Review – Murder in the Dark, Royal and Derngate, Northampton, 16th October 2023

Posted on October 17, 2023 by therealchrisparkle

It’s a big Hurrah! from me for the return of live entertainment to the Royal and Derngate, ever since it was discovered that they were one of those theatres with aerated concrete (also known as The RAAC Pack), and have thus been closed since the beginning of September. The Derngate is due to open on the 24^th for NMTC’s Kinky Boots; no word as yet on the Underground, but my fingers remain crossed. But the delightful old Royal theatre reopened last night with Original Theatre’s touring production of Torben Betts’ Murder in the Dark. Congratulations to the R&D for opening the building sufficiently to allow the Royal to be used; they’re temporarily using the old upstairs Crown bar, so my advice if you want a drink too is not to arrive too late as it does make the whole process a little bit slower. But it’s a spectacular achievement to get the place open and functional under such difficult circumstances, and all the front of house were welcoming and helpful as always.

Murder in the Dark? Would that be a party game, where you have to work out who killed what over drinks and canapés? Or perhaps a whodunit, where the lights go out, there’s a scream, and when they turn them back on, Doctor X has killed Professor Thingy with the lead piping. As it turns out, neither. Torben Betts has created a comedy thriller-cum-horror-cum-ghost-cum-what the hell is going on here kind of show. Danny, once a successful pop star, now down on his uppers, and his girlfriend Sarah have arrived at Mrs Bateman’s exceedingly remote farm. Unintentionally, that is; it’s New Year’s Eve and he’s had an accident in the car – probably had too much to drink – and she’s kindly going to put them up for the night. His brother, son and ex-wife are also with them. There’s clearly a problem with the fuse box, as the electricity keeps coming on and going off. And that’s as far as I’m going to go with the plot – you have to come and see it for yourself to discover what happens next!

The cast are uniformly excellent, with a terrific central performance from Tom Chambers as Danny, a perpetually tormented soul who’s afraid of the dark, afraid of the farm dog – in fact, he’s afraid of almost everything. He’s matched by a funny and frequently scary performance from Susie Blake as Mrs Bateman, a character who ought to be a simple, kindly old lady – but you wouldn’t trust her an inch. There’s a strong performance from Jonny Green as Danny’s son Jake, bitterly resentful of being ignored by his father all through his childhood. Laura White is excellent as Sarah, also ignored by Danny and desperate for WiFi, Owen Oakeshott is great as Danny’s angry but loving brother William and Rebecca Charles is also very good as ex-wife Rebecca, full of commonsense and practicality, and keeping her own secrets to herself.

There’s a request in the programme that audiences keep the secrets of the story to themselves so that future audiences can enjoy the show. Absolutely, wholeheartedly agree with that. It’s also a blessing; because if you were to ask me what the secrets of the story are, I’m not sure I could tell you with any true conviction — there are so many! It’s a complex set-up, and the complexities don’t get fully revealed until the last few minutes, so that’s hugely rewarding. I’m not 100% convinced that every single aspect of the story tallies up; in fact, I’m sure they don’t. But it’s an almost unique aspect of this play that it doesn’t matter if it doesn’t all make sense – it’s almost a desirable bonus!

What does matter is that it’s an exciting, suspenseful story, with huge dollops of spookiness, presented on an eerie set, with scary sound and light effects, and some nice comic touches. It’s also completely unpredictable; when you think you’ve got it sussed, something else happens to prove you wrong, so it’s a constant guessing game where the author is always at least one step ahead of the audience. I also enjoyed a couple of obvious nods to at least two other plays, both of which will visit the Derngate auditorium early next year – I’ll say no more. Murder in the Dark plays at the Royal until Saturday 21^st October and then continues its tour to High Wycombe, Birmingham, Derby, Salford, Southend, Cambridge, Malvern, Cardiff, Cheltenham, New Brighton, Richmond and Glasgow.

Production photos by Pamela Raith

Four They’re Jolly Good Fellows!

Review – A View from the Bridge, Festival Theatre, Chichester, 14th October 2023

Posted on October 16, 2023 by therealchrisparkle

You know that old joke about a play being so good, not even a gifted director could ruin it? Welcome to Headlong’s A View from the Bridge by Arthur Miller, a co-production with Octagon Theatre, Bolton, Rose Theatre, Kingston and Chichester, where it’s currently playing at the Festival Theatre until 28^th October. Miller’s grittily realistic play concerns New York longshoreman Eddie Carbone, a tough but kind-hearted cookie who loves and cares for his niece Catherine to the point of idolising her, trying to discourage her from taking a job because he can’t fact the fact that she’s growing up. He’s married to the long suffering Beatrice, whose two cousins Marco and Rodolfo have illegally immigrated from Italy and are living a quiet (ish), secret (ish) existence in Eddie’s apartment until they can procure either American citizenship or enough money to return home to Italy and raise a family there.

