Tag Archives: Chichester

Review – The Government Inspector, Festival Theatre, Chichester, 10th May 2025

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Back in those boring Covid pandemic days, I realised that I’d never read any Gogol, and decided that was a situation that needed rectifying. So I downloaded his short stories onto my Kindle for free, and spent many a happy hour laughing my head off at his hilarious, thoroughly rude observations, pricking the pomposity of the pretentious, and noting how, two hundred years on, his truths live on and nothing much has changed.

I’d seen a production of his The Government Inspector in 2011, and although it was something of a critical success, I wasn’t overly impressed. It was a sloppy show that went for cheap laughs and camped it up over the top, even though it thought itself to be a true smartypants of a production. Surely, Chichester, with a new version directed by Gregory Doran, will do a slicker job of it. I assumed.

This production has gone – largely – for a traditional approach, with a truly 1830s setting, costumes and music. The opening scene shows much promise, with all the officials of the town in a panic because a government inspector is in their midst and they all fear he will root out their corruption, bribe taking and inefficiency, thereby ruining their lovely lives. In true Gogol style, no time is wasted getting to the heart of the play, and it’s performed with urgency and commitment. Good start.

However, then everything just grinds to a complete halt. Whilst the audience is now ready to see this government inspector for themselves, Gogol instead introduces us to the mayor’s wife and daughter, bickering petulantly and tediously about nothing much. And the pace that had been built up in the first scene instantly collapses. It’s not a very funny conversation and it doesn’t get many laughs. By the time the scene is over and we go on to the inn where the Inspector (it isn’t the inspector by the way – it’s a joke of mistaken identity) and his man are staying with no intention of paying for their board and lodging, it’s amazing how little we care about any of them. As the play progresses, we realise how completely unlikeable every character in the story is, and no amount of pomposity-pricking is going to do anything to improve it.

The staging doesn’t help; the opening scene ranges widely over the huge Festival Theatre stage, using every inch available; but the second scene is very static and just takes place on two chairs at the front, and the third scene is crammed into a tiny part of the stage, which literally prevents its characters from breathing. You feel you want to somehow release them from their confinement.

A fool and his money are soon parted, goes the saying, and that is at the heart of the play. Each town officer does his best to bribe Khlestakov, the (non-) inspector, and as that wretch realises what is going on, his requests for money get bigger and bigger. At the end, the entire town has made an idiot of itself, and our anti-hero has sped off, cash in hand, looking for some other sad saps to dupe. It’s a very credible cautionary tale. But this production is most definitely not the sum of its parts. Too much shouting, inadequate use of the stage, some roles bizarrely underplayed whilst others are overplayed, it feels very unbalanced. There’s not enough light and shade, and despite their best efforts you never really get an understanding of the peril that the townspeople face. Individual rounds of applause are reserved for the three musicians who pop up during scene changes, and for an amusing but hardly original design trick of having a little carriage dart all around the stage, depicting the escape of the villainous clerk Khlestakov and his servant Osip. I saw that done in On The Twentieth Century in 1978 – it was mildly amusing then and it’s mildly amusing now.

True to Gogol, the play ends with a final tableau for what feels like at least a minute, daring individual audience members to start the final applause, whilst most of us just sit uncertain and uncomfortable at what we’re seeing. Whilst I admire this faithfulness to the original text, it does put the audience through an ocean of odd reactions and emotions, and you just want to look away!

There are some successful performances – Lloyd Hutchinson is good as the Mayor, a fiery mass of anxiety and overconfidence, and Miltos Yerolemou and Paul Rider work together excellently as Bobchinsky and Dobchinsky, the two minor officials who are almost two parts of the same body. Nick Haverson gives the best performance of all as Osip, the servant, ruthlessly and viciously putting his own interests first, no matter what his master wants.

Sylvestra le Touzel and Laurie Ogden play the mother and daughter looking and sounding like Mrs Slocombe and Liz Truss, which is an alarming visual prospect; for me, their performances never felt credible or, sadly, entertaining. Tom Rosenthal’s Khlestakov is a competent performance but neither larger than life enough to convince us of his importance, nor measly enough to convey truthfully that he is a smalltown clerk.

I’ve never seen a Saturday night Festival theatre audience so empty, and I’m afraid it was even emptier after the interval. The comedy gets lost in the franticness, and this production simply doesn’t work.

 

Two Disappointing For More!

Review – The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry, Minerva Theatre, Chichester, 10th May 2025

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Our summer Chichester season for 2025 kicked off with a new musical based on Rachel Joyce’s book, The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry, with music and lyrics by Passenger and the book by Joyce herself. I’m not familiar with the original novel, which was longlisted for the 2012 Man Booker Prize, nor the film of 2023 starring Jim Broadbent, nor the musical back-catalogue of Passenger, so I approached the show with no expectations or preconceptions whatsoever – often a good thing.

