Tag Archives: Chichester

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!

Review – The Other Boleyn Girl, Festival Theatre, Chichester, 4th May 2024

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It’s to my shame, gentle reader, that I never even knew there was another Boleyn girl. For someone who ought to have a love of history, I blame bad teachers. And, if I’m honest, being a history-hating kid. Too late to do anything about it now, sigh. Mike Poulton’s new play, based on Philippa Gregory’s best selling romantic novel, is my new gospel on the subject and I am sure it’s one hundred percent historically accurate. I trust.

Mary is the other Boleyn girl in question, used by Henry VIII for some diverting rumpy-pumpy whilst Catherine of Aragon was giving him dark looks. No surprise that Mary had a son by him whilst Catherine was “determined” not to conceive – how simple that period of history could have been if only the young lad had been born legitimate; but no, Henry had to keep banging away, literally, until a legal son and heir would be born. As history recounts, it was, in modern parlance, a big ask. Anne, Mary and their brother George were a trifle unorthodox in their relationships, with the very first scene of the play strongly hinting that they were equally at ease with each other’s bodies; yes, incest does raise its ugly head in this story. So do their hideously ambitious mother Lady Elizabeth and their cruelly manipulative uncle, the Duke of Norfolk. Two very ugly heads.

This is a court where, like Glen Campbell’s Rhinestone Cowboy, nice guys get washed away like the snow and the rain. Mary’s husband William Carey has to watch powerless whilst his wife is regularly summoned to the king’s bedchamber and there’s nothing either of them can do about it. Harry Percy secretly marries Anne Boleyn only to be subsequently “cancelled” and “ghosted”. Only William Stafford is sufficiently lowly of status to keep his head below the radar and end up happily married to Mary for as long as God allowed – which sadly for them wasn’t that long.

Mike Poulton’s adaptation tells a story that brings together many plots, relationships, deceptions, manipulations and a lot of highly unpleasant people with enormous clarity and simplicity. This is not meant to be uncomplimentary, but it felt to me like each scene was an episode in a rather classy soap opera, keeping us hanging on with interest until the next part of the tale would be unfolded. Lucy Bailey directs with appropriate stateliness and brings out a lovely juxtaposition between the formality and privilege of the setting and the common ruthlessness of status and ambition, which only the strongest (and luckiest) survive.

Joanna Parker’s set is austere and foreboding, super-simple in having a few rooms and hiding places at the back in a suggestion of rooms and corridors that we never see – all the machinations at court and elsewhere are played out in the useful open space that dominates the front of the stage. Orlando Gough has composed a few stately dances where backhanded comments can be shared and devious plots hatched. The costumes are classy but darkly severe; even Henry VIII’s outfit is elegant but subdued.

The performances are of an impeccably high standard, with Lucy Phelps giving us a Mary Boleyn with whom we can all identify; juggling her life as enforced Royal whore with trying to do her best to protect her children, being a good wife and fully grappling with the needs of running a farm. Freya Mevor is excellent as Anne Boleyn, ambitious from the start, always with an additional touch of arrogant haughtiness that her siblings lack, but as much a victim as anyone else who came into the orbit of the Court.There’s a terrific scene where Anne demands official recognition of her status from Mary, constantly requiring her to call her Your Grace, which Mary steadfastly refuses to do. Sisters, eh, what are they like? Another Anne highlight is her daring to dominate King Henry by refusing his advances and even physically rejecting him, knowing full well that he will bow to her will – temporarily at least. It was as near to an if you liked it then you shoulda put a ring on it moment as you could find in Tudor times. Gripping drama – but with the benefit of dramatic irony, it had the whole audience muttering to themselves oh, she’s going to come to regret this.

James Corrigan makes up the sibling throuple as George; it’s an excellent portrayal of a character who is only ever a supporting cast member, trying to do the right thing for the Tudor dynasty whilst still maintaining his own value and position, hiding his male lover Francis in plain sight whilst saddled with marriage to the ghastly lady-in-waiting Jane Parker (Lily Nichol brandishing very nicely underplayed mischief in the role). Alex Kingston and Andrew Woodall are terrific as Lady Elizabeth and Norfolk, the mother and uncle from Hell, prepared to sacrifice the younger Boleyns’ happiness, health and even necks for the sake of the surname.

