Review – (the) Woman, Royal and Derngate, Northampton, 14th February 2025

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New Perspectives brought their touring production of Jane Upton’s new play (the) Woman to the Royal and Derngate, Northampton for three preview performances before officially opening in Oxford on 18th February. The inspiration for the play came from Jane Upton’s own experience when, as a new mother, her brother told her that a guy she went out with at school had seen her in the street with her buggy and told him that he expected more of her than just bringing up kids in the same area she grew up.

Lizzy WattsUnderstandably annoyed, she decided to arrange a zoom meeting with the guy; unsure whether it was just to talk it out with him or simply to impress him with what he’d missed. Either way, it didn’t happen – the guy chickened out; end of. From that experience, this semi-autobiographical play started to take shape, centring on her main character’s experience of trying to raise a family at the same time as working as a writer, with many a pitfall en route.

Andre Squire and Lizzy WattsThe structure of the play – that M is trying to write a play for a demanding production team and that this play (i. e. (the) Woman) contains many of the same scenes that the producers are looking for – is clever on paper, but in practice created a play that had Mrs Chrisparkle and me completely baffled. Lighting effects occasionally flash that indicate – I think – that we’ve switched from reality to imagination, from the play that is being written to the play that is being performed; and it’s taken me the best part of four days for it to start to gel in my head.

Jamie-Rose Monk and Lizzy WattsOf course, the last thing anyone wants in respect of a heartfelt and anxiety-ridden play written by a woman from personal experience is to have a 64 year old straight, cis, white male reviewer mansplaining the whole thing. Indeed, the online programme includes a fictional one star review from some pompous and obviously neanderthal bloke called Jonathan Darcy pointing out how awful the play is; thereby batting away in an advance pre-emptive strike any anticipated complaints from men who simply don’t and can’t get it.

Lizzy Watts and Cian BarryHowever, I must be honest; I don’t actually think I do get it. Maybe it’s because I’m not a parent. Maybe it’s because I’m not a woman. Maybe I’m just plain thick; but there is something about this production that sets up a barrier of communication between what we see on stage and what the audience understands. There is no doubt an intentional blurring of the edges between fact and fiction, but rather than illuminating the issues discussed, or even just entertaining the audience, I simply find it frustrating that it isn’t easier to understand. And if you don’t get it, it comes across as a negative piece with unlikeable characters, which makes it all the harder to appreciate.

Andre SquireEarly in the play is a fictional version of the event that inspired Ms Upton to write the play in the first place. This is our introduction to M (she doesn’t have a real name), and in a scene with a lot of profane language from both characters, we see her challenging this scummy lowlife geezer over his misogynist remarks but then agreeing to impromptu “filthy sex” (her words) in the back of his van. Mixed messages, indeed; and that inconsistency of characterisation led me never to truly take to M as someone with whom I could connect as the play progresses. But maybe it isn’t an inconsistency of characterisation. Maybe one part of the story was real, and the other was part of “writing the play”. Frankly, don’t ask me.

Lizzy WattsEither way, it’s a very heavy piece; very intense and dark, full of misery and tragedy. There are trigger warnings (contains strong language, references of a sexual nature and references to baby loss) – take them seriously because this play deals with a lot of disturbing issues. Possibly too many; the difficulties of being both a mother and trying to work, of holding down a relationship when you’re no longer interested in your partner, of being surrounded by men who always know best, of dealing with both physical and mental illness whilst being let down by the NHS – I could go on. At 100 minutes with no interval, there’s very little light and shade, and even though there are some good comedy lines, the overwhelming sense of sadness made it hard for me to laugh at them.

Lizzy Watts and Jamie-Rose MonkThe appearance of a nightmare demon baby with luminous eyes haunting M, which I think is meant as a kind of comedy callback, is both ridiculous and crudely done; and the Brechtian projection of spoken words from each scene seems at first to do little to illuminate our understanding. However, I suspect those words are meant to represent the writer at work, typing out a few relevant lines from each scene. If you don’t realise that at the time, as we didn’t, then they seem meaningless. Again, it’s taken me four days for the penny to drop.

Lizzy WattsThere are some aspects to the story that I found very hard to believe. When M emerges from the back of a van after a shag with the lowlife and discovers the baby is missing – she reacts with all the concern and alarm of a mislaid set of keys; and when she talks to the only guy with a kid at the nursery, she tells him that she assumes they will soon be having sex, much to his embarrassment. People don’t really do that kind of thing. But maybe that’s because they didn’t actually do that kind of thing. Really, the structure does make it difficult to comprehend the play as a whole.

