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Review – Dara Ó Briain, Re: Creation, Bedford Corn Exchange, 9th April 2025

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A Dara Ó Briain gig is never just a mere show – it’s an event. He’s a giant in more than one way; the most expert storyteller and comic presence, even when he’s in a room with over a thousand people, you still feel that he’s confiding just in you – all these other people around us are a mirage, apart from those brave enough to sit in the front row, from whom Mr Ó B attempts to winkle out comedy nuggets that he will return to again and again throughout the evening.

We were introduced to recently redundant gas pipe replacement fitter James and his wife Kate the cyberfraud expert; Jay the secretive Luton Airport security officer who’s going to make a fortune from letting out rooms near the new Bedford Theme Park, Cambridge Micky and her Californian friend who was enticed into seeing the show in a strange mystic vision, and test driver Josh who admitted to be the youngest in the front couple of rows, at the age of 29. Once Mr Ó Briain gets his teeth into your personal details he doesn’t let go of them over the next two and a half hours, like a benevolent comedy Rottweiler.

During those two and half hours, he has plenty of opportunity to explore some delightful comic avenues, such as younger peoples’ predilection for no pubic hair, memories of Now That’s What I Call Music compilations, Irish school poo (don’t ask), and, my favourite, his experience of attending an online Speed Awareness Course. Having done one myself, Mr Ó Briain absolutely nails every single aspect of that humiliating, almost religiously contrite, couple of hours.

For his previous tour, So Where Were We, he concentrated on the story of searching for his birth parents, as he was adopted. He found his mother, but not his father. In Re: Creation, he continues the search for his father, and that gripping, gasp-inducing, but fortunately also hilarious account takes up the majority of the second half of the evening. No spoilers from me, but, apparently, the Bedford audience gave the most astonishing reaction in his tour so far to one of the revelations in the story; all I can say is, I for one was genuinely astonished, and it must have taken a good half a minute for my jaw dropping to end.

As always, Dara was on unflappable form; his quick-witted memory going into overdrive, and exuding super confidence from every pore whilst always keeping it real and taking all opportunities for a spot of self-deprecation. A great blend of both style and substance. Re: Creation is still in its early days and continues to tour the UK and Ireland over the next twelve months. Highly recommended!

Review – Tambo and Bones, Royal and Derngate, Northampton, 11th March 2025

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Dave Harris’ Tambo and Bones takes us, in three scenes, on a five hundred year adventure from an American Minstrel show, to a hip-hop gig in the present, then onto a futuristic lecture, examining black identity and the black experience in creative art. Ambitious, or what?! One hand it feels very innovative and experimental; on the other it also borrows from the Theatre of the Absurd, and there are a several nods to other productions that attempted similar stylistic presentations. Either way, it’s undoubtedly a subversive piece of theatre which provokes a variety of reactions and will leave you either exhilarated or exasperated – or quite possibly both.

T&BIn the same way that Harlequin and Columbine were set characters in Commedia dell’Arte, Tambo and Bones were roles in nineteenth-century minstrel shows; Tambo played the tambourine, and Bones played the bones (obvs) – a kind of castanet. The shows were performed by white actors in blackface; it seems bizarre and offensive now, but my parents’ generation adored TV’s Black and White Minstrel Show which continued until 1978, with a stage production touring until 1987. As a child I just found it freaky.

Clifford Samuel and Daniel WardThe first scene shows Tambo and Bones (sans either tambo or bones) exchanging ideas, challenges, interacting with the audience, against a fake, surrealistic landscape including two (movable) trees. This shouted Waiting for Godot to me all the way through; two tramp-like characters who apparently have no other existence apart from in each other’s lives, without much happening. Trees play a part in Godot too; and Beckett’s Pozzo and Lucky, a ruthless autocrat with a mistreated servant who interrupt proceedings, are here replaced by the playwright (a puppet) upon whom they deliver vengeful violence. Two Characters in Search of an Author, perhaps?

Daniel WardThe second scene takes us to a gig where Tambo and Bones are high-achieving, influential hip hop musicians, presenting us with the two elements of creative drive: wanting to change the world with your art, and wanting to make lots of money out of it. Shakespeare wouldn’t disagree. But their fame and fortune gets out of hand as they start – unwittingly or otherwise – to cause the overthrow of the world political status quo.

