Category Archives: Theatre

Review – Can’t Quite Hit It, Rumble Theatre Company, Fringe Festival, University of Northampton 3rd Year (BA) Acting and Creative Practice Students, The Platform, Northampton, 30th April 2019

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Unnecessary insights into the life of a reviewer that you don’t need to read #352a: for my tenth birthday (all those decades ago) my parents bought me a drum set – second hand, naturally. I’d always wanted one. The drums were decorated with a glitzy veneer and were a cream colour except for my favourite side drum which was bright red. I had a foot cymbal and a big top cymbal. I had a snare drum and a big bass drum. I had wooden sticks and soft brushes. And I absolutely loved it. I played my own interpretation of the drum accompaniments to many of my favourite tunes – in fact my performance of Clodagh Rodgers’ Jack in the Box (don’t judge me) was second to none. And, on a more serious note, it provided a safe (if noisy) way to express all those teenage angsts and frustrations especially when my dad died. I bashed out my unhappiness on those drums for hours on end.

I tell you this because I’m sure Leah, whose story is told in Rumble Theatre’s Can’t Quite Hit It, would approve. Mind you, her parents paid for drum lessons, which was more than mine did. That’s probably why she’s so good. And no wonder she wanted to become a serious, professional drummer when she grew up. Of course, everyone suffers obstructions to their ambitions, and Leah is no different. That’s why she ended up working at KFC. When Leah’s frustrated, she turns to Tears for Fears’ Shout – and why wouldn’t you? And then there’s Rob. The ghastly Rob. Rob, with the gormless face, who beats her at the drum-off audition. But Leah always comes up trumps in the end.

Rosemarie Sheach’s performance as Leah is a complete joy from start to finish. Honest, eloquent, with a terrific sense of humour, she completely owns the character and the stage and you can’t take your eyes off her. Can’t Quite Hit It shows us, warts and all, how, when someone is wrapped up in their music it can become their armour against adversity, their solace in times of trouble, and their prime means of expression. Through reminiscences of old conversations, we get a full understanding of Leah’s homelife, what her parents are like, her desires and frustrations, as well as some superbly entertaining and skilful drumming!

She has a triumphant happy-to-be-drumming smile (and a great contrast to Rob’s can’t-quite-keep-up grimace) which you know would get Leah through all the troubles life can chuck at her. A lesson in never giving up, this is a heart-warming, life-enhancing performance, which culminates in a wonderfully assertive and powerful performance of Queen’s Don’t Stop Me Now. Certainly one of the highlights of the festival. I even got Leah’s autograph!

Review – Adventurers Wanted, Do or Dice Theatre, Fringe Festival, University of Northampton 3rd Year (BA) Acting and Creative Practice Students, The Platform, Northampton, 30th April 2019

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According to WordPress Insights, this will be my 1,348th blog post, and (according to my own memory) the one that I’ve stared at a blank screen for the longest time before working out how to go about writing it! You shouldn’t read anything bad into that, gentle reader. However, if you’ve got tickets to see this performance and don’t want to know anything about what happens, please stop reading now. If, however, you’re spoiler-resistant, please, roll a die and continue…

I guess the clue was in the title – Do or Dice Theatre – that this was to be no ordinary show. Indeed, no ordinary Fringe show, not that such a thing exists. All I knew in advance was that there was a maximum of six audience members for each performance and that it was to be immersive. Good – I like immersive. We are met at the entrance to the venue by a mysterious cloaked dungeon master and we each choose an identity whose attributes we will take on for our quest. I was a Druid elf; it was a character part. We were each to give our characters a name. I chose Chris, because I’m essentially obedient. I realised afterwards that you didn’t have to choose your own name. It wasn’t an exam.

Our quest was to steal a green crystal from under the noses of some cavern guards. I had no idea I was going to be asked to do something immoral, but then, I was an elf, so who cares? With expert guidance from our excellent master, Liam Bottazzi, we progressed through three layers of peril. We each had a number of special powers, which we could use if we wished. I turned sticks to snakes, threw magic missiles, befriended an animal, and called on my ancient powers gifted by Ulthane the Goddess of Nature to… well… have two throws of the dice.