Kemi-Bo Jacobs is superb as the dignified and tragic Catherine of Aragon, playing the game that she knows she has to play, and also as the money-grabbing midwife who does her job with brutal callousness. And Oscar Batterham delivers an appealing portrayal of the practical and loyal Stafford; one of those rare characters in and around the Court who simply falls in love, says so, and acts like he does.

At just short of three hours, you’d think this show might drag a little but it never does. There’s always a new plot twist or characterisation to appreciate that keeps our attention throughout; and the simplicity of the storytelling really helps our enjoyment of the play. It continues at the Festival theatre until 11th May and it’s well worth a trip to the South Coast to enjoy it!

4-starsFour They’re Jolly Good Fellows!

Review – Drop the Dead Donkey – The Reawakening! Festival Theatre, Chichester, 22nd February 2024

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Unless you’re the super-youthful sort, you’ll probably remember Drop the Dead Donkey as the much-loved TV sitcom that ran from 1990 to 1998. Set in the studios of GlobeLink News, it was part newsroom-parody and part scathing satire; not only of the politicians of the day but also of the news industry itself. I remember it being highly popular; but for some reason Mrs Chrisparkle and I never watched it. So when it was announced that the old GlobeLink team were coming back to relive the good times in a UK tour, there were swathes of nostalgic delight around the country – but not chez nous. Nevertheless, our Chichester theatregoing companions Lord and Lady Prosecco, and Professor and Mrs Plum were keen to dip their toes in the nostalgia, and who were we to deny them that pleasure?

The premise is that Gus, the old GlobeLink boss, has taken charge at the brand new news channel, Truth News. Who better to staff the new station than all the old hands he used to work with? One by one we are reunited with editor George, deputy editor Dave, reporter – now newsreader – Damien, newsreader Sally, assistant editor Helen, and HR diva Joy. They are joined by intern “weathergirl” Rita and investigative journalist Mairead, and together they are tasked with getting Truth News off the ground and producing its first broadcasts.

This isn’t the first time a stage show has been created out of a television programme. Far from it. And usually, I have to say, it doesn’t do as well as the original. I remember seeing The Comedians at the London Palladium back in 1972; a ground-breaking TV programme as far as showing stand-up comedy was concerned, but it felt tedious watching it live. In recent years, there have been a couple of outings for stage versions of Yes Minister/Yes Prime Minister, TV series par excellence, but frankly dreadful on stage. Would the same fate befall a stage version of Drop the Dead Donkey?

The production looks great. Peter McKintosh’s set is the total embodiment of a brand spanking new flashy news set, all high-tech gadgetry and glistening chrome and steel. Peter Mumford’s lighting is spot on too, as are the costumes. A screen above the stage is used at times rapidly to scroll tweets of reaction to Truth News’ output – good and bad. It’s an effective device, but I was a little disappointed to realise that those tweets actually repeat themselves on a loop a few times – was it really so hard to create a few more well-constructed tweets to display?

Written by Andy Hamilton and Guy Jenkin, who also wrote the original sitcom, the show is updated regularly as real-life breaking news breaks. And there’s no doubt that the biggest laughs from the show come from some blistering up-to-date satirical jibes, deftly delivered by its talented cast. However, unfortunately, occasional blistering one-liners do not a play make, and the overall vibe of the show struck me as a bit lame. Without having the benefit of nostalgia to help my enjoyment of the show, I found it hard to warm to a set-up where the unsympathetic characters hugely outweigh the nice guys. Gus, Damien, Sally, Joy and Mairead are all genuinely awful people!And whilst there may be some Schadenfreude to be gained from seeing them get their come-uppance (if they do) it’s not enough to hang a play on. If the intention of the play is to mirror the birth and early days of GB News it achieves that pretty well; but I wonder if today’s news industry is so savage in its manipulation of our minds and peddling of its own agenda, that it’s almost beyond parody. Apart from seeing how the characters spark off each other, there’s very little in the way of “plot”; and I’m sorry to say I thought it had an embarrassingly weak ending.

Fortunately, the production is stuffed with superb actors who bring their characters to life and get every ounce of humour out of the situation they can. Robert Duncan brings delightful bluster to Gus, seemingly completely unaware of how ridiculously pompous he is. Jeff Rawle gives us an excellent George, willing but hesitant, turning everything he touches to dust; and Neil Pearson is full of attitude as the “changed” Dave, specialising in sarcastic asides. In fact, Messrs Rawle and Pearson provide a great double act, dishing out the best of the lines in the show with satisfying relish.