DW and CSFour hundred years in the future, our actors, Daniel Ward and Clifford Samuel, come out of character and present as themselves, reflecting on how the first half of the show exhausted them with all that rap, and delivering a history of how Tambo and Bones became the religious icons/cult heroes/political philosophers that have led us to our current, blissful state. Throughout the play there are additional nuances of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead, Hamilton and even The Book of Mormon, in its clever portrayal of how an ordinary person can end up being a semi-God.

Clifford SamuelThe language is deliberately divisive, with endless repetitions of the N word; individual audience members will react to that however they see fit. The play asks many questions about race and identity, and what’s fake and what’s real, as well as the responsibilities of a performing artist, and how an audience responds to what it sees on stage. It doesn’t offer answers to these questions – they have to be provided by you.

DW and CSThe ending is especially subversive, but perhaps not unique; I was reminded of DV8’s Bound to Please, where a cast member rounded on the audience for photographing the show, and Peter Handke’s Offending the Audience, where taped cheering forces the audience out of the auditorium at the end of the play without their having the chance to have their reaction heard. Neither of those happen here, but it’s an equally disturbing and unsettling ending.

Clifford Samuel and Daniel WardClifford Samuel and Daniel Ward give hugely committed performances that show off their terrific versatility, with great clowning and musical skills as well as being superb actors. Incredibly likeable, their enthusiasm spreads all around the auditorium, galvanising the audience into frequently responding to them; this is perhaps not a show for shrinking violets. Hats off also to Jaron Lammens and Dru Cripps as the X-Bots in the final scene; Mr Cripps’ ability to sit on an invisible chair leaves you speechless.

Daniel WardEach scene culminates in acts of violence. It’s a personal thing, but violence is always turn-off for me, even against a puppet, or a masked DJ, or a cartoon President, or a robot that protests it’s a real person. For me, Tambo and Bones is an essentially pessimistic play, despite the upbeat air that permeates all its scenes; if violence is always the outcome, the future for the world is bleak. There’s a very significant event that happens between the second and third scenes which I won’t mention, but is an act of violence that not even Hitler achieved.

Clifford SamuelThe fact that the audience just drifts off at the end of the play, as and when they’re ready, is a theatrical not with a bang but a whimper moment, leaving you dissatisfied with the conclusion. But that’s not the only reason that, despite all its extraordinary qualities, I can’t find myself enamoured with this play. If you don’t “get” Godot style interaction, you’ll find the first scene dull (Mrs Chrisparkle nodded off). I found the final scene dull too – in fact, I stopped listening to the narrative because the actions of the X-Bots was much more interesting. And for all its bold decisions and quirky structure, I couldn’t stop thinking about how, deep down, nothing is new. Perhaps I’m just insufficiently connected to American culture.

Clifford Samuel and Daniel WardNevertheless, if you haven’t seen anything like this before, this will be a shock to the system, and if you like to be challenged in the theatre, this is definitely for you. After it leaves Northampton, the tour continues to Liverpool, Manchester, Coventry, back to its spiritual home in Stratford East, and finally to Leeds in May.

Production photos by Jane Hobson

3-starsThree-sy Does It!

Review – Edward II, Royal Shakespeare Company at the Swan Theatre, Stratford-upon-Avon, 5th March 2025

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It’s not often you’re invited to be part of the procession around a royal coffin to pay your respects to the dear departed monarch (in this case, Edward I, fine old chap that he was). But it’s an unusual, inclusive and rather exciting way of getting the audience focussed on the power of the crown at the beginning of Daniel Raggett’s clear, pacy and gripping new production of Christopher Marlowe’s Edward II at the Swan Theatre.

Daniel EvansThe one thing that every tittering adolescent knows about Edward II is the way he met his final come-uppance with a red hot poker. Whether that’s the genuine historical truth, or just a myth invented centuries ago to deter men from the sin of Sodom, is probably a question for debate. But Raggett’s production makes it extremely clear that the king and his favourite, Gaveston, are more than just bosom buddies. The opening scene, which Marlowe sets as “a street in London”, shows Gaveston, Spenser, Baldock and others in a sweaty gentlemen’s sauna, perfectly transporting us from 1307 to the present day; and our first sight of Edward and Gaveston together shows them in full embrace, smothering each other with hungry kisses and desperate sexual attraction, much to the disgust of their fellow courtiers, who clearly consider themselves real men in comparison. To them, Edward is every inch a pipsqueak. It’s a fascinating, powerful juxtaposition of sexualities; homophobia is clearly rife in the court of King Edward, and the audience can only admire the honesty of the two main characters living their lives as they see fit.

