Tag Archives: London

Review – The Cabinet Minister, Menier Chocolate Factory, London, 27th October 2024

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Late to the party on this one! Sir Arthur Wing Pinero’s 1890 Court farce The Cabinet Minister has had new life breathed into it in Nancy Carroll’s jolly adaptation, currently packing them in at the Menier. I must confess, as old as I am, this was my first exposure to the works of Sir Arthur, who has been somewhat overlooked over the last fifty years or so; and this production has left me curious to discover more of his work – which can only be a good thing.

It’s always a delight to realise that a play from long ago still raises issues that are relevant today. The Cabinet Minister in question is Sir Julian Twombley, accused of accepting favours – can you imagine such a thing happening today (pause for ironic reflection)? Not only that, his wife and son are a pair of profligates who spend inordinate amounts of money on a sumptuous lifestyle that they can’t afford. Worse still, in their social circle, are a couple of working class people – Fanny and Bernard Lacklustre – who are doing really well for themselves. You know the type – all cash and no taste. Regrettably there are outstanding bills payable to them that the Twombleys have no hope of paying. However, these dreadful people will let the bills go unpaid if Lady Twombly allows them full access to upper class salons and a private indication from Sir Julian as to whether the Rajputana Canal will be built. Successful insider trading will make the smarmy Lacklustre a fortune.

Corruption, debt, class; they’re all there, just as they are today. So it doesn’t take a lot of fine tuning to present this play to a modern-day audience; just a little clipping, reshaping and re-naming, and the removal of a few less savoury observations of the day. The script has been tightened up a little, with some cheeky wordplay (fiddle and flaps come to mind). The biggest innovation in this production is the use of instruments on stage; a natural progression from the original, where Sir Julian plays the flute to calm his nerves. In Paul Foster’s production, Sir Julian’s woodwind is but one element of a full musical motif that dots in and out of the show.

Janet Bird’s engaging set presents the Twombleys’ elegant conservatory in Act One and transforms itself to the spacious hall of Drumdurris Castle in Act Two; a transformation that requires many backstage staff working flat out during the twenty minute interval. The costume design is first rate and absolutely in keeping with the 1890s, so the whole production is a feast for the eyes.

Nancy Carroll shines as Lady Twombley, the perfect glamorous hostess, despising what she has to endure with the commoners whilst deeply supportive and affectionate for her family members. Nicholas Rowe is an upstanding Sir Julian, Sara Crowe an enjoyable meddlesome Dora, and Phoebe Fildes and Laurence Ubong Williams terrific as the despicable Lacklustres. Dillie Keane and Matthew Woodyatt form a very funny double act as the mother and son Macphails; completely over the top, but the show demands it. There’s also excellent support from Joe Edgar as posh boy Brooke, George Blagden as his globetrotting cousin Valentine, and Rosalind Ford as the spoilt but endearing Imogen.

In the end, Pinero plays it safe and doesn’t disturb the status quo – the upper class win the day and the commoners are sent packing. Whilst The Cabinet Minister never ascends to a level of riotous belly-laugh inducing comedy, it is constantly entertaining and thoroughly well done. There’s an irony in that Pinero’s Court farces of the 1880s and 90s were so called because they were staged at the Court theatre, now better known as the Royal Court; home in the 1950s and 60s to the works of the angry young men of the time, who would have despised Pinero’s output.

But there’s always room for a well-made play, and I note with interest that the original production of The Cabinet Minister included one Brandon Thomas in the cast playing Macphail, only two years before he also appeared in his own, hugely successful, new play, Charley’s Aunt, at the Royalty Theatre. A good Victorian play should never go away, and I for one am pleased to see Pinero back in town.

4-starsFour They’re Jolly Good Fellows!

Review – Waiting for Godot, Theatre Royal Haymarket, London, 25th September 2024

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From today’s viewpoint, it’s hard to imagine the effect of Beckett’s Waiting for Godot on its original 1953 French audience. On those opening performances, many people left at the interval, or jeered it for its nonsense; one evening the audience broke into a fight as those who hated it clashed with those who defended it. And of course the scandal of this outrageous play just made it more attractive to those curious to see what all the fuss was about.

Its 1955 London premiere was equally divisive, with the likes of Harold Hobson and Kenneth Tynan understanding its value whilst all the other critics dismissed it. Seventy years on, the play still has the power to divide and befuddle; a) because on the face of it, it’s  incomprehensible nonsense and b) because it demands that you read interpretations into it that may not necessarily be there. Is Godot God? Beckett said that if he’d meant Godot to represent God, he’d have called him God. When Ralph Richardson asked Beckett to give him a little more about Pozzo’s back story, he replied that everything he knew about Pozzo was in the text – if he’d known more, he’d have written more. Beckett insists that you appreciate the play as he has written it – no need to imbue it with other meanings.