A deceptively simple story, it tells the tale of the retired Harold Fry who, having received a letter out of the blue from an old friend and work colleague, Queenie, saying that she’s now living in a hospice in Berwick upon Tweed, decides, on a whim, to walk all the way from Devon to Berwick to visit her. On his way, he meets various people whose lives he enriches by his kindness and simple determination, and who in turn affect him and his view of the world. His influence grows and he becomes so inspirational that he’s an unintentional Insta sensation! Initially it infuriates his wife, Maureen. Their marriage had become stale and grumpy because of a breakdown in communication, but eventually both come to terms with a re-evaluation of their lives.

Samuel Wyer’s design for the show is also simple and straightforward; a bare stage, but with tables, chairs, shop fronts, front doors, and so on all rapidly wheeled on and off to suggest the various locations of the story. Katy Rudd’s ensemble of actors all work their socks off to get the settings into position, bringing props on and off the stage with impressive dexterity; and there are some terrifically unexpected costume changes, such as when “Garage Girl” sheds her shop assistant’s uniform to reveal a shiny, glitzy blue tasselled outfit worthy of Diana Ross and the Supremes.

It’s a very charming, emotional, show; closer to The Hired Man than 42nd Street, but you probably guessed that already. All the characters in the story go on a journey, not just Harold and his big trek, but all the people he meets en route; and it’s not just a physical journey. All those aspects of ourselves that we never have the time or opportunity in everyday life to consider, those abilities or talents, those hidden passions, those secret truths, all come out along the way. It’s always rewarding when, at the end of a play, a book or film, you’ve been taken to a different place from where you went in, and The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry does that with great success.

The music truly helps us all on the journey, with delightful songs that move the story forward. Three such gems are Walk Upon the Water, which encourages Harold to have the courage of his convictions, Shout it From the Rooftops when the Silver Haired Gentleman is convinced that it’s finally time for him to be honest about his sexuality, and Such is Life, sung by the Farmer’s Wife, which is one of the most positive statements I’ve ever heard about coming to terms with childlessness. The style of music also heavily suggests countryside, not just bucolic bliss, but nature red in tooth and claw too. There’s nothing romantic or tranquil about the state of Harold’s feet after walking that far. And there are lessons to be learned about the power of thought too.

The production boasts some terrific performances. Jack Wolfe, just about the only good thing about the RSC’s ghastly Magician’s Elephant a few years ago, here plays “The Balladeer”, a kind of spirit character who both encourages and influences Harold on his journey as well as narrating the story. He has a fragile, ethereal stage presence perfect for the role and a brilliant voice to boot. His significance develops as the tale unfolds, but I’m not going to spoil that revelation for you.

Sharon Rose is also superb in the roles of Garage Girl and Kate, a powerful, comedically gifted performer with a great voice and presence. Tarinn Callender excels in many roles but particularly as Wilf, Fry’s number one Pilgrim. And there’s fantastic support from Amy Booth-Steel as the Farmer’s Wife, Queenie and other roles, Don Gallagher as the Silver Haired Gentleman and the dreadful Mr Napier, Madeleine Worrall as Sister Philomena at the hospice, and knock-out puppetry from Timo Tatzber who brings “Dog” to life with such character and lovability.

The always tremendous Jenna Russell is on top form as Maureen, although it is a shame that she has so few singing opportunities; and Mark Addy is excellent as Harold, the pivotal character to whom things happen rather than his making them happen. His is a curious character in many regards, perhaps more notable for what he is not than what he is; but Mr A commands the stage with natural authority.

It tells its story clearly and packed with emotion – there’s a desperate rush for the Handy Andies at the end, so be warned. A very clever combination of the powerful and the gentle which makes you feel just that little bit more hopeful for mankind at the end.

P. S. Neighbour Rex traces Fry halfway around the country and meets up with him so that Maureen can Facetime him; Harold left in such a hurry he forgot to take his mobile with him. But why the heck doesn’t Rex bring Harold’s phone, to give him? It makes no sense! That blip in the logic of the piece really annoyed me!

P. P. S. I humbly suggest they could do with changing the title of the song, You’re Fucked. Not through any sense of prudishness, but they ought to take a leaf out of A Chorus Line’s book. In that show’s early try-outs, people would look at the programme before the show, see that there was a song called Tits ‘n’ Ass, have a good chuckle about it, and then not laugh much when it appeared during the show. They then decided to rename it Dance Ten Looks Three so that the surprise could be hidden until the last moment. Similarly, the audience for Harold Fry has a good chuckle when they see there’s a song called You’re Fucked; as a result, that means it has less of an impact during the show. Just call it The Doctor’s Song instead!