Eloka IvoBut it’s not as simple as that. Gaveston is a ruffian and a scoundrel, who knows full well that by dancing attendance on the king he will receive favour in the form of riches and status. And within a few seconds of them being together, Edward has bestowed on him the titles of Lord High Chamberlain and Earl of Cornwall, and has encouraged him to knock the Bishop of Coventry’s mitre off his head and “rend his stole”, in a startlingly anarchical scene of insubordination that reduces a figure of religious influence and significance into a shocked victim of assault; and one only has to look at politics in the US today to see the similarities between Edward and Gaveston and Trump and Musk. Never has this play felt more relevant. One might almost expect Gaveston to come on stage wielding a chainsaw.

Death of GavestonEdward’s insistence on his own eccentric bestowal of power can only ever end in one way. Gaveston’s inevitable murder takes place at the beginning of Act Three (of Five), after which the king looks to find new favourites in Spenser and Baldock whilst Mortimer plots alongside the Queen to overthrow him. Eventually, what no one foresees is that the future King Edward III views the line of succession as giving him complete control of the country, outwitting Mortimer who had expected to become Lord Protector; a case of this crown ain’t big enough for both of us. The play ends with the usual optimism of a new order bringing in calm and stability after the chaos that has ensued.

James HayesDaniel Raggett has condensed this weighty and poetic play into 100 minutes without an interval, literally zipping through the text, reducing the number of characters by two-thirds whilst maintaining the integrity of the original and letting Marlowe’s words do the work. Normally my heart sinks when I discover a production has abandoned the interval in favour of getting the audience home early, but this is one of those rare occasions where it is completely the right decision.

Edward and LightbornA few props and tables are all that are required to suggest the different scenes, whilst beneath the surface, the stage rolls back to reveal the murky pond and prison where Edward will end his days. Tim Lutkin’s superb lighting design focuses our attention on all the significant elements of the production, and helps make the scene changes slick and quick, while Tommy Reilly’s atmospheric music helps build the suspense and tension of the inevitable outcome. The climactic death scenes of Gaveston and Edward are staged with realistic and riveting horror; afterwards their frail corpses reveal a stark contrast with the powerful people they were in life.

Gaveston at the saunaMuch of the impact of the first half of the play stems from the performance by Eloka Ivo as Gaveston, a wannabe nobleman, unsurprisingly tending towards the arrogant, with a voice as robust as his physical appearance. It’s a fantastic performance. As an aside, the production makes good use of his size in comparison with the king’s (Daniel Evans) relatively slight stature; when reunited for the second time, the king jumps into Gaveston’s arms like a five year old delighted to be swung around by his daddy.

CastRuta Gedmintas is excellent as Queen Isabella; haughty and aloof, seeing no need to hide her disdain of her wayward husband, and clinical in her continued quest for power. In Edward’s court, the best performances come from Geoffrey Lumb’s savage Warwick, a kill first and ask questions later kind of courtier, and Emilio Doorgasingh as the complex and troubled Pembroke. Jacob James Beswick gives us a knowingly sly Lightborn, the murderer with a special trick up his sleeve for the king, and there’s good support from Stavros Demetraki and Kwaku Mills as Gaveston’s allies and the king’s new favourites, Spenser and Baldock. For press night, Prince Edward – eventually to become King Edward III – was played by Freddie Beck, conveying the leap from jimjams to military command with excellent, clear, youthful authority.

Spenser and BaldockBut of course it is Daniel Evans, the RSC’s very own Artistic Director, lured back into acting fourteen years after we saw him in Company at Sheffield, who grabs hold of the role of Edward II and runs with it for all its worth. Adopting a shrill, petulant tone that can both badger and wheedle its way around his opponents, casting his queen aside with derogatory cruelty, yet also appearing totally vulnerable when all the veneer of power is gone, it’s a stunning and brave performance that compels your attention throughout.

With an extraordinary Hamlet in the Royal Shakespeare Theatre and this gripping production of Edward II in the Swan, the RSC are having a cracking start to 2025, Long may it continue!

Production photos by Helen Murray

Five Alive, Let Theatre Thrive!

