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Review – My Fair Lady, Festival Theatre, Chichester, 23rd July 2026

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Having hosted more than its fair share of disappointing productions over the last few years, Chichester desperately needed to get back on track with a big, crowd pleasing summer show to help restore its reputation; and the decision to mount its first ever production of that remarkable musical, My Fair Lady, was a winner. Without doubt this is Chichester’s best production since Oliver! and possibly for years before that too. No one could have turned their hand to delivering a big successful musical production for Chichester like director Rachel Kavanaugh, ten years on from her sensational Half a Sixpence. And who would have thought this old warhorse of a show could pack a Thursday matinee in July so that the huge Festival Theatre was officially sold out?

Kavanaugh’s amazing gift is to create a show that’s familiar to 90% of its audience and make us feel as though this is the first time we’ve ever seen it. This My Fair Lady is fresh, funny, exciting; full of unexpected treats and insightful characterisations, spectacular choreography, glorious harmonies, and song after song that will keep you singing this outstanding score for days to come. Peter McKintosh’s creative set makes great use of the revolving stage, combined with Howard Harrison’s superb lighting design; take the Embassy Ball, for example, so cleverly and concisely conjured up by just some chairs positioned around the edge of the stage with some well-placed lighting.

McKintosh’s costume design is also outstanding, with immaculately created Edwardian gowns and evening wear contrasting with the drab flower sellers and dustmen. The Ascot racegoers outfits are inspired by the classic Cecil Beaton designs but with an eye to this production’s specific colour motifs that crop up again and again; the use of purple in this show, for the flowers, the lighting, the confetti and Eliza’s dress is both beautiful and strangely emotional.

Lerner and Loewe pulled out all the stops when they wrote My Fair Lady; every single one of its sixteen or so songs is a classic, and the trick, which this production nails absolutely, is to perform them so that they both tickle our nostalgia with something comfortably recognisable but also give us insights so that they reveal something new. This is thanks to both the brilliance of the individual performers and the intelligence of the direction. In Wouldn’t It Be Loverly you genuinely envision poor deprived Eliza experiencing unlimited chocolate and warmth because in Keziah Ibe’s fantastic performance it’s her imagination that drives her singing. When Ms Ibe performs Show Me with her infatuated Freddy, he tries to answer back to all her musical demands but she won’t allow him a word in edgeways in a gloriously choreographed “battle of the sexes” routine. And when Higgins concludes the show with I’ve Grown Accustomed to her Face the insights into his character are so profound that there is scarcely a dry eye in the house. That’s just three examples of how you can push the boundaries of understanding whilst remaining completely faithful and respectful of the original.

The cast are outstanding throughout. The ensemble are magnificent with both their singing and dancing; Joe Henry, Kody Mortimer, Jonathan Bourne and Nic Cain set the bar very high from the opening moments with their funny, sensitive and beautifully sung accompaniment to Wouldn’t It Be Loverly, and Nicholas Duncan and TJ Lloyd lead the dustmen’s ensemble in Doolittle’s two big numbers with terrific energy and musicality. Belinda Lang is a hilariously disapproving Mrs Higgins, caustically withering with her every pronouncement, and Finty Williams makes a marvellously sensible Mrs Pearce, whom you sense is just one sentence away from giving Higgins a well-deserved telling-off.

Ben Culleton makes the most of On the Street Where You Live as a totally entranced Freddy, delightfully hapless and hopeless but so incredibly good-natured about it. The always marvellous Tony Jayawardena gives a sprightly and not too eccentric performance as Pickering, luxuriating in his elegant housecoat and unexpectedly knowledgeable about ladies’ couture. I always think one of the most challenging problems of My Fair Lady is how to make the character of Alfred P Doolittle credible and funny without careering into pantomime, and Gary Milner is simply brilliant in the role, delivering a spot-on level of cheek, occasionally breaking the fourth wall. He’s like the engaging uncle who used to make you laugh as a kid with his little winks and playful approach. Stephen Mear’s choreography for Mr Milner is so well judged, giving the ensemble two full-blown big routines whilst allowing Mr M to concentrate on his jaunty walks and character-led reactions. Choreographically, the outstanding moment of the show is With a Little Bit of Luck, an immaculate showpiece crammed with humour. I’ve never seen pewter tankardography before, and it’s something we need more of.

The show does, of course, rely heavily on its two leads and here we have some truly inspired casting. Higgins is played by Hadley Fraser, whom I have never seen in musical theatre before, and he’s extraordinary. There’s no doubting that this Higgins is a wretched, grown-up spoilt brat, totally lacking any social graces, and an embarrassment to everyone around him. This is played to full comic effect in I’m an Ordinary Man, where he literally cavorts around the stage, reliving all the aspects of womanhood that deeply disturb him. In fact, he’s profoundly damaged by his own personality. I’ve Grown Accustomed to her Face is not mere regret for the way he has behaved towards Eliza, but it shows us how he lacks the mental resources to go on without her. I loved the final, deliciously inconclusive tableau of the production, with Eliza in the driver’s seat and Higgins a blubbering mess lower down the pecking order. If she does stay with him (and that’s no foregone conclusion) there’s no doubt who’ll be wearing the trousers in that household.

