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Review – Hello Dolly! London Palladium, 17th July 2024

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Thinking back on some of the stand-out critical notices relating to some of the big opening nights in theatre history, one of my favourites is Walter Kerr in The Herald Tribune on the opening night of Hello Dolly in 1964: “Don’t bother holding on your hats… you’ll only be throwing them into the air!” – I may be paraphrasing here, but you get the picture. A big night, with a big show, fronted by a big star – that’s the secret of Hello Dolly. Over the years, it’s been synonymous with the likes of Ginger Rogers, Betty Grable, Phyllis Diller, Ethel Merman, and, the Dolly of them all, Carol Channing. And now there’s a new star to add to this dolly mix – Imelda Staunton.

There aren’t many shows that you look forward to for five years, but Imelda Staunton was announced as the new Dolly last decade, with the big show set to take place at the Savoy Theatre (if I remember rightly) in the summer of 2020. But we all remember what happened in the summer of 2020, when politicians partied whilst the rest of us lived in isolation. Plans for joyous events like a revival of Hello Dolly obviously had to be shelved. Fortunately, you can’t keep a good Dolly down and in 2024 it’s finally come to fruition on the glorious stage of the London Palladium.

It’s a simple story of simple folk; curmudgeonly half-millionaire (we are talking about a long time ago) Horace Vandergelder has engaged the services of matchmaker Dolly Levi to find him a wife. Horace runs a Hay and Seed merchants, where his underlings Cornelius Hackl and Barnaby Tucker have no lives of their own and no time to themselves. But one day, Horace must go to New York to meet a potential new wife, and Cornelius and Barnaby decide to shut up the shop and go to New York for an adventure of their own. Dolly also has plans up her sleeves – engineer it so that she marries Horace, and if Cornelius and Barnaby can also meet and fall in love with a couple of New York girls, that would be a day well spent. Rest assured, it’s a happy ending with four weddings in the finale!

Hello Dolly benefits from a – largely – superb score by Jerry Herman and a surprisingly funny book by Michael Stewart; no wonder that original Broadway run lasted for 2,844 performances. As well as the memorable title theme, you’ve got the stirring Before the Parade Passes By and Put On Your Sunday Clothes, the witty It Takes a Woman, Elegance and So Long Dearie, the emotional It Only Takes a Moment and Ribbons Down My Back – and the irrepressible Waiters Gallop. The only song that strikes me as being completely outdated and probably worth skipping is Dancing, where Cornelius discovers, lo and behold, that he can dance. Ten years earlier, Salad Days did it better with Look at Me (I’m Dancing). There’s only so far you can indulge that whimsy.

As I was watching the performance of Ribbons Down My Back, I remembered how much I hated that song when I was younger; slow, ponderous and thoroughly boring, I thought. I hear it now and I relish in its gorgeous swapping from minor to major and its subtle lyrics that tell you so much about the character of Irene without making it obvious. Sometimes musical theatre is wasted on the young! That use of a song, to get deeply into a characterisation, is also beautifully realised in Before the Parade Passes By, which is where Dolly realises this is probably her one last chance to return to the world of the living; and – more frivolously – It Takes a Woman, which tells us so much about Horace’s misogyny and thorough laziness!

You already knew that the London Palladium is a massive stage, and you need huge sets to make the maximum impact. Rae Smith’s design is pretty successful on this count; I really admired the use of the streetcar in Before the Parade, giving a wonderful sense of movement on the stage, and the vital sweeping staircase at the Harmonia Gardens restaurant is tasteful and stylish rather than gaudy and glitzy. And that is the watchword for the whole production; taste and style predominate over the brash and brazen. And that’s very suitable for our new Dolly, Imelda Staunton, who is a pint-sized powerhouse rather than a domineering, in-your-face life force like Carol Channing. This production feels very slightly toned down to accommodate Ms Staunton’s interpretation of the role; much more toned down than Ms Channing, but then even Brian Blessed is more toned down than her.

This thoughtful, realistic Dolly comes to the fore most clearly in the famous restaurant/Hello Dolly scene halfway through the second act. Previous Dollies have relished the thought of performing the big number, and come out on stage, all guns blazing, ready to deliver a rip-roaring good time. Ms Staunton pares the performance back, to bring out all Dolly’s insecurities about returning to a place where she had such good times in the past – but it’s been so long now, she’s lost her confidence and her stride, and she doesn’t even know if they’ll be happy to see her again. So at least the first half of this scene concentrates on exposing her fears and gradually seeing her return to her usual self as she realises she’s been accepted back. It’s a very bold way of performing this song, but completely in keeping with the book and the characterisation.

I have one little cavil about this production: the stage movement and choreography relies too heavily on using the revolving stage to present characters walking purposefully from one side of the stage to the other, only to pause, so that they return to where they were before and then resume walking. It works brilliantly at first, but then it gets tedious; and by the time they were still using it in So Long Dearie, it was really annoying me! Less is more!

One thing you can certainly say about this production is that it sounds stunning throughout. Nicholas Skilbeck’s 21-piece orchestra produces exquisite arrangements and performances that fill the auditorium and make your toes curl with pleasure. And everyone’s voices, from Ms Staunton down to the members of the ensemble, are pitch-perfect and harmonise with genuine beauty. Jenna Russell can always be relied upon to deliver a superb performance, and here she gives us a playfully spirited Irene, ready – like Dolly – to take an unexpected leap into the unknown. Harry Hepple is another excellent song and dance man who brings enthusiasm and excitement to the role of Cornelius, leading the terrific Elegance quartet and delivering a powerful It Only Takes a Moment. There’s excellent support with great comedic performances by Tyrone Huntley as Barnaby and Emily Lane as Minnie, and Emily Langham steals every scene with her bawling performance as the eternally miserable Ermengarde.