Review – Unicorn, Garrick Theatre, London, 1st March 2025

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Take a writer of some renown, a gifted cast including national treasures, and an intriguingly saucy subject that offers endless dramatic opportunities, and tickets will fly out of the door. And indeed, our Saturday matinee proudly boasted House Full notices confirming that this was an irresistible theatrical prospect for the early bookers.

Polly and Nick, successful in their careers, long time married with kids, find their bedroom antics are not what they were. Nick stifles any disappointment in that department by concentrating on work and other community activities. Polly is keener on scratching that itch and becomes besotted with one of her mature students, Kate. But Polly doesn’t think it’s fair simply to have an affair behind Nick’s back, thus creating the suggestion of a throuple – and Kate’s up for this, being a unicorn: “a bisexual person who is willing to join an existing couple, often with the presumption that this person will date and become sexually involved with both members of that couple”. Where would we be without Urban Dictionary?

Many years ago, when I was gainfully employed, I attended a training course which discussed ways in which a manager could coax, cajole, encourage, coach, convince, etc a member of staff to do something that you wanted them to do; and there are all sorts of methods you can successfully employ. But sometimes, when all else fails, you need to fall back on the old solution of JFDI – Just F***ing Do It.

And that was what came to mind during the first Act of Unicorn, where Polly and Nick huff and puff about the rights and wrongs of doing something that they’re both tempted to do but don’t, thus creating approximately an hour of nothing really happening. The second Act starts more promisingly – two years have passed, and things have considerably changed. Polly and Nick are no longer together; she kicked him out after having an affair. But then they are drawn back to the prospect of the throuple, and we’re back to Square One.

Mike Bartlett puts his characters through all sorts of rigours before getting to the final scenes, many of which I found extremely unbelievable. Nick, whose natural reticence and lack of curiosity makes him totally unsuitable for the polyamorous set-up, has more than one affair and, although unhappy, has moved on. Polly, never wanting to set eyes on him again, takes comfort in her relationship with Kate. But Bartlett forces the three back together again in what feels a very contrived and inorganic plot development. The most likely element to play a part in their lives forward, their children, are completely ignored. Not content with that, he then pours pestilence and plagues of locusts on them, by having one character lose parents in a car crash and another diagnosed with cancer. It put me in mind of Thomas Hardy’s predilection for fatalistic misery to befall his characters, just because he could.

The result is not only a Marathon of Misery, but also surprisingly boring. Visually, it’s one of the most static productions I’ve ever seen, just a sequence of characters sitting down on a sofa, or a bench, or a pair of chairs, moaning away about how everything is not working. You don’t get any sense of drama or, indeed, any kind of action at all. It’s more like a reading than a play. Information is deliberately withheld from the audience in an attempt, I presume, to introduce some suspense or tension, but it doesn’t materialise. Elements of politics and death are crowbarred in. The structure of the play gets vandalised towards the end by becoming an irritating series of short scenes on the couch, separated by quick lighting changes, giving a very unbalanced sense to the play as a whole.

Does it have any redeeming features? Yes. The scene changes are almost magical, in that the stage goes dark and when the lights return, everything is different; a truly slick operation. There are also some extremely funny lines; about six, I would estimate. And with a cast like Nicola Walker, Stephen Mangan and Erin Doherty, you know you are in the safest of hands to give very good performances; but even so, I was surprised at the lack of any form of sexual tension or chemistry between them. Problematically, you don’t really care about any of the characters – it’s not that they’re unlikeable, it’s just they’re barely there.

There’s probably a very good play lurking somewhere here, but it’s not even fighting to get out, it’s just languishing in the background. Some plays get better the more you reflect on them after the curtain comes down; this is the opposite. I can imagine this would have worked better as a short story, because there’s just no drama. Because of the quality of the performances, I can’t give this one star.

Two Disappointing For More!

 

Review – Screaming Blue Murder, Royal and Derngate, Northampton, 27th February 2025

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Constant as the Northern Star, it was time for another Screaming Blue Murder at the Royal and Derngate – scheduled to be the last in the old Royal theatre before moving back to its proper home in the freshly de-RAAC’d Underground in April. Also, as firmly identified with Screaming Blue as Heinz with Baked Beans, was our regular host and MC Dan Evans, suffering from the sniffles, but there’s a lot of it about. Fortunately a kind lady to my left was able to offer him the occasional tissue. I could have given him a whole packet, but didn’t want to draw attention to myself.

