Review – Emma, Festival Theatre, Chichester, 6th November 2025

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I confess, gentle reader, that I’ve never read Jane Austen’s Emma, but I sense that’s probably an advantage for anyone who sees this Theatre Royal Bath touring production of Ryan Craig’s adaptation of Austen’s 1815 novel. Dramatising a book always means having to make massive cuts to the original, otherwise you’d never be able to fit it into two and a half hours including an interval. But an Emma fan might well have firm ideas as to what to keep and what to boot out.

Jane Austen is very much in vogue at the moment – indeed, was she ever out of it? With the recent joyous production of Pride and Prejudice* (*Sort Of) and Laura Wade’s affectionate upending of the Austen landscape in The Watsons, she’s a target for modernisation and mickey-taking, whilst still admiring and relishing the essence of the original. I expected this adaptation to be much more surreal or meta; but, in fact, it’s a pretty straightforward production that tells Austen’s story (as far as I can make out) reasonably honestly and with a charming lightness of touch that brings all the relevant aspects of the nineteenth century into the present day.

Emma is a meddling, big-headed and insensitive young woman who knows her own mind and doesn’t know when to back down. She plucks a poor orphan girl, Harriet Smith, from obscurity and tries to make her fit for society, with no empathy for Harriet’s wishes or the honest farmer with whom she has been romantically linked. Instead, she sets her up with the local clergyman Mr Elton, who completely gets the wrong end of the stick and thinks that Emma has romantic ideas for herself on him, rather than trying to cultivate a romance between him and Harriet.

The first Act is very much a comedy of errors; but by the start of the second Act Elton has quickly married the snobbish Augusta, shattering Harriet’s expectations. Local gent Mr Knightley is sorry for Harriet and dances with her at a ball – which instantly convinces Harriet that they are both madly in love with each other; further disappointments ensue. Add to this mix Emma’s Achilles heel – the long-admired Mr Churchill, her rival in love Miss Fairfax, her bumbling old father and some heavy home truths from Knightley, and you have a recipe for a veritable West Country Coronation Street of tussles, resentments and misunderstandings.

Stephen Unwin’s production is slick and smart, with an emphasis on the comedy which can divert you from the fact that, deep down, Emma is a truly nasty piece of work, with a malicious streak revealing that she doesn’t give two hoots about anyone’s happiness or wellbeing. Her relish, for example, at the prospect of watching the admittedly dreadful Mrs Elton eating a strawberry (to which she allergic) is downright cruel. Any other character insights are pretty much ignored, as it’s all done for fun, and everything turns out all right in the end.

Ceci Calf’s set design is as blank and simple as you can imagine, inviting a silent running joke about the endless times that Mr Woodhouse’s chair and side table are diligently and knowingly brought on and off the stage. Her costume design is traditional and functional, all very respectable and nothing too showy except for the extravagant costume of the tastelessly imperious Augusta.

The cast all capture the spirit of the show very well, with a strong and credible central performance by India Shaw-Smith as Emma, bristling with confidence and the certainty that she is the most important person in the universe. In her professional debut, Maiya Louise Thapar gives us an affectionately unworldly Harriet, trapped by Emma’s plans and convincingly disturbed when all her prospects turn to dust.

William Chubb gives a scene-stealing performance as Woodhouse, curmudgeonly but not irredeemably so, knowing when to escape for the good of his senses. Ed Sayer gives a charismatic performance as Knightley, dishing out the criticisms much to Emma’s annoyance; Oscar Batterham is excellent as the hopeful Elton, only to be replaced by a more world-weary version after his marriage, and Rose Quentin is superb as the ghastly Augusta, point-scoring wherever she can, and never satisfied even when she has the best of everything.

The production never really soars into either the blissfully funny or revelatory character examination, but it bubbles along jovially in a sequence of amusing scenes and does exactly what it says on the tin. Did it make me want to read the book? Not really. But it was an entertaining way to spend a Thursday evening in Chichester!

 

3-starsThree-sy Does It!

Review – Death on the Nile, Royal and Derngate, Northampton, 4th November 2025

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Death on the Nile is one of Agatha Christie’s most famous stories; its enduring popularity evidenced by its being adapted for film twice, with Peter Ustinov as Poirot in 1978 and Kenneth Branagh in the role in 2022. Christie even adapted the book as a play herself – Murder on the Nile, which appeared in the West End in 1946. Wisely, this production goes nowhere near that play, which isn’t that impressive to be honest. Instead, Ken Ludwig, who also adapted Murder in the Orient Express a few years ago, has created a brand-new adaptation – and certainly taken plenty of liberties with the original.