4-starsFour They’re Jolly Good Fellows

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

4-starsFour They’re Jolly Good Fellows!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

4-starsFour They’re Jolly Good Fellows!

 

Review – The Cat and the Canary, Minerva Theatre, Chichester, 2nd October 2024

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The Cat and the Canary, which closes the Chichester Summer Festival for 2024, is a co-production with Told By An Idiot, whose previous work has always specialised in the wackier forms of comedy but with a serious underlying message. This popular old story, that first came to light over a hundred years ago, ought to be the perfect vehicle for the company, with its combination of humour, shock horror and downright silliness. But does it work?

Carl Grose’s adaptation transports the setting to somewhere near Bodmin Moor, but otherwise keeps the basics of the original, with a scary old house miles from anywhere, a diverse bunch of extraordinary house guests, eccentric old retainers, and the obligatory filthy weather outside. It’s time to read the will of Cyrus West who died ten or twenty years ago (not sure when – nor do we know why it wasn’t read when he died, but, hey ho) and to discover which of his money-grabbing relatives is going to get all the dosh. It is revealed that the inheritance all goes to one person, unless they are not of sound mind, in which case there is an alternative arrangement. However, before the will is read, solicitor Crosby discovers that it had already been discovered in its secret hiding place and opened and read by a person or persons unknown. It’s just not cricket.

I should point out that the performance I saw was the final preview, but I can’t imagine much will have changed between then and the press night. There are plenty of things that this production does well, and quite a few where it most surprisingly doesn’t. Let’s start with the positives.

It’s a very funny script, including one line which made me laugh possibly more than any other line in a play all year: the set-up is the housekeeper asking the pompous actor if he was scared of finding himself in a big, gloomy house – I won’t spoilt it with the punchline, but the production gets an extra star for that. The cast all give fully charged, committed performances including a few examples of tremendous physical comedy. Nick Haverson’s flipping between the two roles of Crosby and Hendricks is done tremendously well, and I did enjoy Lena Kaur’s Susan Sillsby’s outrageous drunk routine. And there are some inspired pieces of comic invention, such as Mr Haverson abandoning his drum set and descending to the stage using a fireman’s pole, for absolutely no reason other than the fact that he can.

But there’s the rub; there are several comic interventions and directorial decisions that are done just because they can, and with no relevance that I could make out to the play or story itself. There is an occasional appearance of a Red Riding Hood type puppet that looks and feels spooky but doesn’t seem to have any connection to the rest of the plot. The final scene involves a red curtain being brought across the back of the stage and a character going behind it and popping her head through the curtains for some comic business. Then, lights out, finita la comedia. Not the remotest clue what that was about.

The play is only about two hours long including a twenty minute interval, so it feels very uneven to have a first act that’s over an hour and a second act that’s all done and dusted in thirty-five minutes – shades of Glengarry Glen Ross there. The denouement, if you can call it that, feels very rushed in that brief second act. It comes on you unexpectedly and totally lacking suspense, so that the whodunit revelation makes you think – is that all?

Technically, it’s an odd decision to make the offstage cast members getting into place at the back of the stage so visible to the audience; as a result, no appearance coming through the door is ever a surprise. But perhaps the biggest fault of all is that the blocking is terrible. We had fairly central seats in Row C and so many of the scenes were rendered invisible by actors standing immobile in our sightline.

Truly a curate’s egg. A lovely sense of the ridiculous – that’s undeniable, and with some excellent spooky effects and a script that sometimes sparkles sensationally. But less is often more, and throwing the kitchen sink at this production devoids it of any sense of danger or tension. This tale told by an idiot really does signify nothing, unfortunately. That said, I did laugh a lot, so it does something right!

3-starsThree-sy Does It!

Review – Redlands, Festival Theatre Chichester, 2nd October 2024

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“I f**king love the Witterings,” asserts Keith Richards from the dock, explaining why he bought a 15th century baronial manor house (with moat) – that’s the Redlands of the title – in the heart of leafy West Sussex, during his 1967 trial alongside Mick Jagger for drug-related offences at Chichester Crown Court. That little statement expresses perfectly the delightful class-based friction that gives this story a delicious edge. No better theatre then, nor indeed audience, for Charlotte Jones’ unusually structured but extremely entertaining play that brought the Rolling Stones under the gaze of the West Sussex Constabulary in a trial where the two stars were defended by one Michael Havers, QC, later Attorney-General and Lord Chancellor under Margaret Thatcher’s Prime Ministership.