Rachel Kavanaugh had the courage and foresight to cast the unknown Charlie Stemp in Half a Sixpence ten years ago and look what a brilliantly brave decision that was. In My Fair Lady she has cast Keziah Ibe as Eliza in her professional stage debut, a massive responsibility on young shoulders, but once again under Ms Kavanaugh’s tutelage, a star is born. Ms Ibe has a great voice – that’s a given; but she is so expressive in her singing, and her facial expressions have such eloquence that she delivers a performance of constant surprises and delights. A great feel for both the comedy and the pathos of the role, she truly is the most remarkable find; and she brings the house down with her conversation and behaviour at Ascot. You’re always on her side, and I can’t wait to see her career develop.

Two years after Oliver! Chichester is properly back on form with this remarkable revival. Surely a West End transfer must come its way?

Five Alive, Let Theatre Thrive!

Review – Atonement, Chichester Festival Theatre, 17th June 2026

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Upfront confession: Mrs Chrisparkle and I were unfamiliar with both the novel and film of Ian McEwan’s Atonement, but our theatre companions, Professor and Mrs Plum, are both avid fans of the book and assured us that the play is very faithful to the original. Christopher Hampton has adapted the book for the stage; he had also authored the 2007 screen adaptation, so I guess he didn’t have more than a few tweaks to create the finished article. I jest of course.

In case, like us, you don’t know; set in 1935, 13-years-old Briony Tallis who lives at the big family mansion has fallen head over heels in love with Robbie who works as a gardener there. Robbie, however, is smitten with Briony’s adult sister Cecilia, and Briony is jealous of their relationship. At a family gathering, Briony’s cousin Lola is raped but does not see the face of her attacker, so cannot identify him for certain. Briony tells the police that she saw that it was Robbie. Robbie protests his innocence; but whom do the police believe? In the second Act, the story continues into World War Two with Cecilia and Briony now both nurses. Briony has concluded that she was wrong to declare Robbie was Lola’s attacker – but what can she do to atone?

This production is most definitely a game of two halves. Act One comes across as fragmented and uneven, a scattergun of scenes that appear to go nowhere, backed up by an ingenious but messy two-level staging that relies heavily on projections. Half an hour in and I was completely clueless as to what the play was all about; a cross between Upstairs Downstairs and The Go-Between that pussyfooted around without ever making a point. Act Two is the production’s saving grace, acquiring a fluidity and much better storytelling finesse. The twist at the end (IYKYK) doesn’t have the emotional punch that it does, I understand, in the book; but, nevertheless, comes across as a creative intellectual puzzle that no one would ever guess. And I’m certainly not going to give the game away.

I can see why it’s obviously a very successful book; one of those rare works that not only tells its own tale but at the same time analyses its own creation, like The French Lieutenant’s Woman, or Coleridge’s Kubla Khan, or indeed Spandau Ballet’s True. Such works have a strange superpower which demands that you sit up and pay attention. I wonder, however, if the first Act would be more convincing if it didn’t align so closely with the book; the story doesn’t unfold as organically as it should.

In fact, the storytelling – at least in the first Act – takes a back seat. I overheard a couple during the interval where a man couldn’t work out what had just happened and needed his wife to clarify that Lola had been raped. I think if that vital fact isn’t made clear, then somehow the direction is going AWOL. There were a few directorial choices in the first Act that made me bridle; is it necessary, for example, when Cecilia jumps into the water to retrieve the missing parts of the jug, for her to be wearing such a see-through top? And indeed, Robbie giving us a flash of his bare bum in the bath added absolutely nothing to the story and just made me feel like the actors were being somehow manipulated. The breaking of the Meissen vase was, by the way, one of the least convincing stage effects I’ve ever seen – a proper shocker given the resources that Chichester can access. Additionally, it’s a shame that uneven LED panels creating the big screen effect at the back of the stage mean that projections of written words, or translations from French, both of which are important for plot development, look wonky at times. It’s not a huge problem overall, but it does give you the impression that the production was done on the cheap.

There are, fortunately, some first-rate performances to take our minds off some of the more ham-fisted elements of the production. Debra Gillett livens up every scene with her entertaining portrayals of the snooty Aunt Emily Tallis and the authoritarian Sister Drummond. Jonathan Oliver gives a nicely judged portrayal of the police inspector and the adult Pierrot Quincey, James Backway is delightfully obnoxious as Paul Marshall but a convincingly supportive corporal Tommy Nettle, and Isabella Dempster excellent as the privileged and pompous young Briony. At our performance, the young brothers Jackson and Pierrot were played by Jacob Isaacs and Felix Kennedy who gave very believable, assured performances.

The final scene, set in 1999, is dominated by the elderly Briony, now a successful author, played with calm conviction by Jessica Turner. In the lead roles, Jasper Talbot is excellent as Robbie, particularly in his wartime and post-war scenes, suffering both physical and mental battle scars; and Miriam Petche is also very strong as Cecilia, a determined, forthright and unforgiving character, forced to confront injustice in a manner for which she was not educated.