In the British MuseumI mention this because, if you are an Agatha Christie purist, you might be aghast at some of the changes made. Christie filled her book with several extraneous characters who are all red herrings and play no part in the “plot”, so it makes sense to remove some of them. However, in so doing, Ludwig has also created new characters, such as the Shakespearean actor Septimus Troy and British Museum curator Atticus Praed, primarily to enable a new introductory scene where Poirot attends an unveiling of a priceless sarcophagus on loan to the museum. This provides the museum donors with the opportunity to accompany the sarcophagus on its journey back to Egypt, transporting it on the luxury Nile cruise boat, the Karnak. A sheer flight of fantasy by the writer, but it does at least provide a purpose for the cruise.

The Ottebournes and RamsesOnce we get to Egypt, the play starts to become more recognisably Death on the Nile, although there are still liberties taken – for example, the scene in the book where Linnet escapes being crushed by a falling boulder at Abu Simbel is replaced by her being trapped inside the sarcophagus and only just escaping in time. Ludwig’s script tells its story very clearly and engagingly and Lucy Bailey’s direction, despite a few unnecessarily stylised moments, is clean and effective in presenting the story whilst being honest with the audience as to how the crime was committed. And, most importantly, the play remains true to the book as regards the victim and perpetrator – although some other crimes in the book are omitted in this production.

Poirot introduces the storyLudwig makes Poirot the narrator of the story, bookending it with an opening scene where he accidentally observes Simon Doyle meet Jacqueline de Bellefort at a train station, and ending it with an explanation of what happened to some of the other characters who were not involved with the crime. Ludwig can’t resist a couple of meta moments, with Colonel Race saying he hates the bit in the story where Poirot brings everyone into the room to confront them with a final denouement and Poirot contradicts him saying he loves that bit and goes offstage to prepare for it; and perhaps most cheekily when Poirot announces that Shakespeare’s not at all bad, but he’s no Agatha Christie. Well done, very clever.

Nice setMike Britton’s set gives a good sense of the luxury of the boat, and combined with Oliver Fenwick’s lighting, effectively suggests various distant cabins and lounges, inhabited by transitory shadows, and general gives a convincing vibe of what “boat life” is all about. Unfortunately, the set doesn’t give you any sense of the gentle cruising motion of the boat, nor any sense of passing scenery. There’s a metal railing at the back of the set suggesting that beyond it is the river and its bank, but the backdrop remains firmly rooted in stillness, depicting some sheer rock face, so it doesn’t look as though they’re moving at all. Fenwick’s lighting comes into its own in the final denouement where it shines light on the crime reconstruction in a most satisfying way. And the costumes are arresting, with some glamorous evening dresses, even if they are more suggestive of the 1920s than 30s (that’s the purist in me raising his head again).

LinnetThe performances are mostly very good, occasionally excellent. Esme Hough as Jacqueline and Libby Alexandra-Cooper, in her professional stage debut as Linnet, make a formidably antagonistic duo. Ms Hough is the picture of revenge as she targets her plots against those who have done her wrong, and Ms Alexandra-Cooper is delightfully petulant, rejecting any responsibility for what she has done. The coupling of Camilla Anvar as Miss Otterbourne and Nicholas Prasad as Ramses Praed also works extremely well, with very believable characterisations and an entertaining portrayal of young love.

JacquelineAlways one of my favourite actors, Howard Gossington is great as Atticus Praed, mixing geeky enthusiasm with paternal pride; and Nye Occomore is very good in the slightly underwritten role of Simon Doyle, quietly confident and nicely smug at his success with women. Some of the other characters come across a little too pantomimey for my liking, but I don’t think that’s a failing on the actors’ part, it’s what they’re required to do. Ludwig’s adaptation has made Colonel Race something of a comic buffoon, which is not how Christie presents him at all.

Poirot reflectsMark Hadfield plays Poirot in a very engaging, confiding, understated way; he absolutely looks the part and, in the second Act, commands the stage with his interrogations and crime solving expertise. His French accent is a little unreliable; I’m sure you don’t pronounce très important as tray important but tray zimporton, but maybe it’s a Belgian thing. He also occasionally stumbles over his lines, and that’s very un-Poirot-like, who’s the paragon of precision. But overall, it’s a very good performance and he does convince you that he has little grey cells beyond the dreams of avarice.

Poirot, Jacqueline, Simon, LinnetOverall, an entertaining and diverting adaptation, well staged and acted. Just try not to be a purist if possible! After its week in Northampton, its extensive tour continues through to May 2026, visiting Truro, Torquay, Cardiff, Guildford, Canterbury, Chichester, Cheltenham, Malvern, Aberdeen, Glasgow, York, Sheffield, Edinburgh, Brighton, Birmingham, Nottingham, Dublin, Belfast, Norwich, Cambridge and Plymouth.