Marco is the kind of man that Eddie can admire; hard-working, silent, a provider for his family. Rodolfo, on the other hand, isn’t; and when Rodolfo and Catherine start to have a relationship, Eddie’s having none of it. And what’s the worst thing you could do to immigrants that you have helped enter the country illegally? Eddie’s fate is pure Greek tragedy; his downfall coming as a result of his own blind actions and misplaced love. One of the most powerful plays written in the 20^th century, it’s insightful, emotional, agonising, heartbreaking and totally believable.

Consequently, it’s strong enough to withstand the stresses imposed on it by Holly Race Roughan’s highly stylised, fanciful production. Out goes Eddie and Beatrice’s usual basic accommodation – Miller’s stage directions describe it as a worker’s flat – clean, sparse, homely – to be replaced by a garish red neon sign that simply reads Red Hook – the name of the migrant enclave where all the Italian longshoremen lived; just in case you were to forget where the play was located, I guess. Out goes Eddie’s favourite old rocking chair and in comes a swing seat, suspended from way up high, as if the family were recreating their own version of Jean-Honoré Fragonard’s masterpiece.

In the bizarrest of all updatings, Elijah Holloway’s Louis frequently transforms himself into a ballet dancer, pirouetting nicely en pointe, drifting in and out of the action; but to no discernable purpose whatsoever. Six of us spent the weekend racking our brains trying to work out the intent behind the presence of the dancer; but nothing we thought of made sense. No criticism of Mr Holloway, but whenever he turned up I found it most rewarding simply to look away from him.

I’m normally flexible where it comes to gender-blindness in casting, but in this instance, the decision to cast Nancy Crane as Alfieri is, I think, a mistake. Again, nothing against Ms Crane, who delivers a strong performance as the lawyer, always on stage, acting the role of the Greek Chorus, constantly commenting on the action and the inevitability of its outcome. However, there’s no way that a man like Eddie Carbone would ever confide in a woman, lawyer or otherwise. The whole essence of the character is that he has a very set (old-fashioned) opinion about traditional gender roles. Men work; women keep house. Men socialise outside work; women look after babies. Eddie would never trust a woman with his deepest thoughts. He doesn’t even trust his wife or niece with those thoughts, let alone a female lawyer.

It also removes one of Miller’s carefully constructed male role-models. So much of the play is concerned with what it is to be a man; be it an unskilled labourer using his strength, or a creative artist using his talent, or an intelligent learned man using his brain, these are all ways in which a man can earn a living and provide for his family. Of course, this is not the case today, where making a living is equally applicable to both men and women. But in 1956 things were different.

Despite all these disruptions, antagonisms and distractions, Miller’s play still shines through and, in the second act particularly, arrests the audience with its riveting dialogue, growing suspense and undercurrent of violence. Much of this success is also due to the superb performances by all the members of the cast. Rachelle Diedericks’ Catherine quickly grows from a wide-eyed innocent girl into an independent young woman who knows her own mind and will not be diverted from her own wishes. Tommy Sim’aan is excellent as Marco, conciliatory at first as he tries to influence his brother into more discreet behaviour, but growing in anger as Eddie’s disrespect increases, until his fury is uncontainable. Luke Newberry gives a relatively subtle performance as Rodolfo, which keeps the audience guessing as to his true motivations for his relationship with Catherine. Nancy Crane makes for a calm and empathetic Alfieri, and there is good support from Elijah Holloway and Lamin Touray in the minor roles.

Jonathan Slinger gives a very fine performance as Eddie, his mental instability gradually growing as he can no longer keep his feelings of jealousy surrounding Catherine and scorn for Rodolfo to himself. It’s an excellent portrayal of a classic tragic hero, on an immutable course towards self-destruction. But perhaps the best performance of all is by Kirsty Bushell as Beatrice, agonisingly torn between her love for Eddie and being horrified at his behaviour, trying to do her best for everyone, no matter what it takes, and no matter what cost to herself.

A View from the Bridge has it all. The meaning of respect, loyalty, trust, and tradition; strength and bravery, assertion in one’s own beliefs; and love, in all its aspects and incarnations. What it doesn’t need are ballet dancers and swings.

Production photos by The Other Richard

Four They’re Jolly Good Fellows!

Review – Comedy Crate at the Charles Bradlaugh, Northampton, 12th October 2023

Posted on October 13, 2023 by therealchrisparkle

A slightly odd night of comedy with the Comedy Crate at the Bradlaugh on Thursday, with a hit and miss line-up and a curiously under energised audience. Our host for the night was Jesus lookalike Jay Handley, whom we saw at the British Comedian of the Year heat at the very same venue last year, when he was a huge hit. This time, he started the show with some curiously misplaced material about the homeless which I think took some of us aback. He was on firmer ground with chatting to audience members, including Jack the folk/blues band manager, and creating a mock argument about the worthiness of the charities that two different audience members worked for, only to discover they were married, leading to a delightfully embarrassed reaction sequence.