The second Act is engrossing, revealing, and satisfying; it’s a shame that the first Act is such a slow and unengaging introduction to the meat of the story. Nevertheless, there’s much to enjoy and admire, and there’s no underestimating the brilliance of McEwan’s plot construction. Atonement continues at the Festival Theatre until Saturday 20th June.

3-starsThree-sy Does It!

Review – The Comedy Crate Festival, Northampton, 6th June 2026

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Comedy CrateA thing of beauty is a joy for ever, and things don’t come much more beautiful than the Comedy Crate and their regular feasts of fun for the good citizens of Northampton and its environs. In the past, the Comedy Crate has hosted a weekender festival over two summer days, but the World Cup and popular music festivals (whatever they are) are getting in the way this year so the weekender has been split into two all-dayers. All the other elements are the same – the three venues (Charles Bradlaugh, The Black Prince and The Lamplighter), a choice of three shows five times throughout the day, and a cheap ticket price buying you one of those must-have wristbands. What more could anyone want?

Comedy Crate June 26Everyone will have created their own individual choice of shows, and I can only tell you about our own particular itinerary, so here goes! As they’re all WIPs (works in progress) in preparation for either the Edinburgh Fringe, UK tours or prospective shows of the distant future, we know we’re unlikely to see a truly polished product, and so giving out star ratings is inappropriate at this stage. So I won’t do it!

2pm – Ahir Shah in The Charles Bradlaugh

One of our favourite comedians and an Edinburgh award-winner to boot, Ahir Shah is WIPing up material for his new show, Golden, at the Pleasance Courtyard, Edinburgh from 6 – 30 August. This was very much a game of two halves. The first half was slick, polished and classic Ahir. Now that he’s comfortably in his 30s, he reflects on what growing up is all about, relating to family life, class and one’s role in society. We find out how come he doesn’t know his place in the Indian caste system, and get an insight into why he doesn’t trust the Co-Op. Halfway through, however, his material takes a darker, more serious tone as he works his way through some troublesome family issues, and here he is still working hard on finding the funny in the toughness. Many’s the time one sees a comedian and realises that their set is actually an exercise in self-therapy, and this is definitely the vibe here! He admitted that he had prepared a slick ending for the show, but he’s decided against it because it’s just not honest enough. So while there’s no work needed on the first half of the show, the second half still needs to find a shape. But if anyone can, he can, and I’m sure this will be another tremendous Edinburgh hit.

3.30pm – Sooz Kempner in The Charles Bradlaugh

Another comedian we’ve seen several times before in Edinburgh and always enjoyed, Sooz Kempner’s Comedy Crate debut was in preparation for her Edinburgh show this year, Imposter, at Hoots @ Nicolson Square from 15 – 23 August. Sooz Kempner always loves a creative mix of stand-up and media projection, with some singing cropping up for balance, and this is shaping up to be a terrific show which brings together many different threads and ties them up into a very satisfying whole. She’s a wizard with the callbacks (visual as well as verbal) and included in the package is some beautifully unexpected Streisand, a Princess Diana calendar, and how writing jokes for Eurovision could have turned out better. At the heart of the show is her Imposter syndrome, made more acute by a health issue, and – let’s face it – no one wants to turn into Julie Andrews. She was absolutely on fire and the audience loved her. Not much more preparation needed and this will be a knock-out show in Edinburgh.

5pm – Sara Barron in The Black Prince

Unlike the other performers we saw, Sara Barron is neither working towards an Edinburgh show, nor a tour, but just formulating some new material for use at some point in the distant future. So, there was very little in the way of polished material in her set; instead, we were there to help her work out whether any of the vague ideas swirling around her head might be funny. Fortunately, Sara Barron is not just a naturally funny person, she’s a naturally hilarious person who puts me in mind of a less showbizzy version of Joan Rivers, who wisecracks effortlessly with the audience. It’s fascinating to watch the process of material coming together, and whilst there were some ideas that have legs and some that don’t, that’s what it’s all about. Even so, the hour flew by and everyone had a good laugh; and you can’t say fairer than that.

7pm – Glenn Moore in The Charles Bradlaugh

Another favourite comedian, Glenn Moore does have an Edinburgh run coming up, but it’s a work-in-progress show at Monkey Barrel Comedy from 3 – 16 August, before going on a national tour afterwards. Glenn Moore cuts an imposing figure on stage; I always think he looks like a super intelligent chief executive, which has to be a compliment. He takes a scattergun approach to his work in progress, with no obvious connection between any of his comic ideas, and he is brutal in rejecting anything that he doesn’t feel gets a loud enough laugh – even though you can tell he’s dismissing some pretty good material. Nine out of ten jokes were brilliant – high standards have clearly got him where he is today. Always reliable for top quality, well thought-through observations, this is obviously going to be another winning combination when he’s satisfied that he’s got it as perfect as possible!