Jamie-Rose Monk and Lizzy WattsThere are some very well written and performed scenes. Lizzy Watts gives a strong and committed performance as M, never off stage, which is a remarkable feat of both memory and endurance. André Squire and Cian Barry make the most of their largely unremarkable male roles, as either ciphers, bullies or plain arrogant; but lifting the production immensely is a superb performance by Jamie-Rose Monk as all the other female roles. Funny, tragic, bossy, she makes you sit up and pay attention whenever she’s on stage.

Andre Squire and Lizzy WattsDeliberately confusing, and certainly it feels too long; more light and shade, and shaving half an hour off it would help. If you get the play and its structure from the start, I can see that it would be much more appealing than we found it; for us, it was just a frustrating watch! After Oxford, the tour continues to Coventry, Birmingham, Nottingham, Worthing and Twickenham.

Production photos by Manuel Harlan

3-starsThree-sy Does It!

Review – Valentine’s Gala with the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, Royal and Derngate, Northampton, 15th February 2025

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The Royal Philharmonic Orchestra’s Valentine’s gift to the people of Northampton this year was a delightful gala programme of romantic music from the 19th and 20th centuries. There was a buzz of excitement in the very full Derngate auditorium as we awaited the arrival of our conductor for this concert, Richard Balcombe, a very smart gentleman who reminded me a little of the late great Bob Holness. Whilst he might not give us a P, I’m sure he could be relied on for an excellent Middle C; just a small joke there for people of my age. He has a relaxed style of conducting – no baton, very inclusive, and giving the audience a few introductions to the various pieces to be performed during the concert.

Opening salvos were fired with the first item of the night, Tchaikovsky’s Sleeping Beauty Waltz, an instantly captivating tune delivered with true gusto by the full orchestra, under its usual leadership of Duncan Riddell. Then we welcomed our guest soloist for the concert, Irene Duval, to play Bruch’s Violin Concerto No 1. Ms Duval delivered those fantastic romantic themes with sensitivity and energy with her Jean-Baptiste Vuillaume violin; no wonder listeners to Classic FM named it as their number one piece in the Classic FM Hall of Fame. The first half of the concert ended with Khachaturian’s Adagio from Spartacus, which of course was the theme to BBCTV’s nautical drama The Onedin Line in the 1970s, even though it was originally a dance from Khachaturian’s 1954 ballet. But when you hear that superbly timed crashing symbol, you’ve no other mental image other than a massive wave breaking on a rocky shore.

After the interval, we started with the second of our three Tchaikovsky pieces, the Polonaise from Eugene Onegin, another rousing and emotional number that opens Act III of the opera. Then came Mascagni’s Intermezzo from Cavalleria Rusticana, gloriously played to release maximum emotion, and I always think, a sense of tragedy. It’s a piece I’ve known since I was a wee lad – the story of how Mascagni wrote the intermezzo so that his two act opera could be entered in a one-act opera competition – which he then won – always made me feel strangely happy for him!

Then came Bizet’s Carmen Suite No 1, six of classical music’s best tunes all wrapped into a fifteen minute musical sensation. Standout moments included the fantastic percussion in the Aragonaise, the beautiful flute playing in the Intermezzo, the mysterious atmosphere of Les dragons d’Alcala and the immense energy and enthusiasm of Les Toréadors. We resolved to go home and dig out the CD instantly! Two modern pieces followed, Maurice Jarre’s Lara’s Theme from Doctor Zhivago, arranged by Christopher Palmer, and the John Dunbar Theme from John Barry’s music for Dances with Wolves. And the evening ended with our final piece of Tchaikovsky, the Romeo and Juliet Fantasy Overture that always leaves you wondering where it’s going until it establishes that rich, unforgettable tune.

A brilliant night out which got a massive reception from the enthusiastic audience. The Royal Philharmonic return to the Royal and Derngate on May 31st for Tchaikovsky’s Sixth Symphony – can’t wait!

Review – Comedy Crate at the Charles Bradlaugh, Northampton, 13th February 2025

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It was with a buzz of expectation that a merry band of a hundred or more souls settled down for another excellent line up of comedians at the Charles Bradlaugh, all arranged by those nice people at the Comedy Crate. Some new names to us, and some familiar; it was always going to be a great night.

