Tag Archives: Crucible

Review – A Christmas Carol, Crucible Theatre, Sheffield, 3rd January 2026

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Ever the businessman, I reckon Charles Dickens today would be pretty satisfied with how his Christmas Carol franchise was performing, 183 years since it was first published. From Alastair Sim to the Muppets, from the musical Scrooge to the regular Old Vic production, old Ebenezer and those ghosts are never going to go away. One of the most influential books ever written, its legacy truly lives on. And now, Aisha Khan has adapted it with a unique Sheffield twist for the Crucible stage.

In this production, Jack – a kind of Artful Dodger, briskly played by Mel Lowe – tells three young scallywags about Scrooge’s extraordinary tale, creating a distancing framework and a setting for the story. Once the story starts to unfold, it’s told in a very traditional and straightforward manner, with the revelations of Scrooge’s humble beginnings and how he threw away his chance of happiness with Belle, how he mistreated his kindly boss Mr Fezziwig, and his encounters with those oh so important ghosts.

As an aficionado, rather than a native, of Sheffield, I wasn’t aware of the area’s carol tradition. Dickens saw his story of the redemption of Scrooge as the embodiment of a carol, hence his choice of title. What could be more relevant, then, to incorporate the local tradition of carols into this show? Every year come November, local pubs ring out with the informal singing of songs like Six Jolly Miners, Hail Smiling Morn or Sweet Chiming Bells, known by all so that everyone, unrehearsed, can join in – but totally unknown outside the local area. Aisha Khan’s adaptation includes many of these rousing numbers, helping to take Dickens’ original tale away from its traditional London setting and bring it to Sheffield. This local influence is also seen in the inspired decision to make the Ghost of Christmas Past a miner, leading Scrooge through his history with the aid of his torch-equipped helmet.

Rose Revitt and Kevin Jenkins’ alluring set combines a grim, rickety, upstairs office garret with a more comfortable room downstairs, contrasting Scrooge’s solitary workplace for one with a sociable space for the Cratchits to enjoy their meagre Christmas lunch or for Scrooge’s nephew Fred to host his Christmas party. Bob Cratchit’s desk is placed centre stage, virtually cut adrift from the rest of society, with no creature comforts; just a target for Scrooge to hurl his bundles of documents from a height above so that they come crashing down next to Cratchit to work on – a very nice touch to display the inhumanity of Scrooge’s treatment of his employee.

The costume design is perfect for its era, and the production requires over 100 costumes in all, so the Crucible’s Wardrobe department had its work cut out to recreate the times so credibly. Richard Howell’s lighting design is evocative and inventive, including an ominous creation of Scrooge’s grave, and John Bulleid’s illusion designs work very effectively, adding a touch of eerie magic to the proceedings. Trundling large and heavy elements of the set into place, however, was unfortunately noisy and distracting – just a minor quibble.

Director Elin Schofield created a superb ensemble feel to the entire production, with many cast members adopting several roles, as well as joining in with the songs and choreography. Everyone gave a great performance; stand-outs are Adam Price combining the roles of Fezziwig and the Ghost of Christmas Present, Nitai Levi as the Ghost of Christmas Past,  and Ryan O’Donnell and Kimberly Blake as Mr and Mrs Cratchit, the latter’s refusal to raise a toast to their employer sending a thrill of righteous indignation in agreement with her down all our backs. The a cappella singing is electric – and put me in mind of the production of One Big Blow at the Liverpool Everyman more than forty years ago, which gave rise to the successful group The Flying Pickets.

Ian Midlane is excellent as Scrooge; this is no pantomime villain but a believably complicated and self-deluding soul who fell back on his complacency and saw no need to treat the world kindly, when he thought money was the answer to everything. His change into a charitable chap is great fun to watch and gives the audience a feelgood pickup.

A well-constructed, innovative approach to a familiar story; sadly, now closed, but it is an excellent addition to the Crucible’s ever-growing list of successful Christmas shows.

4-stars

Four They’re Jolly Good Fellows!

Review – Little Shop of Horrors, Crucible Theatre, Sheffield, 19th December 2024

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When I saw that the Sheffield Crucible were staging Little Shop of Horrors as their Christmas musical this year my heart leapt. One of my favourite memories from ever watching a show was the first time I saw LSOH in 1984 at the then named Comedy Theatre in London; I still recall the genuinely terrifying moment at the end when unseen tendrils descended from the roof and gently touched my face and hair without my knowing where they had come from – they gave me the fright of my life!

Forty years on, Amy Hodge brings a new production to the Crucible with its wide open spaces and new challenges as to how to present the show; and the whole team has done a fine job in updating it, with some bold staging decisions which certainly pleased a large percentage of the audience at Thursday’s matinee, but didn’t always sit quite right with me.

But let’s not run before we can walk. I’m sure you know the concept behind Little Shop of Horrors, but just in case… Mushnik’s flower shop on Skid Row is down on its uppers; a dead beat location, an unmotivated staff and Mr Mushnik is just about ready to shut up shop for good, when his assistant Seymour shows him a new plant he’s been cultivating. Its creation coincided with an unexpected total eclipse, which seems to have given it a life of its own. Unfortunately for Seymour, it thrives on blood, and, because it’s his protégé, he feels obliged to feed it a few of his own red drops every day. He calls the plant Audrey II, in honour of his much admired colleague Audrey who doesn’t seem to notice him – she only has time for her sadistic boyfriend who assaults her. However, Audrey II grows, and grows – and becomes celebrated in the neighbourhood, transforming the fortunes of the shop and Mushnik’s income. What could possibly go wrong? You’ll have to come and see the show if you don’t know!

Georgia Lowe has created a very inventive set that combines the destitution of Skid Row with modern digital interfaces as well as the traditional florist shop. I love how the refuse bins at the side of the stage become their own acting spaces – extremely clever! Of course, the big challenge is how to create Audrey II. In the past it has been brought to life purely by means of puppetry and an offstage actor’s voice. But in this production, Audrey II is now performed by an actor, who gradually increases in power and vocality by means of additional mouths and stems, separately animated by other actors.