Our first act was Peter Brush, whom we’d seen once before at a Screaming Blue Murder night seven years ago and enjoyed, although I thought his act might turn out to be a little underpowered for the audience. How wrong I was – he absolutely smashed it, in the modern vernacular. Mr Brush is a retiring, quiet-looking, young-fogey type, who packs a brilliant punch with his unexpected punchlines. Beautifully self-deprecating and deliciously misleading, story after story landed perfectly showing that being mild-mannered does not result in bland comedy. I particularly loved his observations about Essex girls, turning a stereotype on its head to terrific comic effect, and his hilarious routine about what you can do with a toaster. First class!

Next up was someone new to us, Jenny Hart. Here’s where things start to get tricky. To accentuate the positive, she has a strong stage presence, excellent comic timing and is clearly a naturally funny person. She’s an out and proud transwoman – quite right too! – and integrates every aspect of that as an essential part of her routine. However, her material was not at all my cup of tea. I really don’t think I’m a prude, but I found the content of her set very crude, somewhat aggressive, and often in very dubious taste, with a couple of stories that I thought were totally unsuitable for sharing. Maybe I was way too sensitive for her material; to be fair, on the few occasions where she delivered some throwaway lines unrelated to her pre-prepared material, she made me laugh a lot. The chap in front of me absolutely loved her, and there were a few sections of the audience who were laughing riotously at her. But I’m afraid I couldn’t wait for it to end.

Our headliner was Jordan Brookes, also new to us, and what an unpredictable nugget of comedy gold he is! Breaking all the established rules by discarding the microphone, sitting among the audience, dragging a chair around the stage for every purpose apart from sitting on it, his is a fresh, constantly surprising, anarchic style, but never alienating us from either his material or his personality. As to that material, he’s one of those extraordinary performers whom you love to see and laugh at everything he says – and then the next day, you can’t remember one word of it. It’s a great way of ensuring you want to see him again! A superb ending to a slightly lopsided night of comedy.

More Comedy Crate gems to come next week when they take over V&B’s wine bar in Northampton on Tuesday. Can’t wait!

Review – The Hypochondriac, Crucible Theatre, Sheffield, 3rd October 2023

Posted on October 4, 2023 by therealchrisparkle

A new production of Moliere’s final play, translated and adapted by Roger McGough, with a rhyming script like the original? Sounds a complete hoot. And at times, it is! And at times, it isn’t. Of course, Tuesday night’s performance was a preview, so one must make all sorts of allowances. In fact the first person to enter the stage was Sheffield Theatres’ Associate Artistic Director, Anthony Lau, who reminded us that this was indeed a preview and that things were still taking shape; as well as the fact that Oliver Birch, the show’s composer, had stepped in to play Cléante at the last minute due to company sickness, script in hand, so that the show could go on. This made me very worried as to what I was about to receive. However, let me state here and now that Mr Birch is indeed one of the show’s highlights with a delightfully funny and confident performance, and were it not for the fact that he had to occasionally check the script you’d never know he was an understudy.

There’s quite a Moliere-shaped gap in my theatre experience, which was one of the reasons I was keen to see this production. Tartuffe, of course, reappears everywhere, most successfully recently with that brilliant RSC adaptation set in Birmingham. I had to read Le Bourgeois Gentilhomme as part of my French A Level; I don’t think I enjoyed it much. Moliere’s Wikipedia page lists 36 plays under the heading Major Works, so you can think of him as being pretty much level pegging with Shakespeare as far as output is concerned. Le Malade Imaginaire (1673) was his final play; largely because, one night whilst playing Argan, the eponymous hypochondriac, he had a coughing fit during the performance and died later that night of a haemorrhage. You couldn’t make it up.

Moliere’s original is a sprawling, unfocussed play. Argan argues with his maid Toinette, his doctor Purgeon, his wife Béline, and his brother Beralde; he arranges for his daughter Angélique to marry a man she doesn’t like without knowing that she wants to pursue another suitor (Cléante). Eventually he becomes convinced that there is nothing wrong with him, and celebrates this fact by wanting to become a doctor himself. All this is broken up with little songs and dances (such was the way of Moliere’s comedies-ballet). There’s little pretence to making any serious points – it’s all done for the comedy. And Roger McGough’s adaptation is largely faithful to the original storyline and to the concept of rhyming, singing and primarily doing it for the laughs.

Colin Richmond has created a tremendous set, reflecting Argan’s salon, piled high with receipts and notes, with stacks of paperwork tumbling almost out of the sky. The costumes are classic 17^th century French bourgeoisie; the harpsichord compositions feel like they could be lost works by Charpentier who wrote the original music for the play. However, McGough’s translations are distinctly 20^th century, if not 21^st; and whilst the enforced corny rhymes amuse at first, it doesn’t take long for them to pall. The trouble is, your ears get so used to expecting the rhymes that your brain starts to disengage from the words themselves and their meanings. And as soon as you recognise a rhyme, you’re waiting for the next one, and so on; becoming obsessed with the speech rhythm but not the content.

