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Review – Here We Are, Lyttelton Theatre at the National Theatre, London, 21st May 2025

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Sometimes creativity flows like an unstoppable stream; sometimes it sputters and falters like an airlock in a hosepipe. Such was the journey that the late great Stephen Sondheim’s final work, Here We Are, took on its forty year trek from inspiration to performance. Inspired by two Luis Buñuel films, its first act is based on 1972’s The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie, and the second on 1962’s Exterminating Angel. Separate films, but Sondheim’s music and lyrics, together with David Ives’ book, merge the two with the same set of characters creating one story.

A ruthless hedge fund manager and his superficial wife (together with her activist sister) meet with their besties, a plastic surgeon and a showbiz agent, plus the ambassador of the dubious fictional state of Miranda, to go on the hunt for brunch or lunch or whatever they can get to feed their faces. Three of those people operate a drugs cartel and another is helping plan the end of the world, but, hey, you gotta eat, right? En route they find a café with no food or drink, a bistro with a dead chef, and a brasserie with fake food. And having finally found a place to eat – at the Mirandan embassy – they find they are physically unable to leave and end up suffering agonising deprivation until some kind of cathartic sacrifice is made. Just a normal day in New York really.

Halfway through the first act I realised that the show is either total genius or utter drivel; the truth is, as is often the case, a blend of the two. There is a message peeping through, that one must live for today because, after all, here we are. Marianne, for example, spends the entire show trying to remember what it was that she was meant to do today but she can’t recall it until the end when she says she won’t say what it was, but she’ll just do it anyway. In other words: don’t talk about it; do it – a bit clumsy, but we take her point. Her understanding is helped by a conversation with a bishop (silly me, I didn’t mention the bishop – or the military personnel) trying to fathom what being alive means; clearly, she’s never seen Bobby’s conclusion in Company.

There are all sorts of threads here within a hair’s breadth of coming together but they don’t quite make it. Of course, Sondheim died four years ago and so was unable to apply his magic touch to the final product. After his death, Ives and director Joe Mantello made no changes to any of his music but continued to work on the book to adapt it to the raw materials that needed refinement.

The Sondheim element to the show remains unmistakably Sondheim. It’s light on songs – if you’re expecting a “list of musical numbers” in the programme, think again – but the first act has plenty of his trademark recitative passages which especially bring Into The Woods to mind. And there are many witty sequences, such as the Waiter’s Song lamenting his plight that he can only disappoint his customers through lack of fare, although it ends with a surprisingly bleak conclusion.

Perhaps one of the reasons the show doesn’t really work is that Sondheim and Ives try to stick too closely to the various surreal elements of the films. The endless walking, the bear and the sheep, the bishop, the catastrophic childhood of an incidental character, and so on; integrating all these elements requires a true lightness of touch which the show doesn’t really manage. We’re not so much talking inspiration, more homage, where every possible reference to the earlier works must be crammed in. Where the Buñuel originals succeed through the sheer style and surrealism of his immense cinematic art, these elements just seem faintly ridiculous on a brutally exposed stage. Few of the characters are likeable, and even the others are so lightly sketched in that we neither identify with them nor care about their plight. The ambassador, Raffael Santello di Santicci, is pure pantomime funny foreigner; a committed performance by Paulo Szot, but, surely, we should have left that kind of stuff in the 70s.

What Sondheim achieves so astoundingly in so many of his works – that insight into the human condition, how we form and sustain relationships, how we live with disappointment and failure – is disappointingly lacking here. Yes, there are characters with wasted lives, but that comes as no surprise to them. They realise it and don’t care about it – so why should we?

That said, it’s pretty much impossible to imagine a better production of this show. David Zinn’s amazing set mixes glass and chrome sterility with the comfort of a lavish embassy; individual faux-restaurants are suggested by lighting changes and fashionable fonts. Nigel Lilley’s gorgeous sounding orchestra has less to do than in most Sondheim shows but does it immaculately.

The production is overflowing with fantastic actors who make the show immensely watchable despite so much of its content. Rory Kinnear sets just the right level of privilege as Leo Brink, knowing that it won’t matter that they haven’t booked a table and that he’s still in his loungewear because he’s Leo Brink. Jane Krakowski’s Marianne is a brilliant study of a beautiful but inane wife, never changing out of her peignoir, celebrating her love of the superficial in one of the show’s most successful songs, Shine.

Jesse Tyler Ferguson has a whale of a time as plastic surgeon Paul, viciously air-kissing Martha Plimpton’s wonderfully excessively demanding Claudia. Chumisa Dornford-May has one of the best singing voices in the company and gives us a delightfully sullen Fritz, quietly but amusingly ineptly working to overthrow capitalism; she is matched by the always superb Richard Fleeshman as the Soldier, the epitome of romanticism and the only character who seems to have true emotions. His “Soldier’s Dream” is a mischievously constructed piece that delights in breaking the fourth wall and is an undoubted highlight of the show.

