than his making them happen. His is a curious character in many regards, perhaps more notable for what he is not than what he is; but Mr A commands the stage with natural authority.

It tells its story clearly and packed with emotion – there’s a desperate rush for the Handy Andies at the end, so be warned. A very clever combination of the powerful and the gentle which makes you feel just that little bit more hopeful for mankind at the end.

P. S. Neighbour Rex traces Fry halfway around the country and meets up with him so that Maureen can Facetime him; Harold left in such a hurry he forgot to take his mobile with him. But why the heck doesn’t Rex bring Harold’s phone, to give him? It makes no sense! That blip in the logic of the piece really annoyed me!

P. P. S. I humbly suggest they could do with changing the title of the song, You’re Fucked. Not through any sense of prudishness, but they ought to take a leaf out of A Chorus Line’s book. In that show’s early try-outs, people would look at the programme before the show, see that there was a song called Tits ‘n’ Ass, have a good chuckle about it, and then not laugh much when it appeared during the show. They then decided to rename it Dance Ten Looks Three so that the surprise could be hidden until the last moment. Similarly, the audience for Harold Fry has a good chuckle when they see there’s a song called You’re Fucked; as a result, that means it has less of an impact during the show. Just call it The Doctor’s Song instead!

4-starsFour They’re Jolly Good Fellows

 

Review – The Comedy About Spies, Noel Coward Theatre, London, 13th May 2025

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London 1961. MI6 and the CIA are competing to stop the KGB from gaining the secret weapon that could put an end to the USA – so, quite an important mission, then. Le Carré? Fleming? No – it’s the return of Mischief Theatre and their new madcap comedy about spies, innovatively entitled The Comedy About Spies.

Henry Lewis’ and Henry Shields’ brilliant new show creates ridiculously fanciful situations and manages to cram in every conceivable joke along the way whilst always maintaining a tiny foothold on reality and a genuine sense of peril, vital ingredients for successful farce. So when the unwitting hopeless romantic Bernard Wright accidentally parachutes himself into a sea of espionage by surprising his girlfriend Rosemary at her bankers’ conference (clue: it isn’t a bankers’ conference), there’s never any doubt that his life is in danger from all the double and triple-crossing, nor is there any doubt that he will nevertheless win the day.

The comedy standard is established from the very beginning with a marvellously silly MI6 scene of multiple confusion over Codename letters which works so well because the characters take it seriously even though it’s outrageously barmy. The laughter never lets up with a combination of superb physical comedy – Dave Hearn’s super keen CIA agent Lance Buchanan does some amazing stunts; beautifully funny characterisations – Henry Lewis’ vain actor Douglas Woodbead stands out; and terrifically ludicrous wordplay. One of my favourite moments was the question Have you seen Rosemary? to which the perplexed answer is the lady or the herb?

Perhaps the most surprising aspect to The Comedy About Spies is that, despite its profound silliness and extraordinary plot twists, it makes sense as a thriller, and the denouement (for want of a better word) genuinely creates some gasps of amazement from the already thrilled audience.

David Farley’s superb set also helps the comedy go with a swing, with a charmingly convincing foyer of the Hotel Piccadilly, but perhaps best with the brilliant dolls’ house effect creation of four hotel bedrooms in a colour coded box, which amplifies the out of one door and into another aspect of the farce, and includes wonderful comic pratfalls involving a hole in the floor/ceiling, phone wires extending in and out of different rooms and a seagull in the wardrobe (obvs). There’s also an excellent representation of the lift shaft that Bernard bravely navigates, enhanced by Johanna Town’s subtle and clever lighting. And there’s a couple of chest-hurtingly hilarious moments featuring projectile dummies and immaculate comic timing.