In fact, this is virtually two plays, neatly dovetailed together, but possibly misleadingly if you’re expecting a play about Jagger and Richard. In fact, the most significant characters in the play are Michael Havers and his son, wannabe actor, Nigel Havers (yes, the Nigel Havers), and their fractious, distant relationship. It’s not that Havers Senior doesn’t like or value his son – although he finds it hard to accept that the latter doesn’t want to work in the law like everyone else in the family – it’s primarily that the QC is such a busy man, and so work-oriented, that he simply hasn’t the time to be interested in him. Mind you, Havers Senior shows himself to be a typical stuffed shirt when he refuses to allow young Nigel to attend the lunch table dressed in the Kings Road’s fashions of the day. It’s left for Michael’s father, Sir Cecil Havers (Bongo to his friends) to give Nigel moral support by going to Lord’s together, boosting his confidence and generally getting down with the kids – Bongo is nothing if not a barrel of laughs.

Secondary to the Havers dynasty, the play next concentrates on the effect of the Redlands court case on Marianne Faithfull, Jagger’s current flame, referred to as Miss X during the trial. She was present when the police made the drugs raid and felt that she was equally if not more responsible than Mick and Keith – but Havers refused to let her testify. Whilst Havers was able to lodge a successful appeal against the sentence that Jagger and Richard received, Faithfull laments that her name will never be cleared – and she does indeed come across as the person who loses the most in the whole story. As for Jagger and Richard – all publicity is good publicity, and they never looked back. Charlotte Jones sets the date of the sentencing appeal on the same day that young Nigel is to take his audition to study at RADA, intertwining both elements of the story into an emotional finale.

Ms Jones enjoys wringing every possible local connection out of the text, with news reporters describing the local community as largely decent, and Keith Richards describing the people surrounding him as old (at which point he gestures to the overwhelmingly geriatric Festival Theatregoers); she also gives her central character of Nigel Havers the role of narrator, talking directly to the audience throughout, acknowledging that he’s on the stage of the Festival Theatre – right here in Chichester – and he even points out the audience to his father at the end of the show, who’s astonished to discover that there’s been a thousand or so of us watching him from the very start. It’s a fun concept that doesn’t really hold water, but we play along with it because it’s very shapely and lends a nice surreal air to everything going on. To be frank, there’s not much verisimilitude in the production; after all, the Stones did not break from the court case to perform a rock number in front of the Judge with dancing police officers. But it is entertaining to see how a gifted barrister like Michael Havers could spin the facts in his questions to the police and Jagger and Richard (a.k.a. the boys) so that the former come across as conniving targeting entrappers and the latter as sweet-natured innocent lads.

Joanna Scotcher’s multi-level set reserves a largely empty space downstage for Havers’ home and office and the courtroom, and a curtained-off hidden upstage area for Stones performances and a dream sequence. It works, for the most part; perhaps it looks a little clumsy when characters who have nothing to do with the musical performances, like Havers’ office staff, enter the stage by revolving out from behind the half-raised curtain. Ryan Dawson Laight’s costumes are excellent, creating some very believable 60s fashions alongside the stiff and starchy legal types. I could really aspire to a pair of Keith Richards cuffs.

The performances are all superb; hats off to Louis Landau (Nigel Havers) and Jasper Talbot (Mick Jagger) on their stage debuts, both extremely convincing portrayals of the younger versions of people we all know and love. Mr Talbot’s on stage Jagger is pure entertainment and almost a snapshot of the original’s iconic performances. Anthony Calf does a first rate job as Michael Havers; authoritative, genial in a condescending sort of way, flustered by what he doesn’t understand – a strangely vulnerable large cog in a very traditional wheel.

Emer McDaid stands out as Marianne Faithfull; self-confident because of her upbringing but powerless against the might of the law. Her singing voice is very reminiscent of the early Faithfull, and her brief rendition (together with Mr Landau) of Ruby Tuesday brings a lump to your throat. There’s terrific support from Olivia Poulet as the increasingly assertive Carol Havers, brilliant attitude from Brenock O’Connor as Keith Richards, and a typically scene-stealing performance from Clive Francis bringing all the irrepressible fun out of the character of Bongo as he can muster; he’s got a tambourine, and he’s not afraid to use it.

This is an undoubtedly odd play; in some ways neither one thing nor the other. But the drama and music elements subtly combine to make a thoroughly entertaining whole, and you’ll be so tempted to take a diversion via West Wittering on the way home. A plea to Front of House: please make more of your requests before the show for everyone to turn off their mobiles. I’ve never heard so many phones going off during a performance before and it really killed the mood a few times.