Cameron Johnson is a decent Colonel Martin and Harry Hadden-Paton very entertaining as the wavering, people-pleasing Bishop. Tracie Bennett brings terrific humour as well as her astounding voice to the character of “Woman” – basically, all the incidental female roles in the show – and at our performance, Edward Baker-Duly was an excellent understudy as “Man”, including that alarmingly regretful waiter and the sinister butler Windsor. Together the whole cast are a formidable team who don’t put a foot wrong, and bring a feelgood factor to a show that otherwise lacks a feelgood factor.

There are some entertaining moments and flashes of classic Sondheim, but overall the show is a draining experience. It’s a curiosity and completes one’s own private Sondheim Collection, but it doesn’t enhance the great man’s reputation; and the very heavy, unmusical second act is, frankly, an endurance test. But it is a great production, and Sondheim aficionados will want to see it under any circumstances. I can only suggest that you see it for yourself.

3-starsThree-sy Does It!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

Two Disappointing For More!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

4-starsFour They’re Jolly Good Fellows

 

Review – The Comedy About Spies, Noel Coward Theatre, London, 13th May 2025

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London 1961. MI6 and the CIA are competing to stop the KGB from gaining the secret weapon that could put an end to the USA – so, quite an important mission, then. Le Carré? Fleming? No – it’s the return of Mischief Theatre and their new madcap comedy about spies, innovatively entitled The Comedy About Spies.

Henry Lewis’ and Henry Shields’ brilliant new show creates ridiculously fanciful situations and manages to cram in every conceivable joke along the way whilst always maintaining a tiny foothold on reality and a genuine sense of peril, vital ingredients for successful farce. So when the unwitting hopeless romantic Bernard Wright accidentally parachutes himself into a sea of espionage by surprising his girlfriend Rosemary at her bankers’ conference (clue: it isn’t a bankers’ conference), there’s never any doubt that his life is in danger from all the double and triple-crossing, nor is there any doubt that he will nevertheless win the day.

The comedy standard is established from the very beginning with a marvellously silly MI6 scene of multiple confusion over Codename letters which works so well because the characters take it seriously even though it’s outrageously barmy. The laughter never lets up with a combination of superb physical comedy – Dave Hearn’s super keen CIA agent Lance Buchanan does some amazing stunts; beautifully funny characterisations – Henry Lewis’ vain actor Douglas Woodbead stands out; and terrifically ludicrous wordplay. One of my favourite moments was the question Have you seen Rosemary? to which the perplexed answer is the lady or the herb?

Perhaps the most surprising aspect to The Comedy About Spies is that, despite its profound silliness and extraordinary plot twists, it makes sense as a thriller, and the denouement (for want of a better word) genuinely creates some gasps of amazement from the already thrilled audience.

David Farley’s superb set also helps the comedy go with a swing, with a charmingly convincing foyer of the Hotel Piccadilly, but perhaps best with the brilliant dolls’ house effect creation of four hotel bedrooms in a colour coded box, which amplifies the out of one door and into another aspect of the farce, and includes wonderful comic pratfalls involving a hole in the floor/ceiling, phone wires extending in and out of different rooms and a seagull in the wardrobe (obvs). There’s also an excellent representation of the lift shaft that Bernard bravely navigates, enhanced by Johanna Town’s subtle and clever lighting. And there’s a couple of chest-hurtingly hilarious moments featuring projectile dummies and immaculate comic timing.

The cast are uniformly superb, acting as a terrific ensemble as well as bringing fantastic characterisations to every role. Henry Lewis is one of those actors who can make you laugh with the glint of an eye, and his robust thespian Woodbead is a brilliant creation, whether constantly getting his tuxedo Shiraz’d, or playing out a hopeless audition as the next James Bond to the wrong audience; and I loved the running joke of his being either an actor or a cricketer.Dave Hearn excels with his physical comedy, Charlie Russell and Chris Leask are hilarious as the Soviet spies, she all hard-nosed ruthlessness and he all trying to understand the backstory of his cover persona. Nancy Zamit is great as the CIA agent’s mom, encouraging her son to be the best spy he can be – or is she???Greg Tannahill is a delight as the hotel manager going out of his way to gain five stars for his establishment, andAdele James is fantastic as the long suffering Rosemary, fighting off the advances of Bernard whilst trying to forward her own agenda. And Henry Shields’ Bernard is a hilarious characterisation of an innocent abroad, doing his best to make sense of all the spying whilst he’s only comfortable in the world of baked goods.