The cast are uniformly superb, acting as a terrific ensemble as well as bringing fantastic characterisations to every role. Henry Lewis is one of those actors who can make you laugh with the glint of an eye, and his robust thespian Woodbead is a brilliant creation, whether constantly getting his tuxedo Shiraz’d, or playing out a hopeless audition as the next James Bond to the wrong audience; and I loved the running joke of his being either an actor or a cricketer.Dave Hearn excels with his physical comedy, Charlie Russell and Chris Leask are hilarious as the Soviet spies, she all hard-nosed ruthlessness and he all trying to understand the backstory of his cover persona. Nancy Zamit is great as the CIA agent’s mom, encouraging her son to be the best spy he can be – or is she???Greg Tannahill is a delight as the hotel manager going out of his way to gain five stars for his establishment, andAdele James is fantastic as the long suffering Rosemary, fighting off the advances of Bernard whilst trying to forward her own agenda. And Henry Shields’ Bernard is a hilarious characterisation of an innocent abroad, doing his best to make sense of all the spying whilst he’s only comfortable in the world of baked goods.

A riot from start to finish, minutely planned, plotted and executed, with blisteringly good performances and every opportunity taken to make you laugh. Outstanding!

 

 

Five Alive, Let Theatre Thrive!

Review – Comedy Crate at the Charles Bradlaugh, Northampton, 8th May 2025

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Thursday saw another bumper package of comedy at the Charles Bradlaugh, Northampton, courtesy of the Comedy Crate, including a last minute change of cast which propelled natural headliner Matt Richardson into the role of MC, and what a brilliant host he was. Perfectly mixing the usual duties of getting to know the crowd with delivering excellent original material, he kept the comedic bar very high throughout the evening.

So not only did we get to meet investment fraud investigator Samantha – who turned Matt’s tax bill material back on him to blistering effect – we also discovered eighteen year old twins Tighe (?) and Felix, who accepted all the teasing that deserved like the well brought-up good sports they clearly are. Matt also told us stories of life in his rural Oxfordshire village, with his pushy GP friend and the posh geezers who hang around the Sainsburys Local. Brilliant and very believable observations of wannabe tough lads who can’t help the fact that they’re called Julian and go skiing twice a year. Fantastic stuff!

Either by gifted booking or hilarious chance, to celebrate VE night we had comics from all over the world. All three acts were new to us, which always makes for an exciting line up. First off was Hubert Mayr, a 39 year old Austrian stuck in a London which he can’t afford – he should come to Northampton, things are much cheaper here. Much of his material is based on how he came to the UK in the first place, and how he is planning to return to Austria soon. He has an engagingly nervous energy which belies his Schwarzeneggar style voice but works very well with his observations as an outsider on life in the UK. Extremely funny material that gently harks back to the war, but with some modern gems too, such as how to deal with noisy neighbours. Very entertaining!

Next up was Blank Peng, from a quiet, rural area of China that only has about 40 million inhabitants. Great attacking delivery with excellent material that compares life in the UK with China and particularly grapples with those elements of her homeland that make the Brits uncomfortable – child labour, TikTok data-harvesting, and nuclear war for starters. Despite a strong accent which I must confess meant I didn’t catch everything she said at first, she has adopted beautiful idiomatic use of the English language which makes her material even more hard-hitting and relatable. Some surprising engagement with the audience too!

Our headliner was Mike Rice from Ireland, who creates an instant rapport with his very matey persona – he’s definitely the kind of performer you can imagine sharing a pint with. On the day that a new (American) Pope was proclaimed, he had some terrific material about what that means for the Catholic Church. Leading his funny stories on to  where angels fear to tread, he had me in hysterics with his vision of Donald Trump being taken from behind in jail by a tiny Mexican, and he has atruly hilarious sequence about a threesome and the special support that his pal was able to lend during the process. Effortlessly funny, and absolutely first class!

As we head into the summer, the Comedy Crate goes into Edinburgh Preparation mode, with many Fringe Previews lined up all over town (and indeed the county), with the highlight being the Comedy Crate Weekender on 12th – 13th July. Not to be missed!