4-starsFour They’re Jolly Good Fellows!

Review – The Spy Who Came in From the Cold, Minerva Theatre, Chichester, 3rd September 2024

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I’ve come to the conclusion that the world consists of two types of people; those who understand spy stories, and those who don’t. Much as I would like to be part of that first group, I fear I’m one of the latter. I’ve never read a John Le Carré novel, and I never got into all that Tinker Tailer Soldier Spy stuff on TV either. So I am probably the wrong demographic to comment on Chichester’s new production of The Spy Who Came In From The Cold. But when did that ever stop me before?

Le Carré, of course, was a real spy (don’t worry, I’m not the first to blow his cover) so one can only assume that everything in the books – and indeed as portrayed in this stage adaptation by David Eldrige – is pretty realistic. Worn out agent Alec Leamas is given one last job by his control – to return to East Germany, where he had been “our man”, and pose as a defector. However his real job is to frame one Hans-Dieter Mundt, ex-Stasi officer and head of the Abteilung, as a double agent. Naturally, things don’t go according to plan.

Jeremy Herrin’s crisp production looks suitably bleak and comfortless from the outset, with Riemeck’s upturned bike representing its owner’s early departure from this world. George Smiley stands aloof for much of the play, observing the activity below from a balcony, where he has presumably gone to retire (clue – he hasn’t retired.) The sets and props are minimalist, allowing our imaginations to fill in the gaps. Ominous, frequently threatening background music composed by Paul Englishby adds to the unsettling atmosphere.

David Eldrige’s script assumes a basic knowledge of the world of Smiley, which I clearly don’t have. I appreciated and enjoyed the introductory scene where the various characters are introduced with their political backgrounds and how they feature in the story landscape. But terms like Praesidium and Circus and Abteilung meant nothing to me, and although you can make a good guess as to their relevance, I felt I was backfooted from the start, and mentally constantly running to keep up with my understanding of what was going on.

There are time changes in the story too, which don’t help when you’re already somewhat at sea. Fortunately, I don’t feel too bad about that, because judging from the overheard comments of other theatregoers at the end of the show, I was far from the only one to have only a slight grip on exactly what happened; once I had read the Wikipedia synopsis of the book so much more of it made sense – but surely, that shouldn’t be necessary? However, there’s no doubt that the adaptation succeeds in emphasising the amorality of this spy world, and the double-crossing continues right until the very end.

Rory Keenan is excellent as Leamas throughout. Down-at-heel, down-at-heart, cynical through and through; he’s exactly how you would expect a world-weary spy to look and behave. Ian Drysdale is also great as Control – if this was James Bond, I think he would be M – effortlessly polite, ruthlessly persistent, concealing a vicious interior beneath a gentlemanly façade. The ever-reliable Philip Arditti is great as Fiedler, Mundt’s second in command, especially in the courtroom scene. And Agnes O’Casey is a very believable Liz, the proudly communist librarian who gets entangled in a love affair with Leamas.

For me it was a production that asked more questions than it answered. I’ve no idea why, for example, for most of the play some of the characters were seated at the back of the stage waiting for entrances whilst others weren’t. And although I was always engrossed by what was going on, that’s possibly because of the top quality acting and cat-and-mouse conversations rather than anything to do with the plot itself. If you’re a Smiley aficionado, you’ll love it; if you’re a Le Carré virgin, read a synopsis before seeing the show – it will help.

3-starsThree-sy Does It!

Review – Oliver! Festival Theatre, Chichester, 3rd September 2024

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With the mighty Matthew Bourne directing and choreographing this year’s big summer musical at Chichester, it was never very likely that their new production of Lionel Bart’s Oliver! would be anything other than a smash hit. And there’s no point my keeping the suspense up that it might not be as successful as you would imagine – because it is!  Every inch a phenomenal production: the timeless, riveting story, combined with the irresistible songs (Every 1’s a winner, as Hot Chocolate might have said), Graham Hurman’s awesome orchestra, Lez Brotherston’s (who else?) sets and a perfectly cast group of actors portraying some of the most memorable characters in English literature, what more could you ask? Prepare to enjoy one of those sensational theatrical experiences that you’ll remember for a very long time.

One of the most marvellous aspects of this production is the tremendous lighting design by Paule Constable and Ben Jacobs; constantly atmospheric, always helping the story along, mixing menacing darkness with illuminated beauty where you might not expect to find it. Fagin and Dodger’s long walk home at the end of the show, for example, into the slowly revealing lights of London, provides a superb final scene. And how clever and creative to represent the dog Bullseye simply by an ominous shadow following a wall to his master’s voice!