Consequently, it quickly becomes tiring, especially as there is no depth to any of it. The triteness of the lyrics was a major problem with the recent production of The Third Man at the Menier Chocolate Factory. In The Hypochondriac, that triteness is taken to a new level. McGough manages the musical element of Moliere’s original by creating his own little passages of originality, such as the speech all about the benefits of having an interval – cue time for the Interval; or indeed what would Moliere do here? or a verbal reference to the Scaffold’s very own Lily the Pink, at which everyone laughs in I see what you did there kind of recognition, but is as far away from the 17^th century setting as you can get. A little bit knowing and clever-clever for my liking.

Edward Hogg is a wily, wiry, whiny Argan, a self-obsessed wretch who likes to manipulate but is easily manipulated himself. It’s not a domineering performance; even though the play revolves completely around Argan, it doesn’t feel like the production sets Mr Hogg up as its main source of energy. That comes more from the other members of the household: Jessica Ransom’s insincere Béline, Saroja-Lily Ratnavel’s flustered Angélique, Zweyla Mitchell dos Santos’ irrepressible Toinette, and perhaps best of all Chris Hannon’s boisterous Beralde. Garmon Rhys steals the show with his beautifully over-the-top performance as unsuitable suitor Thomas Diaforius, reciting his compliments from memory and flourishing his ostentatious bow like a stampeding rhino.

If you’re expecting anything subtle or poised, I think I’d recommend booking for a different show. It’s certainly fast and furious; but on Tuesday night it felt rather ragged and a little over-hectic; hopefully it will gain a little more slickness over time. I have to say the audience gave it a massive cheer at the end. Some good performances, some overplayed enthusiasm and some tiresome language creates something of a mixed prescription for me. I can only be grateful that doggerel doesn’t quite rhyme with b*gger all.

Production photos by Manuel Harlan

Three-sy Does It!

Review – The Merchant of Venice 1936, Royal Shakespeare Company at the Swan Theatre, Stratford-upon-Avon, 26th September 2023

Posted on September 27, 2023 by therealchrisparkle

If you’re going to update Shakespeare, you might as well go for broke. And that’s exactly what Brigid Larmour and Tracy-Ann Oberman have done with their reimagined Merchant of Venice, produced by Watford Palace Theatre and Home Manchester, in association with the RSC. They have set it in the East End of London at the time of the Battle of Cable Street in 1936; this was the march organised by Oswald Mosley’s British Union of Fascists, designed to intimidate the people living in an area that contained a large number of Jewish and other immigrants. Up to 5,000 Blackshirts, maybe 7,000 police and innumerable counter-protestors clashed on the streets, and it’s considered to be the turning point where 1930s British fascism began its downfall.

Given that this took place less than ninety years ago, it is extraordinary how it has been largely forgotten or indeed, never learned by most of the population; and this production serves a very useful purpose in bringing it back into our minds. It intertwines superbly well with Shakespeare’s play, with Antonio and his friends adopting the roles of BUF activists, Portia seen as a Diana Mitford-type character, and Shylock as a Jewish outsider, emblematic of what the fascists would regard as everything that’s wrong with the country. And it’s more relevant today than ever; the news radio on the drive home after the show reported a speech by the Home Secretary that was described by an interviewee as being further to the right than anything ever said by the British National Party in its heyday.

At just two hours running time including an interval, the play is, by necessity, heavily cut. But it’s not a brutal cut; it’s a sensitive cut, keeping all the essential themes, plot threads and great speeches. Shakespeare must have sat back and congratulated himself on a good day at the office having written about The Quality of Mercy, All that Glisters is not Gold, and Hath not a Jew Eyes. Antonio, Bassanio, Gratiano, Portia and of course Shylock are all well-written, memorable characters, and this is without doubt one of Shakespeare’s Big Plays.

Unfortunately, one of the major problems with The Merchant of Venice to a modern audience is not so much the exploration of antisemitism, but the plot content of Act Five. It feels like the whole story is wrapped up after Shylock gets his (her, in this instance) come-uppance for not showing that aforementioned quality of mercy. Thus the final scenes concerning how Bassanio and Gratiano have given away their rings to “complete strangers” often appear as an afterthought – but are necessary to give way to the usual happy ever after Shakespearean comedy ending. In this production, aligning so strongly 1930s fascism with the story of Shylock and those general themes of antisemitism, racism and othering, this ending seems all the more superfluous; even though they rattle through it at breakneck speed. For me, the final scene, where the ensemble reveal their They Shall Not Pass protest on Cable Street, comes as a rather disjointed add-on. However, the cynic in me admired the device of ensuring a standing ovation at the end.

With strong use of vintage footage of the Blackshirts and newspaper headlines of the time projected on to the backdrop, Liz Cooke’s design brings you firmly into the drab, grey East End, although Portia’s glamorous outfit makes a superb contrast. The three caskets laid out on the basic kitchen trolley provide a nice visual suggestion of the idea of a stark choice, and the graffiti on Shylock’s door tells its own story.