Our host for the evening was the jovial Ross McGrane, whom we’d seen once before as the opening act at a Screaming Blue Murder, almost ten years ago. A naturally funny guy, he’s full of electric enthusiasm and is the perfect MC to get us all in the mood. As well as working his way around the crowd, he also shared some excellent comedy nuggets, such as an exploration of the cost of toys, and the childcare advice of his East Ham granny; I too had an East Ham granny, so can appreciate the veracity of her wisdom. He kept the whole thing going at a tremendous pace and was a classy conduit indeed.

First up, and someone we’ve seen many times before, was the fantastic Steve Day, still coming to terms with the potential for offence at the difference between deaf and Deaf; as a deaf comedian, no one can express that better than him. A terrific communicator, he has great material about having a household with grown up kids, his experience co-hosting a Paralympics event with Boris Johnson (shudder) and I still love his line about moving to beautiful Sutton Coldfield for the views. Bold and inventive, he takes comedy where angels fear to tread, and the audience loved him.

Two comedians shared the second spot, and we started with Harry Pettitt, introduced by Ross as Harry Kane for no discernible reason. A fresh-faced Essex lad who looks like butter wouldn’t melt, he has a confident stage presence and an instant connection with the audience. He gave us some very funny routines about the benefits of spending time with posh people and the joys of travelling. I reckon this young chap is going places. After him, came Matt Adlington, another naturally funny guy, who kept the energy up; continuing the Essex theme of the night, he has a smart delivery and a rather kindly presence. He was surprised to know how well we knew our Magpie material, and has a uniquely splendid reason for sporting a beard.

Our headliner was Jordan Gray, someone whom I’ve been fascinated to see ever since her devilish live TV appearance with Ben Elton. Her delivery style verges on the manic, leaping all over the stage, contorting her legs into unusual positions like a wannabe ballerina on speed. Most of her material stems from her life as a transgender woman, and it’s both incredibly emotional and unabashedly hilarious. What primarily comes through is her honesty; she’s outrageous but she’s truthful, unpredictable but, above all, very, very funny. We loved her witty song about being coeliac – as is Mrs Chrisparkle, so we both felt her pain – and she provided the perfect conclusion to a brilliant night of comedy.

Next Comedy Crate at the Bradlaugh is on 13th March – sadly, we can’t make it, but you should!

The Points of View Challenge – Act of Faith – Irwin Shaw

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Irwin Shaw (1913 – 1984)

American playwright, screenwriter, novelist, and short-story author, best known for his novels The Young Lions and Rich Man, Poor Man.

Act of Faith was written in 1946, and first published in The New Yorker on February 2nd in the same year. It was later included in the short story compilation Act of Faith and Other Stories also in 1946.

Unfortunately I have not been able to find a free copy to read online.

This is the sixth of eight stories in the volume Points of View to be given the style classification by Moffett and McElheny of Biography, or Anonymous Narration – Single Character Point of View. Their introduction continues: “What the stories have in common is the presentation of the inner life of a single character rather than of several or of none.”

Spoiler alert – if you haven’t read the story yet and want to before you read the summary of it below, stop now!

 

Act of Faith

The Second World War is over, but American soldiers are still stationed in Europe. Olson, Welch and Seeger survived Omaha Beach and are now considering their post-war futures. They’re not far from Paris and who can resist visiting the French capital? But none of them has been paid for three months. What can you do in Paris without money? Olson and Welch decide to ask their commanding officer, Captain Taney for a loan, but they delegate Seeger to do the negotiations. Why not? He can only say no.

In fact Taney says yes but can only muster up 200 francs – the equivalent of four dollars. That’s not going to get them very far. But Welch remembers that Seeger has a Lüger, taken from the body of a German he killed. He can get sixty-five dollars for that. That would certainly buy them a night on the town.

Seeger, meanwhile, has received a letter from home. In it, his father pours his heart out to his son about how life is now in America. Seeger’s brother Leonard was killed in action, and his brother Jacob is home but suffering badly with what we now know to be PTSD. Even harder to bear is the fact that the antisemitism rife in Europe has reached the States and the family – who are Jewish – realise that life is no longer the safe comfortable existence they always knew. Even their friends are turning against them.

Seeger doesn’t know what to think. Is all this sacrifice of war in vain? Would it not have been better if, like Leonard, he hadn’t survived the war so that he would not have to see the suffering of his parents? At that point Olson and Welch tell him that they know his Lüger is very important to him and ask him not to part with it if he isn’t completely sure. There are other ways of spending time in Paris. Seeger asks them directly, “what do you guys think of the Jews?” To which they reply that they have no idea what he means and that they’ve never heard of the Jews, and maybe he should ask them an easier question. Filled with hope and the confidence to tackle the prejudice at home head-on, Seeger agrees to sell the Lüger: “What could I use it for in America?”

