Review – 45 Years, Minerva Theatre, Chichester, 17th June 2026

Posted on June 20, 2026 by therealchrisparkle

We can’t change what happened in our previous relationships, before we met our current partners, can we? Provided we’re honest about them? That’s one of the questions that is touched on, although not fully explored, in Hannah Patterson’s adaptation of Andrew Haigh’s film 45 Years, presently at the Minerva Theatre in Chichester.

Before Geoff met and married Kate, he was holidaying in Switzerland with his previous girlfriend, Katja, who came to an untimely death by falling into a glacier. Her body was never found or recovered – until, in a bolt from the blue 45 years later, Geoff receives a letter from the Swiss authorities informing him that her body has been found, still trapped in the ice. Obviously, this would be upsetting news to anyone, bringing back those awful days at the time of her death. But what now? Should he do anything about it? Travel to Switzerland to view the body? After all, he’s no spring chicken. And why did the authorities contact him, 45 years later, at an address that they wouldn’t have known about – unless he’d been keeping them updated?

Perhaps the ultimate question is, can Geoff and Kate’s solid, if unexciting, marriage withstand going over old emotions and allegiances without breaking, glacier-like, under the pressure? The play attempts to analyse the family unit without ever making anything too obvious, or overstated. Obsessions are suggested and secrets are suspected without being fully exposed. As Geoff tries to balance his feelings today with 45 years ago, Kate makes tiny discoveries which suggest that Geoff and Katja were perhaps more established as a couple than she realised. When Kate asks Geoff if, had she not died, would he and Katja have married, and he concludes that they would have done, you can feel the knife silently piercing her heart. Of course, that was before they had met, and all’s fair in love and war. But how come he had never told her before? How come she had never asked?

Let’s look at the facts: Geoff’s first girlfriend was Katja; she died in mysterious circumstances. He then married Kate. If she discovers that Katja’s death was anything other than a tragic accident, will he bump her off before he next marries, say, Katarina? As Johnny Nash once said, there are more questions than answers. The problem with 45 Years is that it offers us an immensely intriguing set-up but deprives us of any real resolutions. Maybe Geoff and Kate survived 45 years by simply not talking to each other. Prasanna Puwanarajah’s direction certainly suggests they live as separately as possible even when in the same room – there’s no sofa here in James Cotterill’s anodyne set, their separate chairs are always placed at a distance from each other. 45 Years is a delicate, repressed little play, more of an intellectual challenge than an emotional one. Any passion is firmly controlled – voices are rarely raised and tempers are rarely frayed. It’s all very artfully done but it doesn’t feel like real life.

Whilst the cream carpeted set reflects absolutely the blandness of Geoff and Kate’s marriage, Guy Hoare’s lighting design nicely accentuates critical plot development moments (such as they are). The device of having occasional dripping water from the ceiling could be construed as suggesting potential cracks in their relationship; or, as Mrs Chrisparkle more cynically suggested, it merely indicated that their roof was leaking.

Certainly, the powerhouse pairing of Gabriel Byrne and Geraldine James as Geoff and Kate provides the impetus that the play needs to see it through its full 80 minutes. Ms James is especially watchable, conveying Kate’s thought processes with tremendous clarity, including those moments when she decides she doesn’t want to think anymore. After all, she’s discovering that, just maybe, she has played second fiddle in Geoff’s affections for all these years. Gabriel Byrne’s Geoff is more eloquent in the things he doesn’t say, or perhaps those things he’s forced to say but he’d sooner keep hidden. Between them they do their best to bring to life the text’s intricate cross-shading of various hues of grey, frustrating an audience desperate for answers, but being true to the characters. Gillian Bevan plays their friend Lena, primarily there to add a little variety to the grey, but in every practical sense creating even more vacuum between Geoff and Kate.

This is a Marmite production. I came out of it a little frustrated by the storyline but very impressed with the acting and the fascinating premise. My three theatre companions all sported various levels of unimpressed, including the always damning that’s 80 minutes of my life I’m never getting back. The truth, as ever, is probably somewhere between the two. However, there are elements to the play that stretch the imagination thinner than the surface of a glacier. If that slide projector’s been up in the attic for 45 years, Kate is immensely incurious!

Three-sy Does it!

Review – Atonement, Chichester Festival Theatre, 17th June 2026

Posted on June 19, 2026 by therealchrisparkle

Upfront confession: Mrs Chrisparkle and I were unfamiliar with both the novel and film of Ian McEwan’s Atonement, but our theatre companions, Professor and Mrs Plum, are both avid fans of the book and assured us that the play is very faithful to the original. Christopher Hampton has adapted the book for the stage; he had also authored the 2007 screen adaptation, so I guess he didn’t have more than a few tweaks to create the finished article. I jest of course.

In case, like us, you don’t know; set in 1935, 13-years-old Briony Tallis who lives at the big family mansion has fallen head over heels in love with Robbie who works as a gardener there. Robbie, however, is smitten with Briony’s adult sister Cecilia, and Briony is jealous of their relationship. At a family gathering, Briony’s cousin Lola is raped but does not see the face of her attacker, so cannot identify him for certain. Briony tells the police that she saw that it was Robbie. Robbie protests his innocence; but whom do the police believe? In the second Act, the story continues into World War Two with Cecilia and Briony now both nurses. Briony has concluded that she was wrong to declare Robbie was Lola’s attacker – but what can she do to atone?

This production is most definitely a game of two halves. Act One comes across as fragmented and uneven, a scattergun of scenes that appear to go nowhere, backed up by an ingenious but messy two-level staging that relies heavily on projections. Half an hour in and I was completely clueless as to what the play was all about; a cross between Upstairs Downstairs and The Go-Between that pussyfooted around without ever making a point. Act Two is the production’s saving grace, acquiring a fluidity and much better storytelling finesse. The twist at the end (IYKYK) doesn’t have the emotional punch that it does, I understand, in the book; but, nevertheless, comes across as a creative intellectual puzzle that no one would ever guess. And I’m certainly not going to give the game away.