The idea of making Shylock female is integral to the entire directorial vision of the play. Her characterisation was inspired by Tracy-Ann Oberman’s own great-grandmother, an immigrant to London from Russia to work in a factory. When you change the gender of a well-known character it inevitably makes you see that character in a new way, and this is no exception. This Shylock is a matriarch, proud and protective of her family, and even more of an outsider being a woman in a man’s world. It disgusts her to have to interact with the likes of Antonio, who has publicly reviled her in the past and avowed he will probably do so in the future, Still, business is business, and sometimes you just have to trade with your enemies. Tracy-Ann Oberman’s performance is simply a knock-out. Her presence, her expressions, the glare of her eyes, her pride, her resilience and her eventual defeat are all perfectly pitched – plus she adopts a powerful, alienating foreign accent which exemplifies her otherness. She is just superb.

I also enormously enjoyed Raymond Coulthard’s performance as both Antonio and Arragon. His Antonio is dignified, controlled, suppressed, and resigned; you almost forget he’s a fascist. As Arragon he gives us a splendid comic turn as the vain, flowery prince; more believable than a mere fop but truly wallowing in the sound of his own voice. Xavier Starr gives a terrific professional debut as Gratiano, his height emphasising a kind of lofty condescension and upper class bonhomie, but he descends into the gutter with his superbly delivered antisemitic vitriol. Hannah Morrish impresses as a rather aloof and superior Portia, later taking the guise of a very no-nonsense lawyer. There’s also excellent support from Gavin Fowler as Bassanio and Jessica Dennis as Nerissa and Mary Gobbo.

Brevity is the soul of wit, and the comparatively short running time for this production enormously helps in keeping the pace up and captivating our interest completely. If you’re expecting any kind of traditional production you may be disappointed, but this new slant is totally justified and brings a whole new insight into the play. Not perfect, but full of wow factor. After the production leaves the Swan on 7^th October, the tour continues to High Wycombe, Malvern, Bromley, Cardiff, Wilton’s Music Hall, York, Chichester and Manchester, and returns to Stratford for another three weeks in January 2024.

Production photos by Marc Brenner

Four They’re Jolly Good Fellows!

Review – The Comedy Crate Presents Troy Hawke Work in Progress, The Charles Bradlaugh, Northampton, 24th September 2023

Posted on September 25, 2023 by therealchrisparkle

Where would comedians be without the opportunity to present a Work in Progress show? The chance to try out some new material with a willing, eager audience who let you know just how funny you’ve been by the volume of their laughter – or indeed by the silence of their response. Troy Hawke had already taken a new jumble of comic ideas to this year’s Edinburgh Fringe for a few nights to sort the wheat from the chaff, in preparation for next year’s no doubt bumper blockbuster show. And on Sunday night he visited the humble folk of Northampton to give us a sneaky peek into what he’s got up his satin sleeve.

Troy Hawke is well on his way to becoming a national treasure, if he isn’t already there. Elegantly decked out en smoking, he embodies that terrific comic ability to combine refinement and poise with unexpectedly cracking punchlines, or varying his delivery from sophisticated Surrey to excitable Scouse. He effortlessly gets to know a few members of the audience, confiding in them, complimenting them (if appropriate), and, perhaps surprisingly, eliciting one couple’s safe word – yellow! (which, alarmingly, was the colour of his shirt).

The nub of his new show concerns small talk – what it really means, how it happens, and how to cope with having to do it. On the way we meet football legends Jan Molby and Jack Grealish, gain an insight into scrabble scores and discover what Troy really thinks of psychiatrists. As you might expect, there’s a good dollop of Greeters’ Guild anecdotes, as he spreads what can only be described as pure Troy outside a TK Maxx. He still needs to work up a proper ending – which is almost always a common theme with WIP progress shows – but it was a brilliant hour packed with comedy gold.

Review – The Comedy Crate at the Charles Bradlaugh, Northampton, 14th September 2023

Posted on September 15, 2023 by therealchrisparkle

It’s back for another big dollop of laughter at the Charles Bradlaugh, courtesy of those nice people at the Comedy Crate. It’s always exciting when all the acts are new to us, because the evening becomes a smorgasbord of unexpected delights. Our host for the evening was Alex Farrow, a smart super-confident chap who quickly gains a terrific rapport with the audience, and quickly elicited the fact that we were all rich beyond the dreams of avarice – well, it may have seemed that way at least. But there can’t be that many people who have access to two yachts! Very quick witted, he bounced off all the comedy nuggets that the audience gave him, and kept the show moving at an enjoyably fast pace. I made a note in my brain that we must catch his full solo show one day.

First up was Steve Hall, whose material is firmly based on his family life with his no-nonsense wife and two delightful children, who have discovered the art of homemade tattoos. There are lots of very recognisable family-based comic observations, many of which are illustrated with pictures including life from his own childhood as well as his own kids. If this sounds a little cosy, it’s peppered with many surprisingly sharp moments and there’s lots of big laugh-out-loud punchlines. An excellent start to the evening.