What really offended the theatregoers of the time – in my humble opinion – was the in-your-face recognition of human frailty and disgusting bodily functions. Whilst the works of Coward and Rattigan, for example, may well have dealt with mental frailty, anything lavatorial or for Doctor’s ears only was kept well away from their sensibilities. Beckett’s characters are not so coy. One with stinking feet, one with stinking breath; one with a constant need to urinate, one happy to eat chicken bones off the floor. Fortunately for those easily offended 1950s theatregoers, the censor removed Vladimir’s reference to an erection, and Mrs Gozzo’s suffering from clap was replaced by warts, bless her.

In a nutshell: two men wait by a tree – they’re waiting for Godot. Two other men appear, one controlled by the other by means of rope; after some debate, they depart. At the end of the evening, a boy arrives to tell them that Godot won’t come today, but surely he will tomorrow. Then there’s the interval. And then it all happens again. It sounds like the epitome of stasis, but a lot happens between the two Acts. Overnight, Estragon has been beaten up. The tree has sprouted leaves. Pozzo and Lucky enter the stage from the opposite direction, and Lucky’s rope is shorter. Pozzo has gone blind. Estragon’s boots have moved. Is this progress?

Beckett doesn’t give a stage designer much to go on, but Rae Smith’s set is fantastic. An off-white lunar landscape, full of rises and falls, the kind of rock formation a child would love to clamber over. Starkly, the tree of the same colour stands out. As each Act begins, the set revolves around, just slightly, into place, giving the impression of a Groundhog Day-type time and space reset. Bruno Poet’s lighting design briefly transforms this white barren landscape with a lush warm glow signifying the sunset.

There was much pre-production excitement about the pairing of Lucian Msamati and Ben Whishaw as Estragon and Vladimir, and the expectation that they would be devastatingly good. They do indeed make a very convincing couple of Godot devotees. Mr Msamati’s Gogo is a weary, pain-riddled, sleepy chap who appears to be slow on the uptake. He has a perfect expression for his character; showing little emotion he constantly seems to be processing information in an attempt to understand what’s going on.Mr Whishaw’s Didi, on the other hand, is probing and questioning, tries to take the initiative whenever it’s possible; he’s the alpha male of the two, and leads the conversations with Pozzo and the boy. But the two men are inter-reliant, supporting and irritating each other; lonely when the other is not there, and simply finding ways to pass the time. They execute the famous hat swapping sequence perfectly, in a scene that brings the characters closest to a sense of clowning, but also suggests they’re dissatisfied with their identities. Alternatively, it might just simply be a game to while away a few minutes.

Jonathan Slinger’s Pozzo irradiates (in the first Act at least) wealthy superiority, looking down his nose at everyone and everything, cracking open a bottle of wine as if settling down for a self-indulgent picnic, barely acknowledging his slave Lucky, played with all Tom Edden’s legendary physical comedy – except that it’s not played for laughs. There’s nothing Mr Edden can’t do on stage that calls for some physicality in extremis, and he makes just about as much sense out of Lucky’s long speech that it is possible to do.

It’s fascinating to watch a superb production of this highly significant play. The intensity of the conversations between the two main characters are very demanding on the audience, and you need to concentrate very hard if you want to make some kind of sense out of what’s going on. As a result, at the end of the show and even more so at the beginning of the interval, the audience is stunned into some kind of muted silence. There’s no excited buzz between theatregoers about how much they’re enjoying it (or indeed hating it) – it simply takes all one’s energy away. But it doesn’t leave you empty or feeling short-changed; quite the opposite, in fact. It remains a most remarkable play, and this is a very fine production.

Five Alive, Let Theatre Thrive!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

4-starsFour They’re Jolly Good Fellows!

Review – Till The Stars Come Down, National Theatre Dorfman Theatre, London, 15th February 2024

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Sylvia and Marek are getting married – and we’re invited to the wedding. The morning is the usual race against time for all the women to get their hair done, check their outfits, and maybe even start on a few early cheeky glasses of something sparkly. It’s a great opportunity for a family reunion for Sylvia and her sisters Hazel and Maggie, especially as Maggie left the area suddenly a few months ago. They’re still missing their mum – none more so than their dad Tony. Marek, Sylv’s intended, is of course Polish, but they’re fine with that; after all, Brexit is a thing of the past now. Isn’t it?

But old sins cast long shadows, they say; and in these ex-mining communities people still remember the wrongs done by not only the Thatcher government of the 1980s but the scabs who undermined the strike. Fortunately, it’s a happy occasion! What could possibly go wrong at a family wedding? As you’ve probably guessed, gentle reader, quite a lot. Passions run high, old enmities are exposed, prejudices are teased out, and it can only take one little misjudged event to push a whole family over the edge. When someone takes it on themselves to deal out summary justice, it becomes a no-turning-back moment for everyone.