Andy Nyman gives us a rather likeable Horace Vandergelder. In fact, I wondered if he could be more of a misery-guts and more terrifying to his staff. You get the feeling that Mr Nyman is so completely delighted to be performing this role at the Palladium that he forgets to be grumpy! When he finally becomes bowled over by Dolly’s charms, no one is the slightest bit surprised. And the cast is led by the brilliant Imelda Staunton, using every breath of her stunning voice to full effect, emphasising the comedic way in which Dolly wraps everyone around her little finger to do precisely what she wants them to do, but also tapping into the character’s uncertainties and internal monologues to give us a Dolly with depth, more than just the traditional glamorous showgirl.

A great night’s entertainment which sends you home with the warm glow of Feelgood Factor 50! It’s on at the Palladium until 14th September.

Five Alive, Let Theatre Thrive!

Review – Kiss Me Kate, Barbican Theatre, London, 11th July 2024

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There aren’t many musicals where there isn’t a duff song in the entire score, but Cole Porter’s fantastic Kiss Me Kate is one of them. The very definition of an Evergreen show, the new production at the Barbican features an eye-catching set, a lush orchestra and a quirkily talented cast; and it seemed a perfect opportunity to catch up with the old thing.

It was also an opportunity to reacquaint ourselves with the Barbican Theatre – it’s been an extraordinary 38 years since we were last there! And I’d forgotten what a pleasant experience it is. A huge stage, comfortable seats, terrific sightlines and a plethora of bars, cafes and toilets. I wonder what they did to upset us so much that we had to wait so long for a revisit?!

Porter’s musical retelling of The Taming of the Shrew sees actor/producer Fred Graham trying out the show in Baltimore as Petruchio opposite his starry ex, Lilli Vanessi, as Katherine. Lilli has moved on, and is now being courted by General Harrison Howell, a military bigwig who’ll promise her the earth – for at least three months. But for now, Fred and Lilli have to rub along together as best as they can for the sake of the show. Meanwhile second billing male, Bill Calhoun (Lucentio) is dating second billing female, Lois Lane (Bianca). No sooner does he earn money than he loses it through gambling; and he’s just signed a $10k IOU for one big night’s losses. However, he signed it as Fred Graham; so when two heavy gangsters turn up at the theatre to put pressure on, it’s Fred they target, not Bill. It turns out that these gangsters have an artistic streak; but not enough to prevent them from threatening Lilli when she decides she’s going to walk out of the production. Honestly, if you haven’t seen it before, it’s very easily understood when it’s acted out.

Whilst the story is good fun – although alarmingly misogynistic in some respects, just like Taming of the Shrew is – the prime interest in seeing this show is in the music. It would be unforgivable if the production cut out any of the songs; but as soon as I opened the programme, I saw that not only were we missing Were Thine That Special Face, but to add insult to injury, no From This Moment On! You might try to defend the decision to exclude it on the grounds that was originally written for a different show and was only included in the 1953 film version. But I would parry that with the fact that Could We Start Again Please was not included in the original stage version of Jesus Christ Superstar but written for the film, and woe betide any production that now excludes that song from the show. It’s common practice today to have From This Moment On sung by Harrison and Lilli in the second Act. Definitely an opportunity missed.

Fortunately all the other great numbers are there. The songs in Kiss Me Kate fall into three categories. Those that evolve naturally from the plot – Why Can’t You Behave, Always True To You in My Fashion, Another Op’nin Another Show; those that evolve from the plot of Taming of the Shrew – I’ve Come To Wive it Wealthily in Padua, I Hate Men, Where is the Life that Late I Led; and those that have absolutely nothing to do with anything – Wunderbar, Too Darn Hot, Brush Up Your Shakespeare. If you consider a typical musical theatre show to be a portrait, Kiss Me Kate comes as close as you can to a Picasso, with a dislocated smile in one corner and a nose in the other, all plonked higgledy-piggledy across the canvas. But it works; it’s just one of those amazing shows.

Bartlett Sher’s new production contains some inspired directorial decisions, and the occasional totally bizarre one – for example, in Too Darn Hot, why is nobody, erm, hot? Michael Yeargan’s striking set dominates the Barbican stage, revolving to reveal the dressing rooms and the communal backstage area, as well as the stage of this unnamed theatre in Baltimore. This gives a great opportunity to follow characters from one part of the set into another as they race around the stage in a panic, fury, or simply because they can.

The stage also juts forward to create an apron around the orchestra pit, with the effect that conductor Stephen Ridley’s head pops up in the middle of the stage floor as though he were the next tissue in a packet of Kleenexes. The apron works well as additional acting and dancing space, but the orchestra pit does create a slight distraction, especially as you spend a lot of the time worrying that someone is going to fall into it. However, you have to admit it – Stephen Ridley’s relatively massive stage orchestra sends out a sensational sound, and, from a purely audio perspective, this is about as good as it gets.

But we’ve got to consider that quirky cast head-on. Leading the team as Fred Graham is Adrian Dunbar, a much loved actor primarily because of Line of Duty but also through many other TV and stage appearances. We saw his Claudius to Cush Jumbo’s Hamlet at the Young Vic a few years ago and found him oddly underwhelming. However, he seems much more at ease as Fred Graham, with his quieter delivery very effectively conveying his sarcastic asides; he very much looks the part, and I appreciated this rather less showy interpretation of the role. He has a thoughtful singing style, in that it conveys a lot of meaning; however, what he doesn’t have is a jazz-hands singing style, and sometimes that’s exactly what you need. He underperformed Wunderbar, and slightly mixed up the lyrics of Where is the Life that Late I Led (even thought that is probably still his best moment in the show).

However, he may well have been distracted, because playing Lilli for our performance was Stephanie J Block’s understudy, Anna McGarahan. Ms McGarahan has a terrific voice, no question; I have no idea how much notice she had that she was to play the role, and one must always admire and appreciate an understudy without whom, basically, the show can’t go ahead. That said, I felt that in many of the scenes she was under-rehearsed – not her fault. This was most obvious in the physical comedy scenes which involved a level of stage combat that was amongst the least convincing I’ve ever seen. Like Mr Dunbar, she gave us a very tentative Wunderbar, and her I Hate Men had – I’m afraid – absolutely no conviction to it at all; we came out at the interval reminiscing about how good Nichola McAuliffe had sung it at the Old Vic in 1987.