Next came Kathryn Mather who has wisely moved on from being a children’s entertainer. She has a nicely awkward stage persona and an excellent use of self-deprecation, talking about her lack of success with men and some entertaining stories about trying to attract the opposite sex. We hear about her (slightly predictable) encounter with the Dreamboys, and the perils of speed dating. From the sound of the laughter there was lots for women to recognise, if not quite so much for the guys. But she went down very well with the audience.

Our headliner act, and someone whose career we will definitely follow with interest, was Sarah Keyworth, a naturally funny comedian who mines comedy gold from her appearance and sexuality in an effortlessly hilarious way. She delivered not only the best pronouns gag out there, but also the best definition of non-binary, which had us all in hysterics. She has a marvellous running thread about being in a lesbian foursome, including the obligations one would feel about being the perfect host whilst entertaining three other women, and a brilliant sequence about inviting a male stripper to a hen party in a caravan in Devon. She completely blew us away with her superb audience interaction – occasionally checking in with second-row John to make sure it was going ok – and pinpoint perfect material. Another excellent night of comedy.

Review – Macbeth, RSC at the Royal Shakespeare Theatre, Stratford-upon-Avon, 11th September 2023

Posted on September 12, 2023 by therealchrisparkle

When I saw that the Royal Shakespeare Company’s new production of Macbeth was scheduled to run for over three hours, my heart sank. This is Shakespeare’s second shortest play after Comedy of Errors; so how on earth are they going to make it last three hours? I’m sure when I saw Judi Dench and Ian McKellen at the Young Vic in 1978 they did it in little over two hours. Mind you, that was the production where Dame Judi rattled through Lady Macbeth’s letter scene so rapidly that they dubbed it the telegram scene.

My heart sank further when I discovered that the porter scene was to be rewritten by Stewart Lee “because it’s not funny anymore and no one gets the jokes”. I don’t consider myself that much of a Shakespeare purist but there are limits. I was reminded of Julie Walters in the Victoria Wood sketch where the Piecrust Players are staging Hamlet. She pulls Ophelia up on her words: “That lovely line, there’s Rosemary, that’s for remembrance – it’s no good bunging a few herbs about saying don’t mind me I’m a loony. This is our marvellous bard – you cannot paraphrase.” The porter’s scene does indeed pose problems and frequently doesn’t work – but occasionally it does, if you do it really, really well. And that’s one of the challenges of staging this play.

However, having seen the show I happily confess both my reasons for heart-sinking were unfounded. Yes, this is quite a slow Macbeth, but not in a dull, laborious way. It takes the opportunity to dwell upon the silent moments in the play; the actions of the witches, the atmospheric eerie portents of the castle and the ghostly visions, not to mention the drawn-out personal battle to the death between Macbeth and Macduff. The densely packed speeches are delivered thoughtfully and respectfully, at a measured pace, allowing us all to appreciate the language and its meaning. It’s so easy to get lost in a Shakespeare production when the actors race through the words so quickly that you don’t know what’s going on. But that doesn’t happen here; the production’s careful tempo keeps the audience sticking with it all the way through.

And as for the rewritten porter’s scene; if you’re going to do something differently you might as well go the whole hog. I thought I was either going to hate it or love it; in fact, I did neither. The porter is now re-imagined as a stand-up comedian, with the obligatory microphone stand and compere introduction, addressing today’s audience with a 100% wall-breaking routine that comments on the news, politicians, and on the students watching the play for GCSE research. In a striking moment of disrespecting the audience, she mischievously gives the game away by telling us that Macbeth dies in the end. When she starts to engage Macduff and Lennox in conversation (as in Shakespeare’s original) it’s their turn to go off-piste and complain about things like woke productions and having a black actor play Othello – whatever next?

For the most part, the new sequence is pretty funny, and the audience hooted all the way through it. Apparently, there are explicit performances and non-explicit performances, depending on the date, which relate to the content of the porter’s script. We saw a non-explicit performance; but, to be honest, I don’t see the point of pussyfooting here. If you’re going to make a big splash with an innovative and offensive scene, don’t hold back. Personally, I thought it could have gone even more outrageous. However, the rewritten scene does weaken the motif of knocking in the play. It’s a relentless buzzer that disturbs the porter rather than the usual knock knock knocking, and it recurs on a few other occasions, which removes that sense of fate knocking at Macbeth’s door, or knocking at his conscience. I’m not sure a buzzing quite does the same trick.

Wils Wilson’s production truly excels in conveying a classic, eerie, dark atmosphere. Dead birds fall from the sky, discordant clangs reverberate from the on-stage musicians, rain pours down. The witches first appear as almost half-formed pupae oozing out of a hole on the stage. There’s also an artificiality that also lends a discomforting air. It’s an almost entirely bloodless production; Banquo’s ghost is a vision of pallor, Lady Macduff’s babies are puppets that get tossed between murderers until you hear an audible crack of their necks and they’re dispatched into binbags. The unwashable blood on Lady Macbeth’s hands is suggested by a red light up her sleeve. Dead bodies are calmly coaxed up and walk off the stage at the invitation of the witches. On the whole, the production doesn’t do histrionics; Macbeth’s speeches are frequently fragile, Lady M’s criticisms of her husband’s perceived weakness are quietly underplayed, and Macduff’s shock at the loss of his pretty chickens renders him almost speechless.