Production photos by Manuel Harlan

3-starsThree-sy Does It!

 

P. S. I was most delighted to read about the references to other works in the Christie canon in the programme, as they are almost identical to the references I mention in my Agatha Christie Challenge, so this is a perfect opportunity for me to plug my two-volume book. An excellent early Christmas present for a Christie fan!!

 

Vitalii Petrenko and the Secret of the Roman Baths, a new children’s book by Claire Bramwell-Pearson

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Vitalii Petrenko and the Secret of the Roman Baths

Vitalii Petrenko and the Secret of the Roman Baths

The Charitable Association, The Friends of Oleksandriya, in Ukraine, announces the release of a new children’s novella, Vitalii Petrenko and the Secret of the Roman Baths by Claire Bramwell-Pearson. Set in the city of Bath, this is the tale of an unlikely friendship across cultures, sprinkled with oodles of dragon-filled magic. Now available in paperback, this new title is the perfect fantasy read for children aged 8 and beyond.

Vitalii Petrenko and the Secret of the Roman Baths follows talented footballer Vitalii, his mother Tetiana, and little sister Nadia, who flee the war in Ukraine and settle in the outskirts of Bath. Their arrival coincides with fish mysteriously disappearing from supermarkets and ponds all over Bath. Vitalii is befriended by hopelessly disorganised but history-loving Edward Austen who shows Vitalii Roman coins that he has discovered in his back garden. While waiting to consult the Roman Bath’s Curator, Vitalii accidentally drops magic coins into the warm water which awaken a Ukrainian three-headed dragon, Zmiy Horynych…and an unexpected adventure begins.

Author Claire Bramwell-Pearson, illustrator Alexandra Dikaia and Chair of the Friends of Oleksandriya, Zhenya Shkil

Both heartwarming and heroic, the narrative is complemented by captivating illustrations by Ukrainian artist Alexandra Dikaia, bringing the story’s characters and settings to life. Whether read aloud at bedtime, used in a classroom setting, or independently explored at the weekend, Vitalii Petrenko and the Secret of the Roman Baths ignites the imagination while spotlighting Britain’s solidarity with Ukraine in a spellbinding and strikingly original way.

Author Claire Bramwell-Pearson completed a Communication Arts Degree and subsequently worked on ITV’s successful cartoon series The Telebugs, followed by Walt Disney’s groundbreaking Who Framed Roger Rabbit? Following a stint in New York, she worked for Steven Spielberg on Balto, We’re Back and American Tail II, and Warner Bros Studios on Space Jam and Quest for Camelot. In 2019, New York’s renowned Gotham Writers Workshop led her to the wonderful Writing for Young People MA at Bath Spa University.

Alexandra Dikaia is a Ukrainian illustrator, writer, and concept artist with over fifteen years of experience in design and illustration. She is the author and illustrator of The Moonmill Fairy Tales and founder of Add Magic Academy, where she leads creative courses and challenges. She has been a featured speaker at Women Techmakers events inspired by Google and she illustrated a non-fiction book about chocolate for the prominent Staryi Lev Publishing House. Her art blends simplicity with profound meaning, embodying her philosophy of healthy minimalism and creativity as a path to self-discovery.

Children in Oleksandriya with the book

Children in Oleksandriya with the book

The Friends of Oleksandriya is a charitable association that promotes support and solidarity for Ukraine, particularly between Bath & North East Somerset and Oleksandriya. It believes that by working together, a difference can be made to people’s lives and a better world can be created. The team is made up of volunteers who are passionate about helping others and creating impact.

Since its establishment, The Friends of Oleksandriya, in partnership with the Rotary Club of Bath, managed to raise more than £100,000 to buy 13 7.5kW generators, a 70kW generator for the Children’s Hospital in Oleksandriya, and a 100kW generator for the Central Hospital of Oleksandriya. The Friends of Oleksandriya believe that everyone deserves access to basic human needs such as food, shelter, education, and medical care. In December 2024, Oleksandriya received a 200kVA generator from the charity for one of their hospitals, as well as over one thousand Christmas presents for children of all ages.

Zhenya Shkil, Alexandra Dikaia and Claire Bramwell-Pearson

Founder and trustee of The Friends of Oleksandriya Zhenya Shkil says: “We were extremely lucky to be introduced to a graduated writer for Young People from Bath Spa University, who has an incredibly original vision and vibrant imagination. When we first met, I told Claire about a children’s café I went to in Oleksandriya and how there was a huge statue of Ukrainian fairytale characters outside it. One of them was Zmiy Horynych and the other was Kotyhoroshko, who fought Zmiy Horynych, and I showed her the picture. She managed to take the antagonist of the story and transform him into a sympathetic character, moving him to Bath and creating a magical world, a new form of folklore.”