This had the effect of unbalancing the performance strength, as the lower you went down the cast list, the more impressive and memorable the performances. Charlie Stemp and Georgina Onuorah are excellent as Bill and Lois, the former’s incredible ability to dance, sing and act at the same time coming to the fore whenever Anthony van Laast’s breathtaking choreography called upon his skills; and Ms Onuorah gives one of many scene-stealing performances with her powerfully and intelligently delivered Always True To You In My Fashion.

Nigel Lindsay and Hammed Animashaun give us possibly the best portrayal of the Gangsters I’ve ever seen, with brilliant characterisation, wonderful physical comedy, and a Brush Up Your Shakespeare that we all sang along to. Jack Butterworth’s Paul completely wows us leading the dance in Too Darn Hot – inviting Mr Stemp to keep up with him in a sequence that is performed to perfection – and Josie Benson as Hattie starts the show with arguably the best vocal performance of the production in Another Op’nin’, Another Show.

I guess that all boils down to the fact that – at our performance at least – it was a rather uneven presentation. However, you simply can’t not love it; and there were so many hugely enjoyable songs, scenes and performances that the temptation to book again is surprisingly strong. Kiss Me Kate continues at the Barbican through the summer until 14th September.

 

 

4-starsFour They’re Jolly Good Fellows!

Review – The School for Scandal, Royal Shakespeare Company at the Royal Shakespeare Theatre, Stratford-upon-Avon, 9th July 2024

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In these modern days of social media and tabloid press, we tend to think that celebrity gossip is a relatively recent phenomenon. But no! Almost 250 years ago that bright spark Richard Brinsley Sheridan captured the essence of tittle and tattle in his evergreen comedy The School for Scandal, which receives a timely and welcome revival this summer at the Royal Shakespeare Theatre. At the time, Sheridan was riding high on the success of his previous play, The Rivals, and had bought the Drury Lane Theatre from David Garrick and could fill it with his choice of plays and his choice of actors. Think of it as a bit like the government stacking the House of Lords but with arty types.

Lady and Sir Peter TeazleIt was this kind of gossip-based, satirical lampooning that originally brought about the censorship of plays. Henry Fielding’s Historical Register for the year 1736 was the last straw for Prime Minister Robert Walpole, who could take being teased no more, so in came censorship in an attempt to restrain the wit of the current crop of playwrights. Luckily for us, in 1777, the Deputy Examiner of Plays and puritanical Shakespeare fan, Edward Capell, disapproved of The School for Scandal, and wanted it banned. But the Lord Chamberlain at the time, Lord Hertford, overruled him – and that was just as well; how much poorer our lives would have been without the escapades of Sir Peter Teazle and the gossip of Lady Sneerwell.

Lady Sneerwell courtedI’m sure you know the story, but, in a nutshell: brothers Joseph and Charles Surface seem to live very different lives. Joseph, an ascetic and “sentimental” man, is respected by all, but Charles is a debauched drunkard, keeping ill-judged company and spending his money, rather like the late George Best, on wine, women and song – the rest he wastes. But Joseph is a hypocrite, and equally desirous of the secret company of women, no matter to whom they are attached. He keeps the company of Lady Sneerwell, the 1770s equivalent of a News of the World gossip editor, who plots and intrigues to ruin people’s lives for the sheer fun and hell of it. Into this circle comes the young and flighty Lady Teazle, recently married to Sir Peter, a man of good repute but at least twice her age. Add to the mix the return of the Surfaces’ rich uncle Oliver, his attempts to test the morality of his two nephews, and the amorous attention paid to Sir Peter’s ward Maria by the insufferable Sir Benjamin Backbite, and you have a recipe for hilarity – at the very least.

PinkThere’s just one word to describe director Tinuke Craig’s vision for this production – pink. From the lighting, to the dominant colour of the costumes, to the backdrop, to the props; if it can be pink, it is. The text gives no indication as to why this should be the case; but maybe it simply comes across as a light-hearted, cheeky, luxuriant, slightly naughty colour. I think the question to be asked is not so much why is everything pink, but more, why not?

Lady T and JosephIt’s very much a why not production, in fact. There’s no obvious reason why new scenes and entrances should start via three trap doors in the stage, rather than from the wings; but why not? Nor is there any reason why Sir Peter Teazle’s asides whilst contemplating revealing the little French milliner behind the screen to Joseph Surface should be delivered via a stonking great reverberating microphone – but why not? I’m still trying to work out exactly why that simple device is so funny. When we first witness Joseph Surface in full debauched mode, drinking and enjoying La Vie en Rose with his pals, he’s dressed like a – may I speak frankly? tart in her boudoir – whilst his mates are in corsets and nighties (all in pink, of course). Odd. Very odd, in fact; but why not?

Lady S and Mrs CThere’s an entertaining use of musical leitmotifs; including when anyone – especially Joseph – starts spouting sentiment, a serene theme drifts in, which ridicules it mercilessly. The costumes range from the fanciful to the outrageous, apart from for those characters where respectability is a watchword (albeit with Joseph, a hypocritical one.) Clever use of back projections keep us informed as to where each scene is set; this also works well for the picture gallery scene, where Joseph sells off the family heirlooms at a snip, and for revealing the faked letters that Snake has been devising.

Lady T and Sir PeterA lively, busy, packed and colourful presentation, then. However, what impresses me most about the production is that it tells what can be construed as a very complicated and confusing plot with simplicity and clarity. And whilst most of the characters beg their actors to “caricature them up”, and reduce them to two dimensions, they are all totally believable. The portrayal of Sir Peter and Lady Teazle, for example, shows them to be real people with real problems and concerns and, when you take away the fripperies, a real love for each other. Similarly, whilst Joseph Surface may – on the surface (Sheridan never wastes a surname) – be a disgrace, deep down he is a much more honest character than his seemingly pious brother.