8.30pm – Rhys James in The Charles Bradlaugh

New to us, but with a good reputation, our final act of the day was Rhys James, whose Chop Logic show will be at the Pleasance Courtyard in Edinburgh from 17 – 30 August.  I guess this was a work in progress in preparation for that run, but the act is pretty much immaculate all the way through and certainly Fringe-ready. A remarkable find, Rhys appeals to young and old because his material is always fresh, creative and incredibly funny. I loved his inventive material about how we should all emulate the Turkish economy, how he’s branching out with his painting hobby, the perils of transporting a poo sample, and a delicious way of teasing pensioners. Polished, confident, and constantly rip-roaringly funny, he’s the real deal and no mistake. A fantastic end to the day.

There are several more Edinburgh preview shows in the offing with the Comedy Crate, and of course Part Two of their weekend All Dayer in July. Can’t wait!

Review – Magic, Chichester Festival Theatre, 9th May 2026

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David Haig’s new play concerns the perhaps unlikely but definitely true story of the friendship and association between the brains behind Sherlock Holmes, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, and showman and trickster extraordinaire, Harry Houdini. Conan Doyle wasn’t a brilliant escapologist, and Houdini couldn’t write a detective story for toffee, but they did have a shared interest in the world of Spiritualism.

Having lost his son Kingsley shortly after the end of the First World War, Conan Doyle spent the subsequent years desperately believing that he could stay in contact with him through the services of a medium – the renowned Mina Crandon. Houdini, who knew everything about creating illusion, desperately wanted to believe in Spiritualism and would have loved for seances to be true; but he was always able to disprove them. It’s the balance between Conan Doyle, the ultimate believer, and Houdini, the ultimate deceiver, that’s at the heart of the play.

There’s undoubtedly a good story to be told here, but sadly Magic isn’t it. It has a strangely empty feel, as though it knows it doesn’t have much to tell us, and to compensate, what it does tell us is delivered at a snail’s pace. The production allows itself to be sidetracked by enormous amounts of padding, varying from unnecessary musical interludes, Houdini doing a few tricks, and the slowest scene changes this side of the A27. There’s only one scene which contains any drama or tension – which is where Houdini exposes Mina Crandon (an excellently vitriolic Jade Williams) as a fraud, leaving Conan Doyle devastated as he realises he has been tricked. Whilst the characterisations are thoroughly believable, and the acting is first rate, the play and staging are so heavy going and ponderous that they drag the story down with it. And whilst Haig has a nice understanding of the warp and weft of conversation, the text feels like it would be better read than acted.

The music-hall setting unbalances the show by presenting it wholly from the perspective of Houdini’s world, with nothing at all from the Conan Doyle world; and whilst the members of the musical ensemble perform well, they simply distract from the main thrust of the play. In fact, this would be far better as a four or five-hander (the Conan Doyles, the Houdinis and Mina) in a more intimate setting and with greater intensity of dialogue.

David Haig plays Conan Doyle with Edwardian dignity and propriety, and a gentle sense of humour. He embodies respectability in contrast with Hadley Fraser’s Houdini, who accentuates the brash American-ness and essential shallowness of his profession. This difference continues with the enjoyably contrasting Claire Price as the very correct but repressed Jean Conan Doyle and Jenna Augen as the friendly and content Bess Houdini. There’s a brief scene where Bess reveals how Jean turned away from musical performance herself in order to be the literary wife, and we get a glimpse of the sacrifices Jean has made for the greater good – there’s an intriguing dynamic here which is annoyingly just left dangling.

Whilst the play does attempt to explore the lengths to which one can go to come to terms with grief and loss, it never truly fulfils its potential, and the distracting and cumbersome production doesn’t help.

3-starsThree-sy Does It!

Review – The Seagull, Chichester Festival Theatre, 13th November 2025

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The Seagull premiered at the Alexandrinsky Theatre, St Petersburg, in 1896. This isn’t the Alexandrinksy, but it is St Petersburg!

If you were to imagine the plays of Chekhov arranged on a seesaw (bear with me on this idea), his early offerings like Platonov and Ivanov would be high in the air on one side of the seesaw and his meaty humdingers like Three Sisters and The Cherry Orchard would be firmly rooted to the ground on the other. The Seagull would be hovering over the fulcrum in the centre, bursting with Chekhov’s teeming ideas and themes, but never quite playing them out to their maximum effect.

I’m glad to get that iffy metaphor out of the way. The Royal Lyceum Edinburgh production of The Seagull enjoyed a brief extension at the Chichester Festival Theatre last week and marked not only new Artistic Director James Brining’s first show for the Lyceum but it has also been hinted that it will have been Caroline Quentin’s swansong in live theatre (which would if true, officially, be a travesty). In his programme note, adaptor Mike Poulton emphasises that he hasn’t attempted to modernise Chekhov to make him in some way more relevant today, because Chekhov is naturally eternally relevant; and when I read that before the show started, it was music to my ears.

