Review – Travels with my Aunt, Minerva Theatre Chichester, 7th May 2016

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A spot of late Spring sunshine was just the perfect welcome as we arrived in Chichester for the first of this year’s two theatrical weekends Sussex-style. We were joined, in their inaugural visit to the Chichester Festival Theatre, by Mrs Chrisparkle’s aunt and uncle, Professor and Mrs Plum. Naturally, we started with a swish lunch in the Minerva Brasserie – one simply just has to, you know. I’m delighted to say that both the brasserie and the bar and grill upstairs have had something of a facelift since we last visited and they both look fantastico.

Travels with my Aunt – which was our matinee treat – is of course originally a novel by Graham Greene, but we have seen a wonderful play adaptation at the Royal and Derngate back in 2010, and now there’s this new version, reincarnated as a musical, with book by Ron Cowen and Daniel Lipman, music by George Stiles and lyrics by Anthony Drewe. The story consists of a huge amount of daftness – this is it in a nutshell: Henry Pulling is an old-before-his-time gentleman who has devoted his life to growing dahlias. Aunt Augusta is his septuagenarian aunt who acts half her age, was a prostitute in her youth and even today runs all around the world doing shady deals. She has a much younger lover – Wordsworth – from Sierra Leone, but is also selling everything to pay off the ransom for the true love of her life, Mr Visconti; and this is where she enlists Henry’s help. Henry travels with her, round Europe and South America, on the search for this mysterious man, unwillingly encountering adventures on the way. They find the human dynamo that is Visconti; and all this excitement eventually rubs off on Henry, who, much to his surprise, finds out that survival by illegal import/export trade based in Paraguay has more flair to it as a lifestyle than daily dahlia-tending.

As you take your seats, Colin Falconer’s set beautifully recreates a 1969 railway station, complete with swanky lit destination signs just like they used to have at Baker St station (maybe they still do?), dingy waiting room, comfortless wooden benches, a ticket collector’s booth, and many other late 60s railway reminders. With a little movement and relighting, the waiting room turns into many other indoor scenes such as Augusta’s flat, a pub, and a compartment on the Orient Express. The costumes are perfect for that 1969 vibe, with Tooley wonderfully decked out as a pot-smoking hippie, the girls in the ensemble as bright blue stewardesses straight out of Boeing Boeing, and Wordsworth in relaxed splendour in the style of a Rhythm of Life dancer from Sweet Charity.

The show opens with a couple of terrific scenes: Henry, on the point of being executed, comes out of character and addresses the audience in a matter of fact style, and, with his delightfully upper crust accent, instantly creates a surreal atmosphere of quirky comedy. We then see the railway station transformed into a chapel for Henry’s mother’s funeral, which is where we meet Aunt Agatha, who sings a hilariously disrespectful song to the effect that life’s too short to waste time saying goodbye to the dead. It’s a really positive start to the show. But then something rather odd happens for the next quarter of an hour or so. It all seemed to lose energy, it got bogged down in exposition, and it felt a bit twee. I had thought that, as it is a rather bizarre story, one might expect the artificiality of the musical genre to work well with it. But it appeared that it was just going to become bland.

Fortunately, I was wrong! Before long there is a scene where the ensemble are sweetly dancing to a jolly song with cutesy lyrics but in the middle of the stage sits Aunt Augusta, the amount of her ransom money found wanting, getting physically assaulted by the scum of a lowlife who’s demanding the cash. That really uncomfortable juxtaposition between the musical matinee sweetness and the physical violence really pulled me up short. Perhaps this isn’t going to be as Women’s Institute-like as it first appeared? Indeed it isn’t. Once it really gets going, the show uses the musical format to excellent purpose, playing up the surreal and frequently questionable nature of the subject matter, like sugar sorbet icing on bitter aloes. The tunes are fun, the lyrics witty, and the performances are extremely good.

Aunt Augusta is played by the brilliantly no-nonsense Patricia Hodge, and you couldn’t find a more suitable pair of hands to play this unpredictable and exuberant character. She shows that she still has an excellent singing voice, great comic timing, and a terrific aura of dignity about her. In many ways she is perfect casting, as Augusta is meant to be in her 70s but acting much younger; well Miss Hodge isn’t quite in her 70s yet but certainly behaves like a flirtatious girl, which is just what you want from the character. A most enjoyable performance.

But at the heart of this production is the fantastic portrayal of Henry by Steven Pacey, an actor who never fails to delight. We’ve seen him as an avuncular Sir Politic Would-be in Volpone, a hilarious Peter in Relative Values (opposite Patricia Hodge) and a wonderfully gruff Sir Francis in the Menier’s Charley’s Aunt. But I think his Henry is his crowning glory. You really get the sense of Henry’s journey from gardener to guerrilla (well, not quite that bad maybe), his changing relationship with Augusta, his awakening of the romantic side of life when he meets Tooley, and his natural heroic decency. He brings out all the comedy of the role without ever overplaying his hand, and you really feel that you know Henry deep down as a person. It’s a brilliant performance.

There are some very good supporting performances too: Hugh Maynard’s Wordsworth is a larger-than-life 60s retro character, almost a parody of himself as a groovy lurve machine; he wouldn’t have been out of place in an Austin Powers movie. Although we felt the characterisation belonged almost too much to a pre-political correctness age, his enormous sense of fun at the centre of the song and dance routines was irresistible. Haley Flaherty is a rather sweet and impressionable Tooley, surprising herself by her feelings for the older man; and Jack Chissick enjoys himself hugely in his dual roles as the vicious Colonel Hakim and the humorously ineffectual Mr Visconti. The ensemble give us loads of energy with their dance sequences and character vignettes, and the whole vibe is one where the cast come together to tell us a story of war criminals, art theft, violence and adultery, but keeping it light at the same time. We all enjoyed it enormously. It runs at the Minerva until 4th June. As Miss Hodge might say under other circumstances – such fun!

P. S. As a very minor aside, I’ve never seen such unconvincing onstage smoking. Nothing was ever lit, no little glow of heat ever appeared at the end of a cigarette, no smoke ever emerged. It may be healthier that way, but it did look a little silly!

The Agatha Christie Challenge – The Mystery of the Blue Train (1928)

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STOP PRESS: The Agatha Christie Challenge is now available as a book in two revised volumes – details at the end of this blog post!

In which we meet Katherine Grey, the recent recipient of a fine inheritance, who seeks a change from her modest life in St Mary Mead by taking the Blue Train to stay with well-to-do cousins in France; but en route becomes entangled with a plot to steal rubies and murder an heiress. Fortunately, M. Hercule Poirot is also travelling on the train and is called in by the deceased’s father to identify who killed his daughter. And, lo and behold, with a little assistance from Miss Grey, he does! Don’t worry, if you haven’t read the book yet you can read this blog post and still not find out whodunit.

According to her autobiography, this is the book of which Christie was least proud. She hated writing it, she said “she could not see the scene in my mind’s eye, and the people would not come alive.” She said each time she re-read it, she found it “commonplace, full of clichés and with an uninteresting plot”. No doubt a contributory factor was the breakdown of her marriage to Archie Christie, and her famous ten-day disappearance which had recently taken place. She needed to write to pay the bills, so from that point of view the book was a great success, as it sold just as well as any of her other books. That’s why it stood out in Christie’s mind as not only her worst book, but also the book that marked her transition from amateur to professional. If she could write on demand, without particularly caring about her characters or her plot, then surely she could think of herself as a professional writer, able to tackle any task that her career (or bank manager) required of her.

The plot was taken from one of Christie’s own short stories that had been written in 1923 under the title The Plymouth Express, but was not to be actually published in the UK until the appearance of Poirot’s Early Cases, in 1974; so it will be some time before I read and write about that one! Katherine Grey is a one-off character, but her home village of St Mary Mead would of course become very significant as the home of Miss Marple – who had yet to appear in Christie’s works. There are several other links to other Christie books. This is the first appearance of Mr Goby, the private detective who specialises in having people followed; he works for Mr Van Aldin in this book but will provide Poirot with direct detailed information on suspects in After the Funeral and Third Girl. Once again we meet Mr Aarons, who gave Poirot valuable advice regarding showbiz performers in The Murder on the Links and The Big Four; and this is also the first appearance of Poirot’s manservant George, to whom he constantly refers as Georges, although he’s definitely a George.

The conductor on board the Blue Train is named Pierre Michel; that is also the name of the train conductor in Murder on the Orient Express, Christie’s 1934 classic. Sadly, I don’t think they’re the same people. Poirot makes no sign of recognition when he interviews Michel on the Orient Express – and with Poirot’s brain he would have certainly remembered him. In the latter book Michel is said to have worked for the Compagnie Internationale des Wagons-Lits for fifteen years; the real Train Bleu was also part of that same company. Coincidence? Or did Christie think all train conductors were called Pierre Michel? After all, it seems that she thought all French houses were called the Villa Marguerite. That’s where Lady Tamplin lives in this book, and it was also the name of the residence of the Daubreuils in The Murder on the Links.