JosephThis is all helped along by some superb performances that truly deliver the characterisations as well as the laughs. Geoffrey Streatfeild is a marvellously realistic and quietly reasonable Sir Peter, proffering confiding glances to members of the audience which engage us in his plight. Tara Tijani beautifully conveys Lady Teazle’s youthful exuberance and excesses, squealing like a spoilt child when he consents to give her more money, but realising over the course of the play that there’s more to life than expensive shopping. Stefan Adegbola’s Joseph is an excellent study of a self-aware man to whom hypocrisy comes as a given, whilst John Leader’s Charles, rather like Richard O’Brien’s Frank’n’Furter, gives himself over to absolute pleasure, but shows us the decency hidden below.

Sir OliverSiubhan Harrison commands the stage as a tremendous Lady Sneerwell, making entrances and exits sideways to allow for her ridiculous dress, plotting magnificently until she meets her match. Wil Johnson is also excellent as Sir Oliver, giving us a fine hail-fellow-well-met characterisation, but mixed up with an East End wideboy Mr Premium and a frail and humble Mr Stanley. Emily Houghton’s Mrs Candour cuts an impressive figure, beautifully gaping with awe at any precious nuggets of gossip that come her way.

SnakeThere’s great support from Tadeo Martinez as Snake, oozing mistrust from every foppish pore, Yasemin Özdemir as a no-nonsense Maria, Jason Thorpe as a petulant Crabtree, Patrick Walshe McBride as a surprisingly realistic Sir Benjamin, and, getting the biggest laugh and spontaneous round of applause of the night, Jessica Alade as the servant Lappet, whose patience with her master Charles suddenly wears alarmingly thin, with a choice of language that you definitely won’t find in the original text.

Lady SneerwellHowever, I think Sheridan would have approved of the modernisations and liberties taken with his precious script. The play’s opening speech, in this production delivered by Lady Sneerwell, casts a net over the whole world of gossip, which here includes a reference to one Baroness M – we all knew of whom she was speaking; and the epilogue, which in the text is given to Lady Teazle, here is delivered by Maria, and, to be honest, why not?

Sir PeterA very funny, and well appreciated production, that satisfies all the senses but also tells its story with commitment and clarity. Who knew that the 1770s and the 2020s had so much in common?

 

 

Production photos by Marc Brenner

4-starsFour They’re Jolly Good Fellows!

Review – Comedy Crate Edinburgh Previews – Scott Bennett and Sara Barron, The Lamplighter, Northampton, 8th July 2024

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With just a few weeks to go before the Edinburgh Fringe kicks off, Northampton is in full Edinburgh Preview Season with another of the Comedy Crate’s top value and great entertainment gigs giving the chance of a useful preview show to some amazing names in comedy. It’s always fascinating to witness comedy shows being crafted and honed before your very eyes, in preparation for the Big Festival ahead. And Monday’s sold out show (yes, you don’t often see “sold out” and “Monday” in the same sentence) provided two hours of super-impressive comedy as two comedians dotted their I’s and crossed their T’s in the pursuit of perfection.

First up was Sara Barron, who will be taking her show Anything For You to the Monkey Barrel venue on Blair Street, Edinburgh, from 30th July to 25th August (except Mondays). Ms Barron pointed out from the start that she has the main content of the show sorted, plus a few excellent add-ons to be dovetailed in, but as yet the full structure of the show is to be settled on – and also a decent ending. However, given the utter brilliance of the material she delivered in the Preview, I don’t think she’s got much to worry about.

The main premise of the show is that she thinks she’s better than her mother – that sounds a bit big-headed, but then again, her mother also thinks that she was better than her own mother, so it sounds like reasonable evolutionary progress. Sara Barron gives us a hilarious insight into what her mother is really like – and it’s a delightful mix of outrageous caricature and total credibility. En route, you end up feeling sorry for both Ms Barron’s father and husband, as they both come in for more than their fair share of gentle torture from their womenfolk!

Sara Barron has a superb stage presence with brilliantly attacking delivery, and a very funny way of conveying the social differences between Britain and America without ever becoming unsubtle about it. I loved her account of that domestic moment when your husband lets out a pitiful “ouch” from another room; and there’s a lovely sequence concerning how and when she agrees to have sex. Even in its current loose format it’s an incredibly funny hour, and when Ms Barron has the show fully shaped it’s going to be a terrific Edinburgh winner this year.

After the interval, we had an hour in the presence of Scott Bennett, who is bringing his show Blood Sugar Baby to Edinburgh at Just the Tonic at the Mash House on Guthrie Street, Edinburgh, every day from 13th to 25th August. It’s listed on the Edinburgh Fringe site as a Work in Progress, but apart from Mr B using a paper script at this stage, it struck me as being a pretty nigh-on finished product – and a riot of laughter from start to finish.

It doesn’t sound like an obvious starting point for a comedy show – the account of his daughter Olivia’s congenital medical condition, which meant she had very low blood sugar from the tiniest age – and at first you wonder if it’s going to be one of those uncomfortable comedy performances where a comedian uses the audience as therapy by getting it all out of their system. Definitely not so in this case. For one thing, we can start with a happy ending as Olivia is alive and well and being a dreadful troublesome teenager that fulfils her current job description; but also the several intervening years have clearly put distance between Mr B and the horror of the baby’s earliest months which provides us all with safety and reassurance.

The show takes us, steadily and factually, through the complete procedure of identifying that something was wrong with their baby, finding out what it was, how it could be put right, and the treatment she received. Scott Bennett delivers his material in a very structured, logical, almost episodical sequence; and the benefit of this is that every episode receives a comedy side commentary which explodes the seriousness of the situation with the humour of everyday life and brilliant observations. He peppers his routine with hilarious self-deprecations and cunning callbacks. Towards the end of his hour I actually found that I had exhausted myself with too much laughter – that’s got to be a good sign.

Two Edinburgh productions that will have a great time at the Fringe. And it’s not long now until the Comedy Crate Weekender with 26 acts available over two days! Can’t wait!