As you might expect, there is some trademark Royal Shakespeare Company gender-shifting amongst some of the roles, usually an opportunity to question your traditional understanding of those characters. Having the porter as a woman and one of the witches as a man works nicely. However, in other areas the concept doesn’t fully flow quite so easily for a couple of reasons. Duncan is now Queen of Scotland – even though Duncan is clearly a male name, she is definitely a woman. Banquo is also a woman, as is the unseen Thane of Cawdor, until she is executed. However, Malcolm is still a male character, even though he is played by a woman, so there’s a lack of consistency there. Perhaps even more of a problem, this production sites women in positions of power with Duncan at the top and Banquo and Cawdor as solid supporting officers; so there’s absolutely no need for Lady Macbeth to bend over backwards to encourage her husband to take the Scottish throne – she could just as easily do it herself.

Reuben Joseph is a rather reserved and controlled Macbeth, prone to flashes of petulance revealing a deep-down fragility and a tendency towards mental disorder that becomes more quickly apparent than in most productions. It’s an intelligent and calm reading of the part. For our performance, Lady Macbeth was played by Eilidh Loan, with another restrained and unhysterical characterisation, quietly dominating her husband, but primarily allowing the text to do the hard work – all whilst still retaining her usual role as a witch too, which is some feat! Anna Russell-Martin’s Banquo is a hearty soul, and Therese Bradley plays Duncan with a sunny and beneficent disposition. Amber Sylvia Edwards and Dylan Read are the other two intriguing and spooky witches, and there’s a terrific supporting performance from George Anton as Macduff – noble, respected, and thoroughly persistent. And Alison Peebles makes the role of the porter very much her own, full of cantankerous glaring and sarcasm. At our show there were a number of roles performed by understudies, and the quality of some of the performances was perhaps a little patchy as a result – but you can’t fault that level of commitment.

But it’s not the performances that linger in the mind with this production, it’s with the ominous sense of fear and eeriness where it truly succeeds. It’s a cunning blend of the traditional and the innovative, and although it may lack a little in drive and authenticity, it conjures a very powerful atmosphere.

Production photos by Marc Brenner.

Three-sy Does It!

The Points of View Challenge – Johnny Bear – John Steinbeck

Posted on September 8, 2023 by therealchrisparkle

John Ernst Steinbeck (1902 – 1968)

American novelist, and writer of short stories, non-fiction and film screenplays.

Johnny Bear, first published in the collection The Long Valley in 1938.

Available to read online here – and you can hear John Steinbeck reading it here.

This is the fourth and last story in the volume Points of View to be given the style classification by Moffett and McElheny of Memoir, or Observer Narration. From their introduction: “Memoir, or observer narration, is the hinge between autobiography and biography, first-person and third-person narration. In it we can see clearly the channels of information and the personal ties which disappear from the text when the narrator no longer identifies himself.”

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

Johnny Bear

Our unnamed narrator has arrived in the Californian village of Loma to work on constructing a ditch through a swamp, reclaiming the land for planting crops. He’s not local, so rents a room at Mrs Ratz’ house, and the only social activity there is in the evenings is to go drinking whisky at the Buffalo Bar, run by a lugubrious but charismatic man known as Fat Carl. The narrator has met a local girl, Mae Romero, but it’s just at the friendship stage. He has also befriended Alex Hartnell, who owns one of the local farms. One night in the bar, Johnny Bear walks in. He is a big, clumsy, unkempt man; the locals think of him as a half-wit. But he has a skill; he can remember and recite overheard conversations with pinpoint accuracy of both the words and voice – he has a remarkable ability to imitate. His trick is to come into the bar and ask someone to buy him a whisky, and the more he drinks, the more he recites these conversations. On their first meeting, he recites the conversation our narrator had previously had with Mae, much to the former’s embarrassment and the amusement of his friend Alex.

Obviously, Johnny Bear deliberately spies on people to hear what they are saying. On another occasion he relays a conversation between Miss Emalin and Miss Amy, the Hawkins sisters, known as the local aristocracy. Alex is upset at this; these sisters represent everything that’s good about Loma and feels they should be treated with respect. As their conversations become more wildly known, it becomes apparent that Amy’s mental health is deteriorating badly. One day the news permeates through that she has taken her own life. Johnny Bear comes into the bar and starts to reveal the final conversations she had with both Emalin and the doctor; and in attempt to protect the memory of Amy from scandal, Alex lands Johnny Bear a punch that stops him in his tracks, which escalates to a full brawl also involving Fat Carl and the narrator. In the end, we discover the vital fact that Johnny Bear was about to reveal, but Alex thinks the other people in the bar won’t have heard it.