That said, this production took traditional to its extremes. It was the very essence of reverence; yes, it allowed Chekhov’s text to do all the talking, but it came across as surprisingly bland. There was very little change of pace; the big dramatic moments (of which there aren’t many) were softly delivered, and both the comedy and the tragedy of the play were dialled down. The central character, the fading but still vain actor Arkadina, has the potential to horrify the audience with her insensitivity but still make you laugh with her asides; the main tragic character, her son Konstantin, ought to move the audience to tears with his mental torture, so that his final act comes as an awful culmination of his misery. But the production was neither funny enough to make you laugh much, nor tragic enough to make you cry. Overall, it just wasn’t enough.

There were, nevertheless, a number of successful aspects to the show. You really gained a sense of what it might have been like to live in the middle of the Russian nowhere in the 1890s, with decent people scraping a living whilst decadent others showed no empathy. It offered a substantial atmosphere of hopelessness; the disparate elements of a non-cohesive community where the only thing you could enjoy was the sunny weather, which would eventually turn into your enemy when winter came. Colin Richmond’s set judged that faded glory perfectly, with its tall windows and encroaching fields, suggesting that the natural environment would soon overtake the increasingly dismal dacha as it falls into decline; a lovely allegory of the last days of the Tsars.

Are these seagulls? Whatever, there are a lot of them.

Caroline Quentin’s Arkadina was the picture of haughtiness, full of a pretence of caring whilst scarcely hiding her selfish soul. She gave the character an urban sophistication to contrast with the rural backwater and portrayed her as a genuine person rather than an any kind of caricature. The humour that is an essential part of Arkadina never quite came to the fore, but it was a very believable performance. Harmony Rose-Bremner was excellent as Nina, unassuming but ambitious, looking to improve herself and gain favour wherever possible. She made a good partnership with Lorn Macdonald’s Konstantin, trying to perform his pretentious play to the best of her ability; Mr Macdonald portrayed Konstantin as a weak and ineffectual aesthete, trying to find his artistic voice – but perhaps not trying that hard. Unfortunately, the final scene between the two where Nina explains why she went off with Arkadina’s lover Trigorin, and Konstantin’s beseeching that she stays with him, came across as very static and monotonous, creating a conversation that ends very much with a whimper rather than a bang.

Elsewhere, Steven McNicoll made the best of his opportunities as the estate manager Shamrayev, bringing in some welcome humorous petulance when refusing to budge over providing horses for the carriage; Tallulah Greive was a splendidly belligerent Masha, Forbes Masson gave a wistful, but distant, performance as Dorn, Michael Dylan’s Medvendenko was suitably hard-working but under-achieving, and Dyfan Dwyfor a convincing, if perhaps over-likeable Trigorin.

Art versus reality, eloquence versus an inability to communicate, fresh ambition versus the reality of failure. Chekhov’s ideas are all there, but they felt particularly sub-surface in this production rather than given their full potential. All very respectful and all very safe; it was good, but you can’t help but feel that with that cast it should have been better.

3-starsThree-sy Does It!

Review – Emma, Festival Theatre, Chichester, 6th November 2025

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I confess, gentle reader, that I’ve never read Jane Austen’s Emma, but I sense that’s probably an advantage for anyone who sees this Theatre Royal Bath touring production of Ryan Craig’s adaptation of Austen’s 1815 novel. Dramatising a book always means having to make massive cuts to the original, otherwise you’d never be able to fit it into two and a half hours including an interval. But an Emma fan might well have firm ideas as to what to keep and what to boot out.

Jane Austen is very much in vogue at the moment – indeed, was she ever out of it? With the recent joyous production of Pride and Prejudice* (*Sort Of) and Laura Wade’s affectionate upending of the Austen landscape in The Watsons, she’s a target for modernisation and mickey-taking, whilst still admiring and relishing the essence of the original. I expected this adaptation to be much more surreal or meta; but, in fact, it’s a pretty straightforward production that tells Austen’s story (as far as I can make out) reasonably honestly and with a charming lightness of touch that brings all the relevant aspects of the nineteenth century into the present day.

Emma is a meddling, big-headed and insensitive young woman who knows her own mind and doesn’t know when to back down. She plucks a poor orphan girl, Harriet Smith, from obscurity and tries to make her fit for society, with no empathy for Harriet’s wishes or the honest farmer with whom she has been romantically linked. Instead, she sets her up with the local clergyman Mr Elton, who completely gets the wrong end of the stick and thinks that Emma has romantic ideas for herself on him, rather than trying to cultivate a romance between him and Harriet.

The first Act is very much a comedy of errors; but by the start of the second Act Elton has quickly married the snobbish Augusta, shattering Harriet’s expectations. Local gent Mr Knightley is sorry for Harriet and dances with her at a ball – which instantly convinces Harriet that they are both madly in love with each other; further disappointments ensue. Add to this mix Emma’s Achilles heel – the long-admired Mr Churchill, her rival in love Miss Fairfax, her bumbling old father and some heavy home truths from Knightley, and you have a recipe for a veritable West Country Coronation Street of tussles, resentments and misunderstandings.

Stephen Unwin’s production is slick and smart, with an emphasis on the comedy which can divert you from the fact that, deep down, Emma is a truly nasty piece of work, with a malicious streak revealing that she doesn’t give two hoots about anyone’s happiness or wellbeing. Her relish, for example, at the prospect of watching the admittedly dreadful Mrs Elton eating a strawberry (to which she allergic) is downright cruel. Any other character insights are pretty much ignored, as it’s all done for fun, and everything turns out all right in the end.