A fascinating short story, notable for the fact that the action takes place in one continent but the substance of what it’s all about takes place in another. On one hand, it reveals the evil of antisemitism – indeed all prejudice – as it quietly grows all around you, and if you do nothing to prevent its growth, you’re part of the problem. It also shows that a simple expression of kindness and positivity may be all that’s needed to make the future optimistic; Olson and Welch’s flat-out refusal to participate in any antisemitic comments make Seeger feel safe and supported.

Shaw really gets to the heart of his characters in this story; you can sense the likeable laddishness of Olson, the earnest decency of Seeger and the keen practicality of Welch. Although they are of different levels of superiority, there’s no division between them. Shaw’s writing even invites us in to understand the characterisations of the minor characters, such as Taney speaking “like a man who has never quite got the hang of army regulations”, or describing Seeger’s father’s letter as “on the stiff white stationery with the University letterhead in polite engraving at the top of each page”.

The most powerful aspect of this story is the mental journey that Seeger undertakes, over a very short space of time, from being a confident, skilful soldier, to wading through a sea of self-doubt and second-hand grief, and then going back to a positive frame of mind again. A very satisfying and also thought-provoking piece.

The next story in the anthology is the seventh to be classified by Moffett and McElheny as Biography, or Anonymous Narration – Single Character Point of View, The Five-Forty-Eight by John Cheever.

Review – Les Miserables, Sondheim Theatre, London, 6th February 2025

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When there are countless new productions coming up every week worthy of one’s theatre ticket budget, it might seem strange to go back to a few old favourites once in a while, just to check up on them and see how they’re getting on, like an elderly relative who’s beginning to lose the ability to look after themselves properly. Thus we decided to pay a visit to Les Miserables at the Queens’, I mean Sondheim, Theatre, to see if, forty years on, it’s still in rude health.

It’s misleading to think of it as forty years, as this is the “new” version of the show, directed by Laurence Connor and James Powell, which Mrs Chrisparkle and I were lucky to catch in swanky New York ten years ago. That performance blew our minds, having seen the original version back in 1986 and, frankly, not liking it much; I think you need to have experienced a few hardships in life to truly appreciate Les Mis. Bizarrely, we also saw it at the Leicester Curve in 2018, in a production that completely escapes my memory.onnor and Powell zipped the original up and smartened it out, creating a more vivid show; even though it still lasts just short of three hours, it’s incredibly pacey. When Marius tosses a stone at Cosette’s window she bursts forward to see him instantly, even before gravity has had time for the stone to hit the floor. There’s no hanging about here.

One might not expect a Thursday matinee in February to be full, but so packed was the Sondheim Theatre that there was hardly room for an underfed Parisien street urchin to sneak in. Steward Morley’s fantastic orchestra give the performance of their lives as they emote Claude-Michel Schönberg’s luscious score;crammed full of leitmotifs, and not a note wasted. Matt Kinley’s superb set spills out into the boxes at the side of the stage, recreating the terror of the prisoner labour ship, the grimness of the factories, the grandeur of Valjean’s house and the makeshift mess that represents the barricades. I was struck – perhaps for the first time – by how effective it is, to regularly contrast an elaborate set, such as the ship, with the simplicity of just a table with two candles, such as represents the Bishop of Digne’s humble home.

I know of no other show that can produce audience sobs out of thin air with the ease that Les Mis does. Spoiler alert, soz (but where have you been for the last forty years?) the first tremors of emotion come with Fantine on her death bed, and of course there’s always a gulp at Eponine’s On My Own. But it’s Bring Him Home that opens the floodgates, with alikely trigger at Empty Chairs at Empty Tables, and flat out wailing when the ghosts of Fantine and Eponine come to welcome the dying Valjean out of this world and into a better place. Paule Constable’s stunning lighting design and Finn Ross’ video projections also add to many of these moments, notably Javert tumbling to his death in the Seine, and that amazing second or two when Gavroche’s lifeless body is captured in a crosshair of bright light; they truly take your breath away.