Matthew Bourne’s choreography, of course, fits both the characterisations and the space available perfectly, with deliciously ebullient actions for the Artful Dodger, slyly wheedling moves for Fagin, and athletically rumbustious movements for the chorus of workhouse boys and Fagin’s gang. All the kids performed immaculately, and with pinpoint precision; we were treated to the Wapping group of young actors at our performance – I’m sure the Bethnal Green and Limehouse youngsters are equally irresistible.

It takes a Fagin of rare quality to make you feel sorry for him; but Simon Lipkin’s performance is so outstanding that you genuinely do sense he has reviewed the situation and realises that the reality of his life has no future. An extraordinary stage presence, he gives us a Fagin who is totally believable, as much a victim as those from whom he steals; a Fagin low on cynicism but high on caring and protecting his workforce. The big finale scene at the end, including the deaths of Nancy and Bill (sorry, spoilers), and the reuniting of Oliver with Mr Brownlow, also includes Fagin losing his footing on the bridge which upsets his treasure chest so that his precious trinkets twinkle their way down to be swallowed up by the river; and even though you knew that every single one of those jewels was stolen, you still feel sorry for him. Amazing work.

Shanay Holmes is a vulnerable, affectionate, big-hearted Nancy with a luscious voice, delivering all her songs with power and emotion, none more so than the evergreen As Long As He Needs Me which painfully drives home her conflict about loving a violent thug who has no hesitation about beating her. Talking of whom, Aaron Sidwell is superb as Bill; wiry, fired-up, irrationally explosive and terrifyingly unpredictable. I’m an admirer of convincing stage combat, and you’ll never see it done better than by Mr Sidwell with the fiendish smack he gives Nancy; and when he nuts Fagin on the head, we all feel it.

Elsewhere, Oscar Conlon-Morrey gives us a vindictively prissy but also disgustingly smarmy Mr Bumble; Katy Secombe’s Widow Corney turns from simpering sex-kitten to vicious fishwife with one whiff of a wedding ring; Stephen Mattews and Jamie Birkett make a thoroughly gruesome pair of Sowerberries; and Philip Franks is a very warm and approachable Mr Brownlow – you can imagine that Oliver will definitely thrive with his parenting skills.

At our performance, we saw Rudy Gibson bring all the Artful Dodger’s legendary showmanship and bonhomie to the fore with a terrifically brash and extraverted performance; and our Oliver was Raphael Korniets,who convincingly plays up the wide-eyed innocence of his character and has a stunning voice to boot.

The whole show knocks your socks off; there isn’t one misjudged moment nor a hair out of place throughout the whole performance. The Chichester run is now completely sold out, but the production will be returning to the West End at the Gielgud Theatre from 14th December.

 

Five Alive Let Theatre Thrive!

Review – The Caretaker, Minerva Theatre, Chichester, 27th June 2024

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The Caretaker was one of the first Harold Pinter plays I read when I was just about old enough to appreciate the art of reading a play; I always knew it was a superb piece of writing – but it has taken me till now to see those words in action for myself. The programme to this production features insights into and photos of various scintillating productions that have taken place over the years – and somehow, I managed to miss out on them all.

Don’t ask what the play’s about, because on paper it’s unimpressive. A man gives a homeless man a bed for a few nights in a dingy flat that he and his brother share. After a while, they decide the arrangement isn’t working; they ask him to leave. That’s it. You can only marvel at Pinter’s ability to build in suspense, comedy, compassion, heartache and so many other emotions to such a slight plot; as always with Pinter, it’s the interactions between the characters, the gradual revelation of personality and motivations, and simply the things that aren’t said that are at least equally as eloquent as his words.

Sixty-four years on, and it remains a beautiful play; and I appreciated the way Justin Audibert’s magnificent production hasn’t altered the text at all, apart from including just one interval to create a two act play out of a three-acter. There’s no disguising the tramp’s prejudices to which he gives ready voice even though today we’re queasy at his comments; the brothers hear these comments with neither consent nor surprise. It’s 1960 – such was the flavour of the age.

Aston is too caught up in his own mental torture to register much of what Davies says, apart from doing his best to help him in whatever practical way he can – provided he can have his vital, restorative sleep. Mick, on the other hand, is a coiled spring of cynicism and distrust, tempting Davies to be disloyal to Aston so that Mick can pounce on him and deliver punishment, both physical and mental. Davies is caught between the two, willing to go along with anything either of them says if he feels it can gain him some preferment; whether that is a pair of decent shoes, a smoking jacket, or simply a dry roof over his head. It’s when he tries too ambitiously to play one brother off against the other that he simply takes a step too far.