Beth Steel has written earlier plays based on East Midlands communities – she is from Nottingham originally – and as my own hometown of Northampton just counts as East Midlands too, Till The Stars Come Down was strangely calling my name. Unexpectedly classical in structure, the play – largely – observes the unities of the French tragedians, by all taking place on one day, having basically one action (the wedding) and occurring in one place (you could argue that isn’t quite the case here.)

Ms Steel’s writing exquisitely fills in the details of these larger than life characters, as truths, lies and everything in between emerge over the course of two and a half hours. She has a knack of giving a character a simple, seemingly innocent line that instantly makes us realise a whole new side to someone that we thought we already knew. The play is bound by a gritty realism that does not hold back from showing us the tougher elements of life; and the characters’ irrepressible strength and resourcefulness comes out in some genuinely and unexpectedly hilarious scenes and conversations. For me, the only times the play doesn’t quite succeed is when it drifts away from realism, such as the scene (cleverly staged though it may be) when some of the characters represent the planets and stars revolving around each other.

Bijan Sheibani’s production is beautifully and simply staged on set designer Samal Blak’s big green block of astroturf, with minimal props or scenery apart from a few tables and an electric fan. It’s a great example of how effective it can be to suggest a scene with just the basics, allowing our imaginations to work harder. Paule Constable’s lighting design constantly astonishes with its surprise effects – you’ve never seen a glitter ball make such an impact.

The cast are uniformly excellent and work together to create a true sense of ensemble. There isn’t one role, nor one performer, who dominates the proceedings; the play is written so that every single character is, at some point of the procedure, the most important person there. Lorraine Ashbourne is great fun as the bossy Aunty Carol, picking fights over the seating arrangements, the embodiment of living life to the full, no matter the consequences. Lucy Black’s Hazel is a seething mass of anxieties and heartbreaks that are never far from the surface, and Lisa McGrillis’ Maggie is a study of someone trying to come to terms with both the past and the present whilst still giving off confident vibes. Sinead Matthews presents Sylvia as an optimistic fiancée and happy newlywed who only wants the best for herself and Marek.

Alan Williams’ Tony is a man brought down by the experiences of a lifetime yet carries on undefeated; Derek Riddell’s John also puts on a brave face despite his internal torments; and Philip Whitchurch’s Pete does his best to water down Carol’s excesses whilst refusing to give way to his principles of the past. Marc Wootton’s Marek is a contented self-made man who can neither understand nor forgive the barely concealed racism that he faces. There’s excellent support from Ruby Stokes’ Leanne, trying to make sense of the family issues as she understands them, and, in the performance we saw, Bodhi Rae Breathnach was excellent as the young Sarah, a child in an adults’ world, mixing playtime with the horrors of reality.

Superb performances in a highly entertaining and frequently shocking play. The final scene is so full of almost uncontrollable emotion between the three sisters that, as the lights came up to signify the end of the show, the actors were all mouthing to each other you okay hun as part of their return to the real world, before they could turn to the audience to take the applause. Remind me to resist the temptation to attend any more weddings. Till The Stars Come Down continues at the Dorfman until 16th March.

4-starsFour They’re Jolly Good Fellows!

Review – Plaza Suite, Savoy Theatre, London, 15th February 2024

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Let me tell you a secret, gentle reader: I’ve never seen an episode of Sex and the City. Nor The First Wives Club, Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, or any of the shows that the programme credits to Sarah Jessica Parker and Matthew Broderick. I tell a lie: we did see the film of Manchester By The Sea, in which Mr Broderick took a relatively minor role. We hated it. We were also probably the only people in the Thursday matinee at the Savoy who knew nothing about its two stars. That’s not to say I hadn’t heard of them – of course I had. We don’t live in a vacuum. And I knew that their presence would cause a frisson of excitement among the West End ticket bookers.

However, believe it or not, my prime motivation for going was to see Plaza Suite on stage. The original Neil Simon play ran for over a thousand performances on Broadway and spawned the successful film adaptation starring Walter Matthau. As one of the Dowager Mrs Chrisparkle’s favourite films, I was brought up with the curmudgeonly Mr Matthau losing his rag with his daughter Mimsey, and I was very keen to see how the original stage show worked.