A riot from start to finish, minutely planned, plotted and executed, with blisteringly good performances and every opportunity taken to make you laugh. Outstanding!

 

 

Five Alive, Let Theatre Thrive!

Review – Comedy Crate at the Charles Bradlaugh, Northampton, 8th May 2025

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Thursday saw another bumper package of comedy at the Charles Bradlaugh, Northampton, courtesy of the Comedy Crate, including a last minute change of cast which propelled natural headliner Matt Richardson into the role of MC, and what a brilliant host he was. Perfectly mixing the usual duties of getting to know the crowd with delivering excellent original material, he kept the comedic bar very high throughout the evening.

So not only did we get to meet investment fraud investigator Samantha – who turned Matt’s tax bill material back on him to blistering effect – we also discovered eighteen year old twins Tighe (?) and Felix, who accepted all the teasing that deserved like the well brought-up good sports they clearly are. Matt also told us stories of life in his rural Oxfordshire village, with his pushy GP friend and the posh geezers who hang around the Sainsburys Local. Brilliant and very believable observations of wannabe tough lads who can’t help the fact that they’re called Julian and go skiing twice a year. Fantastic stuff!

Either by gifted booking or hilarious chance, to celebrate VE night we had comics from all over the world. All three acts were new to us, which always makes for an exciting line up. First off was Hubert Mayr, a 39 year old Austrian stuck in a London which he can’t afford – he should come to Northampton, things are much cheaper here. Much of his material is based on how he came to the UK in the first place, and how he is planning to return to Austria soon. He has an engagingly nervous energy which belies his Schwarzeneggar style voice but works very well with his observations as an outsider on life in the UK. Extremely funny material that gently harks back to the war, but with some modern gems too, such as how to deal with noisy neighbours. Very entertaining!

Next up was Blank Peng, from a quiet, rural area of China that only has about 40 million inhabitants. Great attacking delivery with excellent material that compares life in the UK with China and particularly grapples with those elements of her homeland that make the Brits uncomfortable – child labour, TikTok data-harvesting, and nuclear war for starters. Despite a strong accent which I must confess meant I didn’t catch everything she said at first, she has adopted beautiful idiomatic use of the English language which makes her material even more hard-hitting and relatable. Some surprising engagement with the audience too!

Our headliner was Mike Rice from Ireland, who creates an instant rapport with his very matey persona – he’s definitely the kind of performer you can imagine sharing a pint with. On the day that a new (American) Pope was proclaimed, he had some terrific material about what that means for the Catholic Church. Leading his funny stories on to  where angels fear to tread, he had me in hysterics with his vision of Donald Trump being taken from behind in jail by a tiny Mexican, and he has atruly hilarious sequence about a threesome and the special support that his pal was able to lend during the process. Effortlessly funny, and absolutely first class!

As we head into the summer, the Comedy Crate goes into Edinburgh Preparation mode, with many Fringe Previews lined up all over town (and indeed the county), with the highlight being the Comedy Crate Weekender on 12th – 13th July. Not to be missed!

Review – Titus Andronicus, Royal Shakespeare Company at the Swan Theatre, Stratford-upon-Avon, 29th April 2025

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One of Shakespeare’s earliest hits, Titus Andronicus holds a strange place in the Bard’s canon. Its authorship is a matter of some debate; perhaps he wrote it all, or some of it, or it was based on something written by the likes of Kyd or Marlowe. Unusually for Shakespeare, it’s a Roman tragedy but not based on historical characters – indeed Ovid’s Metamorphoses appears to have been one of the prime sources that inspired its writing. It was probably conceived as a crowd-pleaser, because revenge comedies were all the rage in 1588. But tastes change, and for the last three centuries it’s been seen as rather unworthy of Shakespeare’s pen.

TitusPerhaps it’s because we’re so used to Shakespeare subtly weaving so many threads and nuances into his plays that Titus Andronicus is looked down upon. Apart from an early exploration of a London coming to terms with racism in the character of Aaron, and the play’s substantial derogatory use of the word black, primarily it’s all about revenge, pure and simple. Revenge is key; one of the most natural reactions that man can have, and one of the most ignoble. The play’s long first scene includes the first retaliatory act – Titus’ decision to have Tamora’s eldest son Alarbus murdered, simply because his own sons were killed in the war against the Goths. And from there, vengeance follows vengeance, and it all gets a bit out of hand.

LaviniaThe big question to ask of any production of Titus Andronicus is, just how gruesome do you want it to be? And I think the consensus is to be as bloody as you dare. Max Webster’s production is a surprisingly successful combination of high on blood but low on violence, in that most of the murders are committed in a very stylised manner, with a distanced swish of a knife and a flash of dramatic lighting that nevertheless causes the blood to flow. It’s also high on sinister too; whenever the pulley system on stage starts working, and a noose or a hook comes into view, you know there’s only going to be one outcome. As the death count increases, the styling becomes more intricate but more desperate; towards the end we’re reduced to sloshing from a bucket and using a couple of hosepipes.