So is Christie still developing the character of Poirot, or is he now the finished article? More than ever, Poirot is as vain, pompous and big-headed as can be. Poirot’s simple answer to Derek Kettering’s question “who are you?” is “My name is Hercule Poirot […] and I am probably the greatest detective in the world.” Katherine and Lenox can’t keep a straight face at Poirot’s outrageously high self-esteem: “You have seen the gentle, the calm Hercule Poirot; but there is another Hercule Poirot. I go now to bully, to threaten, to strike terror into the hearts of those who listen to me.” And he’s not wrong. His interrogation of Hipolyte and Marie, the Comte’s servants, is a shouting, bullying, fist-waving, table thumping affair that lacks all the usual style and finesse that we have come to expect from him. “You tell your lies and you think nobody knows. But there are two people who know. Yes – two people. One is le bon Dieu […] and the other is Hercule Poirot.” In previous books, regular police inspectors have questioned Poirot’s sanity, tapping their foreheads, implying the old boy’s losing his marbles, whilst of course he has not. In this book he is able to answer that question directly. ““Are you mad, Monsieur Poirot?” It was Van Aldin who spoke. “No,” said Poirot, “I am not mad. I am eccentric, perhaps – at least certain people say so; but regards my profession, I am very much, as one says, ‘all there’.””

There’s no Captain Hastings in this book for Poirot to bounce ideas off; instead Katherine Grey serves that purpose, but only on a couple of occasions. Apart from her, Poirot has only M. Caux of the Sûreté (they met once, long ago) as a helpful investigative partner. No Hastings also means no narrator as such; this might have been a contributory factor in why Christie found the book such a bind to write. Katherine is a kind and thoughtful character; independent, generous and human; but Christie doesn’t really give enough of her for us really to attach ourselves to her. Maybe if she’d written this book at a more confident and experienced time in her career, she’d have turned out to be a much more rewarding character. As it is, she is identified by Miss Viner as: “there you are, as sensible as ever you were, with a pair of good Balbriggan stockings on and your sensible shoes” – good quality stockings having been manufactured in Balbriggan, in the old County Dublin, at that time. So, a redoubtable stalwart, but not much more.

There aren’t many locations specified in this book, but one that may require a little explanation is Down Street tube, which is where Van Aldin alights when he goes to visit his daughter Ruth. It was located between Green Park station and Hyde Park Corner station and was closed in 1932. The Isles d’Or, which the Comte de la Roche suggests is a good spot for a liaison with Ruth, do indeed exist; they are a secluded group of four islands off the coast of France by Hyères, comprising of national park and nudist beach. But don’t believe the Comte was suggesting that kind of hanky-panky; the naturist colony there was started in 1931, three years after the book was published. The Negresco, where Derek Kettering chooses to lunch, is a swish and swanky hotel in Nice, that opened in 1913 and is still going strong.

Some other references that propelled me into research mode: Has there ever been an opera based on Peer Gynt? It’s a relevant question, as Mirelle discusses Claud Ambrose’s opera of Ibsen’s play because she is dancing the role of Anitra. Well, Claud Ambrose is a figment of Christie’s imagination, but yes, there have been two operatic Peer Gynts. The first, back in 1938, written by German composer Werner Egk; the second, very recently (2014) by Juri Reinvere. Of course, both were written after The Mystery of the Blue Train. Talking of which, when the train arrives at Lyons, Christie describes the “long plaintive hiss of the Westinghouse brake”. I’m no engineer, so I had to look this up. But even today, modern trains rely upon a fail-safe air brake system that is based upon a design patented by George Westinghouse on March 5, 1868. So he’s had a long-lasting influence.

Lady Tamplin says of Katherine, “her clothes are all right. That grey thing is the same model that Gladys Cooper wore in Palm Trees in Egypt. Gladys Cooper was, of course, a renowned stage and screen actress but she never appeared in a film entitled “Palm Trees in Egypt” – nor do I think anyone else ever did. In the same conversation, Lady Tamplin resumes: “She has been a companion, I tell you. Companions don’t play tennis – or golf. They might possibly play golf-croquet, but I have always understood that they wind wool and wash dogs most of the day.” So Lady T doesn’t have much respect for the position of Companion. But what is this “golf-croquet”? I’ve heard of golf, I’ve heard of croquet, but never come across this hybrid. Actually it is a form of croquet where, as soon as someone has driven their ball through a hoop, all other players then play for the next hoop. Sounds a bit faster than regular croquet.

Major Knighton reveals that he was staying at a house in Yorkshire when Lady Clanravon’s jewels were stolen. He suggested calling in Poirot to solve it, but they didn’t, and the jewels were never recovered. I can confirm that there is/was no such person as Lady Clanravon (a Christie invention) and the case of the Clanravon jewels doesn’t appear to be part of Christie’s back catalogue of short stories. Crippen, of course, is a different kettle of fish. Here’s the relevant passage: “”The personality of a criminal, Georges, is an interesting matter. Many murderers are men of great personal charm.” “I’ve always heard, sir, that Dr. Crippen was a pleasant-spoken gentleman. And yet he cut up his wife like so much mincemeat.” “Your instances are always apt, Georges.”” Dr Crippen murdered his wife and dismembered her, for which he was hanged in 1910. It’s one of those cases that, for some reason, lingers on in society’s consciousness.

As this is a book where inheritance, divorce settlements and valuable jewellery all play a significant part, there are many instances of financial values being quoted but their value was very different in 1928 from their value today. Van Aldin values the jewels he gives Ruth to be between four and five hundred thousand dollars – today’s equivalent of between £3.6m and £4.5m. So we’re talking big biccies here. But actually, these are small potatoes compared with the two million dollars that Kettering told Mirelle that his wife had received from her father when she got married. That’s the equivalent of over £18m – a triple rollover on the lottery. By contrast, the £500 a year that Katherine was expecting from her inheritance works out at £22,000 in today’s money. Then there’s the £100,000 Van Aldin offers Kettering if he doesn’t contest Ruth’s divorce. That’s £4.4m today. And finally there’s the £2m that Kettering inherits from Ruth – a tidy £8.8m today. He’s a lucky lad.

It’s now time for my usual at-a-glance summary, for The Mystery of the Blue Train:

Publication Details: 1928. My copy is a Fontana paperback, 23rd impression published in March 1974, priced 30p. The intriguing cover picture is by an uncredited artist and depicts a cigarette case, some strands of red auburn hair, some bloodstaining on a brass stick, all against the backdrop of Ruth Kettering’s passport. Smart!

How many pages until the first death: 64. It’s the only death too. The story does take its time to get going.

Funny lines out of context: Unusually, I couldn’t really identify any. I did, however, enjoy these individual pieces of writing:
““Mrs Samuel Harfield presents her compliments to Miss Katherine Grey and wishes to point out that under the circumstances Miss Grey may not be aware –“ Mrs Harfield, having written so far fluently, came to a dead stop, held up by what has proved an insuperable difficulty to many other people – namely the difficulty of expressing oneself fluently in the third person.””

“”Ellen does a steak with grilled tomatoes pretty fairly,” said Miss Viner. “She doesn’t do it well but she does it better than anything else.””

Memorable characters:
One of the problems with this book as that the characters are not at all memorable. They’re primarily irritating, like Mirelle with that silly accent, or underemphasised like our heroine Katherine.

Christie the Poison expert:
Not in this book. The victim is killed by strangulation.

Class/social issues of the time:

Just as The Big Four offered us a rather uneducated view of mental health, this book takes a somewhat facile glance at suicide: “He fetched Zia’s cloak, and together they strolled out into the gardens. ”This is where the suicides take place,” said Zia. Poirot shrugged his shoulders. “So it is said, Men are foolish, are they not, Mademoiselle? To eat, to drink, to breathe the good air. It is a very pleasant thing, Mademoiselle. One is foolish to leave all that simply because one has no money – or because the heart aches. L’amour, it causes many fatalities, does it not?” This doesn’t show much appreciation of what we think of as mental illness today.

Miss Viner’s letter to Katherine is full of the minutiae of everyday living in St Mary Mead and gives a very vivid insight into her life, and the things that occupy her mind. “Everything goes on much the same here. There was great trouble about the new curate, who is scandalously high. In my view, he is neither more nor less than a Roman […] I have had a lot of trouble with maids lately. That girl Annie was no good – skirts up to her knees and wouldn’t wear sensible woollen stockings. Not one of them can bear being spoken to […] Dr Harris persuaded me to go and see a London specialist – a waste of three guineas and a railway fare, as I told him; but by waiting until Wednesday I managed to get a cheap return […] Is it cancer or is it not? And then, of course, he had to say it was. They say a year with care, and not too much pain, though I’m sure I can bear pain as well as any Christian woman.” So, here we have: divisions within the church, problems with servants, high cost of medical and railway services, and the fact that a diagnosis of cancer meant inevitable pain and death. It’s interesting to remember how professional fees were almost always given as guineas rather than pounds – that three guineas is the equivalent of £140 today. Pretty reasonable price in those days, by comparison! Miss Viner’s problem with maids is a classic example of Christie’s observations on the class system. In a later encounter: “”Tell Ellen she is not to have holes in her stockings when she waits at lunch.” “Is her name Ellen or Helen, Miss Viner? I thought –“ Miss Viner closed her eyes. “I can sound my h’s, dear, as well as anyone, but Helen is not a suitable name for a servant. I don’t know what the mothers in the lower classes are coming to nowadays.”

Captain Hastings, not known for his modern man approach to life, would have been in full agreement with Van Aldin’s view that all women are basically stupid: “There is one thing no man can do, and that is to get a woman to listen to reason. Somehow or other, they don’t seem to have any kind of sense. Talk of woman’s instinct – why, it is well known all the world over that a woman is the surest mark for any rascally swindler. Not one in ten of them knows a scoundrel when she meets one; they can be preyed on by any good-looking fellow with a soft side to his tongue.”