Despite Sam Buttery’s excellent vocal performance, I simply couldn’t believe in this presentation. Separating the different elements of Audrey II’s body (for want of a better word) so clearly stops us from believing in its being one plant and not several; and seeing Sam Buttery’s face at a relatively early stage in the performance also prevents our own imaginations from working to imagine the increasingly horrific appearance of the plant. Once seen, Audrey II’s identity is fixed in our brains, so there’s no route for her to get scarier, and, despite all the other actors lugging around enormous green shoots and tendrils, you never really get the impression of Audrey II’s overwhelming growth.

The show is clearly set on Skid Row; a distinctly American term for a down-at-heel environment, and the Americanisms of the original show are all still there in full force – prices are given in dollars, and when we see money being handled, it’s undoubtedly American greenbacks. However, Seymour has a pure strong Brummie accent, Orin speaks the Full King’s English, and the chorus of street girls are as London as you can get; in fact, there’s not an American accent anywhere to be heard. Don’t get me wrong; I found it rather refreshing to witness a very British Little Shop of Horrors, but it reveals a huge disconnect between the performance and the material, which just doesn’t feel right.

Fortunately, the performances are extremely good, with some outstanding vocals and characterisations. Wilf Scolding does a terrific job of portraying just how vile Orin is, and he mines all the humour out of the excellent Be a Dentist. Lizzy Rose Esin Kelly, Paige Fenlon and Charlotte Jaconelli give us great harmonies as the Ronette/Chiffon/Crystal girls, and there’s great support from Michael Matus’ Mushnik and indeed the whole talented ensemble.

In the lead roles, Sam Buttery’s powerful voice leaves us in no doubt as to the menace of Audrey II’s appetite, and Colin Ryan’s Seymour is nicely nerdy, like a green-fingered IT specialist. Georgina Onuorah is sensational as Audrey, with a stunning voice and a powerful, emotional delivery. It says a lot for their performances that, despite all the high energy, flashy dancing and big rocky numbers, the two stand-out moments were Ms Onuorah’s fantastic Somewhere That’s Green in the first Act and her shared Suddenly Seymour with Mr Ryan in the second. For me, these heartfelt, plaintive performances really blew the rest of the show out of the water.

One can only admire the creativity and inventiveness that went into bringing this show to the stage, and the audience went wild for it. Remember – always stick to regular plant food, much the safest way. Little Shop of Horrors is on at the Crucible until 18th January.

 

4-starsFour They’re Jolly Good Fellows!

Review – White Christmas, Crucible Theatre, Sheffield, 16th December 2023

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Our regular Christmas visit to the Sheffield Theatres has already come upon us, as Mrs Chrisparkle and I took Lord and Lady Prosecco up the M1 for the usual two-show feast of fun. The panto would have to wait until the evening but at 2pm we were part of a sold out audience to see Paul Foster’s production of Irving Berlin’s White Christmas.

Yes, this old war horse comes around every Christmas, and everyone knows it off by heart. Everyone, that is, except me, who had never seen it before and knew nothing about it apart from its rather well known title song.  Because it’s such a hardy perennial, I have always thought there’d be another opportunity to catch it next year; and therefore still haven’t. So don’t ask me how similar it is to the film because I haven’t a clue.

Although the plot is wafer-thin, the show itself radiates feelgood warmth, and I’m not surprised people keep coming back to it year after year. Bob and Phil are talented military entertainers during the war and enjoy a successful showbiz career afterwards. After auditioning the Haynes sisters to join their act, Phil falls head over heels with Judy Haynes but Bob and Betty Haynes don’t have that initial chemistry. The boys follow the girls to an engagement in a hotel in Vermont, which they are amazed to discover is owned by General Waverly who was their commanding officer during the war. The hotel is losing money fast, but can the talents of Phil, Bob, Judy and Betty turn its fortunes around? And will Bob and Betty find the same love that Phil and Judy seem to have?

Like Kiss Me Kate, much of the show is based on preparing and rehearsing another show; they didn’t quite use the phrase hey why don’t we do the show right here in the barn, but it was a close thing. A side effect of this structure is that you can insert songs into the show that don’t have anything to do with its natural flow. That’s one of my pet hates, because it tends towards creating a stop-start show, rather than flowing organically.

However, unlike Kiss Me Kate, which must be one of the world’s best ever musicals, although White Christmas has a few fantastic songs, there are also some numbers that are slightly underpowered. In addition,  Let Me Sing and I’m Happy and How Deep is the Ocean were both originally written for Al Jolson in the 1930s; Let Yourself Go is from the musical Follow the Fleet, Happy Holiday from Holiday Inn, and I’ve Got My Love to Keep Me Warm is from On the Avenue. Of the great songs in the show, only Sisters is originally from White Christmas, so there’s been a fair deal of pilfering and plundering from the Irving Berlin songbook of other shows to create this production.

When I saw that the choreography was by Alistair David, I knew we would be in for a dancing treat as his is the safest pair of jazz hands regularly contributing to the Crucible shows. Exhilarating, expressive and always using the maximum space that the stage allows, there are some terrific set piece dance sequences, probably none finer than the opening to the second act with I Love a Piano. Alex Parker’s richly proportioned orchestra whacks out the tunes with gusto and enthusiasm, and Janet Bird’s designs have a splendid period feel.

George Blagden and Stuart Neal are superb as the two army hoofers; Mr Neal in particular steals the show with his ebullient tap routine. Natasha Mould and Grace Mouat give fine performances as the two “devoted sisters” Judy and Betty, and there is solid support from the always fantastic Danny Collins as Sheldrake and Ewen Cummins as Waverly. At our performance,young Susan was played by ten-years-old Renee Elliott-Latif and she was fantastic. But it’s Sandra Marvin whose performance as Martha leaves you wanting more, with her wonderful comic timing and powerfully emotional voice.