Aaron Chiron DemetriusThe play starts on a high, with its riveting, long, opening scene where brothers Saturninus and Bassianus are setting out the reasons to the crowd why they should become the next Roman emperor; only for the honour to be given to Titus, who then bestows it on Saturninus. So much for democracy. The atmosphere is electric with political wrangling and backstabbing; and every aspect of the story is told clearly and powerfully. However, the second scene, between Aaron, Chiron and Demetrius is much harder to follow, and I felt a lull in the energy. It wasn’t until the return of Tamora that the storytelling became clear again.

CastJoanna Scotcher’s clinical stark white stage is the perfect setting for the intrigues and revenge killings to be carried out, allowing for a powerful contrast between the bright red blood and the pristine white marble. Lee Curran has plenty of opportunities for gripping lighting effects as the death count rises; however, whilst bringing a dead body wrapped in a sheet on stage with a bright fluorescent tube next to it probably looks great from the stalls, it appears clumsy and obvious from the galleries. And, whilst we’re on the subject of looking silly, although the stylised killings are very effective, the posturing and sub-balletic scene changes where benches are whirled, and a ladder passed here there and everywhere before finally going off stage just looks like the backstage crew have been replaced by members from Cirque de Soleil.

TitusIt’s vital for there to be some comic touches, as otherwise the play’s relentless piling of wanton horror on wanton horror just becomes too much. There’s a delightful moment of anachronistic use of music (usually something that irritates me personally!) when Aaron hums Delibes’ Lakme whilst preparing a grisly fate. And Max Webster builds in some delicate and surprisingly subtle moments of gallows humour, aided of course by Simon Russell Beale’s immaculate feel for comedy and killer line delivery.

Lavinia and TamoraThere are some excellent performances, although I also thought a few were a little underpowered. Joshua James is outstanding as the belligerent, sullen Saturninus who looks on leadership as his God-given right; his interpretation of the role is spot on throughout, with more than a little of John Hurt-style Caligula and Rik Mayall thrown in. As a contrast, Ned Costello’s brother Bassianus conveys all the character’s humility and likeability that might have made him a good, if perhaps unspectacular emperor.

CastIn a fascinating change from the original, Titus’ brother Marcus is now his sister Marcia Andronicus, played with great commitment and sincerity by Emma Fielding, bringing out the character’s decency, supportiveness and common sense. Letty Thomas gives a heartbreaking performance as Lavinia, from her initial shock followed by dignity when chosen as Saturninus’ wife despite being engaged to his brother, to her total destruction by the rapists Chiron and Demetrius.

Tamora and AaronWendy Kweh gives a very strong performance as Tamora, at first desperate in defeat and willing to do anything to save the life of her son; then inspired by revenge to submit to marriage to Saturninus whilst working with her lover Aaron to encourage the rape of Lavinia and the eventual fall of the House of Andronicus. And Natey Jones is excellent as Aaron, a complex villain who, whilst aspiring to be as evil an assassin as possible, still cherishes the baby in his arms. I did admire the not-so-subtle allusion to an Elon Musk’s DOGE moment.

TitusIt will be the casting of Simon Russell Beale in the title role that will attract the most theatregoers to this production, and he is, indeed, fantastic. A tremendous stage presence, you never sense for a moment that there might be a hint of insanity in his Titus as he maintains a superb dignity throughout, even in the most tortured moments of despair. Some commentators decry the play for its prosaic violence; but you only have to hear a few lines delivered by Mr Beale to appreciate the glorious poetry that lurks just beneath its surface. And his performance is a constant source of surprise; when death and devastation is all around him, all he can do is stop and laugh at the ridiculousness and hopelessness of the situation. His laughter is shocking and bizarre, but it’s totally right.

ChefThe famous “banquet” scene, where Chef Titus serves Tamora and Saturninus a pie containing her dead sons, is performed with a lovely balance of horror and comedy, and ends up with the bloodiest final tableau. It’s no surprise that the ticket holders nearest the stage are given protective blankets to shield themselves from spraying blood – gore blimey, indeed. The production treads a delicate balance between the horror and the hilarious and largely gets it right. The audiences of 1588 would be delighted to know that Titus Andronicus is still in safe hands – unless they get cut off.

Production photos by Marc Brenner

4-starsFour They’re Jolly Good Fellows!