I can see why it’s obviously a very successful book; one of those rare works that not only tells its own tale but at the same time analyses its own creation, like The French Lieutenant’s Woman, or Coleridge’s Kubla Khan, or indeed Spandau Ballet’s True. Such works have a strange superpower which demands that you sit up and pay attention. I wonder, however, if the first Act would be more convincing if it didn’t align so closely with the book; the story doesn’t unfold as organically as it should.

In fact, the storytelling – at least in the first Act – takes a back seat. I overheard a couple during the interval where a man couldn’t work out what had just happened and needed his wife to clarify that Lola had been raped. I think if that vital fact isn’t made clear, then somehow the direction is going AWOL. There were a few directorial choices in the first Act that made me bridle; is it necessary, for example, when Cecilia jumps into the water to retrieve the missing parts of the jug, for her to be wearing such a see-through top? And indeed, Robbie giving us a flash of his bare bum in the bath added absolutely nothing to the story and just made me feel like the actors were being somehow manipulated. The breaking of the Meissen vase was, by the way, one of the least convincing stage effects I’ve ever seen – a proper shocker given the resources that Chichester can access. Additionally, it’s a shame that uneven LED panels creating the big screen effect at the back of the stage mean that projections of written words, or translations from French, both of which are important for plot development, look wonky at times. It’s not a huge problem overall, but it does give you the impression that the production was done on the cheap.

There are, fortunately, some first-rate performances to take our minds off some of the more ham-fisted elements of the production. Debra Gillett livens up every scene with her entertaining portrayals of the snooty Aunt Emily Tallis and the authoritarian Sister Drummond. Jonathan Oliver gives a nicely judged portrayal of the police inspector and the adult Pierrot Quincey, James Backway is delightfully obnoxious as Paul Marshall but a convincingly supportive corporal Tommy Nettle, and Isabella Dempster excellent as the privileged and pompous young Briony. At our performance, the young brothers Jackson and Pierrot were played by Jacob Isaacs and Felix Kennedy who gave very believable, assured performances.

The final scene, set in 1999, is dominated by the elderly Briony, now a successful author, played with calm conviction by Jessica Turner. In the lead roles, Jasper Talbot is excellent as Robbie, particularly in his wartime and post-war scenes, suffering both physical and mental battle scars; and Miriam Petche is also very strong as Cecilia, a determined, forthright and unforgiving character, forced to confront injustice in a manner for which she was not educated.

The second Act is engrossing, revealing, and satisfying; it’s a shame that the first Act is such a slow and unengaging introduction to the meat of the story. Nevertheless, there’s much to enjoy and admire, and there’s no underestimating the brilliance of McEwan’s plot construction. Atonement continues at the Festival Theatre until Saturday 20^th June.

Three-sy Does It!

Review – Public the Musical, Curve Studio Theatre, Leicester, 10th June 2026

Posted on June 11, 2026 by therealchrisparkle

We’ve all been inside a public toilet. This one’s not too bad; one of the three cubicles is out of action, there’s no soap in the dispenser, and with those stairs on entry you can take a running jump if you were hoping for disabled access. But it looks truly authentic. It even smells authentic. “Can you get piss-scented joss sticks?” queried Mrs Chrisparkle. Apparently you can.

Stroud and Notes have developed their hugely successful original 60-minute version of Public the Musical which received high acclaim at the 2023 Edinburgh Fringe (including an enthusiastic five stars from me) into an extended 90-minute version without interval. The set up remains the same. Four strangers, with busy schedules and very different outlooks on life, end up locked in a public toilet with no means of escape: Andrew, an aggressive finance executive and essentially unreconstructed neanderthal where it comes to modern thinking; Zo, an activist and progressive content creator who knows how to be PC but not how to empathise; Laura, non-binary, preparing for their wedding tomorrow without enthusiasm and fearing the worst; and Finlay, desperate to keep his low-paid job, worried about his grandmother’s health and neurotic about his own.

In the original version, they knew they had to wait for an hour to be released. In the new version, they can’t alert anyone to their plight and have no idea how long they will be there – and it takes till next morning to regain their freedom. In that time, they have to get to know one another, and learn to live with each other’s opposing views, in order to survive the intervening hours. It’s a simple and brilliant concept, something everyone can imagine happening to them and wonder how they would cope.

It’s been three years in the additional development, and I can’t help but think it’s been overthought and overworked. What once was punchy and direct now feels drawn out and stuffed with padding. The extra 30 minutes hasn’t been put to use to discover more about the characters, but instead too much time is spent on largely irrelevant (albeit funny) sequences involving accidental drug taking, or a song about reading the graffiti on the walls. Indeed, by limiting the lock-in to a real time sixty minutes in the original production, it focussed in on their plight; having it open-ended almost puts off having to make decisions or alliances. The ending, when it comes, doesn’t point towards any solid conclusion to their experience; in fact, if ever a show ended with a whimper rather than a bang, it’s this.

Whilst all the characters go on a journey to an extent, it’s only Laura who undergoes true character development, understanding that their future lies not with a cheating partner but with being independent and strong. Andrew’s redemption and progression to becoming a fully paid-up member of the wokerati feels artificial and way too easy. In the shorter version of the show, his confusion over misgendering was not only genuinely funny but also bang on the nail as to why pronouns are important; here it seems to have much less significance. Zo already accepts that she has a long way to go, which is why she has weekly therapy. Finlay doesn’t seem to have a journey set up for himself, other than general survival.

Amy Jane Cook’s set is outstanding and hugely convincing. The songs are all well written and instantly entertaining if not memorable, and the performances by the four actors are all excellent. Only Ivano Turco, as Finlay, seems to have the occasional battle with the musicians to get his lyrics fully heard (something wrong with the balance there), and his character is the least well delineated. The best musical performance is by Matt Corner as Andrew, who delivers the best song of the show, Missing Pieces, with a superb combination of power and emotion. He’s also very effective at conveying Andrew’s argumentative and arrogant character. Grace Towning is very convincing as the always right (although always left) Zo, never allowing anyone to contradict her progressive assumptions; and Cole Dennis is fantastic at expressing all Laura’s self-doubt, their constant need to please, never putting themselves first until they finally see the light. It’s a very nice touch in the writing that none of the other characters even remotely guess that the wedding Laura is attending in France is theirs.