Stephen Brimson Lewis has created a gloomy, intricate, claustrophobic set from which you can almost smell the dirt and the damp. A minute amount of light comes through the grimy window with its filthy half-curtain. Old bits of machinery, stacks of magazines, all the detritus of Aston’s wasted life, litter the room; everything is as broken as he is. The costumes show excellent attention to detail, with two indeed very decent looking pairs of shoes on offer to Davies, and a luxurious smoking jacket that stands out a mile as being at odds with its repulsive environment.

There’s nowhere to hide in this dark, intense environment, and it needs top quality committed performances to do justice to the writing and to serve the heritage of this play. Justin Audibert’s trio of actors are simply superlative in every way. I’d only seen Aden Gillen in TV’s Benidorm before – and you couldn’t get a more different performance. Radiating damage in every movement and every syllable, his Aston never wavers in tone or emphasis, quietly going about his business, whether it’s tinkering with a plug or going out on errands. His long speech that comes just before the interval – one of Pinter’s most excruciating and yet beautiful pieces of writing – commands our attention from the very start and draws us in to his anguish over the shock treatment he was given; a cliché, I know, but you could hear a pin drop. It’s a stunning performance.

Jack Riddiford also gives a performance of fantastic power, His Mick is a vision of thinly disguised enmity, a streetwise smart-arse who revels in the sepia-tinged faux-romanticism of memories of people and places around London, whether it be Putney or Caledonian Road, Shoreditch or Finsbury Park; harking back to a kind of Blitz spirit mentality where life was somehow more free and idealistic. Mr Riddiford superbly conveys that Pinteresque wallowing in the past, but also the desire for quality, as when he rounds on Davies accusing him of not being a fully professional experienced interior designer. Always unpredictable as to the level of aggression he shows, if you knew him in real life you’d give him a really wide berth.

As Davies, Ian McDiarmid brings all his years of experience and skill to his characterisation of this wretched, slippery, self-deceiving man, shuffling around the stage to show how his shoes aren’t good enough, preening in his smoking jacket, stunned into a pathetic wheedling when he realises his interpersonal tactics aren’t going the way he wanted. At two months before his 80th birthday, Mr McD gives a subtle, believable, humorous and ultimately heart-breaking performance that stays in the mind long after the show comes down.

If I were to have imagined the perfect production and casting of the play in my mind’s eye, this would be it. It’s playing at the Minerva Theatre until 13 July, but it would be a tragedy if the production didn’t have a future life.

 

Five Alive Let Theatre Thrive!

Review – The House Party, Minerva Theatre, Chichester, 4th May 2024 (Preview)

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Strindberg’s Miss Julie was first staged in 1889, and has always been a source of fresh theatrical material, crying out for new directors to have a stab at it, to keep it relevant and contemporary, and to play around with it to get something new out of it. In fact, it was only ten years ago that a new version by Rebecca Lenkiewicz was produced on the very same Minerva stage, preserving the structure and roles of the original play but with 21st century bite.

Now it’s Laura Lomas’ turn, with her version of the play now called The House Party, co-produced with two of the best production companies around, Headlong and Frantic Assembly, and directed by Holly Race Roughan with her usual feel for a quirky twist. Set in her father’s kitchen, Julie’s wishes dominate all domestic proceedings, including the house party that’s arranged for later that day – hence the title of the play. She’s besties with Christina, who has an interview at Cambridge University in the morning; her beloved and trusted boyfriend Jon is going to drive her there.

Christina and Jon have a good thing going, but Julie is never one to miss a chance to stir things, and when Jon confesses to Julie that he used to fancy her five years earlier when his mum used to come and clean for her dad, she doesn’t dissuade him from – if I may be so crude, gentle reader, thinking with his d*ck. Successfully having ruined the fairytale dreams of her friend, the usual Miss Julie tragic consequences ensue, with heartache, broken trust, livid arguments and a suicide attempt.

Unlike the original, Ms Lomas’ version bookends the classic one-act structure of the play with two extra scenes. In the first, we see Julie and Christina gearing up for the party, a pair of giggling girls preparing to have fun. This allows us to see deeper into the characters and assess for ourselves the extent of their friendship and the risks that either of them might be prepared to take in order to get their own way. The final scene offers us what you might consider to be an alternative ending to the traditional play, but to save the impact that the writer wants it to achieve, I’m not going to say any more about it – don’t want to spoil any surprises for you.