Review – Much Ado About Nothing, RSC at the Royal Shakespeare Theatre, Stratford-upon-Avon, 24th April 2025

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Attending a Royal Shakespeare Company production of a well-known and much-loved Shakespeare classic (I guess they’re all classics!) is an adventure into the imagination. Which setting will the fevered brain of a gifted director (in this case Michael Longhurst) have chosen to take us away from its traditional location? In this production, the house of Leonato, the Governor of Messina, and a visit from the Prince of Aragon, Don Pedro, still takes place in Messina – but at the final of the European Cup, where Messina FC have smashed those upstarts from Madrid FC, and tasted footie glory. Leonato owns the club, Don Pedro is the manager, Benedick is their captain and Claudio their new star player. The re-allocation of roles doesn’t end there; Beatrice is a sports reporter, Margaret works in PR for Leonato’s company and even Dogberry is head of security at the stadium.

FootballersWhen you enter the auditorium, it’s like you’ve mistakenly gone to see Dear England instead – all LED banners with football scores, team lists, formation diagrams, etc. We’re just inside the tunnel and can see through the gap into the huge, excited crowd and the green grass of the pitch. Interview cameras and screens are all set up. And, whilst, on the face of it, this has nothing to do with Much Ado About Nothing, visually, it’s a feast and really makes you excited for what’s about to happen next.

More FootballersUnfortunately, what happens next is a very confusing, messy, noisy scene where the victorious players take to the stage, managers, staff and players all congratulate and tease each other, and players jump in the bath. You also realise that the words you are hearing – those that you can make out at least, because the speech is very garbled in this opening scene – are not that faithful to those of the beloved Bard. I don’t recall, for example, chants of He’s gone in the bath, he’s gone in the bath in the original. It quickly becomes clear that these early scenes are merely a serving suggestion of the Much Ado we know and love and that some huge liberties have been taken with the text. It’s at moments like this that one discovers one’s own purist level – and mine was certainly crossed.

LeonatoHowever, as the production progresses, it becomes clear that the football analogy doesn’t really work, and the links between the plot and the Beautiful Game become fewer and slighter, so that, by the end, it feels like a relatively straightforward modern day interpretation of the play, with some very effective use of social media and modern tech. Don John’s deception of Claudio into believing that Hero has been unfaithful before their marriage is shown like a cross between deepfake and a revenge porn attack, with Hero’s face being digitally manipulated onto Margaret’s body whilst she’s filmed in flagrante delicto on Hero’s bed. The simplicity of the deception is surprisingly disturbing; and of course the social media comments depict Twitter/X at its most vicious.

Benedick hidingElsewhere, the famous scenes where Benedick and Beatrice separately overhear others talking about how much they are mutually desired work well. Benedick, who has been having a sports massage, hides himself in and around the portable massage bed. Beatrice hides herself behind a desk which had previously been used as a DJ mixing deck, with the result that she accidentally knocks a button which turns the disco lights on to the sound of I’m horny, horny, horny, horny. Ah yes; I hadn’t mentioned the use of music yet. There’s a lot of it. And it’s a mixture of pop classics and techno thump – and to be fair, it’s very entertaining and fits well. Who knew that the drunken Leonato would end the masked ball crooning Frank Sinatra’s My Way.

InterviewJon Bausor’s set is nothing if not arresting; the pool in the middle of the stage acts as the bath in the footballers’ changing room, as well as the centrepiece of Leonato’s garden – although a laborious entry by two backstage technicians adding a fountain to it during a scene is clumsy and distracting and adds very little to the effect. Upstairs opens to reveal Hero’s bedroom, although the angle from the stalls doesn’t always  make it clear what’s happening up there. However, the football and social media imagery work extremely well thanks to Tal Rosner’s excellent video design.

BenedickAs you would expect, there are some very good performances, although I was never convinced that Nick Blood’s otherwise very relatable Benedick was ever truly against marriage; with his successful football career taking up all his time, he just hadn’t needed it yet. But he brings out the humour from the text beautifully, both the original and the new elements; and participates in a very funny act of physical comedy when his massage towel is swiped away and plunges himself in the pool to protect his modesty – excellent ball control there. Freema Agyeman takes the cut-throat life of Beatrice the TV reporter into the character’s private life with her brutal, professional dismissiveness of Benedick, and delights in thwarting him with as little fuss as possible; her surprise instruction Kill Claudio is delivered as though it were next on her to do list, and his instant refusal just blanks him out of her life (temporarily, of course).

BeatriceDaniel Adeosun is very good as Claudio, highly believable as the sporting hero and easily duped fiancé; Eleanor Worthington-Cox’s Hero is more of a fun-lover than she is normally portrayed, Olivier Huband is a charismatic Don Pedro, and Jay Taylor is excellent as the wretched Borachio, doing Don John’s dirty work. There’s a gasp-inducing moment of stage combat when, infuriated by what Borachio has done, Mr Huband just head butts Mr Taylor, and it’s extremely effective! The portrayal of Dogberry and his team can often come across as dated and laborious in this play – a bit like the Porter in Macbeth it can either be astounding or cringeworthy – and I’m afraid the characterisations in this production didn’t really work for me. But there’s also excellent support from Nojan Khazai as the devious Don John, Gina Bramhill as Margaret and Tanya Franks as Antonia, Leonato’s wife.

