Review – The Comedy Crate presents British Comedian of the Year Northampton Heat, Cheyne Walk Club, Northampton, 18th September 2025

The British Comedian of the Year contest is always an exciting event and it’s a privilege that one of the heats is held in Northampton, courtesy of those nice people at The Comedy Crate. This year in the hallowed chambers of the Cheyne Walk Club, nine hopefuls girded their loins with the prospect of being one of two acts chosen by the audience to progress to the next round.

Introduced by the upbeat and ebullient Ian Hayes, the nine acts were broken into chunks of three, with an interval between acts three and four, and between six and seven. After the final act had performed there was an online vote (oooh) and everyone could choose their two favourites.

First off was Sam Coade, who hit the ground running with some excellent routines and some quite off-beat and daring material. It’s impressive how he can carry a silence without concern – something many comedians rarely risk trying – and it worked well to build an understanding of his material. I loved the ambulance driver routine, and his throwaway icebreaker with the audience member on stage was audaciously hilarious.

Rob Coleman followed; we’d seen him once before at the Leicester Comedy Festival in 2018, and his material is still very much in the same vein – using his older looks, grumpy disposition and mad professor hair as a vehicle for convincing us he’s a sex symbol. It’s the comedy of irony, and you either like it or you don’t.

Before the first interval came Benny Shakes; and I’m sure that’s not his real surname. An imposing stage presence, he uses the fact that he has cerebral palsy to excellent comic effect, with an effective delivery, strong punchlines and some very nice callbacks. Very likeable and funny, he brought the first section of the night to a very happy conclusion.

Act number four was Dudley’s own Danny Clives, an unassuming, self-effacing stage presence and someone who uses a “one of life’s losers” persona, which is always risky but Danny nails it, with excellent timing and some clever material. He went down very well with the audience.

Next was Ryan Kenny, with probably the most surreal act of the night. Comic, poet and an element of clown thrown in, his set is very well crafted and executed, and very original, where he basically performs his material twice because he wasn’t happy with it the first time. There’s a lot of talent here; in my opinion, he just needs to make it funnier somehow. But it’s very inventive and entertaining, nonetheless.

Sarah Johnson came next, with some delightfully ribald material and some very funny observations about family life. I felt that she never quite hit her stride, but her description of menopausal symptoms and side effects gave rise to probably the best line of the night.

Our final cluster started with Norwegian Henning Nilsen, with some good material on what it’s like to be a Scandi abroad, why Norway is better than Sweden, and what would have happened if the Vikings had won. He has a solid delivery and confident style, and I think in time he will become a force to be reckoned with.

Our penultimate act, and someone we’ve seen a couple of times, was Peter Brush, another exponent of the “life loser” persona, but with expert, controlled delivery, and material that always ends with a powerful and very funny punchline. Perhaps his stories take a little too long to get to those punchlines, but they’re always worth the wait.

And finishing us off, so to speak, was Rik Goodman, who cuts a rather mysterious and aloof figure on stage, and who quietly builds his material up over the course of the act. Very nicely and subtly self-deprecating, and with very confident delivery, his content did seem rather fixated on penis size, which I think is something most of us can only take so far. Rather like with Mr Coleman earlier, this is something that either works for you or doesn’t.

Then came the voting! An easy to operate app simply asked for the audience’s top two acts – you didn’t have to nominate them in first or second place. And the results came through very quickly. In third place was Benny Shakes, and there was a tie for first place between Sam Coade and Danny Clives. Personally, I only voted for one of those three, but I feel it’s a very fair result; and good luck to Sam and Danny when they go on to fight again in the later stages of the competition!

Review – Breaking the Code, Royal and Derngate, Northampton, 16th September 2025

The debt that we owe Alan Turing cannot be underestimated. Not only for his vital and secret work in cracking the Enigma code, which fundamentally changed the course of the Second World War, but also his understanding of the potential that computers can contribute to the world. The young, idealistic, fresh-faced Turing would dream of an electronic machine that could, with encouragement from Man, think for itself. A pipe dream, surely? But one look at how AI is already encroaching on everything we see on our smartphones is enough to realise that Turing’s vision has come true.