Perhaps we had too much expectation, having enjoyed the Fringe version so much, but the current incarnation of Public the Musical doesn’t really do itself justice, despite the best efforts of its engaging and talented cast. Still, there is a lot to enjoy, and with some further rewriting and pruning, it may still have a future!

Three-sy Does It!

Review – Equus, Menier Chocolate Factory, London, 31st May 2026

Posted on June 2, 2026 by therealchrisparkle

One of the most outstanding plays of the 20^th century, Equus, Peter Shaffer’s intricate but vivid enactment of a true story, retains an immaculate reputation, bolstered by extraordinary productions in the past. It deals with the inexplicable blinding of several horses by a teenage boy, a story told to him by a friend who died shortly afterwards, with no first-hand knowledge of the crime or perpetrator at all; Shaffer filled the gaps with his imagination. I saw the original production, when it transferred to the Albery, as part of a school trip (!) and we sat on benches on the stage. At the time it was the most thrilling experience I’d had in a theatre and it opened my 16-year-old mind to appreciate some of the extraordinary things that theatre can achieve. I’ve seen it twice since, including the famous Daniel Radcliffe production, and it never fails to astonish. Seeing it again now in the intimate setting of the Menier Chocolate Factory was a no-brainer for me.

Long suffering psychiatrist Martin Dysart is told about the actions of 17-year-old Alan Strang by Hesther Salomon, the magistrate at his court case. With no apparent cause, and with no previous blemish on his character, Strang blinded six horses on a rampage in a stable. Hesther realises he needs help rather than just punishment, so reluctantly Dysart agrees to take him on. Initially obstructive, Strang slowly starts to open up as together they explore the reasons why he did what he did. As the play progresses, we see vignettes from his family life, his introduction to the stable and stable-mate Jill, and his instant infatuation with the horses. Shaffer saves the re-enactment of the blinding for the final scene, one of the most visually and emotionally shattering moments in 20^th century drama.

One of the reasons why it’s always a thrill to see a production at the Menier is that you never quite know how the stage and seating will be configured. For Equus, Paul Farnsworth has created a black wooden stage, featureless apart from four benches in the corners, a black wooden walkway around the stage and what appears to be a centre revolve that they don’t use (looks it a bit odd, to be honest). In keeping with the original production, the offstage actors sit in vacant seats scattered around the front row of the audience, which emphasises how we’re all part of the same shared experience. Entrances are crisply made from those seats, the actors circling the edge of the stage until they walk onto it; if you’re used to stretching your legs out in the front row, you can’t do it in this show, or you’d trip everyone up.

At the back of the stage sit the horses, in their stable. Actors from a dance background, they’re motionless for much of the first act, but when they come to life, they roll, they writhe, they stagger, all with elegant choreographic grace. They create the illusion of individual horses, unless they come together when they portray Nugget, the Equus God, in whom Strang is so besotted. They exude an unpredictable strength; they’re not beautiful to watch, but they are mesmeric, eerie and unsettling. There’s no doubt that this presentation underlines the homoerotic nature of the play; it was always there, but in this production it’s beyond question.

It’s a first-rate cast who throw themselves into the production with full commitment. Colin Mace and Emma Cunniffe are excellent as Alan Strang’s parents, Frank and Dora. Both find it hard to express their feelings towards their son. Frank is a traditional man’s man who doesn’t go in for “emotions”, works long hours and refuses to allow a TV in the household, and Dora’s love for God comes first. Both give great portrayals of essentially good people who are totally bewildered by what their son has done.

Bella Aubin is superb as Jill, Alan’s confident young stable colleague, seeking to push Alan gently towards a relationship despite his internal conflict and immaturity. As Hesther Salomon, Amanda Abbington creates a palpable character out of what is really a shoulder on which Dysart can cry (and vent his spleen), advocating powerfully on behalf of Alan to protect whatever future he has. There’s also great support from Paula James as the no-nonsense nurse, David Rubin as stable owner Harry Dalton and Ed Mitchell as Nugget and the horseman.

Toby Stephens’ Martin Dysart is at the end of his tether from the start. Dysart should be embarking on a tremendous journey of self-discovery during the course of the play, reflecting on his homelife and his marriage, coping with an ever-growing workload, exasperated at himself, his very essence, his clients and the world at large. We know that Toby Stephens is a superb actor, with terrific technical skill, an imposing stage presence and the ability to conjure up all levels of emotion. However, I didn’t sense that this Dysart went on much of a journey, or that there was any significant character development. I didn’t feel his dark night of the soul, there were no penny-drop moments as he works out who he is. This is a play where all the characters should emerge at the end profoundly changed from how they were at the beginning, but for Dysart, it all felt strangely on one level. I know I’m in the minority here.

Noah Valentine, however, as Alan Strang, gives a truly great performance, riveting from the very start, combining insolence with vulnerability, aggression with passivity. Physically, it’s inspired casting; Shaffer’s only description of Alan in the stage directions is that he is a “lean boy of seventeen”, and indeed, Mr Valentine cuts a slim, slight figure, a powerful contrast with the muscular nobility of the horses. His expressions throughout are superb – you don’t need to hear this Alan speak in order to know what he’s thinking. Strang is still just a boy, and Mr Valentine truly convinces as a wayward, uncertain teenager who defaults to impudence and disobedience under pressure; and who could crack at any time. It’s a terrific performance – not to mention one of great bravery – and he will certainly be a name to follow in the future.

Admirably, there has been no attempt to update the play; the programme notes announce that the action takes place in the early 1970s, so Alan Strang’s incessant singing of television adverts is the same as it was fifty years ago. Advertising jingles today just don’t have the same iconic power!