Hero and ClaudioOnce the whole football theme starts to fade away, then the excellence of Shakespeare’s play starts to take shape; so despite the quality of the production and performances, for me this is only a partly successful show. But there is a lot to enjoy – just take a chill pill if you’re a purist!

 

Production photos by Marc Brenner

3-starsThree-sy Does It!

Review – Muriel’s Wedding The Musical, Curve Theatre, Leicester, 23rd April 2025

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Remember the 1994 film? Of course you do! Muriel’s Wedding received pretty much worldwide acclaim for being a brash, no holds barred comedy where the ugly duckling becomes – if not a swan, then at least a fully grown duck who is completely at ease with who she is. The musical, with music and lyrics by Kate Miller-Heidke and Keir Nuttall, opened in Sydney in 2017, toured Australia in 2019 and has finally re-emerged with its UK premiere at the Leicester Curve.

How well does it transfer to the stage, thirty-one (really?) years later, and as a musical? It’s certainly helped by having an excellent production; director Simon Phillips assembled a great creative team around him, and it shows from the start. Matt Kinley’s set is outstanding and combined with Natasha Chivers’ lighting and Andrzej Goulding’s video design, is a delight to the eyes and convincingly takes us from Leicester to the bright lights of Porpoise Spit. The poker machines at the RSL, the social media littering the back wall, and the suggestions of the sun-drenched Australian coast and the unique combination of pizzazz and sordidness that is Sydney are all beautifully recreated.

Gabriela Tylesova’s costumes convey perfectly all aspects of Australian life; from the beach bums to the suburban household and the glamour and tastelessness that are vital to the existence of the vacuous town girls. Tom Slade’s band does a tremendous job of recreating the sounds of Abba as well as the new songs of Miller-Heidke and Nuttall. And there are also some excellent performances, more of which later.

However, there’s one thing that drags this show down; and, sadly, that’s the show itself. I wondered to what extent the story of Muriel’s Wedding would appear dated today, and the answer is – very. When the film came out, fat-shaming was funny and misogyny was a giggle. Today, much of the content of the show seems extremely cruel, with Muriel being picked on for her style (lack of it) and weight (excess of it), and Betty being mocked – and deceived – for being a maternal drudge who can’t work out that 80-50=30. In fact the story is so misogynistic that even the women hate women. But the character of Muriel doesn’t help herself because she is so extremely unlikeable anyway. A liar and a thief, she doesn’t care about swindling her parents or spinning sob stories to her best friend; maybe in the film she was an amusing fantasist, but here the character simply uses her position and charisma to deceive and break the law.

Scenes are over-extended and padded out, so that the two hours forty-five minutes feels extremely long. Most of the songs don’t move the story forward and none of them is memorable. The humour is often very lazy – joking about forgetting all the letters that can follow LGBT has been done to death, frankly – and there’s a scene and song that is based completely on their inability to remember and pronounce the surname Shkuratov – it took me back to the days of TV’s Mind Your Language, laughing at foreign accents, and no one wants to go there again. In fact a couple of the lyrics rely on stupid verbal sounds rather than words; here’s a quarter of the lyrics for the chorus of the bullying number Can’t Hang:  “See we’re like ah–ah–ah–ah–ah–ah–ah, And you’re like ugh–ugh–ugh–ugh–ugh–ugh–ugh” (the other three quarters are very similar). And here’s the refrain of Meet the Heslops: “Wowww! Wow-ow-ow What? Close one (gasp) Hah! Yeah!”  (Repeat ad nauseam).

The show frequently feels crude and lacks insight; in fact, the only insight I could get from it is how life can be like an Abba song. But even then, there is something creepy about Abba becoming gentle angels of death as they encourage Muriel’s mum Betty into suicide because she doesn’t want to be a burden on anyone. However, that’s not to criticise the Abba sequences in the show which are by far its best moments; especially Bronte Alice-Tadman and Jasmine Hackett as Anna-Frid and Agnetha, who sing superbly and truly convey that Abba feel; Aaron Tsindos’ and Jamie Doncaster’s Benny and Bjorn are comedy Scandi stereotypes that don’t do justice to the originals.

There is, fortunately, a terrific star performance from Megan Ellis as Muriel. A wonderful stage presence who can convey any emotion and whose voice is a dream; it’s a fantastic performance. Annabel Marlow is full of spirit as her friend Rhonda, and there’s a strong performance from Darren Day as Muriel’s corrupt father Bill and Laura Medforth as her brow-beaten mother Betty. And Ethan Pascal Peters is excellent as the underachieving Brice Nobes, even if the repeated jokes about his name get tedious.