And, of course, there are the usual digs at foreigners. Jewel expert Papopolous (in itself something of a parody of a Greek surname) is described as a “wily Greek”. Chubby Evans has no time for the French, although Christie chides him for his view: “Mr. Chubby Evans listened with a very imperfect comprehension, his French being of a limited order. “So like the French,” murmured Mr Evans. He was one of those staunch patriotic Britons who, having made a portion of a foreign country their own, strongly resent the original inhabitants of it. “Always up to some silly dodge or other.”” There is also this slightly uncomfortable exchange between Poirot and Papopolous: “”Seventeen years is a long time,” said Poirot thoughtfully, “but I believe that I am right in saying, Monsieur, that your race does not forget.” “A Greek?” murmured Papopolous, with an ironical smile. “It was not as a Greek I meant,” said Poirot. There was a silence, and then the old man drew himself up proudly. “You are right, M. Poirot,” he said quietly. “I am a Jew. And, as you say, our race does not forget.””

Classic denouement: No, quite the contrary. There’s no grand assembly of all the suspects in a classy drawing room. It’s just a meeting between Poirot and two people. In fact, you only realise you’re in the denouement stage just before Poirot reveals the identity of the murderer. I had a sense of being a bit short-changed.

Happy ending? Not especially. Katherine is back at home, alone; Lenox is at home, alone. There doesn’t seem to be much in the way of character progression, nor the faint tinkling of wedding bells that so often characterises a Christie climax.

Did the story ring true? At a push, it’s not too fanciful. There are a few coincidences, of course, like the fact that Poirot is in situ to start the investigation and that both Kettering and Knighton are friends of the Tamplins, but then, it wouldn’t be a Christie without some coincidences.

Overall satisfaction rating: 4/10. Considering it’s called The Mystery of the Blue Train, it takes a long time before the Blue Train gets mentioned. So you always have this nagging feeling that all the preamble is just that – not part of the mystery. So whereas in other Christies those important pages before a crime is committed can be seen as enticing, clue-giving, and motive-suggesting, in this book it just feels like it’s taking a long time to get started. And, as I suggested above, the characters just go nowhere at the end. Definitely a book that ends with a whimper rather than a bang. One further slight disappointment – even though I couldn’t remember the story from my earlier readings, I still quite easily managed to guess the murderer – so no big surprise for me at the end.

Thanks for reading my blog of The Mystery of the Blue Train and if you’ve read it too, I’d love to know what you think. Please just add a comment in the space below. Next up in the Agatha Christie Challenge we move forward to 1929, and it’s back to that wacky gang at Chimneys with The Seven Dials Mystery. I can’t remember anything about this book, so I’ll be reading it as though it were brand new. As always, I’ll blog my thoughts about it in a few weeks’ time. In the meantime, please read it too then we can compare notes! Happy sleuthing!

If you enjoy my Agatha Christie Challenge, did you know it is now available as a book? In two revised volumes, it contains all my observations about Christie’s books and short stories, and also includes all her plays! The perfect birthday or Christmas gift, you can buy it from Amazon – the links are here and here!

Review – Spymonkey – The Complete Deaths, Royal and Derngate, Northampton, 5th May 2016

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Anyone who’s familiar with the Spymonkey oeuvre will know just one thing in advance of this show; it will be anarchic. It will probably be surreal; very likely subversive; there may be nudity (or at least flashes thereof); there will almost certainly be clowning; it’s bound to break most of the rules of drama; and it will create a situation where a reviewer has no choice but to include no fewer than five semi-colons in a sentence.

This was our fourth exposure to Spymonkey. Initially I resisted their siren call, because I thought they sounded just too silly. But I was encouraged to check them out by Top Management at the Royal and Derngate (I know, get me) and they were right. The stylish nonsense of Oedipussy, the scurrilous chaos of Cooped (which I think remains my favourite), the wayward farce of Every Last Trick and now The Complete Deaths, where Toby and the team attempt to recreate all the deaths that happen onstage in the entire works of Shakespeare. No off-stage deaths though. Oh no. That’s very clear. Helping us to identify and appreciate each individual death, an LED banner at the top of the proscenium arch declares the name of each relevant play and victim in Brechtian splendour, whilst another LED counter counts down the number of deaths left to re-enact, the number steadily reducing with ghoulish inevitability. The four performances in Northampton are described as previews in advance of the show opening next week as part of the Brighton Festival. So I guess what we saw last night might not be quite the finished product? But I’ll just have to assume it is.

You enter the auditorium to the sight of four stand up microphones in a row, which led me to expect some form of Jersey Boys entertainment. (Actually, Spymonkey channelling their inner Frankie Vallis would be well worth a ticket). But that would have been at odds with the sight of Petra Massey and Stephan Kreiss taking turns playing at dead on the stage floor, whilst the other films a fly wandering and buzzing all over them. (It’s not a real fly. No flies were harmed during the making of this show, the programme promises us. If that’s the case, they managed to find at least one fly that well deserves its Equity card.) The fly acts as a metaphor for death and a symbol of mortality, throughout the show. That’s no doubt the brainwave of Spymonkey boss Toby Park, who sees, in this production, an opportunity for true artistic revelation, to pare down the overblown inadequacies of a theatre company known for mere slapstick, to challenge its overfed and overcosseted petit bourgeois audience into confronting the reality of life and death, to take the theatrical art to the highest level of achievement; in fact, to indulge in overwhelmingly up-himself self-important pomposity. And he does it so well.

As a stark contrast to the sheer dramatic integrity of Toby’s approach to the work, the other members of the company are not perhaps quite so artistically aspirational. Aitor wants to be a grand actor, Petra wants some financial security (and to play Ophelia – not allowed, she’s offstage when she dies), and Stephan just wants to play. And that’s the strength of this show – Toby going in one direction (arty, with a capital F), the others in the other. Things come to a crunch when Toby’s very future with the company is questioned, resulting in his spectacular hurt puppy-dog kicked in the nuts look. Still, he always has the graphic design to fall back on. I think I have his business card somewhere.

And of course, there’s all the usual silly Spymonkey escapades to enjoy. Some of those interpretations of Shakespearean deaths are just brilliant. Aitor’s Romeo, getting his codpiece caught on the stepladder, as he lands on top of Petra’s Juliet had me in hysterics. The interminably and inappropriately jolly characters in Titus Andronicus, Petra’s interpretation of Thisbe as a bit of a scrubber, and the fabulously staged death of Hector in Troilus and Cressida by percussion tubing to Yazoo’s Only You, are all examples of their creatively inventive re-enactments. The pathos captured in the scene where Cinna the Poet is murdered was – literally – unreal. For Brutus’ death at the hands of Strato, Aitor seeks a member of the audience to join him on stage – so you have been warned. As it happens, George, who was Aitor’s assistant for the first night, had a brilliantly natural deadpan comic delivery and their double act worked a treat. There were many other remarkable, and hilarious, deaths but going into too much detail will only spoil it for you. Suffice to say that probably the crowning glory of the re-enactments was Petra’s tasteful and sensitive portrayal of the death of Cleopatra. Never has an asp had more fun. And even Shakespeare himself makes an appearance!

A very funny, probably unique evening of Shakespearean entertainment. I haven’t seen Mrs Chrisparkle laugh this much since the time I explained to her why I had been too busy to do the laundry. The company has such a wonderful sense of fun and that enviable total lack of inhibition that it is impossible not to love them. Once it has opened at Brighton Festival next week, the tour carries on throughout the country and Istanbul and Chicago, would you believe. No better stressbuster than to enjoy two middle-aged gentlemen in their underpants smearing each other with blood. A palpable hit. (Sorry, but it had to be said.)

Review – Nederlands Dans Theater 2, Birmingham Hippodrome, 3rd May 2016

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This was one of those no-brainer bookings. We haven’t seen NDT2 perform since 2007, having discovered them in 1997 and seen them seven times over the following decade. You could call them the youth faction of the Dutch National Dance Company, its performers being strictly limited to those aged between 18 and 23. After that they get promoted to the Premiership level of NDT1. And for those aged over 40, there’s an NDT3 too. Over the years we’ve seen them rise to the challenges of fantastic choreographers such as Jiri Kylian, Hans van Manen, Lightfoot Leon, Johan Inger, Ohad Naharin, and many others.

Paul Lightfoot, currently Artistic Director of Nederlands Dans Theater, is quoted in the programme as saying “we don’t do strong narrative works”. I read that in the first interval, having tried desperately hard to find a narrative in the first dance of the evening, Johan Inger’s I New Then. It was with some relief that I realised that Paul Lightfoot had already tacitly agreed with me that there wasn’t one. What was clear from the very start was that the quality of NDT2’s dancers is as amazing as it ever has been. Whether in the solos, or partner work, or as part of a full ensemble, the precision, the commitment, the athleticism and the sheer exuberance of each dancer is remarkable.