Changes of cast occur from season to season, and the current cast is full of star turns. Ian McIntosh, whom I’ve only ever seen before giving brilliant supporting performances in iffy touring musical productions, portrays a Valjean of valour, nobility and the most exquisitely tender voice. It’s not just the sentiment of Bring Him Home that makes us go wobbly at the knees, it’s that purity and clarity with which he delivers those most immaculate of notes.His nemesis, Javert, is played by Stewart Clarke, whose powerful voice is put to great use, suggesting the character’s bullying and intimidating nature. I’ve seen Mr Clarke many times before on stage and he always nails those imposing, ruthless roles; but I wished for a little more light and shade in his portrayal of Javert. His face is set to one expression throughout – grimace – which only begins to soften in his final moments. You never get the sense that this Javert questions his motives or beliefs for one instant. I know; call me picky.

The three main female roles are all superbly performed. Lucie Jones’ Fantine is a terrific portrayal of decency destroyed by circumstances, giving us a delicate and almost intimate performance of the classic I Dreamed A Dream. Annabelle Aquino plays Cosette with a brightness of spirit and a heart of gold; andAmena El-Kindy pulls out all the stops as her Eponine delivers a soaring On My Own, making the best of observing Marius’ devotion to Cosette on the sidelines, just so that she can be in his company.

Jacob Dachtler’s unswervingly brave and noble Marius is a perfect match for Cosette; he nicely brings out the emotional content in his songs extremely well and is very believable in the role. Robson Broad’s Enjolras is a triumph of heroism, with an amazing stage presence and a wonderful voice which helps those powerful but brief songs, Red/Black and Do You Hear The People Sing, linger on in our minds long after curtain down.

But the secret ingredient of this current production is the inspired casting of Luke Kempner and Claire Machin as the Thénardiers. Crowd pleasers from the start, their physical comedy is outstanding, and their comic bickering is credible rather than just being pure pantomime.Along with the rest of the ensemble, their on stage activity for Master of the House is immaculately timed with hilarious shenanigans complementing the music perfectly. The audience adores them.

I genuinely had no idea I was going to enjoy this show again as much as I did. If you’ve never seen it, what are you waiting for? And if you have, you’ll be delighted to know it’s as great as ever.

 

 

Five Alive, Let Theatre Thrive!

Review – Dial M for Mayhem, Royal and Derngate, Northampton, 3rd February 2025

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It was with no little excitement that I realised this touring production comes from the Middle Ground Theatre Company, an intrepid outfit that brought a couple of excellent productions to the Wycombe Swan in the mid-1990s and whom I always enjoyed seeing. Small, but beautifully formed, as they say; Middle Ground would tour where angels fear to tread, including the Scottish Highlands and Islands, bringing their productions to remote village halls for one night only.

Selfie timeAnd that is the rather charming and potentially hilarious inspiration for Margaret May Hobbs’ new play Dial M for Mayhem, the story of a bumbling company performing Dial M for Murder for one night at the Loch Shindig Village Hall (no need to look it up; you won’t find it on any map). Pouring rain, a clapped-out van, food poisoning, an accident-prone actor, an escaped pet rat, electricity via a 50p meter – I probably don’t need to go on. But will the show?

WD40 for the lockMichael Lunney’s set perfectly encapsulates that often seen, rather basic, flimsy touring set whilst still serving the purpose of the play extremely well, allowing an Act Two backstage view whilst still being able to see some of what’s going on “on stage”. The cast work their socks off, full of commitment and with plenty of physical comedy. There are some extremely funny scenes which genuinely make you laugh out loud – and there’s no doubt that the show received a good reception. The biggest laugh from a Northamptonshire audience came from the revelation that one of the Scots characters doesn’t come from Loch Shindig – but Corby.

Dial M for MSo is this the new Noises Off? Far from it, I’m afraid. For every funny moment there are several tumbleweed sequences where everything just treads water. The patchy writing extends to the structure of the play itself; only the third scene (of four) gives you the backstage angle with all its unique comedy potential, and much of that sadly falls flat. This leads on to a final scene which partially resolves a few issues – even though you didn’t realise they were issues in the first place. Two members of the team have a brief romantic moment without ever having seen a flicker between them in the first three scenes. You suspect that another character has some unspecified health issues that just brings a cloud to the final few minutes.

Samantha MiddletonMargaret May Hobbs doesn’t sign off her scenes with any significant line or cliffhanger moment to take us to the next scene, resulting in them all finishing hanging in the air, with the audience wondering is that it? At least half the characters are stereotypes with precious little depth to them; the AA man is like a Scouse Eric Morecambe and there’s a stock Highlander who would make the characters in Hamish Macbeth blush with embarrassment. There’s also no sense of urgency or panic in the last minute rehearsals for the performance; Sean the director and Andrew the stage manager allow themselves to be merrily distracted from getting on with the job without the remotest concern. And when we see Dial M for Murder in full flow from backstage, there’s no sense of it progressing whilst we’re watching the backstage catastrophes; the Loch Shindig audience may be as generous as you like but even they can’t be happy with several minutes of nothing happening on stage whilst everyone hunts down a rat.