Review – A Chorus Line, Curve Theatre, Leicester, 4th July 2024

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A quick flick back through my history of reviews will reveal, gentle reader, that I am an avid fan of A Chorus Line; ever since I first saw it in 1976 I’ve found nothing to beat it, and this General Election matinee was the eighteenth time I’ve seen a production of the show. You can read what I thought about this Curve production when we caught it in December 2021 here, or early in its revival run at the London Palladium in 2013 here. There’s no point me rewriting history, after all. Just take it from me that its heart of kindness and its overwhelming capacity for positivity drive it on, no matter how modern directors and choreographers might wish to tamper with it.

When it was playing at the Drury Lane in the 1970s it took about 2 hours and 10 minutes to perform (without an interval). It now takes about 1 hour and 50 minutes. Same show, same songs, same script. You can interpret this difference in two ways; Mrs Chrisparkle, for example, feels that today it’s much pacier and snappier, and she prefers it that way. Or you can agree with me that many scenes are rushed, to the detriment of the emotions lurking within the text and the largely true stories of the individual dancers. The plot twist, for example, when one of the dancers towards the end has a fall and can play no further part in the audition has in the past gripped audiences with its injustice and a sense of tragedy. Here it’s quickly dealt with, they are removed from the scene, and life goes on.

We both have a big gripe with this production – the use of the hand-held camera by choreographer’s assistant Larry. It adds nothing and detracts a lot. Frequently not in focus and out of synch with the live action; and given the fact that they have re-set the show, as it originally was, in 1975, they didn’t have hand-held cameras like that in those days. I was surprised – and delighted – that Val’s original challenging lyrics for her verse in And…. have been reinstated; Judy Turner once more pretends that her real name is Lana Turner (not Tina Turner, as in some more recent productions); and that Maggie and Connie both turn to Mike and confirm that he is indeed a sex maniac with superb comic timing – an opportunity frequently missed over recent years.

I miss the original Michael Bennett choreography badly; Ellen Kane’s 21st century version is lively and expressive but it lacks an individuality of its own, whereas Bennett’s was simply unmistakable, in its show-offish, exhilarating brash self-confidence. That’s not to say that the reinvented finale scene doesn’t work – it works brilliantly and is a pure joy to witness. I also miss the original costume design; again, as they’re sticking with the 1975 setting, some of those more eye-catching costumes today are distinctly from the modern era.

I think there’s also a tendency to overplay some of the characters and make them a little more goofy and kooky than in previous productions; after all, the characters are powerfully drawn, realistic people – because they were based on real people that Bennett interviewed whilst preparing the show – and overdoing some of the comedy tends to make it a little more pantomimish, a little more caricature. And I also feel that the tendency to have more scenes played away from standing On The Line dumbs the show down a little, making it cosier. That Chorus Line of the title is a strip of light on the floor, and every character sticks to their own position along it. There’s no hiding place on the line, it’s brutal, and the private moments that the characters confide from the line are more telling and hard-hitting. Move away from the line, further upstage, and it feels a safer, less scrutinised environment. That’s the wrong place for this show to be.

You might think from all that that I didn’t enjoy it. Far from it, I loved it, as I always do. Stand out performances for me were from Carly Mercedes Dyer as a very no-nonsense Cassie, Manuel Pacific as a shy but strangely confident Paul who becomes more and more willing to talk as his scene progresses, Chloe Saunders as a very bright and in-your-face Val, and Redmand Rance as a nicely underplayed Mike.

It goes without saying that all the dancing and singing are of the highest quality, and Matthew Spalding’s band are second to none, with some inventive and musically challenging rearrangements. If you’ve never seen A Chorus Line before, you’re in for a treat – after its run in Leicester it goes to Salford, followed by three weeks at Sadlers Wells, then Norwich, Canterbury, Birmingham, Cardiff, Edinburgh and finally High Wycombe in the first week of October. The show is still in very safe hands, I’m relieved to say!

Five Alive, Let Theatre Thrive!

Review – The Constitutent, The Old Vic, London, 29th June 2024

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Joe Penhall’s new play couldn’t have arrived at a more appropriate moment. With a general election at our fingertips and much warranted concern for the safety of our elected members of parliament, this three-hander lays bare the dangers that our MPs face from the public – and indeed, from their constituents. But this clever, witty and succinct play does a lot more than that.

We first meet Alec installing security devices to Monica’s constituency office. A camera, a panic button, alarms – both personal and fixed; these are the tools of his everyday trade, but they could mean the difference between life or death for Monica. Alec had served in Afghanistan where he was a security specialist; what he doesn’t know about danger isn’t worth knowing. He also went to primary school with Monica, and their mothers were friends back in the day.

Monica is a diligent MP who clearly tries to help wherever she can. But there are always limits; one mustn’t get personally involved in a case and when Alec reveals that his messy divorce has reached the stage of a family court because Alec’s anger makes him prone to threaten violence against his ex-wife’s new partner (and wannabe father to his kids), Monica sees the red flag and tries to back off. Alec places a lot of faith in Monica to help him, but she can’t deliver. It doesn’t help that he’s been blogging the whole nightmare situation and has legions of keyboard warriors on his side. And one night, Monica’s office is broken into, the furniture vandalised, and Monica is injured – apparently from falling down the stairs. But who was the vandal intruder? Was that really how Monica got injured? Why didn’t the security measures prevent it? And will her Police security liaison officer do his best to protect her, or take revenge against the offender?

Both Monica and Alec are victims here. She faces physical threat simply by trying to do her job as an MP, and he struggles within an adversarial legal system that ignores his PTSD and prevents him from seeing his children. Joe Penhall beautifully captures both their plights in his powerful, suspenseful and surprisingly funny play that keeps you engaged through all the plot twists and guessing right to the end.

Matthew Warchus has effectively created a traverse stage at the Old Vic with a bank of seats behind the stage mirroring those that are fixed in front of it; whether this has any particular theatrical benefit other than reducing the acting space and increasing the number of potential ticket sales, I’m not sure. It does mean, however, that we can dispense with scenery (great), relying on just a couple of desks and an exercise bike to convey the various locations of the plot. There’s a fascinating choice of musical accompaniments to distract us during the scene changes, including the highly appropriate last two verses of Billy Bragg’s Between the Wars before the final scene.