Victoria Wicks imbues the character of Sally with truly ghastly arrogance, as does Susannah Doyle for Joy, but with added sadism. Stephen Tompkinson’s Damien is a troubled soul who doesn’t want to be behind the desk in the studio, Ingrid Lacey’s Helen is a relatively calm oasis in a desert of bigheads, Julia Hills brings great ruthlessness to the character of Mairead and Kerena Jagpal earns our sympathy as the decent Rita having to work alongside this bunch.

I know it’s a cliché, but this is almost the definition of a curate’s egg. Some people were weeping with laughter, others sat in stony silence. If you were a fan of the sitcom, I reckon you’re probably going to be in for a good night. If you weren’t – well, you wouldn’t go to the show anyway! And if you never saw it, I reckon its 50:50 as to how much this show impresses you. The performances are great, it’s the writing that’s debatable. It’s doing amazing business anyway; there was hardly a seat unsold at last Thursday night’s show. The tour continues to Cambridge, Brighton, Milton Keynes, Leicester, Bath, Leeds, Birmingham, Nottingham, Bromley, Norwich, Liverpool, Newcastle, Woking, Cheltenham, and Canterbury, returning to Richmond in June.

3-starsThree-sy Does It!

Review – Black is the Color of My Voice, Minerva Theatre, Chichester, 22nd February 2024

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Apphia Campbell’s Black is the Color of My Voice first appeared – perhaps bizarrely – in Shanghai, eleven years ago. Since then, it’s been performed all over the UK as well as in America and Australia, including successful runs at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe. Inspired by the life of Nina Simone, who died 21 years ago but whose memory lives on in her outstanding recordings, this is an irresistibly compelling performance that impresses from the start.

Apphia Campbell takes us straight to the heart of her character Mena Bordeaux, heavily influenced by her childhood and her God-fearing parents, reminiscing on how she started to play the piano at the age of 3 without any teaching, and how she was encouraged to develop and grow provided she didn’t play the Devil’s music (spoiler: she did!) She first encounters racial prejudice when she is refused a place to study classical music, and the fury she feels as a result only makes her more determined to attain success. She becomes involved in the Civil Rights movement and appears alongside Martin Luther King, whose assassination devastates her. She is also trapped in a cruel, violent marriage. But she never ceases to strive for equality, using the power of her voice to change minds.

A bed, a table, a photograph and a suitcase of memories is all it takes to stage this stirring and emotional one woman’s examination of the life and career of someone who touched millions of hearts through her music and her activism; and this simplicity of presentation makes the content of the show appeal directly to the audience without unnecessary trappings and distractions.

Ms Campbell’s performance captivates your attention throughout. Not only does she convey the emotion of the story, but she also has a superb singing voice which fills the auditorium with disarming ease; a rich, passionate tone that suits the Nina Simone material perfectly. The writing is heartfelt and beautifully worded; if I have a tiny criticism – and it is tiny – it is that the play starts and ends at roughly the same place, with Mena Bordeaux’ hands outstretched towards a vision of her beloved daddy, which gives a static but false impression that we haven’t moved on throughout the past 75 minutes. But we have; one comes away from the show wanting to know much more about both Nina Simone and the Civil Rights movement – I felt ashamed to admit how little I knew about both.

The tour continues to Birmingham Rep, and then visits Adelaide, Melbourne and Sydney in Australia before returning to Leeds and Manchester in April and Stratford East in June. An electrifying and inspirational journey through one woman’s life. Don’t miss it!

Five Alive Let Theatre Thrive!

Review – The Circle, Festival Theatre, Chichester, 1st February 2024

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It was 47 years ago that I saw a production of The Circle at the Theatre Royal, Haymarket. I remember thinking at the time that it was a rather stately old play, not very relevant to the theatregoing public of the time and very old-fashioned for a 16-year-old know-all like me. Surely, in 2024, 103 years after its first performance, isn’t it a play that should be consigned to the archives?