I have to admit to being a little underwhelmed by the show itself, but it’s a top quality production and performed to the highest standard throughout. And it’s going to pack out the Crucible right up until its final performances on 13th January!

 

4-starsFour They’re Jolly Good Fellows!

Review – The Hypochondriac, Crucible Theatre, Sheffield, 3rd October 2023

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A new production of Moliere’s final play, translated and adapted by Roger McGough, with a rhyming script like the original? Sounds a complete hoot. And at times, it is! And at times, it isn’t. Of course, Tuesday night’s performance was a preview, so one must make all sorts of allowances. In fact the first person to enter the stage was Sheffield Theatres’ Associate Artistic Director, Anthony Lau, who reminded us that this was indeed a preview and that things were still taking shape; as well as the fact that Oliver Birch, the show’s composer, had stepped in to play Cléante at the last minute due to company sickness, script in hand, so that the show could go on. This made me very worried as to what I was about to receive. However, let me state here and now that Mr Birch is indeed one of the show’s highlights with a delightfully funny and confident performance, and were it not for the fact that he had to occasionally check the script you’d never know he was an understudy.

There’s quite a Moliere-shaped gap in my theatre experience, which was one of the reasons I was keen to see this production. Tartuffe, of course, reappears everywhere, most successfully recently with that brilliant RSC adaptation set in Birmingham. I had to read Le Bourgeois Gentilhomme as part of my French A Level; I don’t think I enjoyed it much. Moliere’s Wikipedia page lists 36 plays under the heading Major Works, so you can think of him as being pretty much level pegging with Shakespeare as far as output is concerned. Le Malade Imaginaire (1673) was his final play; largely because, one night whilst playing Argan, the eponymous hypochondriac, he had a coughing fit during the performance and died later that night of a haemorrhage. You couldn’t make it up.

Moliere’s original is a sprawling, unfocussed play.  Argan argues with his maid Toinette, his doctor Purgeon, his wife Béline, and his brother Beralde; he arranges for his daughter Angélique to marry a man she doesn’t like without knowing that she wants to pursue another suitor (Cléante). Eventually he becomes convinced that there is nothing wrong with him, and celebrates this fact by wanting to become a doctor himself. All this is broken up with little songs and dances (such was the way of Moliere’s comedies-ballet). There’s little pretence to making any serious points – it’s all done for the comedy. And Roger McGough’s adaptation is largely faithful to the original storyline and to the concept of rhyming, singing and primarily doing it for the laughs.

Colin Richmond has created a tremendous set, reflecting Argan’s salon, piled high with receipts and notes, with stacks of paperwork tumbling almost out of the sky. The costumes are classic 17th century French bourgeoisie; the harpsichord compositions feel like they could be lost works by Charpentier who wrote the original music for the play. However, McGough’s translations are distinctly 20th century, if not 21st; and whilst the enforced corny rhymes amuse at first, it doesn’t take long for them to pall. The trouble is, your ears get so used to expecting the rhymes that your brain starts to disengage from the words themselves and their meanings. And as soon as you recognise a rhyme, you’re waiting for the next one, and so on; becoming obsessed with the speech rhythm but not the content.

Consequently, it quickly becomes tiring, especially as there is no depth to any of it. The triteness of the lyrics was a major problem with the recent production of The Third Man at the Menier Chocolate Factory. In The Hypochondriac, that triteness is taken to a new level. McGough manages the musical element of Moliere’s original by creating his own little passages of originality, such as the speech all about the benefits of having an interval – cue time for the Interval; or indeed what would Moliere do here? or a verbal reference to the Scaffold’s very own Lily the Pink, at which everyone laughs in I see what you did there kind of recognition, but is as far away from the 17th century setting as you can get. A little bit knowing and clever-clever for my liking.

Edward Hogg is a wily, wiry, whiny Argan, a self-obsessed wretch who likes to manipulate but is easily manipulated himself. It’s not a domineering performance; even though the play revolves completely around Argan, it doesn’t feel like the production sets Mr Hogg up as its main source of energy. That comes more from the other members of the household: Jessica Ransom’s insincere Béline, Saroja-Lily Ratnavel’s flustered Angélique, Zweyla Mitchell dos Santos’ irrepressible Toinette, and perhaps best of all Chris Hannon’s boisterous Beralde. Garmon Rhys steals the show with his beautifully over-the-top performance as unsuitable suitor Thomas Diaforius, reciting his compliments from memory and flourishing his ostentatious bow like a stampeding rhino.

If you’re expecting anything subtle or poised, I think I’d recommend booking for a different show. It’s certainly fast and furious; but on Tuesday night it felt rather ragged and a little over-hectic; hopefully it will gain a little more slickness over time. I have to say the audience gave it a massive cheer at the end. Some good performances, some overplayed enthusiasm and some tiresome language creates something of a mixed prescription for me. I can only be grateful that doggerel doesn’t quite rhyme with b*gger all.

 

3-starsThree-sy Does It!

Review – Jack and the Beanstalk, Lyceum Theatre, Sheffield, 17th December 2022

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Call me an idiot, gentle reader – no, really, please do – but it never occurred to me that Evolution Pantomimes’ Jack and the Beanstalk at the Lyceum Theatre Sheffield, written by Paul Hendy, would be identical (almost) to Jack and the Beanstalk at the Royal and Derngate, Northampton, written by Paul Hendy. An intelligent person would have joined the dots, but, somehow, I didn’t. As a result I didn’t enjoy this year’s Sheffield panto – which is an annual event for us – as much as I normally do. But only because I’d seen most of it before. The same set, the same costumes, the same songs, the same jokes. Even the same bits that you thought were where the cast had made a bit of a mistake – not a bit of it, those little errors are scripted and practised to within an inch of their lives; discovering which, was a fascinating lesson in itself. So really I should just point you towards my review of the Northampton panto – click the link above – and that ought to be sufficient.