Morcom, Turing, SaraBut Turing was much more than just a brilliant brain, as Hugh Whitemore’s gripping and heartbreaking Breaking the Code makes crystal clear. Whilst at Sherborne school he became emotionally, and possibly sexually, attached to young Christopher Morcom, a fellow student who tragically died of tuberculosis at the age of 18; such an event would devastate anyone. The true nature of their friendship remains the subject of speculation, but it was Turing’s homosexuality, at a time when sex between men was illegal, and considered a matter of gross indecency, that would dominate his private life and lead to his eventual downfall.

Turing and DillyOriginally produced in 1986, Breaking the Code has truly stood the test of time and today feels more relevant than ever. This new production is co-produced by the Royal and Derngate with Landmark Theatres and the Oxford Playhouse, in association with the Liverpool Everyman & Playhouse and HOME, Manchester, and will tour after completing its run in Northampton. Whitemore chose a complex structure – would you expect anything else from Turing? – that plays with time, starting with his initial meeting with detective Mick Ross, reporting a somewhat vague and unlikely burglary, then following Turing’s journey from school to Bletchley Park, interspersed with his friendships with chief cryptographer Dilly Knox and co-worker Pat Green, his continued association with Sherborne, his involvement with the duplicitous Ron Miller, and the increasing suspicions of the police. Drawing the various influences in his life together in this non-sequential manner increases our sense of the overall patchwork which combined to form the man, and Jesse Jones’ clear direction removes any complications so that the story is easy to follow.

Nikos and TuringAn epilogue scene has been added by Neil Bartlett which brings Turing’s legacy into the present day, and emphasises how, over the intervening years, Turing has been fully recognised as a hero and pardoned for his “crime”. It ends the play on a high note of positivity and optimism, but it also brings into sharp focus the fact that those hard-fought rights for equality we take for granted remain perilously close to being lost with no more than an ill-advised X on a ballot paper.

Turing, SmithJonathan Fensom’s simple set works hand-in-hand with Johanna Town’s evocative lighting, with just occasional changes of props and furniture, to suggest all the locations of the story. One very clever trick, just to light the top windows of the set, instantly places us in Turing’s prison cell. Fensom’s costumes also accurately convey the middle-class, educated world of Bletchley Park and Sherborne, with a decent contrast in the epilogue where the sixth former enjoys a relaxed uniform and the modern staff watching him include a recognisably modern PE teacher.

TuringAt the heart of the production is a verbally demanding, robust performance by Mark Edel-Hunt, powerfully conveying Turing’s mental dexterity and his outward reserve that conceals an emotional turmoil within. His ability to make complicated ideas sound comprehensible means that when he gets overcome with the excitement of his work, he loses his stammer and becomes an effortless communicator. Rarely off stage, Mr Edel-Hunt convinces you that he is the real Turing, with a fully rounded portrayal of both man and brain.

Nikos, TuringEngaging in a polite but firm battle of wits with him is Niall Costigan’s detective Mick Ross, suspicious from the start, bearing no ill will but just doing his job. Peter Hamilton Dyer gives a scene-stealing performance as the aging, eccentric, but incisive Dillwyn Knox, and Susie Trayling is superb as both Turing’s formal mother Sara, emotionally distant yet full of surprises, and the wryly intimidating Intelligence Officer Smith. The always reliable Joe Usher is brilliant as Ron, eyeing up Turing as a vehicle for cash; and there’s great support from both Joseph Edwards as Morcom and the Sixth Former, and Carla Harrison-Hodge as Pat.

Turing, Ross, MillerTwo memorable scenes stand out: the riveting moment where Ross interviews both Turing and Miller separately, but it appears that all three are crowded around the table at the same time, in a fantastic piece of direction from Jones. There’s another great scene where Pat and Turing are having a picnic meet-up and he tells her of his oestrogen treatment; he laughs at it, but the archaism and cruelty of the punishment make the laughter ring hollow today. He then goes on to say he should have married Pat without an ounce of self-awareness and Ms Harrison-Hodge’s facial reaction is a treat!

Pat, TuringA play that’s both hard-hitting drama but also filled with rewarding comedy, given a clear and timely revival full of immaculate performances. After Northampton, the tour starts in Barnstaple, then goes on to Oxford, Peterborough, Liverpool and Manchester. Highly recommended!

 

Production photos by Manuel Harlan

Five Alive, Let Theatre Thrive!