It’s a three act play with a difference; the only connection between the acts is that they all take place in Suite 719 in New York’s famous Plaza Hotel. Act One, Visitor From Mamaroneck, tells the tale of the crumbling marriage of Sam and Karen Nash; the longest of the three acts, it sets an unavoidably downbeat tone despite its savage comedy, due to the genuine sadness of the material. Act Two, Visitor from Hollywood, sees the reunion of teenage sweethearts Jesse Kiplinger (now a superstar movie director) and Muriel Tate (a dissatisfied housewife and mother of three). Act Three, Visitor from Forest Hills, takes place on the (very expensive) wedding day of Roy and Norma Hubley’s daughter Mimsey to Borden Eisler, and the farcical exploits that ensue when last minute nerves cause her to lock herself in the bathroom. As with the film, the first two playlets really serve as warm-up acts for the main event of the final scene. But there are few comic playwrights in the 20th century who were as gifted as Neil Simon, and you can tell his mastery of his art throughout the whole show.

Of course, the three couples at the centre of each of the acts are the driving force behind each story, along with a few peripheral characters. But the main other character of the show is the Plaza hotel itself, brought beautifully to life in John Lee Beatty’s elegant set. It’s the kind of traditional hotel suite that you always hope you’ll get when you check in to a hotel but never do. Exquisite taste, luxury fabrics and fittings – exactly what you’d expect from the Plaza – and indeed the Savoy.

So, what of the megastar couple who are commanding such full audiences and such high ticket prices? Sarah Jessica Parker gives great performances throughout. Immensely watchable, she tugs on your heartstrings in the first play where she is so completely maltreated by her b**tard of a husband – to the extent that there were frequent gasps of amazement and shock throughout the audience by Sex and the City fans disgusted that anyone could treat their heroine this way. There’s a lot more comedy for her to get her teeth into in acts two and three, and she gets the balance right between going for the big laughs whilst still showing us her characters’ vulnerabilities.

Matthew Broderick, however, presents us with a very different stage presence. Whereas Ms Parker is chock-full of charisma in all her roles, Mr Broderick feels less comfortable. Whether or not he was feeling a little under the weather I don’t know – he had to suppress a few coughs throughout the show – but he seemed especially tentative in Act One. To be fair, the character of Sam Nash doesn’t exude much in the way of star quality, being a stock kind of businessman who appears to be a slave to his work with no joy in his life. But I was surprised at how little spark was there. He was much more at home in Act Two, as the Austin Powers lookalike Jesse Kiplinger, doing his best to seduce Muriel, and engaging in some hilarious, but never explained, physical comedy of slipping and sliding in his Gucci shoes; and in Act Three as the exasperated husband and father enduring all kinds of humiliations in an attempt to coerce his daughter out of the john.

It’s a very entertaining production though, and if you want to see Ms Parker and Mr Broderick in the flesh, I’m sure you won’t be disappointed. The run has already been extended by two weeks and continues at the Savoy until 13th April.

 

4-starsFour They’re Jolly Good Fellows!

P. S.  So what about those high ticket prices then? £395 for the top price – although, as a package deal, that does include champagne and whatnot. I bought our tickets the day they went on sale – Row J of the Stalls for £125 each. Great seats and a superb view. Buy those seats today and they’ll probably cost £200 each. That’s a £150 saving per couple on planning your theatre trips in advance.

Review – Peter Pan, London Palladium, 29th December 2023

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Ah, the Palladium pantomime. One of the highlights of the year. An event steeped in nostalgia and ritual, on as well as the expectation of a great night out of laughter and fun. My first Palladium panto was in 1969 with Jimmy Tarbuck in Jack and the Beanstalk; and although I grew out of the routine as the teenage years drew on,I couldn’t wait to get back into the habit when the Palladium pantomimes started up again in 2016. I always target the same seats if possible; I always treat Mrs Chrisparkle to a bottle of the old Taittinger; and of course I always take out a second mortgage to pay for a programme. A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do.

This year Crossroads Pantomimes, under the esteemed leadership of writer and director Michael Harrison, brings us Peter Pan; with the Palladium panto’s uniquely eclectic slant on J M Barrie’s timeless original. To be fair, we do have three Darling children (and one of them does indeed look like Jacob Rees-Mogg).We do have Nana the dog, Tink the fairy and, of course, Peter Pan the boy who never grew up. And we do have Captain Hook and a crocodile; although it’s never explained why the former is so scared about the latter. There’s a host of vagabond pirates, although I can’t imagine Barrie would have envisaged the likes of Julian Clary, Nigel Havers and Paul Zerdin as bloodthirsty cut-throats. Nor did he immortalise Captain Hook’s mum. I guess that’s panto for you. Oh yes it is!

This year they’ve rewritten the definition of lavish. For sheer levels of costuming, sets, colour and wow factor, this show takes the roof off. Everything looks and sounds stunning; in modern parlance, every scene identifies as a finale. The costumes for the curtain call alone would probably have broken the budget for lesser shows. Greg Arrowsmith leads a sizeable band of merry music makers through many a high energy number,and there are all the usual elements you would expect, from Gary Wilmot’s patter song, the slapstick routine (this time, A Sailor went to Sea sea sea), Paul Zerdin singing with kids from the audience Three Smart Fellas they felt smart, and the ritual humiliation of Nigel Havers. It all works swimmingly well.