Ceci Calf’s set design is as blank and simple as you can imagine, inviting a silent running joke about the endless times that Mr Woodhouse’s chair and side table are diligently and knowingly brought on and off the stage. Her costume design is traditional and functional, all very respectable and nothing too showy except for the extravagant costume of the tastelessly imperious Augusta.

The cast all capture the spirit of the show very well, with a strong and credible central performance by India Shaw-Smith as Emma, bristling with confidence and the certainty that she is the most important person in the universe. In her professional debut, Maiya Louise Thapar gives us an affectionately unworldly Harriet, trapped by Emma’s plans and convincingly disturbed when all her prospects turn to dust.

William Chubb gives a scene-stealing performance as Woodhouse, curmudgeonly but not irredeemably so, knowing when to escape for the good of his senses. Ed Sayer gives a charismatic performance as Knightley, dishing out the criticisms much to Emma’s annoyance; Oscar Batterham is excellent as the hopeful Elton, only to be replaced by a more world-weary version after his marriage, and Rose Quentin is superb as the ghastly Augusta, point-scoring wherever she can, and never satisfied even when she has the best of everything.

The production never really soars into either the blissfully funny or revelatory character examination, but it bubbles along jovially in a sequence of amusing scenes and does exactly what it says on the tin. Did it make me want to read the book? Not really. But it was an entertaining way to spend a Thursday evening in Chichester!

 

3-starsThree-sy Does It!

Review – Top Hat, Festival Theatre, Chichester, 18th July 2025

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The big summer musical at the Chichester Festival Theatre is always a matter of great expectations. You can rely on an impressive production with no expense spared, and pretty much a full house for every performance. This year’s production, Irving Berlin’s Top Hat, has much to live up to – will it follow in the footsteps of last year’s outstanding Oliver! or other big hitters like Half a Sixpence, Crazy for You, South Pacific, Fiddler on the Roof, Oklahoma! – it’s a list of enviable quality.

I don’t have to tell you, gentle reader, that Top Hat is that hugely successful movie musical from 1935 starring Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers – ninety years old now and still holding a prominent place in the history of cinema and entertainment. Matthew White and Howard Jacques’ stage musical first appeared in 2011 and is a largely faithful adaptation of the original film. It’s not at all surprising that it’s considered worthy of a revival – after all, how can you miss with songs like Puttin’ on the Ritz, Cheek to Cheek, Top Hat White Tie and Tails and Let’s Face the Music and Dance.

To say it’s a simple plot is something of an insult to the notion of simplicity. American dancer Jerry Travers comes to London to appear in a show and meets – and annoys – Dale Tremont. He falls head over heels in love; she doesn’t. A case of mistaken identity ensues, with Dale believing Jerry to be married to her friend Madge, whereas Madge is married to Horace, the producer of the show. Dale marries an Italian fashion designer in anger; but Jerry is ever persistent, and when Dale’s marriage proves to be invalid as it was conducted by Horace’s butler – I know, bear with me – it all ends happily ever after. Even the spurned Italian fashion designer is happy, as he is placated by being employed to create Dale’s wedding dress. I don’t think he was really in love in the first place, do you?

I should point out that the show we saw was a Friday night preview, the fifth (I believe) public performance of the run, and of course I take that into account when summarising my thoughts. However, no amount of rehearsals, performances, tweaks and so on can change the fact that the script is incredibly corny, with some of the lamest jokes you’ll hear for many a year. Overall, the show is extraordinarily dated, and in a tedious rather than charming way. Various elements of the plot include stalking, misogyny, making fun of foreigners, domestic violence, love bombing and a spot of sexual harassment. Gosh they had fun in the 30s.

As for the production itself, it scores high on the basics but low on the embellishments. Credit where it’s due: Peter McKintosh’s set is superb, beautifully recreating a deco style, with a glass arch that reminded me of the Musée d’Orsay and a revolving stage underneath that transforms into hotel rooms, reception desks, and other vital scenes in the plot. He and Yvonne Milnes also designed the costumes which are outstanding; elegant, and totally in keeping with the era. Stephen Ridley’s out of sight orchestra fills the Festival Theatre with glorious arrangements of Berlin’s timeless tunes.

Kathleen Marshall, who also directs the show, choreographs all these big numbers, and there is – understandably – an emphasis on tap, which hits you full force with amplified tap shoes, creating a hugely impressive audible avalanche of tapping. However, the choreography for the non-tap routines feels less inspired and rather generic; and indeed, one wonders why they hit those Spanish lines for a routine that is set in Italy. Curious.

It’s a very skilful and experienced cast, but somehow the whole thing doesn’t gel. Philip Attmore playing Jerry is a fantastic tap dancer and showman, and Lucy St Louis as Dale looks the part completely and has a great voice, but there is hardly any chemistry between them. Clive Carter as Horace and James Clyde as his butler Bates do everything that the script requires of them – which is primarily to make them look stupid, with Mr Carter ending up with a black eye and a lipsticked mouth, and Mr Clyde looking like a very world-weary gondolier.