Dan set about mingling his way through the crowd, which seemed largely made up of escapees from tough and dangerous East Side Northampton – NN3 to the cognoscenti. We also met Ginny, the English student who doesn’t attend uni – a somewhat complicated arrangement – and Ryan, the crime lecturer who didn’t return for the final act and, thereby, as is always a risk if you do that, missed the best bit. We also met Roger from Northern Ireland, whose unexpected mime for the reason he’s now in Northampton left Dan appropriately speechless.

Showing how our cup ranneth over with talent in this line up, our first act, normally a headliner, was Roger Monkhouse, someone we’ve admired and enjoyed many times over the years. Celebrating his 60th birthday apparently, his young fogey persona is now distinctly becoming at least middle-aged; I can’t say he’s now an old fogey, because he’s still younger than me. He delivers his material as almost a stream of consciousness, that fools you into thinking he’s making it up on the spur of the moment; but in fact it’s meticulously crafted to give that effect. His material centres on that recognisable confusion of living in the modern world as a no-longer modern bloke, with some lovely relatable observations on how we all just manage to plod on despite our brains and bodies letting us down. Always a delight.

Our next act, and new to us, was Dee Allum, who introduces herself from the start as a trans woman, and whose material centres on her life and the problems she faces, but also you can see the joy her new identity brings her. She has a relatively quiet style, occasionally feeling a little tentative until she gets the vibe of the audience but then grows in confidence as her set progresses. There’s a lot of refreshingly new and innovative material here; I loved her deliberately long and immaculately phrased story involving Kurdish and Yorkshire, and there are some terrific insights into managing a relationship when you come out as trans during the relationship. She ends her routine with a brilliant tale of sperm donation. I’m tempted to say we’ve all been there, but of course we haven’t; but if you have, you really get it. Definitely One To Watch.

After two gently delivering wordsmiths, our headliner was Phil Nichol who gave the evening a hugely energetic kick up the backside. Buzzing with excitement, he exploded around the stage with his uniquely unrestrained hilarity; a bit like the most endearing spoilt kid you ever met. He radiates a strange blend of danger and affability, mixed with oodles of cool, and a quick comedy brain that seizes any opportunity. Armed with his guitar, he gave us some excellent rock parodies, and fixated on poor second row Luke, upon whom he (literally) thrust his faux-sexual advances. Luke proved his worth later when he joined Phil on stage and showed what a good sport he was. Extremely funny throughout and a great way to end the night.

Review – Eshaan Akbar, I Can’t Get No Satisfakshaan, Royal and Derngate, Northampton, 21st February 2025

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It’s been a surprisingly long time – six years – since we last saw Eshaan Akbar live, but he’s still very much the same, urbane, civilised chap as before. He cuts a very relaxed figure on the stage. Unhurried, unfazed, taking everything in his stride; you know you’re in very safe hands with his intelligent content and friendly delivery, even though there’s a sting in the tail to many of his stories.

But I’m getting ahead of myself, as, after a brief getting-to-know-you session at the beginning of the show, including talking to an audience member whose sister insisted she came and thus made the ultimate sacrifice by giving up watching EastEnders, Eshaan introduced us to his support act, the excellent Alexandra Haddow, whom we’ve seen many times before and is always very entertaining. This was the perfect gig for her to recollect her Corby upbringing, and the exciting occasion on when a railway line finally reached the town; she also told us about her boyfriend-geezer and his simple North London ways. I loved her material about relationship “launches” on Instagram, and the pitfalls of being too honest about other people’s ex’s. Confident, smart, and very funny, it was an excellent start to the evening.

After the interval, we welcomed Mr Akbar back, for an hour’s worth of material reflecting his own national identity, as a brown man, born to Pakistani/Bangladeshi parents in Whitechapel, who completely identifies as English – although he doesn’t pass the old Norman Tebbit cricket test. A private education introduced him to the Best of British Banter, as evidenced by his so-called friend Ben, who gave him a deceptive nickname that took years for the penny to drop. Now aged 40, he’s unexpectedly back on the dating scene – including the Muslim version of Tinder – and he sees the world, or at least the country, through the eyes of experience of travelling up and down the land and meeting all kinds of people.

It takes a bold comedian to mine humour from racism (not his own, I should add) and he frequently doesn’t play safe with his material, much to his credit. Thoughtful and intelligent comedy that points out the differences and the similarities between races; and whilst it never truly soars to the heights of hysterically funny, is always entertaining, thought-provoking and full of relatable experiences and observations. Very enjoyable! His tour continues throughout the UK and Ireland into April.