It’s an engrossing read, with well-developed characters and a richly imagined environment so that the whole story rings true. Alex is motivated by his wish to preserve the dignity and reputation of two respectable women, whose integrity contributes so much to the good standing of the community. If it means having to descend to physical violence against an oaf who knows no better, then sobeit. In addition, it offends Alex’s values because Emalin and Amy were always kind and generous towards Johnny Bear, giving him food and clothes. But Johnny Bear doesn’t have the emotional intelligence to distinguish between repeatable conversations and unrepeatable ones. If they result in him being bought a whisky, then he’ll do it.

Alex’s actions also highlight a social unbalance, however, in that it’s unacceptable to treat these women in the way that Johnny Bear does, but having him mimicking the narrator’s private conversation, who is working class, a stranger, and without a good name to uphold, is fair game. Johnny Bear is a typical Steinbeck creation, very much in the mould of Lennie from Of Mice and Men; his gift is to speak the truth indiscriminately, whether everyone else wants to hear it or not.

I learned a new word – fumadiddle! Fat Carl is said to be not a fan of them. According to the Oxford English Dictionary, it’s a variant of flumadiddle, a mid-19^th century name for a dish made from stale bread, pork fat, molasses, and spices, baked in the oven. This came to mean nonsense, humbug, something trivial or ridiculous.

The next story in the anthology is the first of eight classified by Moffett and McElheny as biography, or anonymous narration – single character point of view, Patricia Edith and Arnold by Dylan Thomas.

Review – Never Have I Ever, Minerva Theatre, Chichester, 2nd September 2023

Posted on September 7, 2023 by therealchrisparkle

We wrapped up our bumper Chichester day on Saturday with a visit to the Minerva Theatre and the second preview of Deborah Frances-White’s new play Never Have I Ever. You know that drinking game? … Or perhaps, my more salubrious readers, you don’t. The idea is that you say Never Have I Ever and you pick an activity that you haven’t done, but anyone who has done it takes a drink. And then it’s the next person’s turn, and so on and so on, ad ebrietatem. As you can guess, it’s probably not a game you should play if you’re not 100% confident in your fellow players.

Tobin has invested money – a lot of money – in Kas and Jacq’s restaurant. Nearly two years in, Kas and Jacq have admitted defeat and are pulling the plug on the business. They’ve invited Tobin and his wife Adaego around for dinner in the restaurant to break the news that he’s lost all his cash. However, Tobin is made of money; will he be furious, or will he take it in his stride? And what happens when they take to the bottles and start playing Never Have I Ever? It’s not going to end happily, is it? “It’s just like Indecent Exposure“, more than one of my theatregoing companions said to each other.

It’s a terrific starting point for a play and Ms Frances-White has created four very dynamic characters to place at loggerheads with each other. The four were all friends from university although Tobin was by far the oldest and was working in France whilst the others were still studying and – by the sound of it – drinking heavily. The play is also, at times, extremely funny with some stand-out comedy lines which you might expect, given the writer’s experiences as a stand-up comic.

However, the play tries to take so many themes and deal with so many problems that it doesn’t really succeed in reaching any conclusions about any of them. Loyalty, trust, power, exploitation, forgiveness, privilege and revenge all play a part in this story, so it gets very intense, and as a result, sometimes the writing becomes heavy-handed and unsubtle. There are also a lot of quick scene changes designed to suggest the inevitable worsening of behaviour and increased outrageousness that a night on the vino brings – but they create an odd, stop-start sort of atmosphere, preventing the natural flow of the storytelling and character development.

Frankie Bradshaw’s set is the epitome of East London restaurant chic, each table fitted out with its own cooking range – that was the restaurant’s USP – an individual chef per table, no wonder it didn’t make money. Separating the stage floor from the theatre floor are hundreds of wine bottles, stacked around like the most enticing cellar ever, assisted by some terrific mood lighting courtesy of Ryan Day’s lighting design, which also flashes, every so often, into some very groovy, hallucinatory effects during scene changes.

All four performances are superb. Greg Wise is brilliant as Tobin, all avuncular bluster, bonhomie and woke-and-proud-of-it; until he discovers some news that he’d preferred to have not to known and then the change in his character becomes darkly sinister. Susan Wokoma’s Adaego is super-confident, comfortable in her skin, pushing the way forward for other women of colour. Alex Roach’s Jacq is rather cynical, working through anger management issues and prepared to think outside the box. Amit Shah plays Kas as unassuming, practical and placatory – but only to an extent; he, too, has a massive secret to get off his chest. The four work together tremendously well to get the best out of the outlandish predicament that Ms Frances-White has created for them, and deliver those great lines with terrific comic panache.

I came away from the play wishing it had been written in a slightly subtler way. It certainly doesn’t shy away from some serious moral issues, but it does come down heavily on one side of the argument/predicament, whereas in real life I think there are more shades of grey going on here than the writing suggests. The person who has two reasons to be angry and consider themselves the wronged party is the person who becomes the baddie; it reminded me of Shylock, seeking punishment greater than the crime merits. It’s a play with loads to think about and plenty to laugh at, but it does get pretty hectic at times. To reiterate, the performance we saw was a preview but I doubt it has changed much over the last three days.

Production photos by Helen Murray

Three-sy does it!