By dint of teamwork and a spirit of derring-do, the six of us thwarted those pesky guards and stole the ultimate prize. All from the comfort of a pub settee. This was my first game of dungeons and dragons since 1979 so I was a little rusty, and, although this was nothing like what I expected, I really enjoyed it! It’s one of those experiences where the more you put in, the more you get out, and Mr Bottazzi ran the game with good humour, funny voices, entertaining characterisations and, above all, putting his audience/players at ease and encouraging our interaction. Forty-five minutes of team-playing (literally), fun fantasy and dressing-up. Plus you get to steal a crystal without any bother from the police.

Review – Eve, Veto Ensemble, Fringe Festival, University of Northampton 3rd Year (BA) Acting and Creative Practice Students, The Platform, Northampton, 30th April 2019

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Veto Ensemble’s Fringe Festival play borrows from the old Biblical story of Lilith. Jewish folklore places her as Adam’s first wife, and, according to Wikipedia, she’s a sexually wanton demon of the night. Gosh. This play, Eve, is perhaps not quite so Old Testament as that, as it tells the story, in flashbacks, of the friendship between Evie and Lily, thrown together at school. Evie was the new girl, a well-behaved swot; and Lily was what my mother would have called a “good-time girl”, the drug-taking, house-breaking type. When Evie agrees to do Lily’s homework for her if Lily agrees to take her to a party, neither of them could have seen the consequences of their actions. But, after the consumption of a ton of alcohol, Eve meets Adam at the party, and, having blacked out from the drink, her only memory on waking up is asking him to stop. But he doesn’t. It’s rape. But will Evie be believed? And, as disaster follows disaster, where will a line of coke take her?

This robust, sometimes funny, occasionally horrific play incorporates many technical skills that Amber Winger and Rosalie Evans perform with great gusto and precision. There’s a sequence set in the classroom where both of them act out a number of roles, both speaking live and lip-synching alongside pre-recorded material, which they did with terrific lightness of touch, convincingly recreating the characters of the crude boys in class as well as the teacher. There are also some scenes with very engaging contemporary movement performed in unison, combined with some stream of consciousness talk – I’m thinking about the excellent scene that followed the cocaine binge, which cleverly blurred feelings of control and reality into chaos.

The play emphasises the age-old expectations about women’s role in society – in other words, men’s privileges that continue to this day despite efforts towards equality and because of the authority that men continue to assume. From the cat-calling in school, to Adam’s inability to understand (or care about) sexual consent and the subsequent disbelieving police interviewer, you can see how this behaviour is ingrained and shows few signs of improvement. And sadly, as we discover twenty years on, even with greater general awareness of the issue, the recurrence of rape, where the authorities don’t believe the woman, still continues.

Ms Winger and Ms Evans perform together perfectly, with great unity, and obviously have complete trust in each other which is always a delight to witness on stage. They both bring great character strengths to their roles, Ms Winger expressing perfectly the fragility and lack of confidence that young Evie feels, and the utter helplessness of not being believed. Ms Evans, on the other hand, has a steely look that suggests she could take on all-comers, daring others to disapprove of her lifestyle, although even she is eventually shocked at what happens.

The play ends with a thought-provoking and witty poem, delivered alternately line by line by both performers, sharply and snappily, and your final thoughts are of frustration at the inequality between the sexes, sadness for Evie’s prolonged predicament, and an appreciation of two very fine performances. Very thought-provoking and smart throughout!

Review – Welcome to my World, The Realistic Theatre Company, Fringe Festival, University of Northampton 3rd Year (BA) Acting and Creative Practice Students, The Platform, Northampton, 29th April 2019

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I thought I had never come across the specific condition of Dissociative Identity Disorder before – and that’s because it’s what used to be called Multiple Personality Disorder. Sometimes it’s hard to keep up with modern developments! It’s one of many mental health conditions that, if you’re not personally affected by it, you can only thank your lucky stars. I can’t imagine what it would be like to have all those voices tumbling around inside my head, speaking the words of other people, who are not me, but using my brain and my mouth to communicate with the world, testing me with their alternative identities, challenging me with their opposing views.