Review – Richard II, Bridge Theatre, London, 20th February 2025

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After its record-breaking run of Guys and Dolls, the Bridge Theatre had to come up with something special to fill the formidable boots of Nathan Detroit and Miss Adelaide. And they have, with Jonathan Bailey, whose star is definitely in the ascendant, starring in Richard II, Shakespeare’s exciting look at the last year of the king’s life before he was usurped by his cousin Bullingbrook, later to become Henry IV.

Written around 1595, the play is known to have offended Queen Elizabeth I, who saw the characterisation of Richard II as a veiled attack on her good queenly self, and in fact she ordered the scene where Richard is deposed to be removed from the printed text; a scene that remained effectively censored for the next two hundred years. Nothing changes, of course; there are plenty of modern parallels to be drawn from the play, proving once again that Shakespeare is always relevant to the modern era. When Richard insists on shamelessly seizing all John of Gaunt’s assets, I couldn’t help but think of Donald Trump’s plans for Ukraine’s natural resources.

Designing the set, Bob Crowley has gone for a clean, bare stage, challenging us to work our imaginations to provide the intricacies of each location. Modern props, such as microphones, pint glasses, hospital beds and walking aids, etc, confirm the production is set in the present day; frosted glass doors at the back of the set make you think that any minute, Lord Sugar’s going to emerge and give you a grilling. Scene changes are made swiftly and effectively through use of traps in the floor; visually, it’s all very slick. Grant Olding’s incidental music is terrific; all too often unnecessary music can really aggravate and detract from a production, but here, the quiet, moody, unsettling themes really build up the tension, and Olding’s stately regal court themes are a delight.

The production makes excellent use of the entire auditorium, with actors often performing from the aisles, audience seats, and even from Gallery 1. The configuration of the stage in relation to the seats does mean that there are occasional blocking issues. To get a good view of everything going on from our positions in Row C of the Stalls you had to do quite a lot of bobbing your head around other cast members to see the action.

Apart from its modern setting, Nicholas Hytner’s production doesn’t approach the play from any unusual or unexpected angle, it just aims to let the text tell the story for itself, bringing out the characterisations of the main roles. Unlike some Shakespeare plays, Richard II isn’t especially overcomplicated; you’re witnessing an arrogant tyrant cling on to power until the power switches to his usurper, and then you see his importance just wither on the vine. It’s fascinating how loathsome Richard is portrayed in the first part of the play; but once he’s ceded his power to his cousin, you feel strangely sorry for him.

At the heart of the play is the tug-of-war for power, beautifully and simply conveyed in the scene where Richard is required to give up his crown to Bullingbrook; both men grabbing hold of it as if it were some kind of exercise ring, and refusing to let go, in an extremely telling test of will.  There are some other notable flashes of directorial brilliance, such as the separate appearances of the Duke and Duchess of York at the locked door, and then their kneeling alongside Aumerle in supplication to Bullingbrook, whilst he wanders around, injecting a spot of comedy into an otherwise bleak sequence. In the famous mirror scene, instead of dashing it to the ground, Richard gives it a head-butt of unhinged fury. Little moments of inventiveness like this keep the whole production lively and unpredictable.

The production is very well cast, although some doubling up of roles can be a little confusing, especially if – like me –  you’re not that familiar with the text. Additionally, one of the actors delivers their lines in a rather mumbling fashion which makes them often difficult to understand them fully. But, for the most part, there are many excellent performances to enjoy. Michael Simkins is superb throughout as the Duke of York, long suffering, allegiance-switching; it’s a very thoughtful and intelligent performance. Understudying John of Gaunt, Martin Carroll is also excellent, delivering the famous “royal throne of kings” speech with a heavy heart and the regrets of old age.

Vinnie Heaven is superb as Aumerle, giving a typically charismatic performance as the doggedly faithful Duke, Christopher Osikanlu Colquhoun impresses as the ruthless Northumberland, and there’s excellent support from Amanda Root as the Duchess of York and Olivia Popica as Richard’s sorrowful Queen Isobel. Royce Pierreson is outstanding as Bullingbrook, exuding nobility right from the start, maturing into the clinically firm but fair Henry IV. He has incredible stage presence and provides the perfect opponent for Jonathan Bailey’s Richard II.