Now available in paperback, the book was featured as part of the Bath Children’s Literature Festival and can be purchased from a range of local independent shops, including Mr B’s Emporium, the Bath Abbey Gift Shop, Topping & Company Booksellers, Bathford Community School, and the bookshop in Bradford-on-Avon. The official book launch will take place on Saturday 8th November 2025 at 2pm at the Bath Royal Literary and Scientific Institution. It’s free to attend and everyone is welcome; all the details can be found here. In addition, I hope to introduce The Real Chrisparkle readers to the author Claire Bramwell-Pearson in an interview very soon!

Review – Screaming Blue Murder, Underground at the Royal and Derngate, Northampton, 25th October 2025

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It’s so great to see Screaming Blue Murder back in rude health in the Underground where it belongs. Sold out too – always rewarding when the start is slightly delayed by staff having to bring in extra chairs. Our genial host Dan Evans was on tippety-top form as he negotiated the slings and arrows of twins Laura and Henry’s joint 40th birthday party outing, with a considerable number of the audience vocally in support of the uninhibited pair. If that wasn’t enough, another lady on the front row said she had a dream about Dan the night before and – let’s just say – he had proved himself to be all man. Well. If that isn’t sexual harassment in the workplace, I don’t know what is. Dan spent most of the show avoiding her gaze or quietly smug about his sexual expertise.

Our first act, new to Northampton but not to us, was Abigoliah Schamaun, someone we’ve seen many times at the Edinburgh Fringe and who always brings a gutsy kick up any proceedings. Ohio’s loss is London’s gain, as Abigoliah gave us her impressions on how an American survives in the UK, including our (apparent) obsession with butter in a sandwich – I mean, it’s what butter was made for, honestly – how sexy an English accent is, and how to deal with fellow Americans on a long train journey. Her comedy is intelligent, relatable, and delightfully teasing. A fantastic start to the evening.

Next up was Toussaint Douglass, who had a great Edinburgh Fringe this year with his Accessible Pigeon Material; successful no doubt because he tried it out at Northampton’s Comedy Crate earlier this summer. No pigeon on Saturday night, just his incredibly funny and recognisable content about being in a relationship for eight years, having an 87-year-old flatmate (his Grandma) and the reasons for his personal ambition to die alone. He has a marvellously disarming style; very engaging and confiding, almost physically cosying up to the audience to get across his comic gems. His beautifully delivered final jokes, about how his bedroom activity can be likened to a football manager, provided the best laughs of the night.

Our headliner was Tony Law, someone who you either “get” or you don’t, and in the past I’ve found that I usually don’t get his surreal and otherworldly humour. But on this occasion, he knocked it out of the park. Brilliant use of props for completely throwaway purposes, and a hilarious use of accents, including a damn fine stab at the bizarre Northampton accent which is like a cross between Cockney and Brummie. His rapport with the audience was exceptional, and we were laughing about his act all the way home.

That was the last Screaming Blue for 2025 but there are already four gigs in 2026 on sale. Can’t wait!

Review – Safe Space, Minerva Theatre, Chichester, 23rd October 2025

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When I was a kid, Statues meant a game where you had to freeze whenever the music stopped or someone looked at you. Ah, the halcyon days of innocence! Today, statues are just as likely to be a symbol of oppression or a monument to the unforgivable. Who can forget the statue of Saddam Hussein being toppled in 2003, or the division caused by chucking the statue of Edward Colston into Bristol harbour; or the efforts of the police to protect the statue of Winston Churchill during recent protests, and the debate over the future of the statue of Cecil Rhodes at Oriel College Oxford?

In 2017, Colhoun College, part of Yale University, changed its name to Grace Hopper College, in honour of the computer scientist, mathematician and Rear Admiral who had earned two doctorates from Yale. But there had been calls for the college to change its name since the 1960s, John C. Colhoun having been an outspoken supporter of slavery. Safe Space is Jamie Bogyo’s first play, and he based it on the real-life events that happened at Yale University in 2016/7, where he studied playwrighting. When you enter the auditorium at the Minerva Theatre you are immediately confronted by an imposing statue of Colhoun, suitably bespattered by bird droppings, and you just know he’s going to be a problematic presence.