Amy Da Costa’s one-woman play introduces us to Zsofia, hiding in a corner until the voices in her head agree that it’s safe to come out. She likes to Netflix and Chill with Jacob, and it seems that the two of them have a good thing going until one day Jacob confesses that he has depression; and, whichever voice it was in Zsofia’s head that heard that, didn’t like it. So she refuses his calls and doesn’t see him anymore. Other voices in her head include a well-meaning child and an unsophisticated cockney; there may be more. How can she keep all these different characters, with their various desires and demands, under any kind of control?

Ms Da Costa does a great job in giving all these individuals their own voices and characterisation. When all Zsofia’s identities rub along ok it’s almost comedic at times, as we hear the mundane conversations between two pals that live inside one head. When the voices clash, however, Zsofia’s crisis is very moving and distressing, and, sadly, there is a kind of inevitability that leads to the play’s final scene.

An excellent performance, and with only a table for support – which inventively turns into a bed, a sofa, and a bath amongst others – and which really helps our imagination run wild to appreciate Zsofia’s full situation. A hard, sometimes complex, watch but dealing with this awful condition with honesty and sincerity. Congratulations!

Review – Clickbait, Flashdrive Theatre, Fringe Festival, University of Northampton 3rd Year (BA) Acting and Creative Practice Students, The Platform, Northampton, 29th April 2019

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Although I’m now an old hand at the Flash Festival, where the 3rd Year Acting Students at Northampton University perform their dissertation pieces, this is my first exposure to the Fringe Festival, seeing the work of the (BA) Acting and Creative Practice Students. And there’s a ton of shows on offer – fourteen in all and I’m (hopefully) going to be seeing all bar one of them – just can’t quite squeeze that last one in, sadly. Many of them I’ll see in the company of my esteemed blogger-in-crime Mr Smallmind, and hopefully we’ll find time to review them all as soon as possible!

The first show was Clickbait, performed by Flashdrive Theatre, a lively, funny and occasionally gruesome fifty minutes in the company of Luke-ing Good Luke and Emmazing Emma, two YouTubers who decide to promote their channels by a series of co-operation videos. Luke guests on Emma’s films, she on his; their popularity explodes so that they become LukeandEmma, their fans become Lemmans, and there’s no stopping their success. At first they fake their “relationship” in order to get more clicks, but romance does indeed blossom, and there’s more than one way in which they can exploit themselves in order to get an overwhelming number of thumbs-up. Is it a guaranteed path to fame and fortune? And are they strong enough to weather the problems that their self-exploitation inevitably causes?

Cleverly incorporating use of live phone recordings, we the audience can see exactly what the YouTube audience sees on their screens, and the play excels in conveying that sense that you can see everything that happens in these two young people’s lives. There’s neither privacy, nor risk that they won’t take. Punctuating the play are scenes from an amusing video lecture on how to be a good YouTuber, bringing in every visual pun under the sun, and entertaining us during the scene changes.

George Henry and Shona Bullas have a great partnership on stage, with no holds barred on the physical challenges the characters give each other – eggs smashed on heads, eating soap powder, covering each other with milk….and they’re the polite moments! The characters’ shared times of physical intimacy are also done with great conviction and just the right level of decorum (or not). The constant conversations between the two characters flowed seamlessly and it was all very well rehearsed and slick in performance.

There’s also an element of challenging the audience with what levels of degradation we’re prepared to witness people expose themselves to – and the sacrifices incurred as a result. I certainly watched some of the #Lemmacon “big challenge” scene through my fingers. It certainly makes you question whether you should encourage young people to demean themselves just for some short-lived and shallow popularity.