In brief, absolutely not. This is a smart, intelligent, beautifully written and constructed play, packed full of insights, with three superb roles in which older actors can revel and another three challenging younger roles that give the actors a great opportunity to stick their teeth into. It’s no surprise that productions of this play have always attracted top quality casts. The original 1921 production boasted Victorian comedy legend LottieVenne as Kitty and Fay Compton as Elizabeth; a 1931 revival starred Athene Seyler as Kitty and a young Celia Johnson as Elizabeth, whilst a further revival in 1945 starred Yvonne Arnaud as Kitty and a youngish John Gielgud as Arnold. Even the production I remember from my younger days starred Googie Withers as Kitty, Bill Fraser as Porteous, Susan Hampshire as Elizabeth and Martin Jarvis as Arnold.

Here’s the set up: thirty years ago, the seemingly happy Lady Kitty Champion-Cheney left her husband Clive and five-year-old son Arnold to run off with the up-and-coming politician Lord Hughie Porteous. Since then, Clive and Kitty have never seen each other. However, Arnold’s wife Elizabeth is so curious to meet her mother-in-law that she invites Kitty and Hughie to their house – and Clive has unexpectedly turned up too. Will they let bygones be bygones or will the sparks fly? And might the experience of the older generation have an unforeseen influence on the younger generation? I’m not going to tell you – you’ll have to see the play for yourself; mind you, it’s been around since 1921 – where on earth have you been?

Somerset Maugham fits perfectly in the middle of the sequence of great English/Irish dramatists that started with Wilde and Shaw and went on to produce Coward and Rattigan. And whilst The Circle doesn’t quite sparkle with the same effervescent wit of say, Importance of Being Earnest or Private Lives, it truly holds its own in comparison to all those authors’ more thoughtful and searching comedies. And it’s a story as old as time how a family muddles through marriage separation, changes of partners and that familiar mantra of do as I say, don’t do as I do. Each of the main characters is given equal weight to express how they feel about the situation they face, and there are several excellent speeches and thought-provoking themes that linger on in the mind, long after curtain down.

The play has been elegantly adapted from its original cast of nine to a snappier seven, without disrupting any flow of language, plot or conversation. In fact, it’s an undoubted pleasure to see a play set in 1920 performed exactly as it would have been originally staged, with no attempt of modernisation. And whilst today we might smile a little indulgently at the “scandalous” social situation it presents with the benefit of a hundred years’ hindsight, when it was first produced it would have felt rippingly contemporary. Kitty left Clive thirty years earlier than when the play is set, so that would have been around 1890. Just imagine how shocked Queen Victoria would have been!

Louie Whitemore’s set is the epitome of simplicity, concentrating on the minimum requirement to suggest chez Champion-Cheney; some French Windows, and a few tables and chairs, one of which is almost certainly not a Sheraton. There’s terrific attention to detail with her costume design too, with Lady Kitty bedecked in haute couture, traditional British reserve for Clive and Hughie, and spiffing tennis flannels for Teddie.

Jane Asher is perfectly cast as Lady Kitty – a petite, diminutive presence on stage but with a vivid personality that bursts out from beneath that elegant exterior. You can just imagine the brash determined younger woman who left Clive for Hughie, running roughshod over all society’s accepted norms of the time; and she conveys that spirit of independence balanced with the wisdom of experience beautifully. Nicholas le Prevost captures the once-roguish charm of Porteous that has been shrunk by years of disappointment and bitterness and gives us a splendid portrayal of grumpy self-centredness and domestic resentment.Pete Ashmore encapsulates Arnold’s passionless prissiness with a well observed coolness and barely concealed anger. Olivia Vinall’s Elizabeth is an excellent study of someone trapped in a loveless marriage but with the curiosity to attempt to do something about it, and Daniel Burke’s Teddie comes across as a decent enough chap, with the sense to know that nothing’s perfect, but he’s happy to settle for that.

But it’s Clive Francis who steals every scene as the mischievous Clive Champion-Cheney, hovering with gentle menace over the card table, making extraordinary suggestions feel reasonable, manipulating everyone with the intent of achieving his own aims. His comic delivery is immaculate, his timing impeccable, and the twinkle in his eye irresistible. Together the cast form a superb ensemble and Tom Littler’s production is a winner from start to finish. Will The Circle still be performed in another fifty years’ time? I rather think it might. After it leaves Chichester, the show continues its tour to Oxford, Malvern and Richmond.

P. S. The Circle has literally come full circle for Clive Francis, who played Teddie in the 1977 production!

Five Alive, Let Theatre Thrive!