Review – Drunk, McOnie Company – revisited – Bridewell Theatre, 8th February 2014

Posted on February 12, 2014 by therealchrisparkle

I was lucky enough to see the McOnie Company’s new show Drunk on its first preview night in Leicester, but as Mrs Chrisparkle spent that night in New Jersey, training American and British colleagues on the art of how not to rub each other up the wrong way, it was a case of “Dance for One”. But when she read my blog about what a great show it was, she announced that she too would like to see for herself what all the fuss was about. Thus it was that last Saturday evening we walked along the Strand and crossed that boundary into the No Man’s Land that is Fleet Street after dark, hung a right into Bride Lane, walked the wrong way around the church and eventually found the little Bridewell theatre.

It’s a neat little place, with a very welcoming bar that serves nice red wine, and I thought it was a friendly touch that a lady came round all the tables in the bar asking if we wanted to buy a programme. I had already decided that I wouldn’t need another one, as I still had my programme from Leicester, less than two weeks previously. But I can’t resist a fresh programme, so, much to the scoffing of Mrs C, I parted with my two quid; and I’m glad I did, as the new programme has much more information in it, including (what a 21st century world this is), the twitter addresses for all the cast, creative team and band. There are no reserved seats at the Bridewell; you just pile in and grab the best one you can. A word of warning; don’t do as I did, and expect the email which you have printed off as your e-ticket to magically gain you entrance to the auditorium – you have to present it to the box office first and swap it for tickets, which the door staff then take off you. Not realising that led to our losing our place in the queue with my subsequent brief but tangible annoyance that others, who were behind us, were nicking all the best seats. I shouldn’t have worried though, because the Bridewell is a neat and compact venue, and even if you are sitting at the outer edges of the rows you still get a very good view of the action.

If you’ve not seen the show before and want to know what it’s all about, may I refer you to my previous blog – just go back a couple of paragraphs and click on the link. It’s always fascinating to see a show a second time; to notice if there are any changes, maybe things you missed the first time, things that are better, or worse, than you remember. That for me is the absolute magic about live entertainment – no two performances are ever identical. And whilst I don’t think there are any significant differences, there were some aspects that I’d overlooked in my first review.

I’d forgotten the brilliant first solo dance, when Daniel Collins’ Martini first shows up, all swagger and swank, and acting as though he owns the place. Gemma Sutton’s Ice thinks she’s really landed on her feet with this hot new date, but then, isn’t it always the way, he’s actually meeting someone else…and someone else… well, Martini is a very versatile drink, after all. It’s a really funny and sophisticated routine, which tells its own mini-epic story in the space of a few minutes.

I also appreciated much more this time the scene when we are introduced to Ice’s first boyfriend. He was her Adam, and no doubt she was his Eve; but it was he who tempted her with the apple, and I guess cider is many people’s first experience with drink. It’s a beautiful scene between Miss Sutton and Simon Hardwick – fresh and innocent, cheeky and loving, and very touching. When she decides that she’s had enough of first love and needs to move on, his sense of rejection is very moving. Looking back, you wonder if she really made the right decision that day.

Anabel Kutay’s Absinthe seems sexier than ever with her studied slow pouring of her intoxicating liquid down everyone’s helplessly open mouths – there’s no doubt who’s in charge of dishing out hangovers here. The Pimms party of four toffs out on their jolly rampage is still, for me, the funniest scene; and I was very taken by Lucinda Lawrence’s paparazzi’d star Vodka, like a Russian Norma Desmond, languishing at the bar, bedecked in ermine, alluring yet aloof. The Scotch and Rum scene is sensitively and beautifully done; this love story between two American soldiers in 1943 starts with a rolled up note stuffed in a bottle, such as you might find drifting on to a desert island beach and ends with the knowledge that only one of them survived the war. The superbly tender performances of Ashley Andrews and Fela Lufadeju quite bring a lump to the throat.

Finally, I love the cheery and generous curtain call, with each cast member introducing another cast member; and the final exit from the stage, the cast hungover after 80 minutes of hedonism, helps us back into the real world too. As they slope off, from our seats on the side you hear them fantasising about getting cheesy chips on the way home, and you think, “that’s not such a bad idea”…

I was already sold on the show, but what did Mrs C think? I could tell she loved it, from the way she leaned forward throughout the whole performance, in that body language expression that betrays how involved you are with what’s on stage. We both feel that Drew McOnie has got a real winner on his hands here; with its innovative combination of theatre and dance, he’s created something really special. It’s on till March 1st at the Bridewell but surely it must have some future life afterwards? No matter what, it’s a must-see whether you love dance or drama.

Review – Drunk, McOnie Company, Leicester Curve Studio, 28th January 2014

Posted on January 31, 2014 by therealchrisparkle

Drew McOnie’s Drunk. No, that’s not a criticism, it’s an exciting and vivacious evening of music and dance that had its first airing last Tuesday at the Leicester Curve. It was only a month ago that I saw his stage work for the first time in the raunchy and inventive Chicago, at the very same theatre. Now he has launched his own dance company with a new show, the exhilarating and cheery Drunk; 80 minutes of fast, frenetic, funny and fabulous choreography interspersed with the story of how “Ice” spent her evening, waiting for a date and recollecting ex-lovers by means of Grant Olding’s wistful and witty songs.