RupertMichael Lunney’s cast make the most of their roles; Alasdair Baker as Rupert mines a genuine fallen star out of the stereotype elderly luvvie, and I enjoyed Estrid Barton’s Ellen frantically trying to hold the sound cues together whilst simultaneously throwing up in a bucket. But, sadly, a weak script means you come away from the show with a sense of opportunities wasted rather than taken. After its week in Northampton, the tour continues to Darlington, Dundee, Ipswich and Hereford.

Production photos by Marcus Fernando for Middle Ground Theatre Company Ltd

Two Disappointing For More!

Review – A Man For All Seasons, Festival Theatre, Chichester, 31st January 2025

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Our fascination with all things Henry VIII, Norfolk, Cromwell, More, Cranmer et al is seemingly unending. The Wolf Hall trilogy is not only a bestseller but has spawned a successful TV series and countless dining table conversations. But 65 years ago Robert Bolt’s A Man For All Seasons appeared on stage for the first time, enjoying long runs in the West End and on Broadway, and with star-studded film versions in both 1966 and 1988. And this continued fascination was certainly reflected by the lack of empty seats in Chichester’s Festival Theatre on Friday night, as well as the audience’s riveted attention being held throughout with pin-drop silence.

A Man For All Seasons approaches the Henry VIII – Catherine of Aragon divorce and resultant split with the Catholic Church from the angle of Sir Thomas More, the Lord Chancellor who refused to consent to the divorce; and whilst he never actively proclaimed his disapproval, that was never going to be enough to satisfy the King. More’s morals and principles set him on an impossible course, leading to his being found guilty of high treason and his ultimate execution.

This current touring production by the Theatre Royal Bath is strong, simple, clear and gimmick-free, directed with unobtrusive sensitivity by Jonathan Church. Simon Higlett’s traditional costumes and set lend it an air of gravitas and authority, and a high quality cast offer a masterclass in acting. One also appreciates what a tremendous wordsmith Robert Bolt is, with beautifully shaped and constructed sentences and scenes, wonderful characterisations, and a great feel for oncoming disaster. There’s no denying it – the first act is both dense and intense, requiring deep concentration from the audience as we start to see life closing in on More; and the second act gains incredible momentum as chit-chat becomes an unofficial inquiry, and then legal hearings and an eventual trial in court and dispensation of justice (such as it is.) You can always rely on a courtroom scene on stage to be thrilling!

Bolt’s structural brainwave with this play was to have the Common Man as a unifying thread throughout the whole story. Someone who can relate directly to the audience, commenting on the action and characters, who can assume a variety of minor but vital roles as the plot progresses; the Common Man is both one of us in the stalls and one of them on stage. Casting Gary Wilmot in this role is a masterstroke as he is both a genius in stagecraft but also truly has the common touch, and it comes as no surprise that he gives a tremendous performance.

Another fine actor, Edward Bennett, takes to the role of Thomas Cromwell like a duck to water, blending the character’s fastidious attention to detail with a ruthless sadism. He clearly relishes the task of taking down an enemy; but he also reveals that, with the unpredictability of the king, he has no choice but to win at all costs, otherwise no doubt his head will be for the chop too. Calum Finlay is excellent as Richard Rich, portraying the character’s journey from humble start to eventual glory by means of backstabbing and betrayal; Bolt paints him as ruthlessly ambitious at all costs, and Mr Finlay convinces us perfectly.

There’s excellent support from Abigail Cruttenden as More’s wife Alice, unable to understand why he adheres to his collision course to ruination, and from Annie Kingsnorth as his relentlessly positive daughter Margaret. Orlando James has a splendid cameo as Henry VIII, almost unhinged with his own power, and Asif Khan is a delightfully meddlesome and untrustworthy Ambassador Chapuys; but everyone turns in a great performance and there is not one weak or ineffectual scene.

Heading the cast is Martin Shaw as Thomas More, recently turned 80 years but still a powerhouse on stage, with an apparently effortless yet physically demanding performance capturing the character’s unswerving constancy and honest decency.He gives us an impeccable portrayal of a stiff upper lip, only just letting the emotions show in the final moments when he can hold them back no longer.

After its week in Chichester, the tour continues to Malvern, Cheltenham, Oxford, Guildford, Canterbury and Richmond. A powerful play given a fittingly powerful performance.