Alex Gibson-Giorgio injects the necessary high camp into his performance as fashionista Bedini, and the audience adored his solo number Latins Know How, but I’m afraid I found it excruciatingly cringeworthy and had to watch through the gaps in my fingers. The always reliable Sally Ann Triplett as Madge is missing in the first Act and her appearance at the beginning of Act Two breathes fresh life into the show, but even she gets bogged down with some dubiously outdated comedy.

By the time we were well into the second Act I was both very bored, and not remotely interested in any of the characters’ plights or how they would end up. Having great expectations of a show often leads to disappointment and that’s certainly the case for this production. Despite its glitz and glamour, great music and accomplished performers, this did nothing for me at all. I’ve added a star to my rating in the hope that it will improve in time for Press Night.

3-starsThree-sy Does It!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

Two Disappointing For More!

Review – A Man For All Seasons, Festival Theatre, Chichester, 31st January 2025

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Our fascination with all things Henry VIII, Norfolk, Cromwell, More, Cranmer et al is seemingly unending. The Wolf Hall trilogy is not only a bestseller but has spawned a successful TV series and countless dining table conversations. But 65 years ago Robert Bolt’s A Man For All Seasons appeared on stage for the first time, enjoying long runs in the West End and on Broadway, and with star-studded film versions in both 1966 and 1988. And this continued fascination was certainly reflected by the lack of empty seats in Chichester’s Festival Theatre on Friday night, as well as the audience’s riveted attention being held throughout with pin-drop silence.

A Man For All Seasons approaches the Henry VIII – Catherine of Aragon divorce and resultant split with the Catholic Church from the angle of Sir Thomas More, the Lord Chancellor who refused to consent to the divorce; and whilst he never actively proclaimed his disapproval, that was never going to be enough to satisfy the King. More’s morals and principles set him on an impossible course, leading to his being found guilty of high treason and his ultimate execution.

This current touring production by the Theatre Royal Bath is strong, simple, clear and gimmick-free, directed with unobtrusive sensitivity by Jonathan Church. Simon Higlett’s traditional costumes and set lend it an air of gravitas and authority, and a high quality cast offer a masterclass in acting. One also appreciates what a tremendous wordsmith Robert Bolt is, with beautifully shaped and constructed sentences and scenes, wonderful characterisations, and a great feel for oncoming disaster. There’s no denying it – the first act is both dense and intense, requiring deep concentration from the audience as we start to see life closing in on More; and the second act gains incredible momentum as chit-chat becomes an unofficial inquiry, and then legal hearings and an eventual trial in court and dispensation of justice (such as it is.) You can always rely on a courtroom scene on stage to be thrilling!

Bolt’s structural brainwave with this play was to have the Common Man as a unifying thread throughout the whole story. Someone who can relate directly to the audience, commenting on the action and characters, who can assume a variety of minor but vital roles as the plot progresses; the Common Man is both one of us in the stalls and one of them on stage. Casting Gary Wilmot in this role is a masterstroke as he is both a genius in stagecraft but also truly has the common touch, and it comes as no surprise that he gives a tremendous performance.

Another fine actor, Edward Bennett, takes to the role of Thomas Cromwell like a duck to water, blending the character’s fastidious attention to detail with a ruthless sadism. He clearly relishes the task of taking down an enemy; but he also reveals that, with the unpredictability of the king, he has no choice but to win at all costs, otherwise no doubt his head will be for the chop too. Calum Finlay is excellent as Richard Rich, portraying the character’s journey from humble start to eventual glory by means of backstabbing and betrayal; Bolt paints him as ruthlessly ambitious at all costs, and Mr Finlay convinces us perfectly.

There’s excellent support from Abigail Cruttenden as More’s wife Alice, unable to understand why he adheres to his collision course to ruination, and from Annie Kingsnorth as his relentlessly positive daughter Margaret. Orlando James has a splendid cameo as Henry VIII, almost unhinged with his own power, and Asif Khan is a delightfully meddlesome and untrustworthy Ambassador Chapuys; but everyone turns in a great performance and there is not one weak or ineffectual scene.

Heading the cast is Martin Shaw as Thomas More, recently turned 80 years but still a powerhouse on stage, with an apparently effortless yet physically demanding performance capturing the character’s unswerving constancy and honest decency.He gives us an impeccable portrayal of a stiff upper lip, only just letting the emotions show in the final moments when he can hold them back no longer.

After its week in Chichester, the tour continues to Malvern, Cheltenham, Oxford, Guildford, Canterbury and Richmond. A powerful play given a fittingly powerful performance.

 

4-starsFour They’re Jolly Good Fellows!