There’s a powerhouse of acting at the centre of the production too, with Anna Maxwell Martin totally convincing as MP Monica, juggling her family and parliamentary duties, full of practical ideas for improving lives, and largely discounting any personal risk to her own safety because – well, it just doesn’t happen, does it? She is matched by James Corden as Alec, whose comic timing is immaculate with some of the wonderful throwaway lines that Mr Penhall has given him, but who also shocks you with how potentially violent and angry his character can be. Mr Corden’s performance, particularly in the final scene, is incredibly powerful on an emotional level; and Mrs Chrisparkle and I were both surprised to discover a little bit of unexpected moisture in our eyes in those final minutes. The third member of the cast is Zachary Hart as Police Officer Mellor; ostensibly a practical support to Monica but with a gradually revealed agenda of his own that makes you realise he’s not everything he’s cracked up to be.

The play involves some stage combat which, at the performance we saw, was unconvincing and a disappointment. There were also a couple of instances of fluffed and forgotten lines, which I wasn’t expecting from this cast of this calibre, but everyone can have an off day! Nevertheless, it’s an excellent production of a very pertinent piece of writing which you continue to talk about long after curtain down. At just one hour 25 minutes without an interval, it’s all killer and no filler, as the poet once said. It continues at the Old Vic until 10th August.

4-starsFour They’re Jolly Good Fellows!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

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Review – Kyoto, Royal Shakespeare Company at the Swan Theatre, Stratford-upon-Avon, 25th June 2024

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It couldn’t have been more appropriate on a blisteringly hot Stratford-upon-Avon summer’s evening than to turn our attention to climate change. We still frequently hear talk of the famous Kyoto meeting – COP 3 to give it its official title – where 150 countries, each with the power of veto, somehow were able to reach agreement on a subject that has always been extremely contentious, particularly in certain quarters. It was the first time that such international consensus had been agreed on climate change; and although there’s no doubt that the progress hoped for over the subsequent years has been faltering (at best), without it we would surely all be in hotter soup than we currently are.

Stephen KunkenIf there’s one thing that Joe Murphy and Joe Robertson’s new play Kyoto – co-produced by the Royal Shakespeare Company and Good Chance – achieves brilliantly, it’s exposing the extraordinary attention to detail that’s necessary to create a constructive and useful document to which all parties can agree. As I know from personal experience, it can be a most bizarre experience, arguing the toss over a semi-colon here and a conjunction there; one can only imagine the level of pernicketiness needed during a summit like COP 3, to change words, brackets, commas and so on. But the chaos somehow leads to order, and the play demonstrates that superbly.

Stephen KunkenKyoto‘s structure takes us through the early stages of meetings between climate scientists, lawyers and international governmental observers, from 1989 through to COP 3 in 1997. At its heart is Don Pearlman, the narrator, stepping in and out of the action to play his part and to keep us, the Swan Theatre audience, up to speed with how things are going. As an oil industry lobbyist, Don is undoubtedly more anti-hero than hero, as he works with the Saudi representative and others to put a spanner in the works wherever possible. He even creates his own NGO – The Climate Council – partly out of mischief, but mainly to ensure that he can be as close to the decision makers as possible. By the time we reach Act Two, the scene changes to Kyoto, with all the conference’s planning, subterfuge, arguments and eventual, unexpected, success, largely due to the determined and distinctly quirky style of its Chaiman, Raul Estrada-Oyuela.

DelegatesA very important and relevant subject – and there are gripping stories to be told about how it happened and indeed the effect it had on its participants. However, Messrs Murphy and Robertson don’t seem to know which story they are giving us here. Is it the story of how the Kyoto agreement came about, or is it the story of Don Pearlman and the tolls it took on his family and health? Clearly, it’s both, and I found this play over-ambitious, muddled and confusing. So many facts and opinions are bombarded at us that it’s very hard to take it all in and there were a few times where I was frankly lost. And although it’s a lively and highly creative production to watch, with Akhila Krishnan’s video design a work of art on its own merit, many aspects of the production detracted from our understanding of what’s going on.

The CastMiriam Buether’s set presents us with a huge round table, with delegate chairs all around; some of which are taken by members of the audience, who I presume, would feel at the very heart of the debates that take place. The opening scene reveals Don Pearlman being approached by a number of darkly dressed, shady characters, luring him into doing their dirty work for them. Round table? Shady characters? It very much feels like we’ve been plunged into an episode of The Traitors.

CherriesMy main bone of contention with Kyoto is that there is a disconnect between what the play tells us and what the production shows us. The relationship between the play and its audience is – deliberately I’m sure – blurred from the start. Pearlman addresses us in the here and now and takes us back to the 90s. The audience members sitting around the table merge into the action, for example standing up when addressed by their Japanese host. All audience members are wearing COP 3 lanyards, a cute idea that might make us feel more involved, that, however, neither achieves anything or goes anywhere. In a private conversation with the Chair, Ferdy Roberts’ John Prescott offers cherries to an audience member, thereby breaking the illusion that a) it’s a private chat and b) it’s a deadly serious subject.

Jorge BoschThis blurring continues: there’s a scene that ends with the chandelier in the Pearlmans’ hotel suite shattering, due to some suspected vandalism/threat. It’s not a particularly impressive visual effect to be honest as there’s no chandelier and just a few crunchy bits of shard tumble down on to the stage with all the lethal sharpness of sycamore leaves. Then Jorge Bosch playing Raul comes on stage and has to step through the shards underfoot to continue with his next scene, even though it doesn’t take place in the hotel but in the conference room. Our sense of location is blurred; it’s messy and it’s muddled.

Ingrid OliverThere’s a very poignant moment between John Prescott, who played a significant role as the UK and European Union’s delegate and worked extremely hard to bring sides together, and German Chancellor-to-be Angela Merkel where she marks the commitment both countries have put in to reach this achievement; a solid moment where EU membership truly helped unite old enemies, that I’m sure is meant to suggest a knowing sigh over Brexit.