The overwhelming feeling that the show gave me is a sense of sadness. Sad, obviously, because elements of the story are extremely sad, with the death of Betty, her husband Bill who only cares about himself, and the other family members who realise too late that they can’t have their mum back. But the misogyny is depressing, and it’s tough to be asked to identify with a central character who, deep down, is not a nice person. And I think it’s sad that a much-loved and admired film has been reshaped into something that basically doesn’t work.

The midweek matinee at the Curve theatre had plenty of empty seats, and I seriously doubt the ability of this show to make much of a splash after its few weeks in Leicester. It was touch and go as to whether we would leave at the interval, but the performance of Megan Ellis convinced us to go back, and to be fair it does improve a little in the second half. Muriel’s Wedding runs at the Curve until 10th May.

Two Disappointing For More!

Review – Punch, Young Vic, London, 16th April 2025

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After an afternoon following Gareth Southgate’s progress in Dear England, we continued our James Graham day with a visit to the Young Vic to see his Punch, a transfer of the 2024 Nottingham Playhouse production with the same cast and creative team. It’s based on the true story of Jacob Dunne, who killed 28 year old James Hodgkinson in 2011 with one fatal punch in an unprovoked attack. He received a two and a half year sentence for manslaughter, served fourteen months in prison, and afterwards met his victim’s parents through a restorative justice programme. He has since championed awareness of One Punch violence, the benefits of restorative justice, as well as giving support to victims of crime and violence.

Punch is based on Dunne’s own book, Right from Wrong, so you can be assured that it’s as close to the truth as possible. It’s a blistering production of a riveting story, told with compassion and humanity by a fantastic cast. Anna Fleischle’s set convincingly places you in the concrete Meadows estate in Nottingham, with dark slopes and walkways with metal bars, and you can easily imagine the kind of environment in which Jacob, Raf, Clare and others grew up. Robbie Butler’s lighting smartly takes us from day to night; one particularly imaginative effect is how it suggests the fires caused during rioting and looting. James Graham is currently unmatched in his ability to take a true life story and express it for a wider audience; his feeling for fragmented conversation is pinpoint accurate, and, as always, he blends acutely raw emotions with humour.

There are no villains here. Jacob grew up as an ordinary lad. He gave into temptations as he got older, deprioritising school in search of fun and cash; his involvement in the moment of madness that killed James and changed his life forever was triggered by a response of loyalty – his mates were involved in “action” and therefore he had to step in. That was the code of conduct. Most people would regard loyalty as a positive attribute. And so many of us are guilty of acting first and thinking afterwards; it’s just rare that it has such disastrous consequences. That’s certainly one of the take home messages of the play – to some extent, something like this could happen to so many of us.

The play also shows the devastating effect of the crime on others. This is not just a matter between Jacob, John and the legal system. John’s parents, Joan and David, are left bereft, heartbroken, and in a vacuum. They’ve no idea why their son was killed, and indeed they don’t find out until they meet Jacob during the restorative justice procedure years later. Jacob’s mother loses her job as a child minder, specifically because she is barred from the work due to the crime he committed. Thus she loses her home, her income and her physical and mental health. He becomes estranged from Sam, his younger brother, cocooned in his room, at a time when Sam needed all the support a big brother could give. They say no man is an island – that’s certainly the case here.

Aside from David Shields’ performance as Jacob, the other five cast members weave in and out of their various roles with remarkable dexterity, literally at the drop of a hat or removal of a jumper; a superb ensemble performance from them all. Alec Boaden excels as the rascally but cowardly Raf, timid, uncertain Sam and the fair-minded detective Villiers. Emma Pallant is also excellent as Jacob’s mum and probation officer Wendy; as is Shalisha James-Davis as Clare, the local girl who becomes a nurse and as Nicola, the charity worker from Remedi who brings Jacob and John’s parents together. Tony Hirst convinces in a range of diverse roles including John’s father David, finding it impossible to balance the need to move forward with his love for his lost son, unable to forgive.

Julie Hesmondhalgh is stunning as Joan; a superb portrayal of a kindly, confused, practical but anguished mother trying to make sense of it all. The scene where Joan and David meet Jacob is played with such agonising emotion that it is impossible for your eyes not to well up. But it is David Shields who stands out with his most compelling performance as Jacob. A powerful, energetic, physical stage presence; totally believable, and despite the terrible thing that Jacob did, you completely connect with him. In his first major theatre role, Mr Shields is the kind of actor you can’t stop watching when they’re on stage; surely a star career lies ahead.