Review – Hamlet, Minerva Theatre, Chichester, 8th September 2025

I can never resist a production of Hamlet, arguably the best play in the English language, and I was intrigued to see what that splendid actor Giles Terera would make of the titular role. Unfortunately, the only date that suited us was an early preview of the production, in fact only the second public performance, so I am fully expecting much of what we saw to have been subject to change before the press night.

Director Justin Audibert’s stated aim with this production is to emphasise the atmosphere of spying and paranoia that dominates the text. Spying? Yes indeed. Examples include Polonius spying on Hamlet behind the arras, and Claudius sending Rosencrantz and Guildenstern to spy on him and report back. Paranoia, however, is the erroneous suspicion that people are out to get you; and in Hamlet, such suspicion is perfectly justified, not erroneous. So I don’t think that Audibert’s production succeeds in conveying a sense of paranoia.

What it does, very successfully, is suggest a very dark society; gloomy, anxious, in literal need of illumination. Ryan Day’s lighting is subdued and subtle until he turns the bright lights on when it becomes brash and overwhelming. Jonathan Girling’s intriguing and tuneful musical compositions link the scenes quietly but compellingly. Lily Arnold’s stark wasteland of a set suggests dusty, infertile earth – something could easily be rotten in that state – with an upstairs stage box from where Claudius and Gertrude can watch the Players at work, doubling up as Gertrude’s bed chamber; safely detached and away from the sordid machinations of the hoi polloi. Another enclosed balcony to the side looks like an Elsinore version of a lean-to and only allows a small degree of visibility to the audience, but it’s a perfect position from which to spy.

Elsewhere, there are a couple of odd directorial choices; why is it Gertrude who crowns King Claudius? And (spoiler alert) in Ophelia’s final appearance the audience is left in no doubt from her dress that she has recently suffered a miscarriage; clearly that’s the interpretation that Audibert deduces from Hamlet and Ophelia’s relationship, yet earlier in the play there has been very little suggestion of any intimacy between the two at all. In fact, one of the most notable aspects to this production is how clinical and cold the emotions are. Hamlet’s reflections on Alas poor Yorick, often an opportunity for a note of genuine sadness and regret, come across as very half-hearted and tentative. Even at the moment when Claudius realises Gertrude has drunk the poison, he conveys all the emotion of that brief moment of annoyance when you can’t remember why you’ve gone into the bedroom.

At three hours and thirty minutes, it is a long production; and whilst the first act rips by, the second act slows to a laboured pace. The climax chosen on which to end Act One (the moment Hamlet steals up behind the praying Claudius and is ready to strike him dead) doesn’t work, because there’s no real dramatic lead-up to this moment and the audience knows full well he’s not going to kill him at this point. It feels false. Elsewhere, well acted though it is, the gravediggers’ scene seems immensely too long and could do with some extensive pruning; and they’ve extended the role of Osric to cover two other minor roles, which detracts from the character’s final scene foppish impact.

There are, however, plenty of good characterisations and scenes. Geoff Aymer’s ghost is an ethereal, gasping presence who really would terrify you if he appeared on your battlements at night. Sam Swann’s Horatio is a warm and supportive friend to Hamlet, and Tim Preston and Jay Saighal’s Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are much more than the vacuous ciphers that they’re often portrayed. Sara Powell is a very credible Gertrude, with no hidden agenda and no suspicious side to her character, just a kindly mother and wife who wants to do her best under the circumstances. Keir Charles is a superb Polonius, again very believable and realistic, sharing his suspicions and concerns about Hamlet in a series of delightful interactions with the audience; pompous and self-serving, but not in an alienating way, so that he becomes the audience’s favourite. Eve Ponsonby gives us a powerful, hysterical Ophelia who has completely lost control of her senses. And, if you enjoy stage combat like me, the swordfight at the end is genuinely exciting to watch.

I have some uncertainty about two of the main performances but hope that they will have become more rounded by the time press night comes around. Ryan Hutton’s Laertes is fine in his opening scenes but on his return after the death of Polonius, he tends to shout and stab at his lines, rushing through them without much meaning. And Ariyon Bakare’s Claudius is the opposite, giving us a rather quiet and underplayed performance, repressing the character’s sentiments rather than releasing them. But hopefully these performances will have borne fruit by now.