Jenna AugenThere’s an article in the programme written by Prescott where he describes those final moments of discussion: “We just kept going, 48 hours without sleep, finding compromise and wearing down opposition. But we got there in the end. You could call it “diplomacy by exhaustion”.” A great phrase. But the scene where Raul is ending the debate and knocking down his gavel time after time to signify assent to each remaining article doesn’t reflect diplomacy by exhaustion – it’s more like diplomacy by pantomime. There’s neither a sense of exhaustion nor gravitas, just a ludicrous comedy scene played for laughs; totally the wrong tone for the moment.

Nancy CraneThe final scene is given over to a long eulogy by Shirley Pearlman about Don, who has – sorry, spoilers and all that – died. It was because of all those cigarettes he smoked. Really? We’ve been watching him for the last two and a half hours and he only got his lighter out once, and that was just to set fire to a magazine. The poor man was apparently riddled with cancer. Again, really? He complained of backache once. If the play is meant to give us an insight into Don’s personal situation, it does a pretty poor job. The scene goes on for way, way too long and minimises the impact of presenting the Kyoto agreement. My mind went to the final scene of Death of a Salesman and how succinctly and eloquently Willy Loman’s neighbour Charley notes his passing: “Nobody dast blame this man”. If only Kyoto could have had an ending like that.

Dale RapleyAs you’d expect, the performances go a long way to redeeming the shortcomings of the play. Stephen Kunken gives a superb performance as Pearlman, in a demanding role that requires him to be in the thick of the story and the nonstop conduit with the audience. The ever reliable Dale Rapley is excellent in all his roles including a bullying suave Al Gore and a meddlesome photographer. Nancy Crane is outstanding as the US delegate, trying to play the upper hand because of the importance of her nation but finding herself frequently outwitted. In fact, all the actors playing the national delegates give brilliant performances, including Andrea Gatchalian’s desperate Kiribati, Jude AkuwudikeJude Akuwudike’s dogmatic Tanzania and Togo Igawa’s poetic Japan, whose “welcome to Kyoto” speech that opened the second act was one of the play’s most charming moments.

A highly significant achievement in our recent history, the story of the Kyoto agreement should be kept alive for future generations. And whilst this play powerfully conveys the chaos and market-trading of the conference experience, I wish it had told the story in a clearer, less messy way.

Production photos by Manuel Harlan

3-starsThree-sy Does It!

Review – Gareth Mutch and Tom Stade, Comedy Crate Edinburgh Previews at the Museum, Northampton Museum and Art Gallery, 23rd June 2024

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With the inevitability of night following day and misadventure following Sunak, Edinburgh Previews come around again, as plucky comedians start girding their loins for the Greatest Show on Earth (well, the Greatest Show north of the border). A quick check of the Edinburgh Fringe website reveals over 1,350 comedy shows taking place there this summer, so it’s only right and proper that the Comedy Crate should bring some of them to our attention. And the first of these shows we were able to catch this year took place in the dignified surroundings of the Northampton Museum and Art Gallery.

Gareth Mutch and Tom Stade shared a preview night last year, so they clearly go together like Cheese and Onion. First up was Gareth Mutch, with a preview of his Edinburgh show for this year, Modern Man. Not sure what you think of when you think of “modern man”, but I think of a man with a progressive outlook, a firm feminist and not afraid to show his feelings. Gareth has followed the advice of some expert who described it as someone who “struggles with modern life”. Not sure I quite believe that.

No matter. Gareth has a hugely engaging stage persona; he’s a big chap with a bit of a gruff exterior but within a few seconds of seeing his act you realise he’s a true softy inside. He has some excellent material where he beautifully demonstrates his Beta Male qualities, with his inability to fix a boiler – he can’t even come to terms with the fact he has an airing cupboard. He also has a brilliant routine where he challenges audience members to decide what’s best: falling in love or being married? If you’re concerned about offending your other half with your reply, he has a very funny test to help you decide the right answer.

A preview show is precisely that; as Gareth said in his introduction, there may hopefully be parts of the show where the comedy soars, and there will doubtless be parts where it falls flat on it’s a*se. He started a sequence which involved a very dubious reference to shall we say a difficult subject – and it was met with stony – nay, shocked – silence from the crowd. Wisely, he decided instantly to drop it. Because Gareth comes across as such a likeable guy, suddenly to confront us with a very challenging and tough-to-find-humour-in subject was like a slap in the face. But a Preview Show is a learning curve – that’s what it’s all about. There’s definitely plenty to look forward to in Modern Man, and Gareth’s stage confidence and delivery skills are a sheer delight to witness. He’s on at The Stand Comedy Club 2 at 18:50 every night from July 31 – Aug 25 except August 12th, and you can book tickets here.

After the interval we were treated to the whirlwind of comedy dynamite (yes, I know that’s a mixed metaphor) that is Tom Stade, with a Preview of his new Edinburgh show, Risky Business. An hour spent in the company of Tom Stade is a rollercoaster of a white knuckle ride, and you genuinely can’t guess in which direction he’ll go next. We started off in fairly familiar Stade territory with an assessment of the average ages of audience members, and how language can (does) mean different things to different age groups. He has some great material about how the prevalence of computers in the lives of the twenty-somethings and younger is so ingrown that it can lead to severe misunderstandings, and, if you’re as mischievous as Mr Stade, can become delightful weapons in the war of comedy.

I loved his observations about modern travel, and how travel agents are redundant if you know someone young enough to work their way around a computer; and how his perfect holiday must include a waterpark. Another observation that rang true is how there’s only one thing that Mr and Mrs Stade want to go when they go to bed – scroll. And he has a brilliant slant on that old favourite, Mr Potato Head. Trying to review or even encapsulate much of what passes in a Tom Stade set is an impossible task because all his nuggets – big or small – just wash over you and you simply can’t keep track of what he says. You only hope that he can! You always feel that there’s an element of danger in what might happen on stage when he’s on; it gives an intangible edge to the whole proceedings. Wonderfully funny as always; even though this show was still at the let’s chuck ideas in the air and see where they land stage, you just know his new Edinburgh show will be a winner. You can catch Tom at The Stand Comedy Club 1 at 20:15 every night from July 31 – Aug 25 except August 12th, and you can book tickets here.