In an attempt to find the narrative (that wasn’t there), it seems to me that the strength of I New Then comes from the dualities of freedom of expression versus imprisonment, of control versus submission. Expect the unexpected with this dance; whether it be the sudden appearance of a forest of poles that you didn’t realise were there; or the slow undressing by two of the dancers (don’t worry, they don’t go all the way); or the abstract vocalising by one of the dancers as he witnesses this undressing, which takes on a life force of its own. Mrs Chrisparkle wasn’t convinced by this series of ohs that culminate in a shrieking sequence. Not that Guido Dutilh didn’t do it brilliantly (there’s a star in the making, for sure) or that the audience didn’t appreciate it – indeed many audience members were laughing their socks off. She just wasn’t sure of its relevance to the piece, other than simply finding a new way to do something different in the world of dance. But then she’s never been convinced of avant garde for avant garde’s sake. I understand where she’s coming from though – that aspect of that dance was perhaps a trifle tedious.

Our second dance of the night was Edward Clug’s mutual comfort (deliberately no capitals, apparently). Again, no point looking for a narrative; this dance for four people is characterised by a fascinating choreography that combines sparky, disjointed, and almost brutal actions with really smooth and silky moves. This was the first appearance that evening of the dancer Gregory Lau who struck me as being the company’s truly outstanding dancer of the night. But I also thought Katarina van den Wouwer danced superbly in this deceptively simple short piece – just eleven minutes. After a pause we were treated to a stunning performance of Hans van Manen’s Solo, where three dancers (ironically) all perform aspects of one character. It was an exceptional display, with Benjamin Behrends, Miguel Duarte and Gregory Lau all giving us immaculate spins, remarkable fluidity of movement and a true opportunity to show off their athleticism and power. Even though it’s only seven minutes long, afterwards Mrs C commented, “that was worth the ticket price alone”. It certainly was. A real tour de force.

The final dance of the night, occupying the traditional “crowd-pleaser” slot, was Alexander Ekman’s Cacti, a very tongue-in-cheek piece that deconstructs beautifully all that pompous pontificating by dance reviewers. Instantly full of high impact, as it starts with all sixteen dancers on the stage, perched on what appear to be recycled packing pallets, making as much noise as they like by tapping, patting, thumping and stomping around, not forgetting making all those gasps, sighs and other aspirations that us unfit people make when we’re overdoing the exercise. In other scenes these pallets are upended, with the dancers performing behind and partly on top of them, as if they were swimmers in a pallet sea, constantly creating visual jokes that work wonderfully well.

Interspersed with the exhilarating rhythms that really encourage the athletic dancing, there are some wonderfully po-faced spoken word tracks that try to dissect and make sense of the dance, always in the most riotously pompous way. At one stage, the opinion is voiced that the true power of the dance stems from the cacti themselves (yes there are real (or very good look alike) cacti as part of the performance. There’s another wonderful scene where you can hear an imaginary conversation between two dancers as they work their way through their routine, essentially providing a running commentary on what they’re doing, and whether they think any particular movement has intrinsic artistic merit. It’s all very funny and cleverly done. And who can forget the dead cat?

We didn’t stay for the Q&A session afterwards as we had a train to catch and it seemed very naughty being at large in Birmingham after 10pm on a school night. Thank you to Dance Consortium for bringing NDT2 back to our shores; we have missed them very much and it’s a thrill to see that they are as exciting and rewarding a watch as ever. They’re still to tour to Plymouth, Nottingham, Brighton and Sadler’s Wells – don’t miss the opportunity to catch them.

Review – Julian Clary, The Joy of Mincing, Derngate, Northampton, 30th April 2016

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This is the third or fourth time we’ve seen Julian Clary as a stand-up act. The first was way back in the 80s when Mrs Chrisparkle and I (she may even have been Miss Duncansby in those days) tackled the all-hallowed arena that was the Aylesbury Civic Centre, to see Mr C perform under the name of the Joan Collins Fan Club. Whenever his show comes around, we keep coming back, because he keeps on making us laugh – it’s as simple as that. He creates a fantastic rapport with the audience, who love to squirm at his double entendres and wallow in a sense of relief when he gets some other people up on stage and it’s not them.

This time around, it was clear that his material was a little more personal than usual. His monologues are littered with the phrase “and that’s a true story”, the majority of which you know are the precisely the opposite. But there are insights into his personal life which we haven’t seen before – living in Kent, partnered up, spending his time writing his children’s books (yes, I know, where did that come from?) as well as memories from the past.

We were privileged, when we first saw him perform, to be in the presence of Fanny the Wonder Dog. Julian remembers Fanny lovingly, and there’s always comic mileage to be gained associating the two. Fanny was eventually replaced by Valerie, whom, it appears, was a bit of a disappointment in pet performance terms. He gives us a long and funny routine recollecting his first, frosty encounter with The Joan Collins Herself; this was at the 2010 Hippodrome panto which we attended on one of the very many performances on which Miss Collins did not appear; but since then they have become besties. Mr C also recounts an excellent story of his hanging around the stage door at the Hippodrome and unwittingly involving himself in drug dealing. Not the kind of stuff that’s going to sell more children’s books, to be fair. And of course, he sings. Unforgettable, that’s what he is.

After the interval we go down the tried and tested scenario of Julian coercing three chaps from the audience to join him on stage. This time, the excuse is so that they may be invested with their MBEs – Mincers of the British Empire. He is an absolute star when it comes to this kind of interaction, reducing us all to tears with nearly unkind but not quite material about his victims. In order for them to be invested they have of course to be appropriately dressed, so they are sent offstage to be looked after by Julian’s assistant, Lesbian Bertha. Two return in appropriate regalia, not very butch but perfectly decent; the third – Chris the Engineer – is made to come out wearing nothing but a skimpy pair of pink hot pants. An entire audience salute you Chris, you took one for the team and the rest of us are so very, very grateful.

As we were walking back home after the show, a feeling of doubt entered our heads. In this day and age, is it appropriate for someone like Julian Clary to continue with his 1980s ridiculing of effeminate gay men? Just because he is one, and does it very well? It’s interesting to observe that the audience was overwhelmingly straight middle-aged/elderly couples who spend two hours laughing at “gay” things. Is his act now a trifle anachronistic? With his writing books for children, even Mr C himself is spreading his wings and starting to work in another area of the arts. This is just me thinking aloud, I haven’t come to any conclusions! After all, he remains extremely funny and everyone in the audience had a great time – even Chris the Engineer. His tour continues throughout May and he also returns for more in October and November. If you enjoy the typical Clary style, you’ll laugh your socks off.

Review – National Theatre Connections, Royal and Derngate, Northampton, 28th & 29th April 2016

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This is my first dip of the toe into the waters of the National Theatre Connections, but encouraged to take the plunge by my fellow partner in theatre-blogging crime Mr Smallmind, I thought I’d give it a go. If you don’t know what it’s all about, several local youth theatre groups participate in performing the same plays in many different parts of the country. I say “local” – some of these guys had come a very long way to perform for us, so thank you for that! It wasn’t possible for me to see all the plays on offer at the Royal and Derngate, but I saw five, which isn’t bad for a first attempt. It would have been six, except that Theatre Alba had to cancel their performance of Bassett, due to cast illness. Shame; get well soon!

Citizenship by Mark Ravenhill, performed by RAPA at the Royal Theatre, 28th April.

This is the first time I’ve seen a play by the celebrated Mark Ravenhill, but knowing his fondness for the odd bit of bad language (after all he did write Shopping and F***ing), I was a little concerned for the good morals and purity of the young people involved. I needn’t have worried. What a terrific little play and what a first rate performance from the entire company.

RAPA – I’m guessing – is the Rushden Academy Performing Arts. Many things stood out for me. The sensitivity with which the subject matter was handled – a 15-year-old boy trying to understand his sexuality – and how it was portrayed by the actors playing Tom and Amy was really impressive. The sheer professionalism of the actors; the lead roles of Tom, Amy and Gary brought huge understanding and emotion to their characters, as well as getting just the right amount of humour out of the text. You would not have known these were not professional actors. There were also some superbly performed scenes showing how some girls are born to be great mothers and some just aren’t!

But perhaps the most impressive aspect of the show was how well the company worked as an ensemble. The opening (silent) scene is a fantastic display of physical comedy between the cast, choreographically perfect to within an inch of each other; swift, precise, funny, story-telling, characterful, full of little victories and school bullying; a true delight. When anything went slightly wrong they coped with it brilliantly – one guy lost a shoe in one of the mock-fight scenes but he carried on as if nothing had happened and subtly put it back on at a good moment – that could have thrown a lesser actor. I was also very impressed with the confidence and adroitness with which the cast handled the boxes – that kind of prop/scenery handling isn’t as easy as it looks and they have it down to a fine art. Stunning work team, you did a fantastic job.

As an aside, in an audience made up of more than 95% sixth-formers, I was very surprised at the barely suppressed sounds of shock, horror and disgust that came from some of them at the sight of two guys kissing. I would have thought young adults today (particularly those interested in the theatre) would have been more grown-up about such things.

Take Away by Jackie Kay, performed by BEA Theatre Company, in the Underground, 28th April.

To this group of aspiring actors, I give you this constructive feedback. OK kids, here’s the deal: If you’re going to the effort to put on a play, and ask the general public to pay to come and see it, there are some rules you have to follow. 1) learn the lines; 2) know your positions; 3) when things go wrong, cover it up and move on; 4) if you’re occupying chairs by the side of the stage whilst you’re not “on stage”, maintain personal discipline by sitting still and silently; and 5) don’t give up after five minutes and giggle your way through the rest of the performance like you’re in the playground. Above all, don’t make your audience cringe with so much embarrassment that they want the earth to open up and swallow them. I understand that for reasons outside of the cast’s control there were some late-in-the-day changes which inevitably meant it was under-rehearsed. But even so, there’s no excuse for not taking it seriously in front of a paying audience.