That’s put paid to any aspirations I might have had about being a YouTube performer! A very enjoyable, funny (but also sad) play. Great work!

Review – The Girl on the Train, Royal and Derngate, Northampton, 25th April 2019

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First you get the book. Then you get the film of the book. Then you get the play of the film of the book. Sometimes you get the musical of the play of the film of the book. And somewhere in the middle of all this, new creativity gets suffocated in a cynical desire to rehash the same material just to make money. I ask you, is that right?

Rant over. I’ve not seen the film of The Girl on the Train, but I did buy the book for Mrs Chrisparkle as a Christmas present, in 2017. She hasn’t read it yet. And now that we’ve seen the play, there’s probably no point. However, I got the feeling that the majority of the (nearly full house) audience on Thursday last had indeed either seen it, or read it, or both. Experiencing the same story in a second, third or even fourth format must be like the Arts equivalent of comfort eating. You don’t need it to nourish you, but it can be especially satisfying. So I guess that answers my question in paragraph 1, above.

Rachel has a drink problem. She wakes up one morning on the kitchen floor with an unexplained injury to her forehead and puke in a pizza box. Ex-husband Tom calls to warn her that a witness saw her overnight in the area where a young woman, Megan, was last seen before going missing, so the police might ask her about it. Before long, Rachel has tracked down Megan’s husband Scott, pretending that she and Megan were old friends, and has set up an appointment with Megan’s therapy counsellor. The trouble is, the further that Rachel gets involved with the investigation, the harder it is for her to extricate herself from it…

The first thing that struck me about this story, whilst I was watching it, was its similarities to the Bridge Theatre’s recent production of Alys Always, where the central character finds herself the only witness to a death and then manipulates the truth to her own advantage and financial benefit. Both Mrs C and I thought that the way that Rachel infiltrated Megan’s life, by befriending her husband Scott and challenging the professionalism of her therapist Kamal, was extremely far-fetched. Comparisons are odious, but Alys Always felt the much more realistic of the two plays. However, in the realm of stage thrillers, we both thought Girl on the Train was much more successful than the similarly structured Rebus: Long Shadows that toured a few months back. Most importantly, the final denouement is genuinely exciting and surprising, as your suspicions as to whodunit flip between three people over the final fifteen minutes, until your doubts are finally confirmed.

As can sometimes happen with a touring play, the Derngate stage is much wider than required for this production, and my guess is that if you’re sat on the extreme sides of the auditorium you might spend a lot of the evening looking at blank, black walls. Although, to be fair, the wide stage worked well for the tableau image that starts the second act, with Matt Concannon’s unnamed police officer staring very officiously at us as we made our way back into the auditorium after the interval. Apart from that, James Cotterill’s set is decently flexible, with Tom and Anna’s nice pad stacked neatly behind Scott’s lonely living room, which in turn is stacked behind Rachel’s rather sordid kitchen. Two office chairs dangle in and out to represent Kamal’s therapy suite, and the various train effects, including a bright strip of white light at the end, work dazzle with effectiveness.

Samantha Womack once again omits her Eurovision appearance from her programme bio, but us fans have long memories. She plays Rachel with superb sullenness, a confused, distressed person looking for clues not only to what happened to Megan, but also to pin down her own identity. There’s not a lot of light and shade in her character, but you do make a kind of journey of redemption with her throughout the course of the play. Rachel isn’t a likeable character by any means; but you’ve got to admire her survival instinct.

There’s an ensemble feel to the rest of the cast as their characters drift in and out of Rachel’s life, but I particularly enjoyed John Dougall as D I Gaskill, a meddling little man who delights in leaving his detective work at his front door, and Lowenna Melrose as Anna, Tom’s new wife, who becomes progressively more aggravated at constantly bumping into Rachel everywhere she goes. Oliver Hipwell plays Scott as a cool cucumber, easily manipulated and surprisingly unaffected by his wife’s disappearance; Adam Jackson-Smith is an apparently thoughtful on the surface Tom, but with secrets of his own; Naeem Hayat is convincing as the counsellor Kamal who doesn’t need much to break patient confidentiality; and Kirsty Oswald is an appealing Megan, a free spirit caught up in others’ power games, and whose red dress steadily turns black from the bottom up during the course of the evening. There must be a symbolic reason for this, but I’m blowed if I can work it out.