 

4-starsFour They’re Jolly Good Fellows!

Review – Last Rites, Royal and Derngate, Northampton, 28th January 2025

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Ad Infinitum’s Last Rites comes to Northampton as part of its UK tour and, as a performance piece, defies labelling into any category, but I’ll have a try. It’s a play with three characters, all performed by deaf actor Ramesh Meyyappan, utilising his superb physical movement and mime skills, to tell a story without speech.

Arjun returns to India from the UK with his small son Krishna, as his father has died. Even though he isn’t religious and has never been taught the intricacies of the post-death Hindu rituals, it falls to him as the oldest son to prepare his father’s body for cremation. And as he does so, he reflects on his childhood and growing up, and his relationship with his father. We see him offering his father unwanted help in the kitchen, making his first visit to the Hindu Temple, and changing his education to a school for the deaf. Following teenage disagreements, and a disastrous rejection of an arranged marriage, Arjun makes his ultimate escape from his father’s influence by emigrating to the UK.

There is no scenery to speak of, just a mattress on the floor, a bowl of water, a small pot of ash and some clothes for the dead. Specifically designed for both deaf and hearing audiences, the production uses a combination of Mr Meyyappan’s sign language and mime to tell the story, aided by text appearing on an eloquent video projection – a combination of words and imagery that compliment the sign language perfectly. Akintayo Akinbode’s beautiful sound composition has many motifs, including some delicately playful music representing Krishna, and Ali Hunter’s lighting design helps us understand the various changes of time and location.

It’s a very thoughtful and emotional piece that poses some fascinating questions about father/son relationships. Arjun shows both love and fury towards his dead father, and it’s clear that he has learned from his experiences how better to bring up his own son. It celebrates deaf culture and identity, and there’s a heartfelt explosion at the end when Arjun despises his father for his refusal to learn sign language; so much went wrong in their relationship simply due to a lack of communication and an absence of valuable father/son conversations.

It tells the story very clearly; however, even at around 70 minutes, it feels a little long. There is a lot of repetition of handwashing; this emphasises the ritual, but nevertheless it is a little tiring to watch the same thing again and again. For the most part Last Rites runs at a slowish pace and could do with some occasional boosts of energy for variety. But it’s performed with real commitment and integrity, and Mr Meyyappan delivers a masterclass in his non-verbal performance skills and style. After its two nights in Northampton, the show moves on to Bedales, Newbury, Scarborough, Ipswich and Salford, plus a week in July at the Bristol Old Vic.

3-starsThree-sy Does It!

Review – Screaming Blue Murder, Royal and Derngate, Northampton, 25th January 2025

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Having been banished from the stages of the Royal and Derngate more effectively than a bunch of Faithfuls picking on themselves, how rewarding it is to see Screaming Blue Murder back in the hallowed portals of the Royal Theatre after such a long time, with a fittingly large and buzzing audience to welcome it. When regular host Dan Evans bounded on stage to galvanise us all into attention, a little voice in the back of my head sang Hello Danny, well hello Danny, it’s so nice to have you back where you belong. Please don’t ever send Screaming Blue Murder back to the dreaded Screen 2. It makes no sense!

Dan was on unsurprisingly blistering form as he (and we) got to know Tommy, the unenthusiastic Royal Mail recruiter, a triumvirate of front row Petes, an uninhibited Nana celebrating her 50th birthday, and sensible Kelsey with her hench Physical Trainer boyfriend. If the Royal has one fault, on a cold winter night the wind can whip off that stage into the audience, but Dan was able to keep us warmer than our massed ranks of gilets and duffel coats.

First up, and someone we’ve seen many times before, was the pride of Wolverhampton, Susan Murray. With oodles of attack, she regaled us with tales of her Glaswegian parents, the secrets of the menopause, and fully justified disdain of President Trump (2.0). Northampton audiences rarely go for political comedy in a big way, and Saturday’s crowd was no different. Nevertheless, she has a remarkable ability to generate big energy, and all her observations are on point and hilarious. An excellent start to the evening.

Next, and new to us, came Bennett Kavanagh, a self-confessed middle-class single gentleman, with an electronic keyboard slung over his shoulder like an outsized manbag. Beautifully self-deprecating, he uses the instrument not only for some comedy songs, but also for its jingle potential. I loved his routine about lift music, the perils of not having Spotify Premium, and how you can use the Windows chords in awkward moments. Terrific timing, an intriguingly funny stage persona, and with some brilliant material, he had us howling throughout.