Eclipse by Simon Armitage, performed by Northampton High School, at the Royal Theatre, 28th April.

Simon Armitage is the Oxford Professor of Poetry, so I went in to the show hoping for something rather classically erudite. The play was commissioned by the National Theatre for the Connections programme back in 1996, and was inspired by the real-life disappearance of a girl during the solar eclipse. Top marks here for the professionalism in preparing a programme (the only one of the five shows to do so) – makes the life of a reviewer so much easier!

I must confess I didn’t really like the play itself very much. As a modern verse drama, it felt a bit pretentious and rather stylised – just not my style I’m afraid. However, there were some very enjoyable performances. Georgina Balderstone in particular gave a very strong performance as Lucy Lime, the girl who disappears. Full of character, benefiting from her very clear and well projected speaking voice, and appearing naturally very comfortable on the stage – a fine stage presence. Amy Goldup was also very strong as Klondike, the natural leader of “the gang”, very accurate and natural with her speech patterns and conversational style. I also really enjoyed the performance of Shona Guha as Glue Boy, bringing out all the humour of the character’s drug-fuelled state. If I have a criticism, it would be that they weren’t sufficiently au fait with the prop handling and scenery layout, which caused a few minor crises and collisions along the way – including an unexpectedly hilarious moment when a member of the cast repositioned a table on which she was placing items, forgetting that, to us, that table was a huge boulder. But that’s just a matter of more rehearsal. Overall a very good performance of a not-very-easy play.

The Musicians by Patrick Marber, performed by St Swithun’s School, in the Underground, 28th April.

I’m glad to have finally got the chance to see The Musicians, because we were originally scheduled to see the R&D Youth Company perform it in February – but it clashed with the UK’s National Final at Eurovision. Sorry, Youth Company; I will see you again some time, promise. The Musicians was written in 1994 and is a charming little play about a British school orchestra performing at a culture festival in Moscow – only problem is, their instruments have been seized by Customs. Get out of that one if you can.

It was a very enjoyable production, high on humour if a little sparse on theatricality. Much of the drive comes from the antagonistic relationship but later respectful friendship between Roland, the conductor and Alex, the cleaner; and the two actors took on these roles with spirit. But I most enjoyed the performance of the character (didn’t catch the name I’m afraid) of the girl who idolises Roland and looks up to him at every opportunity. She gave a great comic performance, especially when she throws herself on the floor in self-disgust because it’s her fault the instruments have been impounded. From a story-telling perspective, it wasn’t entirely clear to me what happened in the concert. Did they just mime to a recording? Or did they mime silently? The character who says she made a mistake made a great job of that very funny line. I also didn’t entirely understand why Alex was lauded as a hero so much at the end. I was paying attention, honest. I’m unsure whether those little problems were caused by the direction, or the acting, or both. Oh, and kudos to the group for going for a sophisticated professional-style curtain call!

Gargantua by Carl Grose, performed by Foundations Youth Theatre, at the Royal Theatre, 29th April.

Foundations Youth Theatre can’t half get a lot of people on stage at one time! When we entered the auditorium, there were already dozens of actors, sprawled out over the floor, their hands quivering to the beat of some portentous music. The Prime Minister was mistaking his cabinet member for “Doris”, they were trying to get him to remember the secret code to prevent a nuclear war, and there was a vast big baby balloon bobbing up and down in the background. Confused? Maybe, but thoroughly delighted too, as this huge surreal melting pot of nonsense had me giggling from the start.

I really loved the inventive use of balloons throughout the performance – someone with very adept fingers had made them into a film camera, a doctor’s stethoscope, military weapons; in fact, almost every prop was made from balloonery. Well done to everyone for keeping them under control, because balloons have a habit of slipping out of place, but the prop handling was perfect. Also, congratulations to the guys who, War Horse-like, discreetly and expertly puppeteered the big baby into position and operated its hands and legs so efficiently that you didn’t notice them pulling the strings. Nice work.

As well as all the great ensemble scenes, where everyone knew their places and dovetailed with each other perfectly, there were some super individual performances too. No programme, so I don’t know anyone’s names, so I’ll have to refer to them by their characters. I really enjoyed the portrayal of Regina, the hectoring building developer, all northern bluff and bully; she brought a terrific stage presence and characterisation to the show. Mr and Mrs Mungus provided a genuine touch of tenderness to the roles of new parents and finely played their parts as straight as possible so that the ironic humour shone out. Dr Lucky approached his role with relish – he had something of the James Acaster about him; politician Pippa also has a great physical presence, delivered her lines with an excellent variety of emphasis, and she also gave the Prime Minister the most convincing slap. The PM and his adviser cronies were very amusing, and I also enjoyed the pomposity of the TV reporter. Last, but not least, congratulations to the guys who sang the baby’s lullaby – very nicely done, with a good balance of absurd humour and musicality. But all the cast turned in a sterling performance, and you could feel, as a member of the audience, that everyone sitting around you really enjoyed it. Great stuff.

So if this were a drama festival and I had to pick one “winner”, out of those five I would narrowly give it to RAPA for Citizenship but with Foundations Youth Theatre’s Gargantua a very creditable second. I really enjoyed my first Connections experience, and will certainly look out for it again next year. In the meantime, I would estimate that over the last two days I saw at least seven young actors who gave really impressive, sophisticated and virtually flawless performances and I look forward to seeing them again on fresh stages and in new roles in the future. Best of luck to everyone involved!

Review – The Truth, Menier Chocolate Factory, 24th April 2016

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As a result of The Father, Florian Zeller has become something of a star name in the world of dramatists, but I confess this is the first time I’ve seen anything he’s written. As La Vérité, this play was written in 2011 and has been performed not only in France but also Germany, Italy, Belgium and Spain. As The Truth it has been translated by Christopher Hampton and now appears for the first time in the UK.

What is the truth? Sometimes, as this hilarious and cringe-making play shows, it’s not always that easy to tell. You may be lying to your partner if you are having an affair, and presumably your co-affairee (is that a word? If not, it should be) is also lying to their partner. But is that the end of it? Are there further untruths out there? With terrific dexterity, the play shows the tangled web we weave when first we practise…well you know the rest. I can’t say too much about the plot without giving the entire game away, and that would be greatly to reduce the play’s impact; you need to come fresh to its little shocks and surprises right until the bitter end. So that’s all the plot you’re getting from me.

As a teaser, though, the programme gives you the play’s tight structure: seven scenes take you through the Rendezvous, Tightrope Walking, The Lie, Friendship, The Break-Up, An Explanation, and the Truth. When it’s precisely mapped out like this in advance, your mind can follow the clear route from start to finish even though you’ve no idea exactly what’s in store. This helps give the play an inexorable drive and pace, and somehow makes its final conclusion seem even more inevitable. Mrs Chrisparkle and I were thinking afterwards that this would be a most uncomfortable play to watch as a couple if either of you had had an affair. And whatever you do, don’t book this show as part of a let’s forgive and forget process; you might as well hand over the keys your house and move out straight away.

Lizzie Clachan’s stark and sterile set provides an excellent background for this deceptively unemotional play; no place for sentiment here. Instead all the attention is focussed on Michel getting further and further into trouble and trying to extricate himself from the mess. The text delivers cliffhanger after cliffhanger, punchline after punchline, always keeping you on your toes waiting for the next squirm; and Lindsay Posner’s clear and pacey direction helps keep the fast and furious plot development as the topmost priority.

Weaving its way through the web of deceit is a superb performance by Alexander Hanson as Michel. Hardly ever off stage, he self-degenerates from urbane, rather smarmy and selfish lover to quivering wreck. As he starts to realise that he is just as sinned against as sinning, his retaliations and defences become more and more ludicrous, so that he comes across as a self-pitying spoilt git without the slightest degree of empathy. It’s a beautifully funny performance, full of fantastic timing and great energy. It’s not often you see Captain von Trapp with his pants around his ankles – don’t worry, it’s all done in the best possible taste.

For the plot development and reveals to work fully, it’s necessary for the motivations of the other characters to be not quite so obvious. Frances O’Connor’s Alice, carrying on the affair with Michel behind her husband’s back, is delightfully aloof at times, providing just enough sexual allure to keep Michel coming back for more but holding back too so that we can’t quite see where she’s going. Their phone call scene where Michel has to pretend to be Alice’s aunt is a Laugh Out Loud Riot. Tanya Franks gives a great performance as Laurence, Michel’s wife, pointedly asking him difficult questions, slowly revealing she knows more than he thinks she knows, making him dig deeper to get out of his already substantial hole. And anything she might be hiding comes to the surface with subtle brilliance. Perhaps it’s only Robert Portal who slightly underplays the role of Paul, Michel’s best friend and Alice’s husband; he successfully keeps his cards close to his chest but at the same time you slightly wonder why Michel would have him as his best friend, because not quite enough of the “best friendliness” comes out in his performance. Still, maybe Paul knows something we don’t know…

But this is a minor quibble. It’s a fascinating and hilarious play, perfectly structured, and with a marvellous central performance. One hour 25 minutes at a push; for some people that is music to their ears, so they can get on and do other things; for others (myself included) you can’t quite help the feeling of being slightly short-changed. Back in the day, that would have constituted one half of a double bill of two one-act plays. But better a short performance of this play than none. There is talk of a transfer; why not? It’s enormously entertaining and really deserves it.