Whilst Ice (Miss Gemma Sutton on terrific vocal form) is hanging expectantly round the bar, she encounters various customers who all take on the mantle of representing various drinks. Scotch, Martini, cider, Absinthe, vodka, champagne and rum, all get a mention in the programme but I reckon there were quite a few others there who turned up at the bar with the intention of getting smashed. Ice herself is somewhat slow to nail her drink colours to the mast, and with the others all demanding to know what she wants to order, the pressure is on – and she can’t decide. It’s as though her senses are assaulted by the huge variety of alcoholic choices; confronted by an overload of optics one might say. Surprisingly, Ice isn’t a great mixer; I guess when the heat is on she tends to water down the contents a bit. Thus she looks horrified when getting coerced into a dance routine by those reckless spirits cavorting around her, although she soon gets the hang of it. As each digestif gets digested, she starts to loosen up, and as the evening comes to an end, she finally melts and makes her choice.

From my position in the front row of the Curve Studio last Tuesday, I felt a tremendous impact from the show. It’s like a waft of pleasure that just hits you direct from the stage. The set is simple but effective. You’re in a nightclub, with the wonderful band amassed on the other side of the bar, who create a fantastically sophisticated sound that incorporates jazz and swing, with elements of musical theatre; in fact, the score contains a wide variety of musical influences and absolutely calls out for a cast album to be made. Along the bar counter are enticingly shaped frosted glasses and bottles that the dancers will later take to both their mouths and their hearts; apart from that there are just a couple of stylised box seats scattered around and an empty stage for the eight superb performers to fill. The majority of the costumes are in various shades of grey and white, which look classy and elegant by themselves and then take on the livelier colours of whatever light is being projected on to them, creating an almost chameleon effect. The whole thing is a cunning combination of classiness and self-indulgence; in a nutshell, it all looks and sounds gorgeous.

The real impact though is from the incredibly lively and strong dancing. These eight performers really know the meaning of entertainment. At close range, you can see so clearly the huge effort and stamina required for them to do what they do, and I am full of admiration. I don’t know how collaborative the choreographic process is – very, I expect – because each dancer seems to have their own particular moves or styles at which they excel and which form a major part of their contribution to the show; for example no one does slinky sexy quite like Miss Anabel Kutay, and no one does athletic high kicks quite like Mr Ashley Andrews, and both of them have great routines that encourage them to dig deep and absolutely perform their socks off.

What sets this show apart from many other excellent dance pieces is its clear narrative, as expressed through the songs, rather than being a group of scenes each with equal abstract weight from which you assemble your own interpretation of what’s going on. That’s what makes it feel more like a one-act play, enhanced with music and dancing, instead of simply a piece of contemporary dance. It has the “one woman’s journey” element of Andrew Lloyd Webber’s Tell Me on a Sunday, but with those great moves to accompany it, it’s a lot more entertaining.

The whole show flows beautifully from scene to scene, and each scene generates its own humour or pathos as well as its superb dancing; but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have my favourite moments. I loved the humour and choreography of the opening routine where all the dancers start chatting up their chosen drinks and the “drinkies” themselves start to respond back, so that they end up almost making love to each other. The thought of Mr Simon Hardwick’s slightly shocked response to his bottle snuggling up to him (“oh, that’s a bit intimate”) still makes me laugh. Another highlight was Miss Katy Lowenhoff’s glittering (literally) appearance as Champagne, the belle of the bar, whizzing about in an appropriately bubbly fashion, whilst everyone else was singing from their pompous wine tasting notes. But perhaps the funniest sequence featured Messrs Andrews, Collins, and Misses Kutay and Lawrence as four posh sporty types, chukka-ing their polo ponies and getting down to some very close quarters rowing. It had the audience in hysterics.

Drunk has a very grown-up feel to it, and it doesn’t shy away from a number of adult themes, which absolutely proves that top-quality dance is probably the most expressive form of theatre you can see. In productions like this, you don’t need words to be eloquent. It was one of those shows where you came away at the end a better person than the one you went in as. I sense this new show is going to make a big impression on the dance world, and it was a privilege to be part of its first ever audience. There’s only a handful of seats left for Saturday’s performance at the Curve, but it’s going on for a month’s season at the Bridewell theatre in London in February. Really tempted to go again!

Review – Matthew Bourne’s Sleeping Beauty, Milton Keynes Theatre, 30th January 2013

Posted on January 31, 2013 by therealchrisparkle

A new Matthew Bourne production always has the promise of greatness. It was at the Wycombe Swan that we first saw his Adventures in Motion Pictures’ Swan Lake, one Saturday matinee in 1995, and we were electrified by it. I think we saw it three or four times within that first year, and whenever it comes round, as it often does, it’s our sworn duty to go and see it again. Since then we’ve seen Cinderella, Nutcracker, Highland Fling, The Car Man, Play Without Words, Dorian Gray, and last year’s Early Adventures, all of which are somewhere on the scale between very good and excellent. And now we have Sleeping Beauty, which to my mind is the nearest he has come to recreating the theatrical thrill that is his Swan Lake.