However, there’s more to life at Yale than being concerned about its alumni’s provocative pasts. I had no idea that, along with all the other Ivy League universities, there is a long tradition of student a cappella singing; today there is even a National (and International) Championship of Collegiate A Cappella. Bogyo inserts a cappella moments into his plot to reflect the wider aspects of college life. There is also a subplot of rivalry between students to take control of influential student groups, with jealousy, false friendships and distrust rife. And there’s also that awkward uncertainty about accidentally saying the wrong thing or using the wrong word when it comes to matters of race or equality; come on, even the most proudly woke of us has been there.

So that’s at least three plots, each of which could sustain a full-length play. Unfortunately, Bogyo has concatenated them all together, with the result that none of them is examined in sufficient detail to create a cohesive and satisfying narrative. Questions, ideas, arguments evolve, but then go nowhere. For example, what damage was done to the statue, and who did it (we never find out, despite an extended scene where the students are waiting to be grilled by the principals). Act One ends on a very lightweight non sequitur that sends us into the interval deflated. One character has an unexpected panic attack, following which we spend a minute or two calming him down – but it is an event that has no bearing on anything that either precedes or follows it. Another truly chaotic and overly busy scene culminates with a fist being smashed through an artwork, but it goes nowhere.

The final scene uses a cappella in a highly unlikely attempt at a reconciliation and we’ve no idea whether the reconciliation is successful. The only issue that receives some kind of resolution is that a decision is made to rename the college – but it’s presented in a very underwhelming way, by disparate characters doomscrolling on their phones. Of course, leaving some issues unresolved is fine – real life is like that – but leaving virtually everything up in the air is annoying. Why did the couple who have sex act so unpleasantly to each other the next day? Why did one of the characters turn from being a supportive friend to a ruthless enemy on the flick of a coin? There’s too much going on and not enough sense being made.

Nevertheless, there’s much to enjoy in the performances and production as a whole. Khadija Raza’s set cleverly adapts to different student bedrooms – basic and luxurious, as well as the intimidating corridor outside the principal’s office and the quadrangle around the statue. The costumes are decently studenty and delightfully formal for the a cappella. Talking of which, the singing is beautiful; both Jamie Bogyo (Connor) and Ernest Kingsley Jr (Isaiah) have exquisitely delicate voices and their harmonies in that final scene – for all its dramatic faults and suspension of belief – are stunning.

All the performances are first rate; Ivan Oyik’s earnestly enthusiastic Omar is a very believable portrayal of a scholarship boy surprised at how well he has done. Bola Akeju almost has to act two characterisations – the friendly supportive Stacy of the opening scenes and the ruthlessly dismissive Stacy once she has achieved power. Céline Buckens is excellent as Connor’s unimpressed girlfriend Annabelle, amusingly checking her phone whilst he’s giving it his everything under the duvet. Jamie Bogyo’s Connor convinces as the kind of guy who simply assumes everything he says is right and that every decent person would always agree with him, and Ernest Kingsley Jr is superb in the most interesting role of Isaiah, the quiet, unassuming student who keeps his beliefs to himself until he is forced to assert his individuality.

It’s a real shame that, despite these excellent elements, the play itself lets the rest of the production down. It’s full of promise, but the end result just doesn’t hang together. So many questions, so few attempts at providing answers. It’s rather like a mass of jangling muscles that need some strong massaging in order to smooth them out and make them do the work they’re meant to. And it’s uncomfortable to be so critical of a writer’s first staged work because there’s obviously a very important and riveting play lurking just beneath the surface – but unfortunately, this isn’t it.

Two Disappointing for More!

Review/Preview – Christian Dart: Gumshoe! Soho Theatre Dean Street London, 7 – 8 November 2025

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GumshoeChristian Dart brings his smash hit Edinburgh show Gumshoe to the Soho Theatre in Dean Street London for two nights in November. It’s a clever mash-up of a Philip Marlowe/Raymond Chandler 1940s New York private detective hero (for want of a better word) with contemporary improv, as a member of the audience provides Christian with the bare facts of what will be his final case to solve. As a result, no two shows are ever the same, which means you never have to confine yourself to just one performance.

Christian DartHis improv skills are second-to-none – he is a member of the comedy group The Bad Clowns – and he manages to create a proper story that genuinely holds water from just fragments of ideas. No spoilers, but expect a lot of gun shooting and twirling, sassy dames, dead colleagues, a real live jewel theft, and even a bit of song and dance. I can only assume Mr Dart has a very high dry-cleaning bill.

C DartThe show makes excellent use of a complex and technically demanding sequence of sound cues which constantly keep the audience (as well as Christian) on their toes. It’s very high on energy, and if you sit in the front row you may well get involved in some of the plot – but it’s always funny and never humiliating or stressful!