Many more Edinburgh Previews to come: our next date is to see Scott Bennett and Sara Barron at the Lamplighter on July 8th.

Review – The Merry Wives of Windsor, RSC at the Royal Shakespeare Theatre, Stratford-upon-Avon, 19th June 2024

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Forsooth, at these times when the UK body politic is working out exactly what the next five years have in store, it’s verily a buckbasket amount of fun to enjoy a laughter tonic in the form of Blanche McIntyre’s brilliant new production of William Shakespeare’s occasionally vicious comedy The Merry Wives of Windsor. It goes without saying that this is a play at which you can throw the kitchen sink, but Ms McIntyre has backed in the entire stock of the local Wickes in a pantechnicon at the stage door – and it works superbly.

FalstaffIt’s a surprisingly complicated plot, if you follow it in depth; that fat fool Sir John Falstaff is down on his uppers and lodging at the Garter Inn, so plans a two-way attack on the hearts and bank balances of local well-to-do Mistresses Ford and Page. When they discover that he’s not remotely serious in his intentions, they decide to double-cross him. Twice. On both occasions he has to be secreted from the Ford house without Master Ford knowing; much hilarity ensueth. However, Ford himself has become genuinely jealous and suspicious of his wife and tricks Falstaff into keeping him updated with the fat knight’s “progress” with her. Once that’s come out into the open, and Ford repents his jealousy, they all decide to trick Falstaff one more time by spooking him in the deep dark forest. Gosh, those wives truly are merry.

Windsor ParkRobert Innes Hopkins has pulled a masterstroke with the set. An immaculate lawn fronts the perfect suburban front door of 37 Acacia Avenue Windsor (it may as well be). As the scenes develop, the house frontage spins around to reveal various locations inluding the front door of the Garter Inn (showing the Germany v England game courtesy of Pie Sports, nice touch), and Dr Caius’ surgery – he appears to be a dentist for the purposes of this play, and why not? The production makes excellent use of the hidden trap on the stage to present Falstaff’s bed, a pub garden table, and so on; and for the final scene, the suburban landscape is whisked away and we find ourselves presented with the ominous trees and threatening foliage of Windsor Park.

Shallow and PageThe text has been decently revised to include a few modern references whilst still retaining the full authenticity of the original; of those, I particularly enjoyed Caius’ unexpected nod to McDonalds. The whole approach of the production is to concentrate on the humour – that’s really the only reason why you would do this play in the first place. The darker sides to the story take something of a back seat; the viciousness of the revenge on Falstaff isn’t overly stressed – this is a resourceful and mentally strong Falstaff who can definitely give as good as he gets. The veiled cruelty of trying to prevent the marriage between Mistress Anne and Fenton – who love each other – is only briefly hinted at, and quickly redressed at the end. Only Ford’s jealousy is developed more strongly; a well-judged, subtle performance by Richard Goulding reveals his inner torment but it never gets in the way of a good belly-laugh.

Mistresses Page and FordSamantha Spiro and Siubhan Harrison lead the cast as the eponymous wives, with hilariously conspiratorial and comically energetic performances as they entrap husbands, suitors, offspring, and whoever comes into their orbit. Wil Johnson is excellent as the dignified Master Page, John Dougall is nicely busy-bodying as Shallow, Emily Houghton gives us a gutsy Host of the Garter, and Tara Tijani and John Leader are well matched as Anne and Fenton, charming in their decently developing relationship and quietly victorious at the end when their plans have come to fruition.

Mistress Page and Sir HughIan Hughes and Jason Thorpe make the most of Shakespeare’s near-xenophobic language to poke wonderful fun at their characters, Sir Hugh and Dr Caius’ Welsh and French backgrounds; Mr Thorpe bringing a beautiful petulance to the acerbic doctor’s barbed lines, and Mr Hughes as a delightful windbag of pomposity and hypocrisy, seizing the surprise chance to take a sniff at Mistress Ford’s discarded undies.

Slender and AnneAll the cast give superb, committed performances. There are some scene-stealing comedy moments worth mentioning; Patrick Walshe McBride as the tongue-tied Slender, Omar Bynon and Yasemin Özdemir as the double act of Pistol and Nym, and, triumphant in the magnificent basket scenes, Riess Fennell and David Partridge as the two hapless laundrymen dealing with removing the hidden Falstaff.

Mistress Ford and FalstaffBut it’s John Hodgkinson who takes centre stage with a marvellous portrayal of Falstaff; so often you see Falstaff played as a glutton with his mouth dribbling with food and drink and his attire filthy and uncared for. This Falstaff is the opposite. Smart suit, a clean cut appearance; which makes his mud-caked reappearance after the Thames incident even funnier. His only nod towards gluttony is when he sinks his quart of sack in two mouthfuls – each of which get a cheer and a round of applause from the riveted audience. He’s lascivious, but comparatively subtly; for example, not moving out of the doorframe when Mistress Page has to squeeze past him, much to embarrassed but sexy giggles from both of them. Mr FordHodgkinson gives us a totally believable Falstaff; not a caricature of excesses but a real man whose actions we can’t approve of but completely understand. No spoilers, but whilst the ending of the play shows him completely humiliated and outdone, you have absolutely no doubt that the next morning he’ll just carry on as normal. A true survivor in fact!

One tiny note: the short scene involving the two German football supporters doesn’t entirely make sense; but then again, Shakespeare’s original equivalent doesn’t make much sense either. Otherwise this is a tremendously uplifting production that frequently has you hooting with pleasure, and a wonderful way to spend a summer night in Stratford. Highly recommended!

Production photos by Manuel Harlan

Five Alive, Let Theatre Thrive!