All in all, a smart little production, that perhaps delivered more than it promised, and I was certainly fully rapt in trying to be one step ahead in solving the crime from my seat in Row F. The company has a gruelling tour that carries on until November, with Newcastle, Dartford, Coventry, Nottingham, Shrewsbury, Dublin, Belfast, Brighton, Sheffield, Norwich, Guildford, Oxford, Canterbury, Birmingham, Aberdeen, Bradford, High Wycombe, Cambridge, Plymouth, Swindon, Bromley, Malvern, Woking, Eastbourne, Cardiff and Blackpool all still to come. If you enjoy a good stage thriller, this is for you!

Review – Ghosts, Royal and Derngate, Northampton, 23rd April 2019

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They say you never forget the teacher who influenced you the most. I was lucky enough to have two. John Steane and Bruce Ritchie, both of whom taught me English literature through O levels, to A levels, to Oxbridge. Sadly, neither of them is with us anymore, but both were inspirational; Bruce was the man for anything 20th century and his passion for Pinter and Stoppard was out of this world. John was the go-to for anything 19th century and earlier; Shakespeare, Marlowe (he edited the Penguin edition), Restoration Comedy, Sheridan – and Ibsen. Yes, it wasn’t all laughs in his lessons (well, actually, it was.) But it was after reading Ghosts in his class that I went out and bought all Ibsen’s plays in various paperbacks. It was also the first time I came across the notion of theatre censorship, which has continued to fascinate me all my life. And that little lad at school was determined that one day he’d see Ghosts on stage.

Who knew that would take the best part of forty-five years to achieve?! But Lucy Bailey’s new production, adapted by Mike Poulton, in the intimate delights of the Royal Theatre in Northampton is definitely worth waiting for. In brief: the late Captain Alving appeared to be a Pillar of the Community (to use another Ibsen title) but in fact was a philanderer and a scoundrel. His wife Helen briefly left him but was talked into taking him back by their friend Pastor Manders, who convinced her that it was simply The Right Thing to Do. When prodigal son Oswald returns home from his life as an artist in the capitals of Europe, it’s revealed that he is suffering from syphilis that he has inherited from his father, so the truth about Alving’s womanising has to come out. Also awkward – he’s falling in love with Helen’s housekeeper Regina, who, it emerges, is his half-sister. The ghosts of the past come back to haunt the present, and the sins of the fathers are visited upon the sons. It comes as no surprise that this is not a play with a happy ending; although Ibsen keeps its final resolution deliberately obscure.

When you enter the auditorium, you’re instantly struck by the sound of rain. Torrential rain. It’s been raining for days in Rosenvald. Characters arrive and moan about the rain (even if, occasionally, the actors seem to be bone dry – slightly odd I thought). But, in the words of Elkie Brooks, there is always Sunshine after the Rain, and that’s what the physically and mentally devastated Oswald yearns for – the sun. As the stage slowly begins to fill with light at the end of the play, the sun represents the morphia that Oswald begs his mother to administer, which will finally put his mind and body at rest. For most of us, a new dawn would be cause for optimism. Perhaps it is for Oswald too. It’s a heavy symbolism, but then you don’t go to Ibsen for a drawing-room comedy.

Mike Britton’s gloomy set is suitably dour for this comfortable, respectable yet austere household, with a relatively small acting space out front, and a partly-hidden dining room behind, where maids sit and sew and a drunken Oswald gets rowdy-rowdy with Regina. I’m guessing this was deliberately done to make the back room feel further away, but I found myself strangely irritated by the circuitous route that the actors had to make from the back, going around the table the long way in order to get to the front room – it just seemed unnecessarily artificial. I did, however, very much enjoy the change to the set between Acts Two and Three, when the orphanage is burning down. The set swivels by, I’d guess, about 20° to the left, so that the suggestion of flames and ash comes pouring onto the stage; all very effective.