It’s not, of course. A different cast, and a different emphasis, make for a (slightly) different show. The Sheffield panto is blessed with the presence of Damian Williams as the Dame – the man who put the dame in Damian, in fact (or should that be the other way round) – returning for his 15th year as the star of the show, and he is just insanely funny. Because he is a big chap, his outlandish costumes and huge persona fill the stage more than ought to be decently possible. He owned the Elton John sequence brilliantly, and was also particularly fab in the weather-making machine, revoltingly rubbing his tummy up against the glass door. And he is the main reason we all keep coming back. Damian is Christmas!

Our Fairy Sugarsnap is Wendi Peters, in her third appearance at the Sheffield panto in six years, so she’s becoming almost as much of a recidivist as Mr Williams. She’s bright, confident and a complete natural in the world of pantomime, and does a great job. One of the few differences between this and the Northampton panto is the presence of Maxwell Thorpe as an additional character, Charlie Trot. Sheffield’s answer to Alfie Boe, he rose to stardom from busking in the streets to his appearance earlier this year on Britain’s Got Talent. Alas, I hadn’t heard of him before, and he does indeed have a terrific voice which is put to good use, especially in the singalong sequence Delilah, a pleasing paean to the Pantomime Cow. However, with the greatest respect, Mr Thorpe’s acting skills need developing so that he can hold his own amongst a strong cast, and not look out of place. Still, he is a local lad and the crowd loved him. The other main difference with this panto, by the way, is having two giants. Keeping it in the family – quite a nice trick.

One of the main problems of seeing the same production twice but with two completely different casts, is that it is virtually impossible not to compare individual performers, invidious though that may be. That said… I found Marc Pickering’s performance as the baddie, Luke Backinanger, forced and trying too hard in comparison with the effortless evil of Richard David-Caine in Northampton; although he is excellent in the boyband sequence at the end of the show, which generally worked much better in Sheffield. And, continuing the comparison, Waffle the Wonder Dog beats Izzy the Dog paws down.

Apart from that, there is still a great deal to enjoy in a tremendous show. All the classic trademark elements are there, James Harrison’s band is superb, the song selection is great, the ecological and redemption messages of the text work extremely well, and the Drone of Love continues to bring new technology to Dame Trot’s own version of Bumble. Oh, and how could I forget the giant pea? Absolutely brilliant.

An excellent panto, as always – I just wish I hadn’t already seen it elsewhere! That’s definitely a lesson for me to learn next year.

4-starsFour They’re Jolly Good Fellows!

Review – Standing at the Sky’s Edge, Crucible Theatre, Sheffield, 17th December 2022

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“So what’s this show about” asked Lord and Lady Prosecco en route to their annual Christmas shindig in Sheffield. “Not sure,” came my honest reply. “I think it might be Sheffield’s answer to Blood Brothers.” And, to be fair, I wasn’t that far off the mark. Both shows offer an insight into living in poor council housing, relocating to somewhere better, and surviving (or not) the Thatcher era, plus a not insubstantial dollop of melodrama, and some fabulous songs. But they’re rather surface similarities, and, deep down, it’s not really a helpful comparison.

Chris Bush loves to portray things in threes, doesn’t she? Only a few months ago we saw her brilliant Rock Paper Scissors where all three theatres within the Sheffield complex were used to tell the same story in the same real time but from three different locations/aspects. Her challenge in Standing at the Sky’s Edge is to tell three different stories over three different eras, but all of which take place in the same flat. Characters from the 60s to the 80s blend with others from the 90s and noughties and more characters from the past ten years. There’s a gorgeously staged scene where all three sets of characters eat a meal at the dining table, striding the decades, in blissful ignorance of each other. I bet Alan Ayckbourn is kicking himself for not having thought of that one.

There’s the young couple, Rose and Harry, starting out, the first residents of the flat, full of hope, ambition and positivity. He prides himself on being “the youngest foreman this city has ever seen” and is thrilled to be able to provide for both his wife and the child they soon hope to have. The 90s bring a family of refugees from Liberia, Grace, George and Joy, fleeing the terror of the Civil War. Unfamiliar with life in Sheffield, they have to learn the local accent, food and customs, not knowing whom to trust. And as the Estate starts to gentrify in the 2010s, a middle class Londoner, Poppy, relocates to the flat to start her life over again, following the breakdown of a relationship. We follow the first two families through their lives in the flat, until circumstances dictate that it’s time to leave. And we observe the progress made by the third resident until she comes to a life-changing moment in the here and now.

Every so often a show comes along that you can feel in your bones is Something Significant. Standing at the Sky’s Edge isn’t perfect, but Chris Bush, together with Richard Hawley’s music and lyrics, have structured such a heart-warming, thought-provoking, breath-taking piece of theatre that it stops you in your tracks. There’s no doubt that it’s an homage to Sheffield – specifically the Park Hill Estate which I’d never heard of but had to Google. It is an iconic address; a brutalist design influenced by Le Corbusier, that had slowly dilapidated over the years but is now revitalised and upmarket. However, if you’re not a Sheffield local, it doesn’t matter; you’ll still recognise that same sense of belonging that runs through this show like a stick of rock.It also doesn’t matter if you don’t get the local references. I’m not from Sheffield although I have visited the city on and off for the past forty years. Nevertheless, I confess I’d never heard of Henderson’s Relish! But the audience reaction to its mention implies that most Sheffield kids started eating it on their rusks. The opinion about the BBC that it stands for Bourgeoisie Bastards of Capitalism got a big round of applause; this is a text that is absolutely in tune with its audience.

Forget any similarities with Blood Brothers; if there is another contemporary musical with which this can be linked, it’s Come From Away – with its themes of displaced people in a new environment, relying on the kindness of strangers, emphasising all that’s good about human nature. The show takes us from 1960 to the present day, but of course the flat at the centre of the action doesn’t necessarily stop there. In forty years’ time there could be Sky’s Edge 2, with at least two new generations of residents with their tales to tell. If there’s one thing that this show tells us, it’s that, no matter what, life goes on.