The Young Vic run is almost sold out, but the production will transfer to the Apollo Theatre in September. A must-see.

Five Alive Let Theatre Thrive!

Review – Dear England, National Theatre, Olivier Theatre, London, 16th April 2025

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If you were to write a letter to your football team, what would it say? I’d write something like: Dear W*** H**, When you get it right, you get it so right, but you exasperate me when you get it wrong. However, you’re in my heart and my soul, and you’ll always be part of who I am. Then imagine sending that letter to England – if you are English, that is –  and see if it fits with your feelings about both the national football team, and the country as a whole.

James Graham’s Dear England has only been around since 2023 but is already on its third run, having transferred from the National to the West End in October 2023, and is now back at the Olivier. It’s pretty much the same production with many of the same cast but the text has been updated to take account of recent footie developments. I didn’t see it in 2023, nor was I able to catch many of the cinema screenings that followed; but I was determined to catch it this time around, having heard sensational things about it.

If you’ve been living under a rock for the last couple of years and don’t know what it’ s about, the play traces the fortunes of Gareth Southgate as England manager, from being given the job on a temporary basis for a couple of months in 2016 following the “resignation” of Sam Allardyce, to his own resignation in 2024. James Graham describes the play as a “fictionalised account of the struggles and successes of England’s football teams” although many of its characters are real people; not only the players, but the FA staff, commentators, pundits and politicians, and there’s enormous fun in recognising how accurately some of these famous people are portrayed.

Its large cast and busy staging have tremendous impact. The combination of Es Devlin’s set design, Evie Gurney’s costumes, Jon Clark’s lighting, Dan Balfour and Tom Gibbons’ sound, Ellen Kane and Hannes Langolf’s movement and, especially, Ash J Woodward’s amazing video design stay in your head long after curtain down. A dream team of creatives, if ever there was one. As an aside, the production’s use of music is incredibly effective – the association of songs with football is well known but this production brings it into powerful focus.

The story of Southgate’s approach to the job is fascinating, including how he ruffled so many feathers with his innovations, particularly the use of sports psychology, having been so damaged himself by his famous penalty miss in 1996. If anyone needed to write a Dear England letter, it was Southgate. But the play is so much more than just the story of one man’s journey. It’s also more than just the team’s development. It’s a fascinating look at what it means to be part of a team, particularly one that has existed for 150 years, and how a team deals with an outsider – in this instance, Pippa Grange, the psychologist that Southgate brings in to help. It also explores what it is like to be that outsider.

The play also considers what it means to be English, and what that famous flag represents – both positive and negative. Even more, it’s an examination of the effects of carrying the weight of the hopes of the nation on your shoulders, and how your success or failure directly affects tens of millions of people. That’s one very heavy responsibility. Fortunately, Graham’s writing balances the emotions with humour, and this is an extremely funny play, as well as bringing back all the excitement and suspense of significant moments in England games. Act One ends with the Russia 2018 World Cup, finally breaking the curse of the England penalty shoot-out, and it’s still as thrilling today as it was then.

Director Rupert Goold has created a superb ensemble to represent the England team; their interaction, movement skills and laddish boisterousness makes you forget that they are actors – you really feel that they are footballers. Everyone shows superb commitment, and whilst it is impossible to name each cast member, there are several outstanding performances. Ryan Whittle steals every scene with his uncanny and hilarious portrayal of the ultra-thoughtful Harry Kane, as does Josh Barrow as the chirpy, bouncy Jordan Pickford. Tristan Waterson is excellent as the unpredictable Dele Alli, and Jude Carmichael shows tremendous promise in his professional debut as Marcus Rashford, aloof until he can start recognising his own demons. The always reliable John Hodgkinson is superb in his several roles including FA chairman Greg Clarke; having briefly met Mr Clarke a few years ago I can personally testify what an accurate portrayal it is.

Liz White is great as Pippa Grange, employing all her character’s own skills and knowledge to survive in the challenging – and misogynistic – world into which she is thrown, and Matt Bardock is brilliant as the old school team analyst Mike Webster, struggling to keep up with Southgate’s vision for the future. Leading the squad, literally, is Gwilym Lee’s fantastic performance as Gareth Southgate; not only recreating him so accurately in appearance, but convincingly conveying that struggle between strength and vulnerability, influence and insecurity that combine to create his complex personality.

It’s a remarkable play, written with true affection, that carries us through a sea of triumphs and calamities, and ends with such a positive message – a truly feelgood work. I had expected it to be excellent – but not this excellent. If you love football, or if you consider yourself English, this play is for you. It runs at the Olivier until 24th May, then transfers to the Lowry, Salford, for a month and embarks on a UK tour (specifically England!) from September to March.

Five Alive Let Theatre Thrive!