Penny Downie gives an impressive performance as Mrs Alving; at first, comfortable in her position in the household, in charge of business deals to the best of her ability, authoritative with Regina, motherly with Oswald, and treading the difficult line of assertive and malleable in her dealings with Manders. As the “ghosts” begin to return, you can see her world beginning to fall apart, and Ms Downie portrays Helen’s increasing desperation and sadness to delicious effect. As her unfortunate son Oswald, Pierro Niel-Mee convincingly shows us the character’s decline, from his robust defence of his beliefs, through alcohol dependence and the hopeless dalliance with Regina, into both physical and mental torture.

Declan Conlon’s Engstrand is a disreputable rogue, who spins a convincing yarn about his seamen’s mission; his performance is such that you can never quite decide on Engstrand’s level of honesty – which nicely adds to the murkier aspects of the plot. Eleanor McLoughlin’s Regina is a picture of well-maintained respectability and knowing her place until the truth of her parentage is revealed – and then the worm turns with acute pain and fury.

But it is James Wilby’s performance as Pastor Manders that you remember the most. A perfect portrayal of utter bigotry, a control freak who intimidates all those who come into his orbit into submission to his will, a weasel who’ll allow others to take the blame for his own mistakes, simply to preserve his own reputation. Ibsen created a repulsively believable hypocrite in Manders, and Mr Wilby gets that mix of bullying and wheedling perfectly. Some of his comments are so outrageous, within the context of Victorian decency, that the audience is propelled into unsettled, anxious laughter. A great performance.

Disgusting, said the commentators at the time. “An open drain, a loathsome sore unbandaged, a dirty act done publicly, a lazar-house with all its doors and windows open” (Daily Telegraph). With critical notices like that, who needs enemies? As always, through the passage of time, the play’s true value and significance is now understood, and this production does it complete justice. It’s only on until 11th May, so you don’t have long to catch it, but you really should.

Review – The Bay at Nice, Menier Chocolate Factory, 21st April 2019

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I’ve been an admirer of David Hare’s work right from the start of his career (there can’t have been many 12-year-olds who read Slag in the early 70s) and it’s rewarding to fill the gaps in one’s knowledge by seeing the various gems of his back catalogue. I had never heard of The Bay at Nice, his 1986 one-act play set in a grand but comfortless display room at the Hermitage in St Petersburg – or Leningrad, as it was then. But I rarely pass up a chance to see what the Menier next has to offer, so it was with no preconceptions that Mrs Chrisparkle and I chose to spend our Easter Sunday in Southwark.

The year is 1956. Esteemed art expert Valentina Nrovka has been asked by the curators of the Hermitage to inspect a new acquisition – allegedly a Matisse – that has recently been bequeathed to the museum. There is some uncertainty as to its authenticity; and, as Mme Nrovka knew the artist personally in her youth, it is thought she would see through any deliberate attempts by a faker to pretend to the great man’s work. She is accompanied to the Hermitage by her daughter, Sophia, herself a part-time artist, and full-time disappointment to her mother. Over the course of 75 minutes, mother and daughter dissect their difficult relationship as Sophia’s marriage breakdown and new romantic liaison is revealed, against a backdrop of Communist Party politics, the motivation for creativity, the lure of the homeland, and the valuation of art.

One of the genuinely thrilling aspects of seeing a production at the Menier is the discovery of how they have configured its marvellously adaptable acting space. Fotini Dimou’s set has required the 200-or-so seats to be re-arranged, L-shaped, on just two sides of the theatre, to create a comparatively huge space, filled with coloured, borrowed light, to represent one of those enormous Hermitage galleries. Plush red and gilt chairs have been stacked unceremoniously to one side of the stage, beneath a Grand Master’s work; on the back wall of the stage, double doors that lead to the rest of the museum, the only clue that there’s a life outside. As the late afternoon turns into the early evening, Paul Pyant’s lighting design gradually becomes progressively dimmer, which may imply that the longer you talk about life and art – and the less you actually do it – clarity and understanding of these issues reduces. When Mme Nrovka finally looks at the painting, there’s only enough light for a peremptory glimpse – mind you, that’s all she needs.