As always, the star of the show is Julian Clary, but he naturally takes second billing to the year’s guest star, who this year is Jennifer Saunders as Captain Hook and what a knock out she is. I feared she might just phone it in, like another big star we once saw at the Richmond panto, no names no pack drill, but no. She was gloriously malevolent right from the startand sent herself up something rotten. When she disguises herself in order to trick Peter Pan and the children, it’s a stroke of genius that she turns into Edina from Absolutely Fabulous, littering her speech with all the insincere sweetie darlings you could possibly imagine, and, frankly, it’s hysterical.

Also returning from their big hit as last year’s cow in Jack and the Beanstalk, Rob Madge is perfect as Tink (they’ve dropped the erbell because who needs it), hugely possessive of Peter Pan because they’re head over heels in love with him, thus bringing Tink’s mischievous jealousy of Wendy sharply into 21st century focus. Rob Madge is fantastic at the song and dance, and I hope the powers that be continue to bring them back year after year.Zippo Circus’ Timbuktu Tumblers make an appearance with some fun acrobatics and prove that the limbo dance is still a thing. Frances Mayli McCann rises to the challenge of playing up her Scottishness to create a Gorbals Wendy, mainly so that Mr Clary can act as a translator for the audience. She and Louis Gaunt make a good partnership as Wendy and Peter, musically strong and doing their best to cling on to the wreckage of their characterisations in the face of a Clary-style onslaught.

And, of course, Julian Clary is terrific in this show, as he inevitably is; the raconteur of multiple entendres not just double ones, model of extraordinary outfits, barely ever in character, ruling the roost supreme. He pays tribute to his late friend and colleague Paul O’Grady that is entirely appropriate and never mawkish. No opportunity is missed for him to shower us with salacious comments, and he always gets a warm hand on his entrance.

Peter Pan is a classic Palladium panto, triumphant from the word Go. Why you’d take the kids with you though, I haven’t a clue. Dazzling us until 14th January, and we’re already being lured into the prospect of a 2024 panto in December. Can’t wait!

Five Alive, Let Theatre Thrive!

Review – The Enfield Haunting, Ambassadors Theatre, London, 28th December 2023

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Sometimes, gentle reader, a theatre review will virtually write itself. You sit down at the computer and start tapping away and all your thoughts and insights come spilling out and within ten minutes you’ve filled the equivalent of a sheet of foolscap (yes, I am that old.) And on other occasions, you stare blankly at the screen, then blankly at the programme, then blankly at the hurried notes you made as you walked out of the theatre and think to yourself, Jeez where the hell do I start?! And writing about The Enfield Haunting is such an occasion.

No one, apart from Zero Mostel and Gene Wilder in The Producers, sets about creating a lousy show. In The Enfield Haunting, the component parts are all there. An extraordinary supernatural thriller, based on the real life events of a house in Enfield in the late 1970s where there were reports of unexplained poltergeist activity. Reliable witnesses reported seeing furniture being chucked around, levitations, grisly voices, thrown toys, knocking on walls; all the elements you’d look for in a decent scary paranormal show. There’s a cast led by two stars, Catherine Tate and David Threlfall, both great for Box Office. The creative team boasts experienced set and costume designer and directors, and award-winning lighting and sound designers. When I first heard that this production was going to hit the West End, I was at the front of the queue flourishing my credit card.

But then came the word of mouth from its opening try-outs in Brighton and Richmond in November; almost universal in its criticism of unmitigated boredom, confusion, pointlessness and terrible performances. Surely some mistake? Its original press performance, scheduled for 6th December, was put back to 10th January. Its running time has been cut from an original 1 hour 50 minutes, then to 1 hour 40 minutes; the programme states it will last 90 minutes, but the production we saw lasted 75 minutes. There’s clearly been a lot of slicing out of material – in fact, there are some characters listed under Cast in the programme who do not appear in the play, unless I nodded off during their spot. Nevertheless, I have no doubt that it is improved for being shortened; I’d much rather spend 75 minutes getting nowhere than 110.

This was the second time we’d seen a play in 2023 that showed much promise in the adverts but really wasn’t ready for public viewing by the time people were resting their bums on seats – yes, I’m looking at you, The Inquiry. But it is amazing how a talented and hard-working creative team can come together and create something that’s so lifeless, dull and incredibly confusing. Writer Paul Unwin has come up with a kind of Waiting for Poltergeist, but unlike Godot, the poltergeist does turn up every so often. Trouble is no one sees him except us, so we’re left with an unfunny version of the bench sketch in a panto where we shout Behind You! whenever the ghosts appear.