Eurovision 2016 – The Grand Final

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There are just six more songs left to consider that are guaranteed their Saturday night spot without any unnecessary hurdles earlier in the week. As the performance order is not yet decided I’m going to take them in alphabetical order. That will appeal to whatever OCD is in me. Again each preview will have its own star rating and its bookmaker odds courtesy of oddschecker.com, as at 14th April. You’ve come so far! You can’t give up so soon.

France – Amir – J’ai cherché

And here’s a fine thing. France have come up with a total smasheroony that is many people’s favourite (myself included) and is probably their best song for generations. Amir’s original album version of the song which exceeds 3 minutes is even better. But I still love the English/French mix of the lyrics and its totally overwhelming rhythms that cling on and won’t let you go. The lyrics of self-recognition and achievement are beautifully realised in the video featuring a boy ballet dancer and a girl boxer – be who you want to be, is the message. Sadly, I don’t think it will actually carry off the Grand Prix but what a splendid thing if it did. Ethnically Amir is an exciting blend of nationalities, which comes out in his musical style. A true entertainer; at the London Eurovision Party he held the title of Monsieur Charisma. 10/3 – 11/4 (coming in). *****

Germany – Jamie-Lee – Ghost

18-year-old Jamie-Lee became the first teenager to win the German version of The Voice and is obviously on her way to becoming a big favourite at home. The song has a very downbeat feel to it, with its theme of trying to rescue a dying relationship, which is at odds with Jamie-Lee’s Disney Princess with a touch of Gaga fashion sense. I reckon it lacks that vital impact that will get people’s juices flowing. The more you hear it, the better it gets, but I think it will be too late – a case of Spirits Having Flown. 40/1 – 66/1 (drifting). ***

Italy – Francesca Michielin – No Degree of Separation

For some reason it nearly always takes me a long time to get to grip with Italian entries; apart from Fiumi di Parole, I loved that from the start. You know how Mozart is criticised in Amadeus for writing too many notes? I feel this is a song that has not enough notes but too many words. It’s like Jim Steinman has moonlighted for La Scala and come up with a soul searching epic that goes on, and on, and…. Francesca emotes her little calzini off in the video, but at the London Party I thought it lacked oomph. A musical interpretation of flogging a dead horse. 28/1 – 40/1 (steady). ***

Spain – Barei – Say Yay!

Another song with an upbeat message about getting what you want and letting no one stand in your way. And if they don’t like it, well say yay. If you know me in real life, you’ll know that I’m not above getting on the dance floor and shaking my geriatric thing but even so when I first heard this song it rather left me cold; if this is meant to create a wall of sound it needs repointing. That said, I like it much more now, and, with some wily staging, the gaps in its structure might well be hidden. The song has courted controversy for being the first ever Spanish entry sung completely in English. Whatever next, Big Macs replacing tapas? Barei’s a game lass and certainly knows how to present a song. Kurt Calleja wants his shoes back. And his dance routine. 22/1 – 40/1 (drifting). ****

Sweden – Frans – If I Were Sorry

This year’s young people’s song, if I can put it that way. And after all, little Frans is just 17. I met him at the London Eurovision Party. Very polite, very quiet, and possessor of several beanies. His dad on the other hand is a complete raver. My least favourite from the ten to choose from in the Melodifestivalen final, Frans is, however, an excellent performer and really sells the song, and I’m just beginning to get it. I reckon this will go down very well with juries and young voters, but don’t expect anything from those over [insert your own age here]. It doesn’t help that, at heart, it’s a rather unpleasant song – promising all this love and tenderness, forgiveness and reconciliation, only to discover the little sh*t’s not sorry after all. Top ten certainly, top five maybe. 8/1 – 14/1 (starting to drift). ***

United Kingdom – Joe and Jake – You’re Not Alone

Saved the best till last? Not quite, but not far off, in my humble opinion. Joe and Jake were certainly my choice to go forward from the UK national final (Hallelujah that we had one). The guys seem to have a great understanding of each other, and I find myself singing the song at odd moments on a far too regular basis. They harmonise well, and I really love the I, I, I….Sky, I, I sequence. Really nice, down to earth, ordinary guys too. I can’t see it on the left hand side of the scoreboard but will be crossing all digits in the hope for much better. Can’t resist a spot of Retro Britpop. You will say that patriotism is blinding my insight; maybe so, but this is my favourite UK song since Nicki French. 50/1 – 150/1 (coming in slightly). *****

As ever, I do a little counting up of the number of hits each song has received on the Eurovision.tv YouTube channel, not that it means anything at all on previous experience. These are the top ten hits as at 26th April.

10th – Russia (1603827)

9th – Spain (1746290)

8th – Serbia (1760659)

7th – Bosnia (2072256)

6th – Armenia (2707698)

5th – Malta (2707942)

4th – Azerbaijan (2874983)

3rd – France (2909088)

2nd – Australia (3053444)

1st – Poland (3532181)

Last year second place Russia came first in this table, third place Italy were 8th in this table, whereas winning song Sweden was nowhere to be seen. Azerbaijan, Australia and Spain were also in the top ten of YouTube views, just as they are this year. What stands out this year is the high placing of Poland. Worth a sneaky Each Way?

Have a great time watching the show on May 14th, wherever you are – at home with some crisps, at a party, or in Stockholm. May the best song win!

Eurovision 2016 – Semi Final Two

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So here we are again, gentle reader, with a look at the eighteen songs that will battle it out in Semi Final Two. It was going to be nineteen, but then the EBU looked in the box where Romania had said it had left 16 million Swiss Francs and the damn thing was empty! So they got booted out of the contest in a hissy fit and can now only stand on the sidelines and peer with their noses pressed up against the shop window. As before, you can also see the betting odds, courtesy of oddschecker.com (taking all the bookmakers who will give you the first four places each way, as at 26th April) and also giving each song a star rating out of 5. Let’s do this!

Latvia – Justs – Heartbeat

Semi Final Two gets underway with Justs from Latvia and a song with so synthesised an arrangement that the notes sound like farting in an electronic bathtub. I’m confused by this song – is he going for a kind of Erasure sound? Justs appeared at the London Eurovision Party and gives a confident performance and I know this song is fancied but it kind of just passes me by. I really want to like it more than I do. OK – after about half a dozen hearings, I’m just beginning to get it. But that’s not what you want from a Eurovision song. 16/1 – 25/1 (starting to drift). **

Poland – Michał Szpak – Color of Your Life

So let’s start with a rap across the knuckles for the American spelling of Colour. Don’t think that will endear you to the British voters, Mr Szpak. Michał is definitely master of his own appearance; in fact, with that Biblical look you’d think him much more likely to walk on water than Ira Losco. I didn’t like this much when I first heard it but it is growing on me now. I rather like the song’s sentiment – it appeals to someone who’s perhaps no longer in the first flush of youth. The melody is charming – but it does remind me of something else…. But then I guess there are lots of songs that go “Oh oh oh oh”. He sang at the London Eurovision Party and definitely has a strong stage presence. I expect it will qualify. 28/1 – 40/1 (coming in). *

Switzerland – Rykka – The Last of our Kind

Another of those songs that’s part way to being good but somehow falls short. Rykka’s an attractive girl with big hair and a very irritating way of saying “movie”. But I find if I listen all the way to the end of the song it’s like swallowing a pint of sugar paste. Switzerland have sent some brilliant songs over the past ten years. This isn’t one. 150/1 – 300/1 (steady). *

Israel – Hovi Star – Made of Stars

Continuing the syrup, here is Hovi Star with Made of Stars and if you feel like that’s just a little too much astronomy, I’m with you. Israel tend to send two types of song: the lively, dynamic, ethnically funky stuff that everyone loves, and variations on a dirge like this one. It’s very repetitive too. When I was playing the songs to Mrs Chrisparkle this was the one where she cried out for mercy and said she could take no more. A very pleasant melody lost inside a jelly of gloop. Did I tell you it was repetitive? 66/1 – 150/1 (steady). **

Belarus – Ivan – Help You Fly

Still, no matter how sugary sweet the earlier entries, at least they don’t feature a naked man surrounded by wolves. I guess they realise the song is so weak they have to distract the viewer with something. Perfecting that “just out of the shower” look, Ivan wants to help us fly, but if he’s the pilot, I think I’ve just lost my passport. A song from another era, from another planet. It’s the wolves I feel sorry for. 150/1 – 300/1 (steady). *

Serbia – Sanja Vučić ZAA – Goodbye (Shelter)

So there’s a number of things that put you off here. The song has a title with another title (in brackets) that bears no association with the first title. The singer appears to have the Serbian equivalent of MBE after her name, although that’s apparently her group. So why isn’t she Sanja Vučić and the ZAA’s? Much more reassuring. Sanja herself is an attractive girl until she overdoes the makeup so that she looks like Cleopatra on Goth night. The song is some overblown nonsense that gets nowhere but does so with chutzpah. 18/1 – 28/1 (steady). **