However, it is Mr Bailey who is the star attraction in this production and he gives every inch the star performance. Totally believable as the despotic Richard, with his swiftly changing moods, he switches from imperial grandeur to whiny sarcasm within the same sentence.  It’s a physically demanding performance and he captures both extremes of the king’s character perfectly – the statesman and the wimp. His vocal delivery is perfect too, always with crystal clear elocution and a stage authority that makes you feel you’re in the presence of someone special.

Selling out at the Bridge Theatre until 10th May – if you haven’t bought your tickets yet, you’d better get your skates on!

Production photos by Manuel Harlan

4-starsFour They’re Jolly Good Fellows!

Review – Hamlet, RSC at the Royal Shakespeare Theatre, Stratford-upon-Avon, 18th February 2025

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Ahoy there me hearties as it’s all aboard the SS Elsinore as it crashes through the waves somewhere off the coast of Denmark. Yes, Rupert Goold’s new production risks headlines like This Hamlet is All At Sea with a nautical take on Shakespeare’s longest play, condensed at a tremendous pace into just short of three hours including an interval. There are some bold directorial decisions at play here, and most of them work extremely well, creating a memorable, vibrant, powerful, atmospheric production that has the audience gripped from the start.

Es Devlin has turned the stage of the Royal Shakespeare Theatre into a ship; a floating court if you will, its deck rising and falling in line with the choppiness or tranquillity of the sea, a permanent backdrop thanks to Akhila Krishnan’s very realistic video design. The cast must have Velcro on their shoes to stay upright through some of those stormy scenes, and you really get to understand the meaning of the phrase, those in peril on the sea. Access to the deck is gained via stairs from below at both the front and the back of the stage, as well as from various hatches on the surface of the deck. Colours, in both the set and in Evie Gurney’s costumes, are kept to the minimum, lending a harsh monochrome air to the experience.

On boardIt’s not altogether obvious why a ship setting should work for a production of Hamlet. True, an element of the story includes the prince being shipped to England with Rosencrantz and Guildenstern to get executed, but his negotiations with pirates get in the way of that sordid plan and, consequently, he gets shipped back again. Otherwise, traditionally, the play is rooted in the terra firma of Elsinore; but we know that something is rotten in the state of Denmark, so to make Elsinore less firma and more instabilis makes sense. The programme notes suggest that the setting might represent the fate of the Titanic – indeed, the costumes are set in or around 1912 – in which case the final outcome is doomed from the start. Shakespeare, of course, gives us Fortinbras to arrive in the last scene and herald a new age for Denmark. But in Goold’s production, Fortinbras is one of the casualties of cuts (along with Osric and Reynaldo), so the future for Denmark is deliberately left uncertain at the end of the play.

Famously, Hamlet sets out to make Claudius reveal himself as the murderer of Old Hamlet by causing him to react to the play within the play, where a murderer pours poison into his brother’s ear.  One of the better judged cuts is to do away with a lot of the wordy narrative by the Players – as well as Hamlet and Ophelia’s audience reactions – and replace it with obscure but effective singing; basically, here The Mousetrap – as Hamlet humorously names the piece – has been turned into a musical. Another necessary change results in an odd use of language though; as there are no arrases for Polonius to hide behind to witness Hamlet’s conversation with Gertrude, he takes the downstage stairs instead. When Hamlet hears there is someone hiding down there, he can’t use his sword to dash the villain to death because it’s not long enough, so he shoots him instead. However, Gertrude still tells Claudius that Hamlet whips out his rapier when he killed Polonius.  Err.. no, he didn’t. He shot him.

SwordfightHowever, the production is incredibly successful in making the story clear and easy to understand, in an exciting setting and with excellent stagecraft. I’m a big fan of stage combat done well – primarily because if it isn’t done well, it looks ridiculous. Gertrude gives Hamlet a tremendous slap across the face in the first Act; but, topping that, I’ve rarely seen anything quite so believable and thrilling to watch as the swordfight between Hamlet and Laertes in the final scene. Not only coping with the rise and fall of the deck surface, as the ship tilts alarmingly, to my untutored eye it was Olympic standard fencing. Most impressive.