I couldn’t decide whether the writing was deliberately or accidentally confusing; suffice to say, we never really get to the bottom of whether spirit hunter Maurice Grosse is only there because he likes little girls – I can’t imagine what his remaining family and friends must think about the insinuations in the play. There’s also confusion about whether eleven-year-old Janet Hodgson, through whom the poltergeist makes his presence felt, is somehow linked to or a replacement for Grosse’s daughter (also Janet) who (genuinely) died in a motorcycle accident. What’s all that about?

However, it’s not all bad. There are a few nice moments of tension, and a few scenes lighten the mood with occasional humour. The set looks good, and the acting is all perfectly fine (well, nearly all). The role of middle-aged single mum Peggy Hodgson is something Catherine Tate could probably do in her sleep; it doesn’t stretch her in any way, but then again, it doesn’t need to. David Threlfall gives a more interesting performance as Grosse, a balance of kindly curiosity and otherworldly creepiness. Ella Schrey-Yeats is pretty scary as Janet, and Grace Molony is amusing as her challenging teenager sister Margaret, although both actors appear to be way too old to convincingly portray an eleven- and a thirteen-year-old.

My main takeaway from the show was that it simply felt like a great opportunity wasted. It should have been so much scarier, so much either funnier or more savage (depending in which direction you want to take it) and the end should be much more conclusive. It is, clearly, however, hugely better than when it first went on the road; and the moral, should you wish to look for one, is don’t keep the previous dead tenant’s armchair when you move in. Take it to the skip and you can avoid a lot of unpleasantness.

Two Disappointing For More!

Review – Backstairs Billy, Duke of York’s Theatre, London, 27th December 2023

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Every year for the last ten years – apart from in 2020, *obvs* – we’ve taken a trip to the capital for a few nights between Christmas and New Year to take in some shows and hit the London sales. And our first target of the 2023 season was Marcelo Dos Santos’ Backstairs Billy, a refreshingly amusing couple of hours spent in the company of the Queen Mother, her faithful servant and a couple of racing corgis. Dos Santos’ Feeling Afraid as if Something Terrible is Going to Happen was one of the big hits of 2022’s Edinburgh Fringe so I was keen to see some more of his work.

William Tallon – or Billy to his friends – was recruited into the Royal Household at the age of fifteen, and twenty-seven years later became Page of the Backstairs in Clarence House, a position he held until the Queen Mother’s death in 2002. The play is primarily set in 1979, and we see Billy taking complete charge of the minutiae of the Queen Mother’s daily living – her entertaining guests, her planning her day, her deciding what to eat, and so on. We also see how he gets on with the Queen Mother’s secretary (not very well) and other members of staff over whom he holds great sway. It’s a way of life that works well for both page and royal, but when a gentleman caller by the name of Ian becomes something of a tricky overnight guest, relations with the QM also get a little strained.

It’s an enjoyable play with nicely drawn characters – even the minor ones – that makes you both laugh and – not quite cry, but you do feel sadness coming through from time to time. It escalates to some moments of unexpected and delightful farce, such as when an artwork, which is unmistakably a dildo, keeps cropping up in unwanted and royal hands. Ian masquerading as the Prince of Lesotho provides a very funny scene of mistaken identity which is played beautifully. And there’s also a very poignant scene with the ageing Lady Adeline who can’t understand where Bertie has gone, much to everyone’s nicely handled awkwardness.

But this isn’t all just drawing-room comedy; there is a dark side to the play, which I didn’t feel was either fully believable or comfortable to watch. The Queen Mother has her own way of taking Billy down a peg or two and showing him who’s boss. When his gay escapades start to intrude on the integrity and indeed security of the Royal Household, and she appears publicly to disapprove of his wanton sexual behaviour, she punishes him with a pretty revolting task designed purely to humiliate him. However, we’ve already seen her when they were both younger, back in 1952, when Billy first came into her service, encouraging him to wear a Royal tiara and necklace and to explore in his gayness. In modern parlance, she groomed him; and there’s a significant disconnect between her treatment of Billy then and in 1979. If this is meant to show that her own attitudes to homosexuality have changed over the years, it doesn’t work; it comes across as simply inconsistent.

You can absolutely believe that we are in the Garden Room at Clarence House with Christopher Oram’s stunning set – immaculately tasteful and regal, and with a huge amount of consideration going into the positions of the floral bouquets. Tom Rand’s costumes for the Queen Mum are elegant, practical and are precisely how you would expect her to have dressed at home. In fact, all aspects of the production are superbly done.