The name's GumshoeUnpredictable, frenetic (but in a good way) and exhilarating, this is the kind of show you have to throw yourself wholeheartedly into – the more you put in, the more you get out. You’ll even find out whodunit in the end – although this is definitely a case of the journey being more important than the conclusion! Madcap, racy and pacy, and incredibly good-humoured, this is an hour of enormous fun and impressive imagination. Highly recommended!

Production photos by Johanna Dart Design & Photography

4-starsFour He’s a Jolly Good Fellow!

You can get tickets to see the show at the Soho Theatre here.

Review – Kae Kurd, What’s O’Kurd, Underground at the Royal and Derngate, Northampton, 17th October 2025

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It’s always exciting to go to a comedy gig and not have a clue about the comedians you’re going to see. Kae Kurd is a new name to me, so I thought I would give him a try and it turns out a large number of the comedy goers of Northampton felt the same! It was great to be part of a truly diverse audience too; all ages, all ethnicities coming together for an evening of fun. More of this please.

But first – Kae Kurd’s support act, the friendly face of Muhsin Yesilada, again new to me, but a perfect choice to start the evening with a swing. Engaging, building a confident rapport with the crowd, he delivered his material in a relaxed and surefooted style, giving every comic observation the time and space it needed to land. He has some excellent sequences concerning dealing with his horrible nephew, and that delicious pleasure you can take when an irritating child doesn’t get everything their own way. When he gently teased some latecomers, who protested their lateness because outside they’d just met Kae Kurd, his instant response was “Me too!” A very enjoyable opening act.

After the interval we welcomed Kae Kurd, another engaging stage presence with a very effective delivery style. He presents his act in quite a static way and comes across as perhaps surprisingly low energy; but his tone is unpredictable, and his material is precise, hard-hitting and frequently goes where angels fear to tread. In a deft way of getting to know the audience – and us getting to know each other – he asks for a cheer if you’re in your 20s, then your 30s, your 40s and 50s. This allows him to chat to random people in those age brackets, voicing his opinions and observations about what people are like as they get older. I had to stay silent, as I presume he has no idea there were 60+ year olds there!

He unashamedly hates (strong word, but bear with me) people in their 20s, for all their modern hang-ups and idiosyncrasies. Being somewhere in his 30s himself, that makes him fit nicely into a niche comedic role of grumpy young man. His observations are telling and funny and remarkably true. Other comedy gems of the night included an account of his time in Zambia avoiding crocodiles and hippos, an exploration of whether Donald Trump would get on with choices of pronouns and how it’s easier to be right wing than left wing. I also loved his imagining how he’d get on talking about mental health issues to his father who fought against Saddam Hussein.

He is very quick witted on stage, with a great ability to remember facts about the audience members which he uses to excellent callback effect. It’s intelligent, thought-provoking comedy that’s always relatable, and I’ll definitely follow his career with interest!

 

Review – Entertaining Mr Sloane, Young Vic, London, 15th October 2025

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1964. The year of A Hard Day’s Night and Little Red Rooster, Mary Quant and Bobby Charlton. Harold Wilson became the first Labour Prime Minister since Clement Attlee. And 31-year-old Joe Orton (although he claimed he was 25 in the original programme) had his first stage play, Entertaining Mr Sloane, performed at the Arts Theatre in London. The Guardian called it “a milk-curdling essay in lower-middle-class nihilism” but owing to the support, both financial and moral, of none other than Sir Terence Rattigan, it transferred to Wyndhams’ and had a brief but artistically successful run, winning the London Critics’ Variety award for the best play of 1964.

This is a welcome and inspired choice for Nadia Fall’s first production in charge of the Young Vic. In case you don’t know: Kath lives with her father, Kemp, (the Dadda) and has a spare room which she is going to let out to Mr Sloane. He is 20, a loner; physically appealing in a dangerous way, and it only takes her twenty or so minutes to find a reason for her to remove his trousers. Her brother, Ed, appears influential and wealthy; he doesn’t trust any potential lodgers and intends to send him packing, until he too finds Sloane physically appealing and tries to find a way to get closer to him. Sloane seems inexperienced but knows precisely what both brother and sister are after and works to play the situation to his advantage. The Dadda, however, recognises Sloane as the murderer of his ex-employer. If things weren’t already dark enough, they quickly get darker.

Few creative artists make such a huge mark that they deserve their own adjective, but Ortonesque survives as the only concise way of capturing his particular brand of innovative, dangerous, surreal, sexually charged, axis-changing and rivetingly funny drama. Entertaining Mr Sloane is a classic subversion of a traditional drawing-room comedy; three acts, one location, pretentions to moderate wealth and social influence, it’s no wonder that his work is a natural crossover product of the likes of Coward and Rattigan with Pinter and Osborne.