Review – Redlands, Festival Theatre Chichester, 2nd October 2024

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“I f**king love the Witterings,” asserts Keith Richards from the dock, explaining why he bought a 15th century baronial manor house (with moat) – that’s the Redlands of the title – in the heart of leafy West Sussex, during his 1967 trial alongside Mick Jagger for drug-related offences at Chichester Crown Court. That little statement expresses perfectly the delightful class-based friction that gives this story a delicious edge. No better theatre then, nor indeed audience, for Charlotte Jones’ unusually structured but extremely entertaining play that brought the Rolling Stones under the gaze of the West Sussex Constabulary in a trial where the two stars were defended by one Michael Havers, QC, later Attorney-General and Lord Chancellor under Margaret Thatcher’s Prime Ministership.

In fact, this is virtually two plays, neatly dovetailed together, but possibly misleadingly if you’re expecting a play about Jagger and Richard. In fact, the most significant characters in the play are Michael Havers and his son, wannabe actor, Nigel Havers (yes, the Nigel Havers), and their fractious, distant relationship. It’s not that Havers Senior doesn’t like or value his son – although he finds it hard to accept that the latter doesn’t want to work in the law like everyone else in the family – it’s primarily that the QC is such a busy man, and so work-oriented, that he simply hasn’t the time to be interested in him. Mind you, Havers Senior shows himself to be a typical stuffed shirt when he refuses to allow young Nigel to attend the lunch table dressed in the Kings Road’s fashions of the day. It’s left for Michael’s father, Sir Cecil Havers (Bongo to his friends) to give Nigel moral support by going to Lord’s together, boosting his confidence and generally getting down with the kids – Bongo is nothing if not a barrel of laughs.

Secondary to the Havers dynasty, the play next concentrates on the effect of the Redlands court case on Marianne Faithfull, Jagger’s current flame, referred to as Miss X during the trial. She was present when the police made the drugs raid and felt that she was equally if not more responsible than Mick and Keith – but Havers refused to let her testify. Whilst Havers was able to lodge a successful appeal against the sentence that Jagger and Richard received, Faithfull laments that her name will never be cleared – and she does indeed come across as the person who loses the most in the whole story. As for Jagger and Richard – all publicity is good publicity, and they never looked back. Charlotte Jones sets the date of the sentencing appeal on the same day that young Nigel is to take his audition to study at RADA, intertwining both elements of the story into an emotional finale.

Ms Jones enjoys wringing every possible local connection out of the text, with news reporters describing the local community as largely decent, and Keith Richards describing the people surrounding him as old (at which point he gestures to the overwhelmingly geriatric Festival Theatregoers); she also gives her central character of Nigel Havers the role of narrator, talking directly to the audience throughout, acknowledging that he’s on the stage of the Festival Theatre – right here in Chichester – and he even points out the audience to his father at the end of the show, who’s astonished to discover that there’s been a thousand or so of us watching him from the very start. It’s a fun concept that doesn’t really hold water, but we play along with it because it’s very shapely and lends a nice surreal air to everything going on. To be frank, there’s not much verisimilitude in the production; after all, the Stones did not break from the court case to perform a rock number in front of the Judge with dancing police officers. But it is entertaining to see how a gifted barrister like Michael Havers could spin the facts in his questions to the police and Jagger and Richard (a.k.a. the boys) so that the former come across as conniving targeting entrappers and the latter as sweet-natured innocent lads.

Joanna Scotcher’s multi-level set reserves a largely empty space downstage for Havers’ home and office and the courtroom, and a curtained-off hidden upstage area for Stones performances and a dream sequence. It works, for the most part; perhaps it looks a little clumsy when characters who have nothing to do with the musical performances, like Havers’ office staff, enter the stage by revolving out from behind the half-raised curtain. Ryan Dawson Laight’s costumes are excellent, creating some very believable 60s fashions alongside the stiff and starchy legal types. I could really aspire to a pair of Keith Richards cuffs.

The performances are all superb; hats off to Louis Landau (Nigel Havers) and Jasper Talbot (Mick Jagger) on their stage debuts, both extremely convincing portrayals of the younger versions of people we all know and love. Mr Talbot’s on stage Jagger is pure entertainment and almost a snapshot of the original’s iconic performances. Anthony Calf does a first rate job as Michael Havers; authoritative, genial in a condescending sort of way, flustered by what he doesn’t understand – a strangely vulnerable large cog in a very traditional wheel.

Emer McDaid stands out as Marianne Faithfull; self-confident because of her upbringing but powerless against the might of the law. Her singing voice is very reminiscent of the early Faithfull, and her brief rendition (together with Mr Landau) of Ruby Tuesday brings a lump to your throat. There’s terrific support from Olivia Poulet as the increasingly assertive Carol Havers, brilliant attitude from Brenock O’Connor as Keith Richards, and a typically scene-stealing performance from Clive Francis bringing all the irrepressible fun out of the character of Bongo as he can muster; he’s got a tambourine, and he’s not afraid to use it.

This is an undoubtedly odd play; in some ways neither one thing nor the other. But the drama and music elements subtly combine to make a thoroughly entertaining whole, and you’ll be so tempted to take a diversion via West Wittering on the way home. A plea to Front of House: please make more of your requests before the show for everyone to turn off their mobiles. I’ve never heard so many phones going off during a performance before and it really killed the mood a few times.

4-starsFour They’re Jolly Good Fellows!