However, there’s one directorial decision with which I completely disagree. Towards the end of the first act, Dysart encourages Alan to re-enact taking Nugget from the stable and leading him into the field. Shaffer’s stage direction states: “he mimes undressing completely in front of the horse”. However, director Lindsay Posner has Alan literally removing all his clothes, so that his final scene before the interval is performed naked. Obviously, this makes a great sudden impact, but in so doing, it detracts from the more significant final scene, the true climax of the play, where Alan is running, jumping, hurling himself about the stage naked whilst viciously jabbing the pick into the horses’ eyes.

To reinforce that final impact, Paul Pyant’s lighting design has to go full manic strobe, and effective though it is, that final scene ought not to need any additional lighting tricks to create its shock. But here it’s necessary because we already have a visual memory of Alan naked with Nugget – the surprise has already been ruined an hour earlier. Call me a purist, but when Shaffer instructed that the first undressing should be mimed, I reckon he knew what he was doing.

Overall, a committed and powerful production of an outstanding play, but somehow it didn’t quite crackle with the electric energy that I would have expected. Nevertheless, there are some superb performances, and Noah Valentine is a star of the future. After the run at the Menier ends on 4^th July, the production transfers to the Theatre Royal Bath, who have co-produced it, for two weeks from 14^th July.

Four They’re Jolly Good Fellows!

Review – The Tempest, RSC at the Royal Shakespeare Theatre, Stratford-upon Avon, 28th May 2026

Posted on May 29, 2026 by therealchrisparkle

©Johan Persson

The RSC’s new production of The Tempest is significant in more ways than one. Prospero is played by one of our most experienced Shakespearean actors Sir Kenneth Branagh; and the production is directed by the prodigious and highly respected Sir Richard Eyre, making his RSC debut at 83 years old. It’s no surprise that if you check the box office there isn’t a seat to be had for the entire run.

©Johan Persson

Probably Shakespeare’s swansong play, and his second shortest (only The Comedy of Errors has fewer lines), Prospero, the rightful Duke of Milan and magician to boot, has escaped from his usurping brother with just his daughter Miranda and his precious books to a remote island where the only inhabitant is the “savage and deformed” slave, Caliban. He also has the services of the spirit Ariel to call upon when he wants to get things done. Scholars have argued over the centuries about the extent to which Prospero is Shakespeare, winding up his creative career and putting the finishing touches to his magic before a brave new world comes in and takes over. Sounds fair to me, and nothing in this production argues against that.

©Johan Persson

But such intellectual debate is of little concern in Eyre’s new production, which is all about the magic. The first couple of minutes make the production’s approach to the play crystal clear. Prospero, having borrowed the sorcerer’s cloak from Disney’s Fantasia, masterminds the action from his music stand as he conducts the magic that causes the famous opening shipwreck scene. It’s an outstanding start, combining the best of Bob Crowley’s set, Fotini Dimou’s costume design, Hugh Vanstone’s lighting and Nicola T Chang’s sound design.

©Johan Persson

One of this production’s strengths is its excellent storytelling – and that opening scene is a prime example. We can see that Prospero’s magic has caused the storm simply by using our eyes, so that when the text in the following scene actually explains that is the case, it’s confirming something we already know. This frees up that scene between Prospero and Miranda to reveal a comedy element that I’m not sure I was aware ever existed there before.

©Johan Persson

The sense of magic, as well as of a remote, maybe tropical island, is enhanced by Akintayo Akinbode’s and Stephen Warbeck’s evocative musical compositions, played with plaintive power by four musicians. It’s especially effective in its accompaniment to the appearances of Amara Okereke’s Ariel, an almost ever-present spirit who flies in, Peter Pan-like, and performs all her scenes mid-air. Ms Okereke has a glorious voice which makes Ariel’s songs both more meaningful and more beautiful. Ariel is bound to serve Prospero until he fulfils his promise to set her free; her moment of freedom comes when he finally releases her harness, enabling her to set foot on land.

©Johan Persson

Also bound to Prospero, but firmly earthed to ground, Ashley Zhangazha’s Caliban cuts far from the traditional presentation of the role, as a dignified, eloquent, finely voiced chap. The joke that Miranda falls for the first decent-looking young man she ever sees (Ferdinand) doesn’t really work if she’s been around this particular Caliban for any length of time. Maybe it’s just a status thing. When Caliban decides to plot with Stephano and Trinculo to rebel against Prospero, he doesn’t come across as an equal partner in their mischief; more their superior, which only enhances Stephano and Trinculo’s foolishness.

©Johan Persson

Ruby Stokes and Fred Woodley Evans are a superb pairing as Miranda and Ferdinand, who brighten up the stage whenever either of them comes on. Ms Stokes delightfully portrays Miranda’s innocence, albeit with the intent of not remaining innocent for much longer if she can help it. Her scenes with Kenneth Branagh are also a joy, revealing her unquenchable thirst for knowledge. As Ferdinand, Mr Evans nails that sense of slightly bumbling nobility, underpinning his inexperience, but willing to do right by all. He also brings an enjoyable naïve comedy to the role.

©Johan Persson

Elsewhere in the cast, Ashley Zhangazha impresses as this surprisingly urbane Caliban, Henry Pettigrew gives us an amusingly snide and sarcastic Sebastian, and Paul Jesson is every inch the honest and upright Gonzalo, a beacon of goodness amongst a bunch of reprobates. Keir Charles and Guy Henry have the difficult task of making those relatively tedious scenes with Stephano and Trinculo watchable, but Mr Henry in particular does a good job of making his character of Stephano believable, with, what felt like to me, subtle elements of Kenneth Williams and Larry Grayson in his portrayal.

©Johan Persson

But – let’s face it – the big attraction of this production in the return of Sir Kenneth Branagh to the RSC after three decades. Confession: I’ve only seen him on stage once before, when he was a 21-year-old unknown in Another Country at London’s Queen’s (now Sondheim) Theatre, and I was a 21-year-old postgraduate student researching theatre censorship. I knew at the time I was witnessing a very special performer, and if The Real Chrisparkle had existed at the time, I would have described him as One To Watch.