When the text was sent to the Lord Chamberlain’s office for a licence, the only thing the censor picked up on was the overt sexual activity between Kath and Sloane; all the other undercurrents in the play simply went unnoticed. Seeing Entertaining Mr Sloane today, over sixty years since it first appeared, gives you a strangely nostalgic feel for the Swinging Sixties. You can almost taste how shocking some reactionaries would have found it, and how deliciously it would have appealed to the progressives.

What makes this play stand out though is Orton’s superlative writing skills. The words his characters speak are subtle and nuanced, and their meanings are indirect; his ear for conversational patterns is outstanding. He has that enviable ability to present an awkward, uncomfortable, potentially tragic situation and then instantly send it up so that you burst out laughing and then hate yourself for your insensitivity. No subject is ever out of bounds for Orton. Domestic violence, mistreatment of the elderly, rape and assaults; Kemp grumbles about the number of foreigners coming into the country, committing sexual assaults – some prejudices don’t change.

Peter McKintosh’s set is a work of art in itself. When you enter the auditorium a jumble of domestic items and furniture dangle suspended from the ceiling – chairs, a pram, an ironing board, an airer, and so on; and around the base, a clutter of junk and debris surround the circular stage. Orton points out that Kath and Kemp’s house is next door to rubbish tip, which gave the inspiration for the set. It’s a nice idea, but it’s really only a mention in passing, so it’s neither vital to the plot, nor does it get in the way. The decision to stage the play in the round – because, as confirmed in a programme note, it is a voyeuristic play – works well. There is no hiding place in Entertaining Mr Sloane and there is no hiding place on the set either.

Richard Howell’s lighting design allows for some ingenious effects; off-stage characters are highlighted as if frozen in time, slow-motion sequences are lit artificially to create an other worldliness, and there is a stunningly impactful, strobe-filled start to Act Two which sees Sloane transformed from subdued semi-formal clothing to leather joy boy (the uniform Ed has chosen for him), an effect that fully deserves its own round of applause from the audience. Nadia Fall has made a few other fascinating directorial choices, including an impressive tug-of-love/semi-BDSM final tableau as Kath and Ed rope up the powerless Sloane with telephone wires graphically to convey how successfully the arch manipulator Sloane has been out-manipulated by the brother and sister. I am always a sucker for effective stage combat and the scene where Sloane batters Kemp is fantastically convincing.

Tamzin Outhwaite gives a wonderfully entertaining performance as Kath, a repressed sex kitten in a pinny who moves into Sloane’s space as a surrogate Mummy, unhesitatingly taking the lead whilst protesting her respectability. Her performance is perhaps more geared towards the comedy of the situation than the darkness, with lovely moments with her false teeth, and terrific comic timing of Orton’s killer lines. Daniel Cerqueira’s Ed is a chain-smoking, snide wannabe-bully who allows himself to be distracted and influenced by Sloane, almost but never quite taking control of situations. His vocal delivery reminded me strongly of the comedian Micky Flanagan, which was slightly unsettling; but it’s a convincing portrayal of someone fighting to stay one step ahead.

Christopher Fairbank is excellent as Kemp, a delightfully grubby old man, who’s seen it all and isn’t fooled by anyone, but knows he has to behave if he wants to keep a roof over his head. And, in an outstanding stage debut, Jordan Stephens is superb as Sloane, stringing the siblings along with just the right level of innocence until he flashes into intense anger and violence.

The production does come across as a little ponderous at first, with Act One feeling a little static, with the characters slow to develop. Once the second Act kicks in, the pace builds, and the nastiness intensifies to reach its exciting and unusual conclusion. An excellent opportunity to see Orton’s first stage work – and to reflect on how he could potentially have carved out an immensely successful career had he lived.

4-starsFour They’re Jolly Good Fellows!

Review – Cyrano de Bergerac, Royal Shakespeare Company at the Swan Theatre, Stratford-upon-Avon, 7th October 2025

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If there’s one thing that everyone knows about Cyrano de Bergerac, it’s that he was blessed with an enormous conk. There’s no other way of putting it; coquettishly disguised in the promotional image for the production on the programme and posters. It blights Cyrano’s life, despite his bravura and positivity, and always holds him back from telling his true feelings for fear of rejection and ridicule.

Cyrano and RoxaneFor a play that presents as a frothy comedy, Edmond Rostand’s Cyrano de Bergerac, in this new adaptation by Simon Evans and Debris Stevenson, is packed with serious issues. Its essential message – one as old as time – is to be yourself; arguably none of the chief protagonists achieve this, and (spoiler alert) it doesn’t end happily for any of them. The play also stresses the significance of language; much as one may philosophise today that “the destination is not as important as the journey”, in CdB, the meaning of what you say is not as important as the way you say it. Roxane and Christian believe that they are in love with each other, but they need Cyrano to express it for them in his miraculously eloquent way. If it was left to Christian, all Roxane would hear is I Love You and it’s just not enough embellishment. Honestly, you can’t satisfy some people.