I always think it’s important to establish just how mad or otherwise the character of Hamlet is; and Giles Terera convinces me all along as being 100% sane, with his hawks and handsaws clearly demarcated for all to see. Comfortable with those he trusts and very suspicious of those he doesn’t, his soliloquies are for the most part well-paced and clear, and his storytelling is convincing. Like the rest of the production, his emotions seem sometimes oppressed; but it’s a believable and honest performance that holds the production together well.

It’s atmospheric and easy to follow (you can’t always say that about Hamlet), although perhaps it lacks a little theatrical magic. I was surprised at the number of people (maybe 10% of a sold-out audience) who did not return after the interval, as it’s a perfectly solid production, gimmick-free and respectful of the text. Hopefully time has ironed out any problems it faced during previews, which would probably merit an extra star!

3-starsThree-sy Does It!

Review – The Two Gentlemen of Verona, Royal Shakespeare Company at The Other Place, Stratford-upon-Avon, 30th August 2025

The Two Gentlemen of Verona never seems much of an attraction for theatre makers. In my fifty-five plus years of theatregoing, I’ve only seen it performed once before, in a 2011 highly modernised version where Valentine and Proteus were rock guitarists, and the director couldn’t decide whether to reveal the unseemly aspects of the play or just do it for laughs. Fast forward fourteen years to Joanna Bowman’s production of the play for the RSC, in another highly modernised version where all the actors are musicians and they deal with the unseemly aspects of the play by removing them completely.

StagingThat’s possibly just as well, as this (now closed) production was very much aimed at introducing young people to Shakespeare, with musical numbers, broad comedy and a real live dog. Already one of Shakespeare’s shortest plays, the cuts to the text brought the show in at just around an hour and half with no interval. On the face of it, it sounds like a decent experiment in modernising, shortening and adjusting the emphasis of the play to make it meaningful and entertaining to a family audience.

Musician castHowever, regrettably there was so much that was wrong with this production that it failed to spark any interest in the plot, and those 90 minutes or so felt interminably long. Basics first: the staging. The Other Place is a marvellous acting space that can be configured differently every time it’s used. For this production, it wasn’t so much performed in the round as in the square, and there were too many sequences where the actors simply had their backs to half the audience, and did not move around sufficiently to keep themselves properly visible to the whole auditorium. In addition, there was a huge metal walkway suspended over the acting space, linking two opposite corners, which allowed for actors to walk from one end to the other or indeed to suspend in the middle. This walkway was directly in front of the upstairs seats, so any actors who were performing at the far end of the stage were obscured; to be honest, it looked like they had their heads cut off. Not a great experience for the upstairs audience.

Two GentsThe main purpose of a theatre production must be to tell its story as clearly as possible. Sadly, I found this production very difficult to follow, certainly due in part to the machete that they’d taken to the original text. For example, it wasn’t until the final scene where the Duke pardons the outlaws that it was obvious that they were outlaws because he had banished them. There also seemed to be no explanation as to why Julia became Sebastian – it just sort of happened. The musical numbers came across as noisy and unclear – a very muddy reverberating sound that made the words difficult to hear, individual instruments doing solos could not be distinguished above the general noise; and two of the lead actors seemed to me to be overacting alarmingly. I don’t know if this was an attempt to make their words clearer to younger ears, but I’m afraid I found it rather hard to take them seriously.

Launce and CrabThey do say, never work with children or animals; nevertheless, here we had Lossi the lurcher, playing the role of Crab, Launce’s dog. I’m sure he’s a good dog and a lovely chap, but he added very little to the proceedings – there were a couple of instances where I think he was meant to do some kind of trick or endearing action, but he just sat there and looked bored. Maybe he took his cue from the audience, because sadly I found this a very dull production, with very little to entertain.

The DukeOf course, it wasn’t all bad. The scene where the Duke (Darrell Brockis) catches Valentine (Jonny Khan) hiding the rope ladder in order to rescue and escape with Silvia was very amusingly done, and the production gave us a fairly good understanding of the character of Proteus (Lance West) and his far from gentlemanly ways. But unfortunately, the good aspects weren’t enough to redeem this disappointing production.

 

Production photos by Helen Murray

Two Disappointing for More!