Ireland – Nicky Byrne – Sunlight

Whoever produced the video made the fatal error of displaying the lyrics – that way there is no hiding place from the fact that they are mindlessly trite. That said, surely only Sergey Lazarev has similar live-performance-in-front-of-a-huge-crowd experience as our Nicky, and he’s going to be a really safe pair of lungs on the night. Actually I like this song very much. It’s upbeat, well-meaning, stays just on the entertaining side of bland, and has the nice touch that the melody goes up at the end of the chorus. He appeared briefly at the London Eurovision Party before he had to get the flight back to Ireland, but sure gave a great performance. Underrate this at your peril. 50/1 – 150/1 (steady). ****

FYR Macedonia – Kalliopi – Dona

Everyone else has already done all the doner doner doner kebab jokes, so I won’t add to your burden. Kalliopi is, as we know from her 2012 Eurovision appearance, a really gifted singer with a powerful personality and strong stage presence. Crno I belo is a fantastic song which has stood the test of time with fortitude. Dona, on the other hand, seems lame and dated even before it’s started. Shame because she’s capable of so much more. 150/1 – 350/1 (steady). **

Lithuania – Donny Montell – I’ve Been Waiting for this Night

The second of two repeat offenders on the run, it’s welcome back to Donny Montell and this time he’s left the blindfold off. As soon as I’d heard this song a few months ago I guessed instantly that it would win the Lithuanian selection show, as it’s a very easy-going, likeable tune sung by an easy-going, likeable guy. This is one of those Eurovision songs that would fit in well as a show tune. That’s not always a good thing. It’s ok to listen to a few times, but you wouldn’t want to overdo it. 80/1 – 150/1 (steady). ***

Australia – Dami Im – The Sound of Silence

Australia in the semis for the first time and they’ve brought in another big gun with X-factor winner, and South Korean export, Dami Im. This sound of silence has nothing to do with Simon and Garfunkel – although there may be some slight borrowings in the lyrics – and for certain Paul and Art definitely never did FaceTime. This has a strong, haunting atmosphere and relentless rhythm that really packs a punch. The chorus is repetitive, and doesn’t say much – but that somehow adds to its slightly eerie instability. Great stuff. 10/1 – 12/1 (steady). *****

Slovenia – ManuElla – Blue and Red

A rather racy and pacey song, the message of which is “blue is blue and red is red and you’re depressed that I wouldn’t be what you wanted me to be but I’m alright, so that’s alright then.” I’m not sure ManuElla should start volunteering at the Samaritans. She looks kinda cute in one of Sergeant Pepper’s old cast-offs. It’s okay; it’s what Mrs C would call “relentless” and she doesn’t mean that as a compliment. 150/1 – 400/1 (drifting). ***

Romania – Ovidiu Anton – Moment of Silence

This is where Romania would have been – but now they’re not. Actually it’s a song that I didn’t rate at all until I heard it performed live at the London Eurovision Party. Ovidiu’s a formidable chap who loves to rock and he delivers a really powerful vocal to this anthemic ballad which feels like it should be the theme to a Lord of the Rings-type fantasy. It’s a little overblown and a little over-the-top – but then again, it is Eurovision, isn’t it? Surprisingly entertaining. But, above all, not participating. ∞/1. ***

Bulgaria – Poli Genova – If Love Was a Crime

This is what you’ve been privately wondering all the time: “дай ми любовта”. That’s what she’s singing in the bit you don’t understand. It means “give me love” according to Google Translate. I thought she was singing either the sex-in-the-bath invitation of “ooh, bring me loofah” or the more mysterious whodunit suggestion of “who nicked me loofah”. Rather sad to discover neither is true. Poli teamed up with the Chipmunks for the introduction – nice of her to give work to some aged singing rodents. “If love was a crime, then we would be criminals…. They will never break us down… Our love ain’t got no pride… Together we’re untouchable…” In post-Conchita eastern Europe, this is more than just a love song, methinks. Great performer too, as I can testify from the London Eurovision Party. 18/1 – 25/1 (coming in). ****

Denmark – Lighthouse X – Soldiers of Love

Typical boyband sound but perhaps not quite so typical boyband members and lyrics. Whilst the description of the group on Eurovision.tv is as pompous as it gets, they clearly are three separate artistes, combined together to make socially responsible music (whatever that is). When asked if they have a superstition before going on stage, they answer: “We gather together, look at each other, deeply in the eyes, as we agree to have fun and to sing from the heart.” OK. The song is all about “what’s the reason that we keep on hiding… take my hand and never let go…we’ll be soldiers of love”. Lyrically Bulgaria and Denmark are bookends on the same shelf. Musically, it never quite soars, but it’s pleasing enough. 80/1 – 150/1 (steady). ***

Ukraine – Jamala – 1944

So when your non-Eurovision-watching friend says to you that Eurovision is all frothy light-hearted bubblegum, you can turn their attention to this year’s Ukrainian song which is all about acts of war and genocide; specifically, about the deportation of the Crimean Tatars in 1944 and particularly about Jamala’s great-grandmother, who lost her daughter while being deported to Central Asia. There’s no doubt that it’s a moving song; nor is there any doubt that Jamala is an extraordinary singer. I’m just not sure it’s that rewarding a listen. Is it shallow of me to prefer Le Papa Pingouin? And does she really mean to say arseholes? Twice? 16/1 – 22/1 (starting to drift). ***

Norway – Agnete – Icebreaker

Now here’s a funny old thing. You’ve heard that concept of having two or three tunes spliced together in one song, and how it always works? Think again. Agnete warms us up with an enjoyably upbeat verse and gets you in the mood for a schlagertastic chorus – and then everything stops as tune #2 kicks in like a hangover. What on earth were they thinking? Mrs C almost choked on her prosecco. Once you’ve had that feeling of let-down, you never regain the original upbeat atmosphere. I don’t think this will qualify. 66/1 – 125/1 (drifting). **

Georgia – Nika Kocharov and Young Georgian Lolitaz – Midnight Gold

Nika Kocharov and Young Georgian Lolitaz. What a totally splendid name for a band. Unfortunately, after that, everything goes downhill. No, to be fair, the video is rather fun, with Nika as a mad professor and the group on Play-Doh instruments. Yet another example of a song that almost makes it, because it has a subtle moody vibe and decent guitar work but it just doesn’t gel together. Very non-Eurovision. 150/1 – 500/1 (steady). **

Albania – Eneda Tarifa – Fairytale

I know you’d been wondering what had happened to Youddiph’s massive dress after the 1994 contest. Well it’s turned up in Eneda’s dressing-up box and she sports it quite tastefully for headgear. That’s not the only thing that’s unoriginal about this entry. They’ve taken Rybak’s title, Antique’s concept and Aminata’s “oh-oh”s. Three minutes of moody gloom. It does nothing for me at all. 100/1 – 500/1 (steady). *

Belgium – Laura Tesoro – What’s The Pressure

Cheeky little Laura is only 19 and looks like a bundle of fun so why has she saddled herself with a song straight out of the 1980s? I bet she’s got loads of better numbers up her sleeve. It sounds so dated; after last year’s Belgian entry this is a massive step backwards. The lyrics also don’t make much sense. The tune is bright and breezy but never quite hits a pay-off moment. It goes so far, then pulls itself back. A musical interpretation of Catholic birth control. 80/1 – 150/1 (steady). **

And that completes Semi Final Two. Which eight songs do you think are for the jettisoning? Albania, Belarus, Georgia, Switzerland, Belgium, FYR Macedonia, Israel and Serbia is my guess. Remember to watch the second semi-final on BBC 4 at 8pm on Thursday 12th May – this time viewers in the UK can vote. Ten songs will go forward from both semis to the Grand Final on 23rd May along with six others – the Big Five and last year’s Sweden. See you tomorrow for that final countdown – and there are some good ones still to look forward to!

Eurovision 2016 – Semi Final One

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Greetings gentle reader! It’s Eurovision time again, Hip Hip… replacement. This year 42 nations of the world who are either in Europe, are out of Europe but are in the EBU, or are called “Australia”, will be competing for the glory of the Eurovision win and the honour of hosting the contest in their home country next year. Not you, Australia, get back in line – if you win, Angela Merkel’s going to host it in Berlin like a true okker. To get you up to speed, I’m here with one eye on YouTube and another on Oddschecker to bring you the 18 songs that will get the ball rolling with Semi Final One, coming all the way from Stockholm in bonnie Sweden. Let’s look at them in the order that SVT have decided; no more random draws of course, this is about as transparent as a photocopied fax from Mossack Fonseca. With each song you’ll find the betting odds taking all the bookmakers who will give you the first four places on an Each Way as at 26th April, and also I’ll give each song a star rating out of 5. Hajde da ludujemo and let’s go crazy!