Loren Elstein’s set design is impressive; the stage is dominated by a superb, sleek, top-of-the-range kitchen island that includes concealed wine fridge, dishwasher, cupboards and so on. It emphasises beautifully just how rich Julie’s dad must be to have an enviable kitchen like this; all the best equipment, and a worktop to die for. Upstairs is a bathroom, all modern opaque window wall, like an ensuite in the finest Oberoi hotel bedroom. A statement-making lamp hovers over the plush white sofa (White? What were they thinking?!) and that’s all that’s necessary to suggest this ultra-privileged, ultra-modern lifestyle.

One of my favourite mantras about theatre is that I would prefer to see a brave failure more than a lazy success. It’s very subjective as to what constitutes both failure and success in those terms; there’s absolutely nothing lazy about this production at all, but it doesn’t work 100%. It is, however, very brave in its concept, and despite its failures (I think there are a couple) it’s extremely enjoyable and watchable. Here’s the first problem: this production has a gimmick, which is that audience members form part of the house party guests. Once the prologue is finished and the party gets underway these audience members emerge from behind a darkened screen where they have been watching and waiting like an eerie ghostly presence, filing out into a selection of sofas, seats, chairs and benches.

I must be honest; the on-stage seats look incredibly uncomfortable, as did the poor members of the public as they blundered about the stage trying to find spare seats. It’s a risky undertaking by the production to stage it this way; you fully rely on these audience members to play ball and behave. Bizarrely, it makes zero difference to how we appreciate the play anyway. The only effect it has is to raise a small accidental laugh when audience members have to budge up on the big sofa whilst actors try to squeeze themselves into whatever gap has appeared between them.

Admittedly, in Strindberg’s original, there is a ball taking place off-stage but it rarely intrudes upon the meat of the story. In this production, however, the party takes centre stage, with dynamic dancing and music and light effects, and the constant presence of the audience members who are party hangers-on reminds us all the way through of the fun and games that is happening elsewhere. But the whole notion of the party is completely irrelevant to the story and the dramas that emerge between the three main characters. The final scene, which constitutes a twenty-minute second act, causes those audience members to feel even more surplus to requirement; that party has long finished. Structuring the production on the party is frankly pointless, and although the party dancing is admirably and acrobatically performed, it has no place in the show at all. It’s just a distraction.

The second failure is the fact that the final scene exists at all. In the programme, Laura Lomas states that she wanted it to express her wish that the play shouldn’t “be making a judgment about what kind of life is a life worth living”. One of the strengths of Strindberg’s play is that the final outcome of what we’ve witnessed is left to the audience’s imagination; it’s a deliciously inconclusive ending. The final scene of The House Party, however, eliminates all possibility of doubt and recounts exactly what happened. There’s no room for any I wonder ifs at the end of this show. It is brave; it is bold. But I wish they hadn’t done it.

In the programme Laura Lomas also says she wants the play to remove some of Strindberg’s misogyny that’s inherent in the original. Does it succeed? There’s no doubt that Lomas’ Jon is much less ruthless in his dealings with Julie than Strindberg’s Jean. However, at the end of the day, Jon is still triumphant, getting everything he wants. Julie comes across as much more manipulative than Jon, who’s just led by the horns to do what she wants. Christina remains an under-achiever, accepting a lower position in life than she merits.

The show we saw was only its second preview, but I can’t imagine that the three central performances are going to get any better. This is not the first time I’ve seen the excellent Rachelle Diedericks work with Holly Race Roughan and they clearly have a brilliant understanding of each other. Ms Diedericks is spellbinding as the put-upon Christina, pussyfooting around the subject of Cambridge because it will mean she can’t go with Julie to Thailand, even though Julie puts a lot of pressure on her to cave in. When it’s revealed that Jon has been unfaithful and had sex with Julie, Ms D’s devastation at the news and the realisation that everything she held dearest has been destroyed is tangible. Simply brilliant.

Nadia Parkes is also superb as Julie; exuding power and privilege, you really feel she’s deliberately courting lowlier types with her relationships with both Christina and Jon. Flighty, self-absorbed and loving to lead people astray, she also conveys that wafer-thin balance between self-confidence and mental illness; the kind of person who is both entertaining and terrifying to know.

Josh Finan is terrific as Jon; an equal partner for Christina, and a bit of rough for Julie, displaying the strong class difference that attracts them both to each other. Mr Finan has a marvellous sincerity that makes you believe unquestioningly everything he says, as though Jon were an open book with no hidden agenda.  Holly Race Roughan’s direction is tight and intimate despite the large acting area at her disposal, which is successfully sacrificed in the final scene to give an impression of cramped claustrophobia.

It’s a strong production with much to say which benefits from three stupendous performances. Despite any misgivings about the changes made to Strindberg’s original, it’s hugely entertaining and cleverly realised. Don’t buy the on-stage seats though.

4-starsFour They’re Jolly Good Fellows!