©Johan Persson

What makes him so good in general, and certainly this describes his Prospero in particular, is his ability to take someone else’s words and make them his own. He works his way through Shakespeare’s text making every line sound so natural, so understandable, so fluid. Constantly changing the pace of his narrative, he will rattle through one sentence and then slowly and deliberately pick out individual words in the next sentence to linger over and savour. When Prospero ultimately forgives all the villains who have done him ill in the past, it’s Branagh’s calmness that teaches you this is the way to heal your own heart of all its injuries and sadnesses. Maybe this really was Shakespeare making his final farewell.

©Johan Persson

At its best, this is a superb production with a masterful lead performance. Could it be better? Yes. It’s light on emotion, and surprisingly unadventurous in some technical elements. But who cares? It’s Branagh that you remember.

Four They’re Jolly Good Fellows!

Review – Driftwood, Royal Shakespeare Company at The Other Place, Stratford-upon-Avon, 18th May 2026

Posted on May 19, 2026 by therealchrisparkle

©Marc Brenner

Martina Laird’s debut play is set in Trinidad, in 1956. British colonial rule was nearing its end as Eric Williams, founder of the People’s National Movement, started forging the path for Trinidad and Tobago to gain independence. Driftwood is set in a gentlemen’s club in the capital, Port of Spain, where Miss Pearl rules the roost together with her daughter Ruby. It’s their home, although the property actually belongs to Mansion, an aging British civil servant, who came to Trinidad in 1920 to arrange a Royal visit by Prince Edward; liked it and stayed on.

Shane David-Joseph, Ellen Thomas and Cat White

©Marc Brenner

Police officer Seldom is an irregular visitor to the club, a jokey blokey with a winning way who collects his money for turning a blind eye – or at least as much of it as Ruby thinks he deserves. This is a society where law is writ small and individuals set their own standards as to what they can get away with. No wonder that when Diamond, Pearl’s long-lost son, turns up unexpectedly, his aim is to carve himself a position within the household where he can take what he feels is his fair share of any freebies going. But is American naval officer Tom, whom he introduces to the club with the prospect of hospitality, drink, and taking Ruby to bed, the right person from whom to take a percentage of illicit proceeds?

©Marc Brenner

1956 was, as it was all over the world, a time of change, and Trinidad was a melting pot of influences. Laird delicately paints in character traits and background details, giving an insight into what life must have been like in Trinidad at that time. Many plot intrigues are touched upon, including a possible powerplay for ownership of the club once Mansion is no more, as well as a thoroughly incestuous moment between Diamond and Ruby. Such intrigues are both a strength and a weakness: a strength inasmuch as they fill out the play with hints of potentially fascinating unexplored backstory, and a weakness because, essentially, they are left dangling until they fizzle out.

©Marc Brenner

Much of the first act is slow exposition, and Driftwood takes a long time to get going properly. Justin Audibert’s direction adopts a slow pace; useful in one respect, as it gives the audience time to grow accustomed to the Trinidadian dialect spoken by the locals. However, it also means that the opening act feels very heavy and sluggish, with only occasional highlights such as the initial conversation between Diamond and Pearl, or when we first meet Tom. We go into the interval feeling that the concentration we have had to give the play hasn’t always been worth it, and it was notable how the audience applause at the interval was slight and muted. However, it comes much more to life after the interval, with an engaging second act that benefits from a stronger narrative.

©Marc Brenner

Essentially, the story boils down to Diamond’s deal with Tom and how, when Diamond doesn’t abide by the agreement, it affects the lives of everyone – primarily himself – when he ends up flying too close to the sun like Icarus. Despite his bravura and confidence, Diamond is revealed to be a small fish who has only just learned to swim in a very big sea.

©Marc Brenner

Sadeysa Greenaway-Bailey has designed a very compact and intimate set, resulting in largely wasted areas Stage Right and Left, and is also positioned extremely highly, meaning anyone in the first few rows (and The Other Place is not a big theatre) has to look up a lot. However, she has created some fantastic costumes for the show – all Ruby’s dresses are perfect for every occasion and make a great contrast with Pearl’s dour outfits. Christella Litras’ music, ably performed unseen by Leroy Johnson and Todd Brand, is evocative and helps set the scene and mood.

©Marc Brenner

The performances are all very good and certainly help lift the play. Cat White is immensely watchable as Ruby, using her very expressive face to help us understand all the character’s emotions. Ellen Thomas’ Pearl is a superb portrayal of someone resigned to a life of pain and underachievement, a no-nonsense parent weary of her responsibilities. Martins Imhangbe creates an imposing figure on stage as Diamond, a chancer always on the lookout for an opportunity, surprisingly fragile in a world that’s more robust than he imagined.

©Marc Brenner

Roger Ringrose gives a very entertaining performance as Mansion, flaunting his white privilege and moneyed education, the kind of man who has never had any doubts about his life because why would he? Shane David-Joseph uses his natural comic ability to great effect as the shifty and quirky officer Seldom, and Ziggy Heath gives a lively performance as Tom, arrogantly manspreading, calling the shots, and giving no ground.

©Marc Brenner

On the upside, this is a well-acted production of a play set in a time and place that rarely gets any attention from British dramatists; consequently, much of the material and background feels fresh and new. On the downside, the play could do with some editing and tidying up, perhaps injecting a little more humour and pace. But, as a first play, Martina Laird shows great promise and may well become an emerging voice of the future. After it finishes its run at Stratford, Driftwood transfers to London’s Kiln Theatre from 4th June to 4th July 2026.

Three-sy Does It!

Review – Eclipse, Minerva Theatre Chichester, 9th May 2026 – Second Preview

Posted on May 15, 2026 by therealchrisparkle

Reviewing a preview is always a tricky business; one has to give a production the benefit of the doubt that it will improve over the coming days. Perhaps they will have tried something very different on a preview performance that they decide doesn’t work – that’s all part of the reasons for having previews in the first place. I’m stating this upfront, because, given this morning’s fine reviews, I can only think that Eclipse has developed substantially over the last few days.