When you enter the auditorium you’re greeted by Ben Stones’ delightfully expansive set, a corner edge of an apartment set in the sky (which houses John Rutledge’s excellent band) and looks down on the flat below. Suspended in the sky are the words I love you will U marry me, the famous graffiti that graced the Park Hill Estate for twenty years from 2001; they will give you a lump in your throat at the end of the show.

One of my pet hates in musicals is where a song doesn’t follow organically from the action that proceeds it and doesn’t move the story on; you should always come out of a musical theatre song in a different place from the one where you went into it, imho. Otherwise, the musical becomes all stop-start and the songs are just spacers separating one piece of action from another. Standing at the Sky’s Edge proves the exception to the rule. Remarkably, for the most part, the songs are extremely stand-alone and come across more like an ancient Greek Chorus observing and commenting on the action, rather than emerging naturally from the plot.

Yet they work brilliantly. Fortunately, this cast is blessed with possibly the best collection of singing voices you’ve ever witnessed in a show, so each number has a massive impact. Even on first hearing, there are a few songs here that will become absolute musical theatre standards in the years to come. The glorious I’m Looking for Someone to Find Me, the emotional For Your Lover Give Some Time, and the stirring Open Up Your Door are already timeless classics. But all the music is truly beautiful.

And the performances are sublime, from the main roles right down to the supporting cast. The ever-reliable Alex Young is brilliant as the middle class Poppy, coping with the culture shock of bringing Ottolenghi Aubergine to South Yorkshire; Rachael Wooding and Robert Lonsdale are terrific as the 1960s Rose and Harry, bursting with vim and vigour until fortunes turn against them; Samuel Jordan is superb as the kind-heartedJimmy (I saw him when he was a University of Northampton student!); Maimuna Memon sings sensationally as Poppy’s ex, Nikki; and, a real star of the future, Faith Omole is stunning as Joy, with the most extraordinary voice and a performance that will break your heart. But everyone works together brilliantly – this is show is the definition of ensemble – and there isn’t a weak link in sight.

I wouldn’t be honest if I didn’t tell you about my slight reservations. First – from a production point of view – there are a couple of sequences where the sound balance between the band and the vocals was totally out of whack, and you couldn’t hear one word of what was being sung – most notably in the final song of Act One, There’s a Storm a-Coming. I also thought that the two deaths that take place in the show – no spoilers, I won’t say who – weren’t really necessary, and that, especially with the younger character, Chris Bush has created something deliberately tragic; it was almost Thomas Hardyesque in its fatalism. The same observational point could have been made without the characters dying. Perhaps, also, the show is 15 minutes too long, and some of the storylines could have progressed a little niftier.And we were also unconvinced by the plot resolution in the 2020 timeline; it’s a gloomy observation that a character who had developed so far forward would allow themselves to regress into a toxic relationship – and we just didn’t believe it of her.

All that said, there’s no doubt this is a landmark show, that absolutely puts Sheffield on the map and is fully deserving of its transfer to the National Theatre in the New Year. Congratulations to everyone on a piece of theatrical history!

Five Alive, Let Theatre Thrive!

Review – Much Ado About Nothing, Crucible Theatre, Sheffield, 24th September 2022

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Funny how things work out. In the same way that every pantomime I expect to see this Christmas will be Jack and the Beanstalk (London Palladium, Sheffield Lyceum, Royal and Derngate Northampton, etc), every other Shakespeare production this summer has been Much Ado About Nothing – RSC, National Theatre, and now here at the Crucible Theatre, Sheffield, with a co-production with Ramps on the Moon. Its Sheffield run closed on Saturday, but we were lucky enough to get tickets for its final day. You’ll be pleased to know, gentle reader, that there is a UK tour to follow so you still have a chance to see it!

We were part of a big family outing, some of whom pronounce Much Ado to be their favourite Shakespeare play. I must confess that over the decades I have slowly come around to the belief that this is one of his better shows – but it has taken me a long time to get there. Perhaps I’ve just seen some not-so-good productions in the past, because the storyline never remains in my brain for long and I frequently get confused when I watch it. However, not this time; Robert Hastie’s production tells the story clearly, humorously, and, as I think it will turn out to be, memorably. After all these years, I finally “got it”!

What makes this production stand out is the diverse mix of actors who make up the cast, including disabled, deaf and neurodiverse performers as well as non-disabled actors. It’s a production for everyone; it’s made very clear at the beginning of the performance that if any audience member wants to get up, move around, or do anything else that will help them enjoy the performance, they are welcome to do so. All the cast introduce themselves to the audience at the start, explaining who their character is, how they are dressed, and how they will communicate: some of the cast speak their lines, others sign them, or do a blend of signing and speech. The whole production is captioned as well; it’s a veritable feast of communication!

It’s set in the modern era – in Messina, allegedly, but it could be anywhere that’s reasonably well off. Leonato, the Governor of the province, has a very nice pad with what we suspect is a lovely conservatory at the back of the stage that leads out into the garden, where “much ado” takes place. There’s a charming start to the show as the various members of the cast congregate in the conservatory, only for Don Pedro (Dan Parr, excellent) to realise that whilst they’re inside looking out, we’re all sitting outside looking in at him and his friends, so he leads the cast out onto the stage with a friendly hiya. Yes, you might say this production probably isn’t for purists, but then again, Much Ado is hardly likely to tease out many purists from the general theatregoing public.

Hastie’s vision for this production, apart from the general intention to make it as accessible as possible, is to bring out the classic scenes for maximum emotional or humorous impact. For example, everyone loves those favourite scenes where both Benedick and Beatrice overhear talk that the other one is rapturously in love with them. Here, in a hilarious scene, Don Pedro, Claudio and Leonato all receive professional massages whilst ostentatiously chit-chatting about Beatrice’s love for Benedick, who ends up hiding underneath one of the massage tables. In her equivalent scene, Beatrice hides in a few vacant seats in the stalls to overhear Hero, Margaret and Ursula’s gossip about Benedick’s love for her. It’s all lightly, beautifully and believably done, right down to Beatrice’s involuntary outburst of Oh Shit! when she discovers the news and realises that she has to act upon it.