Roxane and ChristianIn a rewarding development from Anthony Burgess’ long-established translation of the play, in this production the sense of verse is much more modern and less intrusive. Rostand’s original 1897 play is written in verse and Burgess’ adaptation is heavy-handed and, frankly, overwhelming. Evans and Stevenson have created a much subtler format, creating a metrical language for each main character, but it’s only Cyrano’s lines that feel like verse, and they help to make the character stand out above the crowd.

Ragueneau and ChristianThey’ve made some sensible cuts to the original – probably they could have made more, as that first scene set in the theatre still has the ability to irritate with its total irrelevance to the rest of the play. The staging of that scene is bizarrely cumbersome. Not only do we all have to stand for the entrance of Comte de Guiche – I could see him pointedly waiting for me to get on my feet – three members of the audience are then required to vacate their seats, clutching coats, trying not to spill drinks or drop programmes, to reposition themselves at the side of the auditorium whilst the Comte’s party move into their prime position; only for the party to move out again and have the audience members return again – a frustratingly annoying sequence that constantly obstructed my view with people standing, heads bobbing, and all that shenanigans.

CyranoOverall, however, it’s a very satisfying modern reworking of the text; delightfully playful even in its darkest moments. There’s an ingenious updating of the acrostic fight scene between Cyrano and Valvert, although given the importance of words in the play, the occasional flinging around of the F word comes across as simply inappropriate or a cheap laugh at best. Still, cheap laughs are enjoyable.

CyranoCyrano tells a running account that he meets death every so often, bows graciously to him, and then tells him to go away, which he obligingly does – until the end. Simon Evans has characterised this presence of death into a small boy, dressed as Cyrano and with his same magisterial nose, quietly observing him on the sidelines at pivotal moments. He’s a creepy presence, and the device works well, although I couldn’t quite understand why your death would be symbolised by you as a child.

de Guiche and RoxaneGrace Smart and Joshie Harriette have worked together to create a sumptuous set with evocative lighting. When you enter the auditorium, you’re struck by the stagey red curtains and beautifully varnished floorboards, all bathed in darkly golden half-light. Later the curtains give way to present a floral courtyard, a battle scene, and eventually a rather overgrown garden of heavenly delights. In another unexpected joy, Cyrano, very amusingly, has his own house band who follow him wherever he goes. Like an ageing television personality keeping up his fading presence, it’s a brilliant idea, beautifully executed and with great incidental compositions by Alex Baranowski.

in battleMost impressive about the entire production are the performances of all members of the cast, not one of whom puts a foot wrong or mis-stresses a syllable. Even the minor characters have their moments of brilliance, like Sunny Chung’s wordplay between rain and pain when Sister Claire is trying to comfort Roxane, or Caolan McCarthy’s Arnauld shouting out I’m a Christian! or Daniel Norford’s Louis’ confession that his shooting aim is useless. Chris Nayak gives a scene-stealing performance as the outrageously hammy actor Monfleury, and Greer Dale-Foulkes is superb as Abigail, constantly surprising everyone by her immediate attraction to handsome men and her extraordinary sexual history. Christian Patterson is excellent as cook/innkeeper Ragueneau, and there’s great support from Philip Cumbus as Le Bret and David Mildon as Carbon.

ChristianScott Handy is a delightfully vain and aloof de Guiche, strutting arrogantly until real life and the levelling of war bring him down to earth. Levi Brown is very convincing as the fresh-faced but hopelessly inexpressive Christian, using his Brummie accent to perfection. Susannah Fielding gives a magnificent performance as Roxane, girlishly excited, full of daring, petulant when Christian cannot find the words she wants to hear and genuinely moving in the final scene.

RoxaneAdrian Lester is fantastic as Cyrano, always maintaining a presence of nobility and eloquence, nimbly cavorting around in his stage combat scenes (the swordplay is stunning throughout), hugely vulnerable when he cannot open his heart; a truly dynamic and captivating performance of the highest quality. His imitating Christian’s Brummie accent to fool the listening Roxane is one of the funniest things I’ve seen and heard in ages.

CyranoIt’s not a perfect production; the overlong first scene has some messy staging, and the battle scenes are difficult to follow. But they are very much compensated for by the performances, the emotions and the comedy highlights. The RSC are on to a winner here!

 

Production photos by Marc Brenner

4-starsFour They’re Jolly Good Fellows!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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