Penelope Wilton is simply magnificent as Valentina, a woman who has reached a time in life when she is so accustomed to suppress any individual desires, who values the altruism of self-denial, if it’s to achieve a greater good. Her daughter, she reckons, is shallow beyond belief, following a path of self-interest which both ill-serves her family and prevents her from artistic expression. And she doesn’t like to be shaken up and questioned by what she perceives to be an inferior intellect; and is perfectly comfortable to say precisely what she thinks, regardless of how it might offend or distress others. Ms Wilton delivers Hare’s tremendous lines with natural authority, cutting sarcasm, forceful majesty, and a reasoned spite, in what is probably my favourite performance in a play so far this year.

Giving almost as good as she gets, Ophelia Lovibond is excellent as Sophia; patronised, forced to explain herself, intimidated into defiance against her mother and her strictures. It’s a great portrayal of someone who, in everyday life has all the confidence needed to lead an assertive life but who crumbles under parental pressure. David Rintoul is also very good as her new man Peter, awkwardly hovering in the sidelines, choosing silence rather reacting to a taunt, putting his case plainly, honestly and supportively. And Martin Hutson is also great as the Assistant Curator, treading carefully around the Grande Dame’s ego, gently guiding her in the direction he wants, to the benefit of both self and party.

Despite its length, this dynamic little play packs a real punch and gives you so much to consider, laugh at, and identify with. Richard Eyre’s production is a first-class experience all the way. We loved it! It’s on at the Menier until 4th May, and I’d heartily recommend it.

Review – Disney High School Musical, Northampton Musical Theatre Company Youth Society, Cripps Hall Theatre, Northampton, 18th April 2019

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This was our first exposure to the NMTC Youth Society, and to the Cripps Theatre, and to Disney’s High School Musical – so we had a lot to take in at once! It’s a great show for young people to tackle, because it’s full of activity, comedy, enjoyable songs and great dancing; and it also teaches you a few of those life lessons that most of us don’t get to grips with until we’re far, far older!

In case you don’t know… Troy and Gabriella met over the summer holidays – and, surprise surprise, come September, they discover that she’s moved to be a student in the same school as he is! Troy loves his basketball, and Gabriella’s a bit of a brainbox; but they’re both also attracted to audition for the school musical. But Troy’s father is the basketball coach and he’s never going to allow his son to waste his time on stage; and anyway, Sharpay and Ryan always get the best roles in the school show, so there’s no point trying – is there? If only there were a way that Troy could both lead the basketball team and appear in the show with Gabriella…..

This is a very enjoyable show which appeals to young and old alike, not only because of its musical comedy nature, but also its great advice as to how to live your life. It gives you the confidence to be yourself; it shows that you can, for example, be interested and be good at both sport and the arts; it shows you how to deal with bullies; it reminds you that it’s impossible to please everyone, so, whilst not being spiteful about it, the best thing is to please yourself; and it shows you that when circumstances conspire against you, and you think there’s no way out of your problem – there’s always a way if you think hard enough about it. No wonder it’s so popular!

NMTC Youth Company’s production was a feast for the eyes and ears throughout. Excellent costumes, terrific choreography, a useful and attractive set, and a superb orchestration played by Rod Iliffe and his seven musicians. It had a truly professional feel throughout, and everyone gave a top-quality performance, with confidence and skill to the forefront. I was particularly impressed with how much commitment the young performers gave to their stage presence and to the dancing. The musical numbers filled the stage with excitement and life, and there was always something going on for the audience to enjoy.