But there are plenty of dark moments in Much Ado – life really isn’t just a bowl of cherries. Are they able to carry off the serious aspects of the play with the same aplomb as the comedy? As it happens, yes. The simple force of Beatrice’s forthright delivery of her instruction to Benedick to “Kill Claudio” has the effect of sending a shudder right through your bones. Taku Mutero’s Claudio changes from being a wet-behind-the-ears romantic sop into a furious brute when Hero’s alleged infidelity is revealed; he certainly knows how to spoil a party. Gerard McDermott’s avuncular Leonato, too, switches from being a rather lovable old sot into a nobleman humiliated and offended by his daughter, dismissing any sense of affection or trust in her. And Claire Wetherall’s Hero herself is remarkably eloquent in her silence – she signs all her lines; somehow it makes her plight even more tragic and unjust.

There are a few modernisations to the text that work really well – re-imagining Dogberry and Verges as Wedding Planners is a stroke of genius, and both Caroline Parker and Lee Farrell bring terrific characterisation to the roles. There’s a brilliant sequence when Dogberry threatens the villainous Borachio and Conrade (terrifically played by Benjamin Wilson and Ciaran Stewart) with an assault by hydrangeas and hops – you had to be there. There are a few other delightful throwaway moments – for example, when Seacole (the excellent Amy Helena) signs a passionate description of two lovers, Benedick is forced to remark “a bit graphic, Seacole!” to much hilarity.

Of course, so much of Much Ado revolves around the presentation of the main duo, Benedick and Beatrice, and both Guy Rhys and Daneka Etchells put in terrific performances. There’s no question that this B and B have both seen a bit of the world and are nobody’s fools; they’re past pandering to anyone else’s whims and just in it for their own self-protection. Mr Rhys is hilarious as he coyly relaxes on a massage bed, accidentally-on-purpose letting a bit of leg show to boost up Beatrice’s interest in him; and Ms Etchells has a range of fantastic facial expressions, as well as a powerful confident delivery, that leave you in no doubt as to Beatrice’s state of mind at any given point.

In a production such as this, with perhaps more people on stage at a time than you might expect, visually it does occasionally get a little messy. There were a few blocking issues, and I felt that one or two of the actors underperformed at times. But there’s no doubting the sheer joy of the production and its extraordinary sense of freshness and liberty. Now that it’s done its time at Sheffield, the production is on the road, visiting Leeds, Birmingham, Nottingham, Ipswich, Stratford East, and Salisbury. Not sure I’ve ever seen a production quite like it! Hugely rewarding, and great storytelling.

4-starsFour They’re Jolly Good Fellows!

Review – Guys and Dolls, Crucible Theatre, Sheffield, 4th January 2020

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Our traditional post-New Year weekend in Sheffield as a Christmas present to Lord and Lady Prosecco just got bigger. This year, also joined by Professor and Mrs Plum, Lord Liverpool, the Countess of Cockfosters and their assorted offspring, twelve of us descended on the St Paul’s Place Pizza Express before hitting the Crucible to enjoy this year’s Christmas show, Guys and Dolls.

Guys and Dolls was, is, and always will be, one of the great American musicals. Jam-packed with memorable songs, outrageous characters, a heart-warming plot and great dance opportunities, it’s guaranteed to bring a smile to the stoniest of faces and an entrechat to the most lumpen of feet. This is the fourth time I’ve seen the show, most memorably the first time in 1982 when I saw a preview of That Famous National Theatre production starring Julia McKenzie, Bob Hoskins, Ian Charleson and Julie Covington (so when I say starring, I mean starring). Least memorable was the 2007 touring production with Alex Ferns and Samantha Janus (as she was then). There was also a fabulous 2014 Chichester production with Peter Polycarpou, Clare Foster, Sophie Thompson and Jamie Parker. Comparisons are of course odious but irresistible; so I’ll try to ignore the earlier productions!

If you don’t know the story of Guys and Dolls, where have you been all your life? Inspired by the stories and characters of Damon Runyon, meet the sniffly song-and-dance artiste Miss Adelaide, whose symptoms get worse throughout the show due to her fiancé, Nathan Detroit’s, inability to commit. Detroit tries to organise an illegal crap game without Miss Adelaide’s knowledge – she wouldn’t approve – but the one thousand bucks, as demanded by the Biltmore Garage to host the game, he ain’t got. Meanwhile, at the Save-a-Soul Mission, Sergeant Sarah Brown is trying to attract penitent punters to her hymn gatherings, but without much success. Enter Gambler Maestro Sky Masterson, a man with charisma bursting out of his wallet. To meet the Biltmore’s demand, Detroit bets $1000 that Masterson won’t take a girl of his choosing on a date to Havana, Cuba. Masterson accepts; Detroit chooses Sarah Brown; and if you don’t know the rest of the story, I’m not going to tell you.

Designer Janet Bird has created an intriguing set with walls that slide in and out of place, and with outer revolving tracks that suggest busy sidewalks, to leave a usefully empty space in the middle for crap games, Hot Box dances and mission hall meetings. Will Stuart’s excellent band are perched aloft, inside what looks like an attic bar (nice for them). Intricate choreographer Matt Flint, back from last year’s Kiss Me Kate, has risen to the challenge of creating those big set piece dance numbers that are often a feature of the Crucible Christmas show. The Crap Shooters’ Ballet followed by Luck be a Lady is powerful and hard-hitting, as it should be; even more entertaining is the marvellous Havana salsa scene, which tells an entertaining story of a couple out for the night, except that he dances with Sarah and she dances with Sky and by the end of the evening they’re having a full-blown argument – all to enticing salsa rhythms, of course.

Robert Hastie has assembled a tremendous cast who all give great performances throughout. Natalie Casey emphasises Miss Adelaide’s camp cutesiness with some wicked facial expressions and vocal deliveries and brings bags of fun to the role whilst still recognising the character’s genuine inner sadness. Alex Young is superb as ever as Sarah Brown, with her magnificent voice taking on Frank Loesser’s iconic songs with supreme ease, her eyes summing up all the imperfections of Sky Masterson’s character with an instant loving scorn. It’s a great portrayal of a good girl gone not necessarily bad, but revelling in her defences being down.