Writer and director John Morton is best known for being the writer (and director) of those successful TV series, Twenty Twelve, W1A, and now Twenty Twenty-Six. According to the programme notes, the events of Eclipse are based on his own personal experience, but over twenty (that number again) years have elapsed since he wrote the first draft, and he finally feels it’s time to get his ideas out there.

Death. There’s no escaping it. And, if you’re lucky, you’ll have a kind and loving family by your side to help you through your final days. Despite being – along with birth – the only thing that everyone will experience in their lives, there’s still a taboo to many aspects of dealing with dying. A new play that gives us fresh insight into this vital (or rather, mortal) subject must be welcome.

However – and I must emphasise again that we saw the second preview of this production, so much can change between then and Press Night – Eclipse offers hardly any new insights. Just as when, after an eclipse passes, life reverts to normal, when someone dies, life goes on for everyone else. That seems to be the message of this play, but I hazard a guess that’s something everyone discovers as soon as someone they know dies, so, frankly, no surprise there.

To be fair, the play does show the difference between how family members cope with death and how healthcare professionals deal with it. Dr Parker, together with carers Karen and Linda, are the soul of kindness and positivity, and you’d relish having them helping you through your loved one’s last days. They’re a marked contrast to the family members who suppress their petty jealousies, unresolved issues and deep-rooted bitterness. Morton deliberately makes the nature of the relationships somewhat obscure. It was a good way into the play before I realised that Jonathan and Nell weren’t brother and sister, but ex-partners; although then I couldn’t quite work out why Nell actually was there.

It’s an elegant production, charmingly observing the classical unities of tragedy, with death happening off-stage; the ancient Greeks would have loved it. Simon Higlett has created a gorgeously intricate and realistic set; the mechanics of the Minerva mean that as you enter the auditorium you’re walking on the remarkably well realised spongy garden path that leads up to the house, so you feel closely associated with the action even before it starts.

The only detraction from the realism of the set is the lack of a front door; I can understand how one could get in the way of the performance, but it’s a true oddity in the middle of the vivid realism that otherwise confronts us – for example, you even get to smell the burnt toast. Emma Chapman’s vitally important lighting design takes us through the course of a long day; to my mind Ed Clarke’s sound design includes a little too much birdsong from the garden, perhaps over-emphasising how life goes on outside.

One can easily see that Eclipse is written by the same person as W1A; Morton is very comfortable with those half-completed, half-understood, half-meaningful sentences that have peppered conversations since time immemorial. However, that alone doesn’t give the play any va va voom. If the point of Eclipse is to show that life goes on before, during and after death, the play itself needs to have a lot more life injected into it. I know that comparisons are odious, but think of how the likes of Tom Stoppard, Joe Orton, or Alan Ayckbourn can reveal the extraordinary gallows humour that surrounds death; I’m afraid Mr Morton’s humour just nibbles at the edges of the subject.

The performances are all excellent; among the best are Sarah Parish giving us a delightfully worn-down and short-tempered Sarah, Paul Thornley as the permanently upbeat and hapless Graham, and Selina Cadell, who delivers a masterclass of underplayed comedy as carer Karen. It’s a shame that these fantastic actors don’t have something more substantial to get their teeth into. It’s all done and dusted within one hour fifty minutes including an interval; I’m always in admiration of brevity of wit in the theatre, but I can’t help but think there’s an awful lot more here that could be winkled out of the situation for both our entertainment and our enlightenment.

Three-sy Does It!

Review – Magic, Chichester Festival Theatre, 9th May 2026

Posted on May 10, 2026 by therealchrisparkle

David Haig’s new play concerns the perhaps unlikely but definitely true story of the friendship and association between the brains behind Sherlock Holmes, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, and showman and trickster extraordinaire, Harry Houdini. Conan Doyle wasn’t a brilliant escapologist, and Houdini couldn’t write a detective story for toffee, but they did have a shared interest in the world of Spiritualism.

Having lost his son Kingsley shortly after the end of the First World War, Conan Doyle spent the subsequent years desperately believing that he could stay in contact with him through the services of a medium – the renowned Mina Crandon. Houdini, who knew everything about creating illusion, desperately wanted to believe in Spiritualism and would have loved for seances to be true; but he was always able to disprove them. It’s the balance between Conan Doyle, the ultimate believer, and Houdini, the ultimate deceiver, that’s at the heart of the play.

There’s undoubtedly a good story to be told here, but sadly Magic isn’t it. It has a strangely empty feel, as though it knows it doesn’t have much to tell us, and to compensate, what it does tell us is delivered at a snail’s pace. The production allows itself to be sidetracked by enormous amounts of padding, varying from unnecessary musical interludes, Houdini doing a few tricks, and the slowest scene changes this side of the A27. There’s only one scene which contains any drama or tension – which is where Houdini exposes Mina Crandon (an excellently vitriolic Jade Williams) as a fraud, leaving Conan Doyle devastated as he realises he has been tricked. Whilst the characterisations are thoroughly believable, and the acting is first rate, the play and staging are so heavy going and ponderous that they drag the story down with it. And whilst Haig has a nice understanding of the warp and weft of conversation, the text feels like it would be better read than acted.

The music-hall setting unbalances the show by presenting it wholly from the perspective of Houdini’s world, with nothing at all from the Conan Doyle world; and whilst the members of the musical ensemble perform well, they simply distract from the main thrust of the play. In fact, this would be far better as a four or five-hander (the Conan Doyles, the Houdinis and Mina) in a more intimate setting and with greater intensity of dialogue.

David Haig plays Conan Doyle with Edwardian dignity and propriety, and a gentle sense of humour. He embodies respectability in contrast with Hadley Fraser’s Houdini, who accentuates the brash American-ness and essential shallowness of his profession. This difference continues with the enjoyably contrasting Claire Price as the very correct but repressed Jean Conan Doyle and Jenna Augen as the friendly and content Bess Houdini. There’s a brief scene where Bess reveals how Jean turned away from musical performance herself in order to be the literary wife, and we get a glimpse of the sacrifices Jean has made for the greater good – there’s an intriguing dynamic here which is annoyingly just left dangling.