Although it’s a true ensemble performance, there were many individual performances to appreciate. Ben Mineards and Eleanor Whitestone-Paul made a strong couple as Troy and Gabriella; they sang with great character and beautiful harmonies, and when they went in for the big kiss, the whole audience ooohed with pleasure! Emily Moss and Henry Patterson were also excellent as the bossy, spoilt, shallow, show-offy Sharpay and her (sometimes) obedient, flamboyant sidekick twin Ryan, delighting in their “baddie” roles. Anya Neal and Matt Dixon were very convincing in the adult roles of Ms Darbus and Coach Bolton; Ms Neal revelling in the artistic nonsense that her character spouts, Mr Dixon very nicely portraying his character’s barely suppressed bullying tendencies – we all know a sports teacher like that!

Abi Faulder was excellent in the difficult role of Jackie Scott, the radio announcer who acts as a running commentator throughout the show; and Kelsi Neilson was also very good as the down-to-earth composer Hatti, always with an eye out for the best interests of her creation and assertively refusing to allow it to be hijacked. I enjoyed Isabel Robinson’s supportive performance as Martha, and Joe Jeffery impressed with both his dancing and his aptitude for the stage comedy.

However, most impressive for me were Troy Anderson and Violet Clarke as Chad and Taylor; engaging, likeable, with superb stage presence, great singing voices and dancing ability. Young Mr Anderson seems to me to be born to entertain – a true song and dance man in the making. But everyone, from the smallest and youngest upwards, put on a terrific show and the audience absolutely loved it. Congratulations to all!

P. S. The NMTC Youth Company is made up of young people aged between 8 and 18 and they’re already preparing for next year’s show. Maybe you should take part?! Check here for updates!

Review – The Long Walk Back, Underground at the Derngate, 13th April 2019

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Do you remember the story about cricketer Chris Lewis? He played in thirty-two Test Matches and fifty-three One Day Internationals for England between 1990 and 1998; was a county cricketer for thirteen years, and came out of retirement to play Twenty 20 matches for Surrey in 2008 – not very successfully. He was also found guilty of smuggling cocaine from Saint Lucia into the UK in December 2008, for which he was sentenced to thirteen years in prison. He was released after six years in June 2015.

It was quite a cause célèbre at the time. Why did he do it? Surely not for the money? Didn’t he have the world at his feet? Dougie Blaxland’s The Long Walk Back goes some of the way to tackle these questions. Only some of the way though, because it also raises just as many new questions as it answers! With just a bunk bed, a wicket and a toilet as the set, Martin Edwards as Lewis and Scott Bayliss as his cellmate (whether real or imaginary is up to you to decide) act out various short scenes – in a rather stylised, non-realistic manner, that show Lewis’ distress at incarceration, his mental self-examination and his resolve to survive the experience.

Personally, I can’t imagine how I’d cope with being sent to prison. I guess, somehow, I’d manage it, but don’t press me on the details. The play does make you think how you’d behave if you were in Lewis’ shoes, as it shows how imprisonment affects not only you but your wider family and friends. It also reveals how vulnerable you are – indeed, largely at the mercy of your cellmate in order somehow to get through it all.

You get greater clarity on Lewis’ motivations and explanations when you actually meet him after a short break for a Q&A session with Rough House Theatre Director Shane Morgan. Charming, self-deprecating, and extremely honest, Lewis comes across as a thoroughly decent man, who’s still looking for the answers himself, and using this whole theatre experience as a way of trying to sort out his head. The play tackles the question of taking responsibility for one’s own actions and it’s clear that he blames no one for what he did other than himself. A question from the audience asked whether or not the player associations should take more responsibility for what players do both during and after their career – and Mr Lewis’ answer was, basically, no.

This is an unusual way to spend a Saturday night at the theatre, and, whilst it didn’t soar to heights of great tragedy or huge revelations about the human condition, it did give you an insight into what it’s like to be someone who had it all, then had nothing, and then slowly turned their life back into something positive. The production continues to tour small venues in Bristol, Birmingham, Bath, Leicester, Nottingham and Greenwich.