Our headliner was Joey Page, who has a mischievous way of making sure we know his socials are JoeyPageComedy, and who trades on his slightly unusual physical presence for maximum comic effect. He has great insight into the laughter potential of the British class system, and his idea of being Upper Working Class is an eye-opener. He has the measure of a Northampton audience, teasing us with our Cultural Quarter, and guessing that no one comes here unless you’re born here; it’s true, the game’s up. Admirably verbally dextrous, he delivers his very clever and inventive material that makes you think as well as makes you laugh, and he went down a storm.

Best Screaming Blue Murder for a very long time. The show returns to the Royal (hurrah!) on 27th February. Book now for a great night out!

Review – Summer 1954, Festival Theatre, Chichester, 23rd January 2025

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In the summer of 1954, Terence Rattigan was the darling of British theatre. The year before, his successful The Deep Blue Sea finished its run at the Duchess Theatre, and The Sleeping Prince opened at the Phoenix. His new production, two one-act plays by the name of Separate Tables would open at the St James’ Theatre in September. He’d ride the crest of this wave for a little longer until John Osborne’s Look Back in Anger reset the theatre scene in 1956, and Rattigan would be consigned to the drawer marked Fuddy-Duddy for many years.

But, as James Dacre’s beautifully staged and paced Summer 1954 reveals, Rattigan wrote plays of extraordinary quality. There’s never an unnecessary line or an incidental character; everything is neatly planned and tightly delivered. Summer 1954 unites one of the Separate Tables, Table Number Seven – where hotel resident Major Pollock falls into disgrace because of his indecent behaviour – with his hard-hitting 1948 one act play, The Browning Version, relating what happens on the last day of Greek master Andrew Crocker-Harris’ tenure at a public school.

Combining these two one-act plays gives a modern audience a chance to see Rattigan in the raw; at once showing both the comedy and tragedy of cruelty, isolation, and a great deal more besides. It also uses Rattigan’s original version of Major Pollock’s indecent transgression of the law, rather than the version that reached the stage of the St James’ – and indeed remained as part of Separate Tables for decades after. There’s no need to worry about what the Lord Chamberlain might disagree with today, after all.

It’s a bold move by James Dacre as the plays arguably work better as part of their original line-ups; especially Table Number Seven which is the second part of Separate Tables and develops some of the characters that we meet in the first part, Table by the Window. The Browning Version was originally staged as the first part of Playbill, which ended with the hilarious Harlequinade, a lighthearted farce which massages away all the sting of the first play. Ending Summer 1954 with The Browning Version sends the audience home with an uncomfortable range of challenges, rather than with a comedy riot.

However, Rattigan’s writing is so deliciously controlled, and creates some truly repressed and displaced characters, hiding away their emotions and realities until their internal pressure cookers explode. You might be expecting some light drawing-room comedy, but this double bill packs a punch. And Dacre’s simple and unobtrusive direction allows the characters and language to come to the fore, telling their quiet, domestic, but riveting stories to the extent that you could hear a pin drop in the packed rows of Chichester’s Festival Theatre.

The cast of Table Number Seven is led by Sian Phillips, giving us a wonderful portrayal of the demanding, withering and manipulative Mrs Railton-Bell. Using masterful verbal tones and facial expressions, she gives a powerful performance of someone who revels in someone else’s misfortune, dominates her mousey daughter, and tries to pay out on anyone who Isn’t Like Her. The object of her ire is Nathaniel Parker’s Major Pollock, breezily spinning his lies and attempting to cover up his mistakes because he doesn’t like who he is. There are also some excellent supporting performances, notably from Richenda Carey as the unpredictable racing punter Miss Meacham, and a lovely study in innate kindness from Lolita Chakrabarti as Miss Cooper.

Some cast members return after the interval for The Browning Version, including impeccable performances by Nathaniel Parker as the out-of-touch Andrew Crocker-Harris (The Crock) and Lolita Chakrabarti as his unfulfilled but cruel wife Millie. Jeremy Neumark Jonesgives an excellent performance as science teacher and Millie’s lover Frank Hunter, and Bertie Hawes shows great promise in his professional stage debut as Taplow.

It would be wrong to say it was perfect throughout; there were some missed or fumbled lines from a few of the actors in Table Number Seven, but, as Browning himself said, I want the heart to scold. Two superb examples of mid-20th century drama at its best. After its run in Chichester, the production tours to Richmond, Cheltenham and Oxford.

 

4-starsFour They’re Jolly Good Fellows!