Penelope Wilton leads the cast as the Queen Mother and it’s a role in which she revels. You get the feeling that the QM is so used to public life that she never really has a private moment in which to be herself; it’s a delicate, measured, considered portrayal, with no words ever out of place or wrongly delivered, even when she’s talking to herself. And of course Dame Penelope has terrific timing that beautifully exploits all the comic possibilities of the script. She is matched by Luke Evans as Billy, an imposing, authoritative stage presence who flips perfectly from being the respectful servant to the intimidating boss with ease, and always with a touch of flamboyance.

Iwan Davies is excellent as new household recruit Gwydion, all nervous hunched shoulders and painfully out of his depth, Ian Drysdale is also superb as the no-nonsense secretary Mr Kerr, always on hand to reprimand Billy for any misjudgements, and there are great supporting performances from all the cast, especially Eloka Ivo as the unpredictable Ian and Ilan Galkoff as the wet-behind-the-ears but keen young Billy.

A crowd-pleaser of a show that looks absolutely perfect in all respects and tickles our memories and any preconceptions we may have had of the Queen Mother, more than twenty years after her death. Terrific performances, and Mr Dos Santos is rapidly becoming a playwright to seek out.

 

 

4-starsFour They’re Jolly Good Fellows!

Review – Close Up, The Twiggy Musical, Menier Chocolate Factory, London, 22nd October 2023

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I was having second thoughts about seeing this show because the opening a few weeks ago was greeted with a swathe of very iffy reviews. But I can never resist a Menier Sunday matinee, no matter what the show is; and all I can say is, gentle reader, never trust a critic. They (and I include my humble self here) don’t know what they’re talking about. Close Up – The Twiggy Musical is a complete winner from start to finish. In fact it’s rare to find a production that’s outstanding in virtually every department.

For the youngsters among you, Twiggy was the affectionate nickname given to the young (very young, as it turns out) Lesley Hornby back in the mid 1960s, a naïve girl from Neasden who was catapulted to stardom through a modelling career that has certainly lingered over the decades, as has the affection the British public have for this true sixties icon. Ben Elton’s book and lyrics take the form of a kind of a musical docudrama, with Twiggy herself (as performed by Elena Skye) narrating the story of her life,all pleasingly punctuated by vignettes with her parents, Norman and Nell, her best friends Cindy, Sally and Kay, and the major influences on her life, including manager/lover Justin de Villeneuve and first husband Michael Witney. All this is set alongside a musical kaleidoscope of memorable 60s and 70s hits, played by Stuart Morley’s terrific band, and performed with gusto and emotion from the brilliant ensemble cast.

It’s full of funny asides, with loads of nicely judged interaction with the audience so that the fourth wall is in a virtual state of ruins. Elton’s script depicts Twiggy as her own worst enemy; for example, when everyone tells her that she should do X she always does Y (they told me I should leave him, so what did I do? I married him!) Whilst never shying away from the grim reality that frequently lurks barely beneath the surface – underage sex, mental health issues, business disasters, etc – the characters always remain positive and optimistic, always see the best in a situation, and always look to learn from harsh experience to make things better in the future. This helps towards creating a truly feelgood show, full of humour, emotion and life events that we can all recognise.

All the creative team make massive contributions to the success of the show. Timothy Bird’s set is beautifully simple, with just a projection screen at the back of the stage and a white roll of film running out from it across the floor. Tim Blazdell’s video design utilises that screen and the back projection wall to terrific effect with contemporary images and films. Philip Gladwell’s lighting design is 100% fab, with psychedelic flashes and moods in all the colours of the swinging sixties, and Jonathan Lipman’s costumes are absolutely spot on in reflecting the daring styles, lurid colour combinations, outlandish fabrics and so on that made the 60s so special. Jacob Fearey’s stunning choreography is full of carefree abandon, love of life, and truly feeling the groove; the ensemble dancers fill the relatively small stage of the Menier with an overwhelming sense of exhilaration and fun.

The whole show revolves around Elena Skye’s performance as Twiggy. She completely looks the part, she has an engagingly honest relationship with the audience, and gives an excellent sense of a character who is frequently out of her depth, anxiously biting her lip, but always willing to give-it-a-go. She was by far the best thing about last year’s touring production of We Will Rock You and, if anything, she is even better in Close Up.

There are also tremendous performances from Steven Serlin and Hannah-Jane Fox as her parents. Both are blessed with invigorating and expressive voices; Mr Serlin imbues Norman with true warmth and kindness throughout, and comes across as a Dad in a Million. He’s also a devil with those marvellous impersonations of 60s and 70s interviewers! Ms Fox conveys Nell’s sadness and frustration with her own mental health but also overflows with pride and shows how superbly she would encourage her daughter always to be the best she can. Aoife Dunne gives a hilarious performance as Twiggy’s occasionally foul-mouthed friend Cindy, whilst Beth Devine is also impressive as the ever-supportive Sally,and Lauren Azania AJ King-Yombo excels as her friend Kay, with a beautiful ability to cut the cr*p and tell harsh truths where necessary. Darren Day uses his terrific voice to great effect as Michael Witney, with very moving renditions of Without You and The Air That I Breathe – his Jekyll and Hyde transformations between sober Michael and drunk Michael work very well, and I almost – not quite, but almost – felt a drop of moistness in my eye during his final scene.