Whilst the play does attempt to explore the lengths to which one can go to come to terms with grief and loss, it never truly fulfils its potential, and the distracting and cumbersome production doesn’t help.

Three-sy Does It!

Review – The Resistible Rise of Arturo Ui, Royal Shakespeare Company at the Swan Theatre, Stratford-upon-Avon, 21st April 2026

Posted on April 22, 2026 by therealchrisparkle

©Marc Brenner

Bertolt Brecht’s scathing satire on the rise of Hitler, The Resistible Rise of Arturo Ui was originally written in 1941, with an expected first production to take place in the United States. However, it was considered too politically sensitive for a producer to risk, and the play didn’t receive its premiere until 1958, two years after Brecht’s death, when it was produced in Stuttgart. The play remained relatively unknown in the UK until Leonard Rossiter played the role in 1967.

©Marc Brenner

Brecht’s Ui is seen as a small-time Chicago gangster, engineering a takeover of the city’s greengrocery trade by conning and terrorising the members of the Cauliflower Trust. Ui’s ambitions know no bounds, and before long he’s manipulating all of Chicago, and eventually has his target on the neighbouring city of Cicero – and probably beyond. In Stephen Sharkey’s new translation, not only is the resemblance of Ui to Hitler unmistakable, both in Mark Gatiss’ extraordinary physical characterisation and in his modus operandi, but an account of Hitler’s rise to power is told, factually and emotionlessly, by cast members as each scene concludes. Each of Brecht’s original fifteen scenes represents a true event in the rise of Nazi Germany between 1929 and 1938; and, much as Orwell did with Animal Farm, Brecht’s characters can easily be identified with their German Nazi originals. Ui is Hitler, Giri is Goering, Givola is Goebbels, Dogsborough Hindenburg, and so on.

©Marc Brenner

As there are now relatively few people who can remember the Second World War, let alone Germany in the 1930s, it’s worthwhile doing a history lesson to appreciate just how clever a satire Brecht’s play is. And in these perilous times, where far right populism is gaining a foothold all over the world – including here in the UK – Brecht’s salutary tale, or, in his words, parable play, feels more appropriate than ever. The last words of the text warn the audience: the bitch that bore him is in heat again. Nothing if not perspicacious, Brecht.

©Marc Brenner

Stephen Sharkey’s smart new translation keeps all the original characterisations and storylines, wisely avoiding a desire to update them, and maintains Brecht’s delicious balance between poetry and prose. The production also achieves the near-impossible task of preserving all Brecht’s trademark distancing effects, whilst still making the play flow naturally; aided in this by Georgia Lowe’s excellent and effective set. Having an LED banner on stage, proudly describing the show as part of the RSC’s current season from the start, instantly sets the tone of artificial theatricality and is the perfect backdrop for Mawaan Rizwan’s delightfully subversive opening introduction.

©Marc Brenner

Robbie Butler’s lighting design also enhances the theatricality, perhaps at its most audacious during the extended crowd massacre scene which then transforms magically into a floral display at Givola’s flower shop. Georgia Lowe’s costumes also help to define the characters, from the sharp-suited members of the Cauliflower Trust, Dockdaisy’s outrageous flamenco dress, Giri’s clown outfit, and of course Ui, who transforms slowly from a down-at-heel wretch in worn out clothes, to a functioning but tasteless suit and eventually to full Nazi uniform and regalia. Richie Hart’s four-piece band deliver Placebo’s music with style and expression, emphasising both the unease and the horror of what unfolds on stage.

©Marc Brenner

The cast are tremendous throughout. With only three of the actors taking on just one role, there is much doubling-up which emphasises the wide scope of the play whilst still keeping the storytelling crisp and clear. Kadiff Kirwan proves his incredible versatility, having been a suave and nifty Sky Masterson in Sheffield’s Guys and Dolls a few years ago, with a powerful and aggressive performance as Ui’s friend (does he really have friends?) Roma. L J Parkinson gives a great performance as the devious Givola, providing a subtly ruthless and unsettling presence on stage.

©Marc Brenner

The wonderful Janie Dee particularly excels in her portrayal of Betty Dullfeet, being the perfect “first lady” of Cicero who thinks she can hold her own against Ui but is duped and ends up with his emblem on her armband. You want to shout out Where’s Your Self-Respect! at her as she accepts her fate, and by implication the annexation of Austria. Mawaan Rizwan is hugely entertaining throughout as both the Barker and the slippery Giri, eerily collecting the hats of all the people he’s murdered, making the audience laugh at those things that we really shouldn’t find funny.

©Marc Brenner

The always reliable Christopher Godwin impresses as Dogsborough, caught up in his own corruption and regretting his actions when it’s too late – and provides a hilarious cameo as the pompous actor, teaching Ui how to sit, walk and present himself. Rebekah Hinds is also hilarious as the extravagant, back-chatting Dockdaisy, Amanda Wilkin gives a very convincing performance as Clark, Joe Alessi is the assertive Butcher and suspicious Dullfeet, and Mahesh Parmar gives us a delightfully childish Dogsborough’s son. But the entire cast and ensemble all turn in performances of great commitment and flair.

©Marc Brenner

It is, however, Mark Gatiss who dominates proceedings with his remarkable performance as Arturo Ui; a sinister, slimy, heartless, calculating portrayal of pure evil that rises from the mire and rules by fear and a warped charisma. Never played for comic effect, as it easily could be, perhaps his most gut-wrenching moment is when seducing Betty into believing him he licks her face – you could feel the audience shudder as one. It’s never an impersonation of Hitler, but Gatiss somehow merges himself with Hitler and Ui into one horribly believable and convincing villain. It’s a performance no one will forget in a hurry.