The remarkably versatile Martin Marquez (whose abilities range from musical comedy in Anything Goes, farce in Boeing Boeing to contemporary drama in Blasted) is a mature Nathan Detroit, hiding desperately from his responsibilities to Miss Adelaide. He’s a great singer and provides a more romantic interpretation of the song Sue Me than I’d previously encountered. Kadiff Kirwan impresses as the suave Sky Masterson and also sings and dances terrifically. I’d not come across his work before, but with a great stage presence, Mr Kirwan could definitely be One To Watch for the future.

There’s another superb partnership between TJ Lloyd as Nicely Nicely Johnson and Adrian Hansel as Benny Southstreet; their rendition of the song Guys and Dolls is a highlight of the whole show and of course Mr Lloyd is brilliant in Sit Down You’re Rocking the Boat. I’d enjoyed Mr Hansel’s performance in Hairspray several years ago but Mr Lloyd is new to me – both actors lit up the stage every time they came on and I can’t wait to see them again in the future.

Elsewhere in the cast there’s a kindly performance from Garry Robson as Arvide Abernathy, with a moving performance of More I Cannot Wish You; an enjoyably intimidating Big Jule played by Dafydd Emyr; and a spirited Hallelujah of a performance from one of my favourite actors, Dawn Hope as General Cartwright.

Perhaps a slightly curious staging choice came at the end of the cheeky Marry The Man Today, when Detroit and Masterson appeared on stage and stopped Miss Adelaide and Sarah Brown in their vocal tracks; rather than having the two women enjoy their moment of girlish fantasies they were forced to face the reality of their husbandly destinies in person, which made the female characters feel subservient to their men. The Countess of Cockfosters wasn’t impressed with this staging decision and on reflection I have to agree.

Nevertheless, although it’s almost a three-hour show the time simply flies by. Guys and Dolls maintains the high-quality tradition of the Crucible Christmas shows with its spectacle, skill and artistry, superb music and dance elements and provides plenty to talk about it the bar afterwards. Recommended!

Review – Kiss Me, Kate, Crucible Theatre, Sheffield, 5th January 2019

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Every New Year, Mrs Chrisparkle and I treat Lord and Lady Prosecco to a post-Christmas outing: a weekend in Sheffield (bear with me) to stay at the lovely Mercure Hotel, have some scrummy meals and to see both the Crucible’s Christmas musical AND the Lyceum panto – and we’ve not had a duff experience yet. Over the last couple of years, we’ve taken to seeing the panto in the evening – the weight of a few extra wines and a more end-of-term atmosphere always helps. Which left us this matinee with the prospect of seeing Cole Porter’s fantastic, and now grammatically correct, Kiss Me, Kate.

This was one of the Dowager Mrs C’s favourite musicals and I was brought up on a diet of Always True to You Darling in my Fashion and From This Moment On; not a bad way to be brought up, to be honest. But this is only the third time I’ve seen it; once in 1987 at the Old Vic with the redoubtable Nichola McAuliffe, and at Chichester in 2012 where Hannah Waddingham attempted to rule the roost over Alex Bourne. That London production was great; the Chichester one a little disappointing. But I’m going to throw my hat into the ring and say that this new production at Sheffield by Paul Foster tops them both.

I’m sure you know the story – a touring production of The Taming of the Shrew is the vehicle for an on-and-off love story between the two leads, Fred Graham (playing Petruchio, also the producer of the show) and Miss Lilli Vanessi (playing Katherine, the star attraction). Lilli senses that their romance is back on track (they are already divorced at the beginning of the show) but when she discovers that the flowers she received from Fred were actually meant for cabaret starlet Lois (playing Bianca), she gets into a Katherine-type rage and takes it out on him on stage. He, being not entirely a true gentleman, gives as good as he gets, and she spends most of the rest of the show unable to sit down because – well, because, gentle reader, he gave her a damn good spanking. It happens in Shakespeare, so why the hell not here. Only one way to tame a shrew; women respect it. (That was a joke, by the way.)

Lilli’s plans to abandon the rest of the run are brought to an abrupt halt by the persuasions of two gangsters who (erroneously, as it happens) need the show to be a success so that Fred can pay his dues to their Mr. Big. Her new beau Harrison Howell arrives to take her away – but, will she find true love with him, or with Fred? If you don’t know the answer to that by now, you never will.

It’s true; in the current climate, some aspects of this show have dated to become ever so slightly worrying. The physical animosity between Fred and Lilli does border on domestic violence (even though it’s played entirely for laughs) and the subjugation of women’s will to men’s is still as clear as it was in Shakespeare’s day – you have to feel a cringe coming on when Katherine/Lilli sings I Am Ashamed that Women are So Simple. But this is distinctly a period piece, with no attempts (quite right, I think) to update it to the 21st century. Porter’s showtunes are still as 1940s jazz as they can be; the gangsters are still the same Chicago thickos they always were. Porter’s brilliant lyrics anchor the show in his own era; when one of the funniest lines in any of the songs is “he may have hair upon his chest, but, sister so has Lassie”, there’s just no point trying to update it. Provided there are audience members who remember Lassie, the joke works.

We’ve been used over the years at Sheffield to seeing the big choreography routines by Alistair David, who made such a mark in shows like My Fair Lady and Show Boat. For this show, the choreography is by Matt Flint, and I have to say I’ve not come across his work before. But he’s terrific! His style is much more intimate and involved; he sets up scenes with so many varied things happening in different parts of the stage all at the same time, then brings them all together for a big impact. The second Act opens with his fantastic staging of Too Darn Hot, led with immaculate artistry and precision by Layton Williams as Paul; it’s one of those classic dance sequences when you know you’re seeing something special and you never want it to end. As an aside, our performance was captioned – a great innovation, imho – and it was fascinating to read the lyrics to Too Darn Hot (as well all the other songs) – it’s easy to overlook just exactly what this song is all about!