Stealing every scene he is in is a tremendously funny and quirky performance by Matt Corner as Twiggy’s Svengali (they hated that word) Justin de Villeneuve. Taking the Mickey out of the character even before he’s on stage, Mr Corner gives him boundless arrogance and endless shiftiness; a brilliant portrayal of someone who blagged their way to success and had absolutely no qualms about creaming the top off other people’s achievements whilst all his own sparkle was a mere façade.Superb.

The show runs at the Menier until 18th November, but there’s barely a ticket to be had; all I can suggest is that you keep an eye out for returns. Surely this must have a life afterwards! A show that sends you out of the theatre bristling with energy and that sense of privilege that you’ve seen something incredible.

Five Alive, let Theatre Thrive!

Review – Operation Mincemeat, Fortune Theatre, London, 21st October 2023

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Here’s the first of three shows we saw over the weekend. Of those, one I had very high hopes for, the next I was expecting to be ok and the third I was worried about because of iffy reviews. However, never trust other people’s reviews (and that includes my own) – because the show I thought I’d enjoy best I enjoyed least, and vice versa.

Firstly though, what a delight to be able to return to the Fortune Theatre after decades of its hosting The Woman in Black. Not that that wasn’t a good use of its facilities, but, I mean, 34 years? Come on!! I’d forgotten its charming intimacy, its lopsided central aisle, its surprisingly plain interior and its elegant, daring and mildly saucy safety curtain. Next year the theatre will celebrate its 100th birthday; may I be among the first to congratulate it on still looking so young.

Operation Mincemeat (the musical) is based on Operation Mincemeat (the wartime operation), which also gave rise to Operation Mincemeat (the film). One of the masterminds of the operation, Ewan Montagu, wrote an account of it as The Man Who Never Was, which led to the film, The Man Who Never Was. You would have thought that with all this history, dramatisation, adaptation and so forth that I would have heard about it. But neither Mrs Chrisparkle nor I had a clue about what to expect. And, on reflection, it would have been useful to have had some prior knowledge about the operation and what it entailed; may I suggest that a potted history about this 1943 deception ploy would have been a jolly useful thing to put in the programme.

David Cumming, Felix Hagan, Natasha Hodgson and Zoe Roberts’ musical has been five years in the development, and has grown through a number of fringey productions to be quite the smash hit in the West End – and I can only applaud them for that achievement. However, despite its popularity, and with almost record-breaking numbers of extensions in a very short time, it clearly is very popular, I found it very hard to warm to or relate to this show. I really, really wanted to love it – but its charms just passed me by.

Three members of that creative team are also in the cast; and I can’t help but wonder if might be one of the problems. I constantly got a sense of self-indulgence with the show; a, dare I say it, smugness about its approach. A couple of the performancers scream Look at me, aren’t I funny through everything they do, and I confess the show largely got on my nerves. Imagine if MI5 had been taken over by the Monty Python team; not so much the Ministry of Silly Walks, but certainly the Ministry of Silly Voices. Lacking proper characterisations, this MI5 is staffed by pantomime caricatures instead, and every opportunity to go over-the-top is taken. Natasha Hodgson’s Montagu, for example, adopts a gruff, knowing voice as she/he kicks back her/his chair and growls at the audience who go mad with appreciation in response. David Cumming’s Cholmondeley is a wet-behind-the-ears silly arse straight out of Jeeves and Wooster.  

Whilst it aspires to Hamilton levels of verbal dexterity, it sadly lacks any of that production’s audio clarity. I could tell that there was a lot of comical content in the lyrics, but the shouty freneticism of much of the delivery just left me frustrated at not getting more out of it. It needs more light and shade, more changes of pace, more moments of reflection and the chance for the audience to get their thoughts together. It’s also slightly off-putting when an audience is full of returning fans, who know the show intimately, and constantly tell the new people they’ve brought along isn’t it brilliant. The show is by far at its best in its few moments of quieter emotion; the voices of Jak Malone in the role of Hester and Clarie Marie Hall as Jean shine through. That said, the opening number in the second act, Das Übermensch, a stunning imagining of German Nazis performing a showstopper, is a hilarious highlight.

I think I simply have a different sense of humour from that required to enjoy this show, and I fully recognise that it’s me who’s missing out. My guess is that this show is going to continue at the Fortune for quite some time yet – maybe not a Woman in Black degree of longevity, but I’m sure the investors will be very happy indeed.

3-starsThree-sy Does It!