Finland – Sandhja – Sing it Away

So we start off with Sandhja, and her song bursting with optimism and positivity. It’s the kind of song that just might make you feel better about your life, if you think of all the bad things and then just sing them away. Simples. Apparently, it’s impossible to be stressed if you’re singing. I like its message; it’s got a reasonable amount of girl power to be healthy without being overpowering; and the tune is not half bad. When the chorus kicks in that brassy accompaniment makes it sound like a forgotten album track by Swing Out Sister. The only problem with it is that it’s a wee bit forgettable. And with seventeen more songs to follow, who’s going to remember it? 100/1 – 350/1 (steady). ***

Greece – Argo – Utopian Land

Time for the annual quiz question, how on earth can Greece afford to participate in Eurovision? Maybe by taking their 2011 entry Watch My Dance, switching the verse and the chorus round the other way, trading in Loucas Yiorkas for an obscure folk group and crossing their collective fingers. Seriously, the lyrics are a rather poignant account of refugees getting a chance to jump on a plane for a better life in an Utopian Land and you’d have to be pretty hard-hearted not to feel a tinge of there but for the grace of God about it. To be fair, you’ll probably like it most the first time you hear it, which is not a bad thing for a Eurosong. After a couple of listens you want to slit your wrists in a vat of ouzo. 100/1 – 300/1 (steady). **

Moldova – Lidia Isac – Falling Stars

Lidia’s a striking lady with something of the Daria Kinzer about her; I wonder if she’ll borrow all her frocks. After all, she’s borrowed the tune from YOHIO’s Heartbreak Hotel. It’s quite upbeat and enjoyable to listen to but there’s nothing that really gets you going wow. 12 points from Romania. Well, it would have been at any rate, if they hadn’t been sent home with a flea in their ear. 200/1 – 500/1 (drifting). ***

Hungary – Freddie – Pioneer

Next up a country that in recent years has put out some terrific stuff but is just starting to go backwards. Last year Boggie was a tedefest and I reckon Freddie’s in the same category. He’s got one of those voices where you’re not entirely sure he’s going to make the note without busting some vital organ. The song limps along and after three minutes we’re put out of our misery. For some bizarre reason, this is relatively popular. Must be his Magyar charm, and his inability to tuck in his shirt. 40/1 – 80/1 (drifting). **

Croatia – Nina Kraljic – Lighthouse

So far this hasn’t been a semi-final of enormous promise, and here’s another one that almost makes it as a good song but then has a rather boring chorus to let it down. A lighthouse is meant to be a beacon to show the way; but I’d be frankly nervous about following Nina up a dark alley. The poor girl’s going to catch her death after all that rain anyway. Quite atmospheric I guess. We saw Nina perform at the London Eurovision Party, where she seemed to be wearing a tree. I have to say, it didn’t shine too much of a light. 25/1 – 66/1 (drifting significantly). ***

Netherlands – Douwe Bob – Slow Down

Finally, a song that sounds a little different from all the others! Douwe Bob, unlike his more famous brother Egbert, has got his mates round for a jamming session and some pool down at the local bar. He gives us a country sounding song in praise of taking it easy. I liked this the moment I heard it – and I don’t do country. Will it be the second Common Linnets? Probably not. But it’s generally appealing and will certainly qualify. 25/1 – 50/1 (steady). ****

Armenia – Iveta Mukuchyan – LoveWave

And now it’s time for a contender for the title Most Attractive Performer (female). Iveta’s song takes a good while to get going – including wasting a huge number of seconds on a silly sound effect about half a minute in – but once it does kick in, I rather like it. Moodily shot, the video includes Carola’s wind machine and a Viking. Plus, it has the words: “Spread a lovewave ´n my heart goes ba-ba-da-bu-who-oh-oh”. What’s not to like? A 2-minute song stretched out to 3. Don’t interrupt Iveta before she goes on stage, as she’ll be meditating with her crystals. 14/1 – 22/1 (steady). ****

San Marino – Serhat – I Didn’t Know

From the sublime to the ridiculous; the really, really, ridiculous. Serhat is obviously a terrific chap, and a doyen of Turkish TV for many years. Have you heard his song Je m’adore? Check it out, it’s great. Just don’t accidentally listen to his Eurovision song by mistake. I hope he doesn’t wear that stupid monocle thing. When I first heard this I found it strangely haunting; that was before they disco’d it up and now I think it hasn’t a ghost of a chance. To think this came from the team who helped create Sakis’ Shake It. How art the mighty fallen. 150/1 – 500/1 (drifting). *

Russia – Sergey Lazarev – You Are The Only One

This year’s big favourite with the bookmakers comes from a strong performer, and with a glossy promotional video it’s clear that Russia really want the title again. And I think they could do it. Sergey has the ability to make a weak song sound like Ivor Novello. The song isn’t quite the strongest but it’s perfectly acceptable and with a combination of a good performance and millions of roubles, it could be St Petersburg 2017, Tovarich. Wonder if he’ll have a proper haircut before the event? Colgate and whitening, it’s getting exciting. 13/8 – 2/1 (steady). ****

Czech Republic – Gabriela Gunčíková – I Stand

Following the Czech Republic’s return to the Eurovision fold last year with a little cracker of a song, they’re keeping up the pressure with a solid and charming ballad from the lovely Gabriela Gunčíková. Nice video; amazing what you can achieve with some Astroturf and raiding the Garden of Remembrance on a busy day. Surely this must be the country’s first qualifier to the Final. However, being wedged between Russia and Cyprus isn’t going to do it any favours. 28/1 – 40/1 (steady). ****

Cyprus – Minus One – Alter Ego

Another personal favourite. You can tell these guys are hard because they’re playing their electric guitars under pylons which must contravene Health and Safety even in Nicosia. With those capes, they’ve obviously escaped from a monastic order and brought the chief Abbot’s husky along for the ride. It’s a winning combination of genuinely raw guitar work that cunningly disguises a nice piece of Thomas G:son schlager. Once that tune gets stuck in your head, it doesn’t leave without a fight. Saw them at the London Party – they’re like this in real life too. 33/1 – 100/1 (drifting slightly). ****

Austria – Zoe – Loin d’ici

The fourth in a sequence of strong songs is this delightful ditty from Austria, sung in French by an Austrian singer with Austrian parents but who was educated at the French lycée in Vienna; for no good reason apart from sheer contrariness as far as I can make out. Loin d’ici is retro, but it’s real quality retro, as Zoe channels her inner Catherine Ferry and sings of a land far from here where, searching for Paradise, they all sing. Awww. A nifty arrangement and her gamine appearance all contribute to three minutes of 1970s delight. As contemporary as a Prawn Cocktail but much more satisfying. It’s got me hooked. Of all the songs performed at the London Eurovision Party, this one went down best. Zoe was moved to tears. Her wonderful apology to the audience: “Don’t make me cry, it’s just a song for Europe.” 66/1 – 150/1 (steady). *****

Estonia – Juri Pootsman – Play

Young Juri has those typical Estonian broody looks and an expression that says if I have nothing to say I just won’t say anything. The song too has an internal brake in there somewhere that stops it from soaring. It’s a good, thoughtful lyric but with a rather reserved melody and a surprisingly dated overall sound. Is if me, or is ELO’s Mr Blue Sky trying to burst out of the chorus somewhere? On reflection – a bit boring. 100/1 – 200/1 (steady). **

Azerbaijan – Samra – Miracle

There are two types of Azeri Eurovision entry: those that grab you by the whatnots and entertain the hell out of you, and those that sink into the blandness of high production values and no substance. Sadly, Miracle falls into the latter category, with a totally forgettable verse and slightly less forgettable chorus, but it really is full of sound and fury, signifying nothing. 33/1 – 80/1 (steady). *

Montenegro – Highway – The Real Thing

For those 1% of Eurovision fans who like a bit of heavy metal or hard rock, there are two offerings this year. In Montenegro’s The Real Thing, frankly the lyrics aren’t going to win any awards, but the guitar riff that recurs with regularity throughout the song has a pretty powerful effect. Sadly, the vocals for the chorus come across as unnecessarily Neanderthal on the recording. But I like it more than I ought, and at the London Eurovision Party they completely nailed it. 200/1 – 500/1 (drifting). ***

Iceland – Greta Salome – Hear Them Calling

It’s the return of Greta Salome, on her own this time and with a song that I think I prefer to Never Forget. In the video, today Matthew, she’s going to be Loreen, all dark wind machine and pelvic exercises, so I hope she finds her own identity for the performance on the night. The verse has barely finished before the breathlessly upbeat chorus kicks in, with some weird and wonderful instrumentation that keeps you engaged throughout. We saw her at the London Eurovision Party and she certainly has a charming cheek about her. It’s not the best thing since sliced bread but it definitely deserves to qualify from this selection. 66/1 – 100/1 (drifting significantly). ****

Bosnia & Herzegovina – Dalal and Deen – Ljubav Je

Another return offender, this time Deen, who, twelve years on is no longer In The Disco, more on the balcony of some Art Nouveau cinema that’s to be redeveloped as a shopping centre. Definitely a game of two halves, with a rather alluring Balkan ballad enhanced by the lovely cello of Ana Rucner, only to be spoilt by a haranguing rap from Jala. As a clash of cultures it’s a brave attempt; it fails, but it only just fails. By trying to appeal to both young and old it will probably alienate both. The staging will be mightily important. 100/1 – 400/1 (steady). ***

Malta – Ira Losco – Walk on Water

The original winner of this year’s Maltese Eurosong, Chameleon, successfully changed its appearance (as they do) and now looks like Walk On Water, and, if Ira Losco can achieve that, it’ll be more than a seventh wonder. (Did you see what I did there?) It starts promisingly and implies deep water ahead, but when we get to the chorus, Ira’s paddling in a shallow pond. Disappointing. 14/1 – 20/1 (steady). **

So that’s the sum of the parts for Semi Final One. Eight songs won’t qualify and I’m going to suggest they will be: Finland, Greece, Montenegro, Czech Republic, San Marino, Moldova, Hungary and Estonia. Semi Final One is on BBC4 on Tuesday 10th May at 8pm. The UK can’t vote in that semi-final, so just watch for fun! And I’ll be back shortly with a preview of Semi Final Two. Bis später!