©Marc Brenner

85 years since it was written, Brecht’s extraordinary play continues to demonstrate the ease with which a society can fall under the spell of the evillest of minds. Ui walks among us. We can see him emerging; indeed, we may even already know his identity. It isn’t too late to resist, although one day it may be, which is the message of the production. Indeed, the production begs us, empowers us and orders us to resist – and it’s vital that we do. A superlative production, and one that is a privilege to have witnessed, it continues at Stratford’s Swan Theatre until 30^th May.

Five Alive, Let Theatre Thrive!

Review – Frankie Goes to Bollywood, Royal and Derngate, Northampton, 16th April 2026

Posted on April 17, 2026 by therealchrisparkle

©Richard Lakos

Confession time: I’ve never seen a Bollywood movie and know very little about the genre apart from a few basic facts that everyone knows. Frankie Goes to Bollywood provides an insight into this cultural phenomenon, and as such, is undoubtedly a fascinating experience. I do know that Bollywood movies are sold as a vision of dreams, a melting pot of glamour, and that nearly all are variations on the same theme – a love story of improbable, nay fantastic, proportions. Bollywood takes elaborate musical and visual themes to entrance its audience for several hours; and above all it creates legends, and its stars are like royalty.

©Richard Lakos

Who wouldn’t want to be part of it? Frankie, and her best friend (and cousin/sister) Goldy, dream of making the big time somehow, rather than just selling popcorn at the local cinema in Huddersfield. Goldy wants to be in a Bollywood movie, but it’s Frankie who is – almost by accident – propelled into the limelight after a chance encounter with a movie director, a glitteringly successful audition, and an offer to be a big star in Mumbai. In many respects, a typical rags to riches storyline, that’s probably featured in many a Bollywood movie.

©Richard Lakos

But Frankie is a realist, and although she dreams big, she’s just an ordinary young woman, with no pretence, no arrogance, and a heart of gold. Can she keep it real under the pressures of Bollywood life, or will she succumb to the flashy lifestyle and hardnosed ruthlessness of the film industry? You can probably guess the answer to that. But – spoiler alert – like all good Indian fairytales, everything comes good in the end.

©Richard Lakos

What Frankie Goes to Bollywood does very successfully is reveal the sham behind the façade of the Bollywood industry. The sexy male star, with whom the audience either wants to be in love or simply to be, is in real life an aging Baldilocks with a Mummy complex. Bollywood is a conveyor belt that pushes out endless dreams but is super ruthless with every element – including its stars – in the process. Whoever has the finance is the king and calls the shots; no other input is of any consequence. It’s a grim place where you can arrange for your rival actor to be on the receiving end of a fatal car accident. You lose your identity as you sell your soul, and it’s all in the name of light entertainment.

©Richard Lakos

The show also highlights the essential misogyny of the whole Bollywood industry. The women, on and off screen, are there to look good and to make the men look even better. What they think doesn’t matter, and any additional contributions they make are ignored. As a natural consequence, Frankie and the other women are frustrated and feel abused by the whole circus. The show culminates not so much with a natural conclusion to its storyline but more of a mission statement for the future.

©Richard Lakos

Clearly, there’s no depth or meaning to your average Bollywood movie, and it’s this essential shallowness that is the problem with Frankie Goes to Bollywood. The system produces a never-ending sequence of shallow stories with shallow characters, and FGTB comes across as equally shallow. There’s a fine line between exposing its subject matter and resembling its subject matter, and the show doesn’t always get that balance right. They’re clearly a hugely talented cast but somehow it radiates an amateur vibe; revealing all Bollywood’s unsubtleties, not in a tongue-in-cheek or knowing way, but itself in an unsubtle way. The staging is frequently clumsy; for example, how many times do they have to (unnecessarily) move those spotlights around?! Often leaving uncomfortable gaps between scenes, it needs to be smarter and slicker. Occasional looks of uncertainty on the faces of some of the dancers suggest they’re a little unsure about where to stand or move, but that could also be because the stage of the Royal theatre is way too small to accommodate everything that this show is trying to achieve. I’m sure it would look more accomplished on a larger stage.

©Richard Lakos

That said, there is much to be appreciated in the vision and creativity of this production. Josh Sood’s musicians give us a gloriously authentic Indian music experience, Andy Kumar’s choreography – with Anna Maria Barber as assistant choreographer and dance captain – is bang on the nose and his costumes are as sumptuous as you would wish, and Philip Gladwell’s lighting is often set to brash mode, although there were a few moments on Press Night when gremlins got in the works.

©Richard Lakos

The acting is of a very high standard. Sarah Pearson gives a great central performance as Frankie; she’s a tremendous singer with a winning stage persona. I wasn’t totally convinced of how Frankie loses her kindness and charity as her fame grows, but I think that’s more a failure of the script than the performance. I particularly enjoyed Katie Stasi’s Goldy, a warm-hearted and spirited young woman, not afraid to fail and always remaining faithful to her friend – and also with a great singing voice. Luke Suri, as flamboyant choreographer Shona, steals all his scenes with his camp charisma and wittily written bitchiness. Ankur Sabharwal amusingly portrays the spoilt vanity of the star Raju, and Meher Pavri captures the resentment of star-and-girlfriend-on-the-decline Malika, and the pure love and support given by Frankie’s mother.

©Richard Lakos

Akshay Datta’s surprisingly gentle characterisation of the principled film director Prem makes a slightly curious comparison with the rest of the Bollywood rat race, giving all his dreams up to become a guru. There’s excellent support from Neelam Rajni as Frankie’s assistant Mandy, and a very hard-working ensemble including an entertaining portrayal of Timmy Anand by Kiran Kaanan, all himbo, glittery chest and not much up top.

One of those shows where it doesn’t quite add up to the sum of all its parts, which must be due to the writing and direction. However, there’s no doubt that it’s a lively, colourful and musical spectacle that tackles an uncomfortable problem at the heart of Indian culture. After Northampton, the tour continues to Leeds, Peterborough, Derby, Windsor, Hornchurch, Oxford, Birmingham and finishing at the Bristol Old Vic at the end of June.

Three-sy Does It!