Good to see Mr Bourne is still working with his tried and tested colleagues. One glance at the programme and you are reassured to see that Lez Brotherston has designed the set and costumes. The sets are amazing – opulent and classy, and still leaving a large central space for all the dancing to take place. Particularly stunning are the house and garden scene for Act Two and the neon lit wedding reception for Act Four. The costumes are splendid too – especially outstanding are those for the good fairies and Carabosse. The puppetry to convey the baby Aurora is also brilliant: subtly done, remarkably realistic and very funny.

One of the problems I have with some of Mr Bourne’s works is that, for contemporary dance productions, sometimes they’re just isn’t enough choreography. Well he’s certainly put that right with Sleeping Beauty. It’s jam-packed full of dance; and one of the finest sequences comes quite early on with a remarkable pas de six performed by Count Lilac and the five fairies. Lively, exciting, dramatic and also humorous, the variations are all superbly danced and you can’t help but grin from ear to ear whilst watching.

A very small quibble – it’s hard to tell from the programme who is performing which role as you have a choice of two or three performers for each character and no information insert to guide you for that individual performance. So in my mentions of any particular dancers in this blog, I sincerely hope I have allocated the correct dancer to the correct role – I am relying on their bio photos and my mental images of what they looked like! I’m pretty sure our Count Lilac was Christopher Marney, recently a well deserved nomination for outstanding performance in Modern Dance in the National Dance Awards. He was excellent in this Act One pas de six, but also fantastic in the climactic assault on the wicked Caradoc at the end, even if his masked appearance with Leo (Chris Trenfield at our performance) making their way to the wedding reception, did put me slightly in mind of the 1960s Batman and Robin. I was also a little put off by the visual tableau just before the interval when it looked like we’d gone all Transylvanian. Mr Marney looked highly creepy in this scene, and I thought Leo’s transformation into a good fairy could have been done a little more subtly.

Chris Trenfield is great as Leo – he does some wonderful solos and has a fantastic rapport with Hannah Vassallo who played Aurora when we saw it. His highly athletic dancing, dressed as a working gamekeeper whilst everyone else is in their fancy garden party whites, is visually outstanding and Mr Trenfield really gets into the rough-and-ready aspect of the character. The only duff note of the whole evening for us was the step sequence depicting Leo going on an interminably long walk to find Aurora. It was funny at first, but then it just went on too long – and choreographically, it’s not very interesting. Miss Vassallo was a superb Aurora; cheeky, slightly tomboyish when we first see her; amusingly checking out all the suitors at the garden party, and her dancing with Leo in that scene was exquisite. She looks perfect for the role too – precisely how one would imagine Sleeping Beauty to look in real life.

Casting a severe spell over the garden party scene is Caradoc, the nasty son of the dark fairy Carabosse, both played by Ben Bunce (I think) in the production we saw. His appearance as Carabosse in the first scene is thrilling. He looks like the most malicious drag queen diva bullying his demands on the ineffectual King and Queen, almost as if he were a Beardsley creation (Aubrey, not Peter). Mrs Chrisparkle wasn’t over-menaced by Carabosse’s two attendants though; more wet than threat, she felt. As the dark fairy’s son Caradoc, Mr Bunce is the height of snooty, manipulative villainy and his scenes with Aurora are mesmerising; you’d swear Rohypnol was involved. There’s a wonderful coup de theatre – 100% Bourne – when Leo goes to wake Aurora in her bed… and it isn’t her. Caradoc’s final come-uppance is a thrilling scene, with great visual impact and energetic choreography, not to mention effective use of stage tattoos.

The whole ensemble are on top form, with great support from Luke Murphy as the footman and Katy Lowenhoff as the nanny, Daniel Collins and Danny Reubens amongst the suitors and Kate Lyons and Mari Kamata amongst the fairies. Apologies if I have some of the casting wrong – but without a detailed cast list the programme is almost worthless!

This is a very fine addition to the Bourne canon; and whilst it has neither the painful emotional drive of Swan Lake nor its extraordinarily varied and satisfying score, it’s a delight to see that Mr Bourne is still producing dance productions of the highest quality and vigour. It’s already had a sell-out season at Sadler’s Wells; it was a completely full house when we saw it – wonderful for a Wednesday night in Milton Keynes – and it will continue to tour. I see no reason why this shouldn’t follow Swan Lake and have a proper West End Theatre run. We would be very happy to see it again.

PS. The Milton Keynes Theatre experience is definitely on the ascendant. Not only have they opened up the area of the foyer which used to be a supporters/club members/rich people only area, and now which provides much more space for everyone to relax pre-show, they’ve now also got a chap tinkling the ivories, and I must say he was jolly good. A really jazzy funky version of Justin Timberlake’s Cry Me A River sent us into the theatre with a spring in our step and having forgotten the cares and woes of the day. Well done!