It was with a heavy heart that I realised this production had plugged in the RSC Binatone LED bedroom alarm clock circa 1981 at the sides of the stage, recalling how fatally the time theme wounded the 2018 production of Macbeth. Here it counts down from some time after 9pm to some time after 2 am, with To Be Or Not To Be delivered on the stroke of midnight. You couldn’t make it up. It was Mrs Chrisparkle who suggested that it might represent the time it took for the Titanic to sink. A shapely theory; but it’s impossible for the events of Hamlet to be crammed into four hours, no matter how speedily it’s delivered. Hamlet travels to England and back, and Laertes to France and back during the course of the play. Not even Ryanair can operate that quickly. The best thing about the clock is that it’s completely ignorable.

SalvationThe production builds to an astonishing crescendo with a final scene that makes you tingle. As the storm gets rougher and the waves toss the ship more dangerously, it starts to tilt into an unavoidable sinking position. Characters are variously poisoned or wounded by swords, and, as they die, gravity slides them down the deck towards a watery grave. It’s a remarkable visual effect and provides a telling juxtaposition with the dignity and formality of Old Hamlet’s funeral at sea with which the play starts. At the end, with no Fortinbras to rescue what’s left of the court of Elsinore, Hamlet stands up, arms outstretched, looking like the salvation of the world, and you expect him to tumble to his death; but he doesn’t. Blackout; end. It’s up to the audience to decide his fate. Does everyone die except Horatio? Or does Hamlet somehow survive and begin the renewal of Denmark?

Rupert Goold has assembled a fantastic cast who nail some superb characterisations throughout. Jared Harris gives a beautifully understated Claudius who attempts to retain his dignity whilst always coming across as guilty as sin. Too quick to lay a kind hand here, or to offer support there, you feel that when the time comes for him to confess his crime, he’s truly relieved to get it off his chest. Nancy Carroll is an excellent Gertrude, reaching for that pacifying cigarette with a ruthlessness that shows there are times when a nicotine patch just won’t do. She is more motherly than Gertrude is normally portrayed, going in for a big maternal kiss and cuddle with Hamlet as she does what she can to make him feel better after killing Polonius, which feels extremely believable; it’s the only way she can try to make good her immoral actions.

ClaudiusElliot Levey is also brilliant as Polonius; not a doddery old fusspot, but an affectionate father who likes to play infantile games with his daughter. Of course, he’s keen to stick his nose into everything from arranging the royal household affairs to critiquing the players, but Mr Levey plays him as a likeable old chap rather than an irritating old git. The always reliable Anton Lesser brings great credibility to the role of the Player King, who’s basically a jobbing actor who has done well, rather than a bighead who knows it all; he also doubles up as the Ghost of Old Hamlet – a very “real” ghost in this production and also turns in a nice cameo as the first Gravedigger. Ah yes, they don’t have gravediggers on ships, but this is a useful exception, someone has to be in charge of dispatching all those dead bodies.

Lewis Shepherd gives us a suitably hot-headed Laertes who puts revenge first and then asks questions after, and Nia Towle’s Ophelia is as strong and independent a young woman as the times would allow; her “mad scene” is as full of power and physicality as I’ve ever seen, enveloping herself around the King without the inhibitions of etiquette. And there’s an entertaining portrayal of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern by Chase Brown and Tadeo Martinez, who would easily pass for extras in The Book of Mormon. It’s always entertaining when Claudius mixes the two friends up and is corrected by Gertrude, in a scene straight out of Tom Stoppard.

HamletA production of Hamlet is always going to succeed or fail on the strength of its central performance, and here Mr Goold’s production is in the safest of hands. Luke Thallon is phenomenal. Young enough to have dreams to be shattered, and old enough to be cynical through experience, he gives a lively, physical, emotionally draining performance, delivering each line as though he’s working out what to say next; Hamlet starts sentences that he often has no idea how they will end, revealing an eloquent vulnerability that conveys his character perfectly.

Also HamletIt’s always a matter of opinion in any production as to what extent Hamlet is mad or feigns madness. Is Mr Thallon’s Hamlet mad? I sense not very. At times channelling the brash comedic smugness of the late Rik Mayall, at others deadly serious and threatening, it’s a performance of limitless possibilities and interpretations and he has the audience spellbound, waiting on his every word. And he heads up a production that’s exciting, powerful and innovative; exploring new ways of telling an old tale and telling it superbly well. On the downside: I miss Osric and Fortinbras; and there’s the clock. But on the upside: Luke Thallon, and that tremendous final scene. An absolute cracker of a production.

Production photos by Marc Brenner

Five Alive, Let Theatre Thrive!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Production photos by Manuel Harlan

3-starsThree-sy Does It!

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

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

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

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

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

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