Elsewhere, the show is peppered with memorable moments, mainly involving the big numbers. Paul Foster has concentrated most of his efforts into getting the maximum entertainment out of the songs, so there is no attempt to shorten any of Cole Porter’s mammoth efforts. I guess a downside to that is that if you don’t like the songs much (then why are you here?) you probably won’t enjoy it much. The show opens with (fittingly) Another Op’nin’ Another Show, at first fronted by Lilli’s dresser Hattie (a beautiful, warm-hearted performance by Cindy Belliot) but then it opens out to a wide-ranging musical examination of all the cast and crew arriving at this new theatre, with all the tensions and excitements that can contain – and it’s an exciting and exhilarating start.

Other highlights include Amy Ellen Richardson’s Lois/Bianca teasing routine with the three suitors for Tom Dick or Harry – one of these, Dex Lee, plays Bill/Lucentio and I always admire his brilliant, acrobatic dancing; Rebecca Lock (a brilliant Katherine/Lilli with a stunning voice) throwing herself around in fits of fury during I Hate Men; Edward Baker-Duly (also brilliant as Fred/Petruchio – I loved his ham, and then even hammier, vocal performance as the stagey actor) ripping through the memories of all those women in Where is the Life that Late I Led; Amy Ellen Richardson’s funny and flirtatious performance of Always True To You Darling in my Fashion; and the simple but oh so effective staging of Brush Up Your Shakespeare by Delroy Atkinson and Joel Montague as the two theatrical gangsters, occupying the spotlights – Mr Atkinson in particular gave a brilliantly expressive physically comic performance. I also appreciated the fact that, for much of the performance, James McKeon’s orchestra was hidden at the back of the set, but for the songs that belonged to Taming of the Shrew, it was on view – a very nice touch, I thought.

The only thing that slightly disappointed me was the staging of one of my favourite songs from the show, From This Moment On. It’s a difficult one. The song was never written for Kiss Me Kate; Porter wrote it for another show from which it was dropped at the last minute, but it was obviously too good to waste, and Cole Porter was an expert musical recycler. From This Moment On appears in the film version of Kiss Me Kate, where it works perfectly as a number between Bianca and her three suitors; but the dramatic usefulness of that has already been taken by Tom Dick or Harry. So nowadays the custom is to have it sung by Harrison Howell and Lilli before he sweeps her away to the magicless life of a military wife – or not. Structurally, it makes perfect sense to have it there; but in practice the characters are too old and the situation too cynical (ouch! Sorry!) for the song to work properly. It’s a young person’s song – a starting out in life song – filled with genuinely great expectations, and I’d prefer to give the song back to Lois and Bill. In characterisation and acting, Dafydd Emyr made an imposing Howell, but, for me, it just didn’t work.

But this is one small quibble in an otherwise excellent show that thrilled us all, and we continued to talk about it later that evening and all through the next. One of those productions to savour and recall with happiness for years to come. It’s on until Saturday 12th January. Would be a crime to miss it!

Review – The Crucible, Final Year Actors at the University of Northampton, Jacksons Lane Theatre, Highgate, 7th June 2018

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For the second production of our day seeing all three of the Acting Students’ final plays in London, they gave us their performance of Arthur Miller’s 1952 play, The Crucible. This piece is one of the defining moments in the history of 20th century drama. Perceptive, shrewd, and enormously powerful, it took the Salem Witch Trials of the 1690s and presented them to its 1950s audience as a reflection of the Macarthyism that was decimating American society at the time. In these current days where, once again, society is being tested on both sides of the pond, there couldn’t be a more appropriate time to revive it.

As it is such a significant play, and almost uniquely amongst the best drama created in the last 100 years, I think there is a tendency to treat The Crucible with great reverence. I’ve seen it a few times now, both on stage and on TV, and it always comes across exactly the same; dark, portentous, gloomy, – a true recreation of the 1690s in all its desolate desperation. There’s a huge temptation to concentrate on the supernatural spookiness of witchcraft as a force for evil and the triumph of darkness over light; to be honest, I’m not sure if it is possible to do it any other way. Certainly, Nadia Papachronopoulou’s production is as traditional as ever.

Sadly it also felt very static; which is no way to describe the escalation of events that happen during the four acts of this play. We go from childish pranks and secret relationships, through the questioning, distrust and imprisonment of various innocent bystanders, to individual acts of heroism and unjustified instances of capital punishment; that hardly sounds like a static play. But I got very little sense of plot progression and I must confess at times I found it very hard to stay focussed.True, it wasn’t helped by the noisy chattering and giggling of a group of students in the audience. It may well have been their first experience of live theatre; no better time then, to learn how to behave when you’re out. But I just felt that the production was a little risk-averse and very predictable; it might have benefited from some big, bold, unexpected statement that never quite happened.

Nevertheless, there were some good performances; I very much enjoyed Farrah Dark’s portrayal of Abigail Williams, a defiant woman although still little more than a child herself, concealing past indiscretions by employing the old tactic that attack as the best form of defence. Oliver Franks also gave a strong performance as the grim Reverend Parris, a man driven by self-interest, way in excess of any Christian love. The main role of John Proctor was given a determined and powerful performance by Alexander Forrester-Coles, bringing out both the character’s nobility and fallibility. His wife, Elizabeth, was played with immaculate sensitivity by Ceara Coveney;D B Gallagher gave a truly menacing performance as the wicked Judge Danforth; and there was a nicely understated performance by Naomi Ell as Ezekiel Cheever, the diligent but essentially kindly court clerk. Surprisingly, a few cast members seemed a little imprisoned by their roles rather than liberated by them – which was unfortunate because I know they’re great actors from their previous performances! There were also a few instances where some lines were garbled and just weren’t delivered in the assured manner that I would have expected.

Not an outright triumph, but nevertheless enjoyable, and it told its story clearly and with some memorable scenes.