Tag Archives: Royal

Review – God of Carnage, Royal and Derngate, Northampton, 24th October 2012

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Yasmina Reza’s characters enjoy a good argument, don’t they? In Art (admittedly the only other Reza play I’ve seen) friendships get destroyed over the purchase of a painting. In God of Carnage two couples meet to discuss a fight their sons had, that resulted in one of them losing a couple of teeth. Unlike in the first play, these people have never met before so don’t have established friendships at risk; however, by the end of the play any pretence at middle-class politeness and structured problem solving has gone right out of the window.

Alan and Annette are at a disadvantage though; not only is it their son, Ferdinand, who has committed the alleged attack, they are at the “away ground” that is Bruno’s parents’ (Veronica and Michael) living room. Veronica is in charge of negotiations – Michael is obviously just there for back-up – and Alan (a pharmaceutical company lawyer) is playing a subtle defensive bat looking to disallow inappropriate words and assumptions. Annette is the soul of politeness and impeccable behaviour until she has an unfortunate attack of nausea – with explosive results. It’s the kind of nightmare event that, unless you were with good friends, would be absolutely impossible to overcome and your relationship – whatever it was – could never be the same again. While Veronica and Michael are clearing up the mess, Alan overhears them laughing at their guests’ awfulness – and that’s the cue for the arguments really to begin.

If you’ve read some of my other theatre reviews, gentle reader, you will know that I tend to question productions that don’t have an interval. I love an interval. It’s a chance to reflect over what you’ve seen in the first half and consider what might happen in the second half; on a practical level it’s the opportunity to stretch your legs, nip to the loo, have a drink or an ice-cream and indeed wake yourself up if the first half has been dull. It’s also an opportunity for the theatre to make some money from bar sales – don’t knock it, they need to raise revenue for the good of us all. So if there’s no interval – as in this case – I ask myself why. If it’s a good reason artistically – as in the recent Bully Boy – then so be it. If there’s no particular reason apart from wanting to go home fifteen minutes earlier – as in the Menier’s revival of Educating Rita – then it’s very annoying. There’s no doubt in my mind that God of Carnage could not sustain an interval – but that’s because at 90 minutes duration it is, in my mind, about 30 minutes too long and would be much better off as a classic one act play, ideally to be shown together with another one act play either side of an interval.

I felt that once the initial scenario is played out – polite discussions of children’s delinquency which gets overtaken by the parents’ falling out over it – there really wasn’t very much further that the play could go. Yes, the characters are revealed as more selfish, bigoted and generally unpleasant than you might have thought them at the beginning, but I didn’t feel they were sufficiently developed so as to give you a greater insight into the human condition. There is a sense of a sex war going on, as the men find a certain understanding between them over a glass of excellent rum, whilst the women, descending into drunkenness and abandon, commit acts of violence and destruction on the men. As Mrs Chrisparkle pointed out, these sequences are funny in themselves but would not have been so had the acts been committed by the men on the women. As a study of a polite group of people turning against themselves because of underlying bigotry, this is no Clybourne Park; and as a study of hosts turning on their guests to mask their own unhappy relationship this is no Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf. Don’t get me wrong – I enjoyed the play; it was fine; I just wasn’t challenged by it in the way I’d hoped.

Technically it’s a very good production. We both admired the set’s back wall of individual tulips, like a vertical garden, cleverly lit so that it looks as though they are either leaning inwards either in support of each other or sparring with each other. The change to red lighting gave an eerie sense of blood, which was quite alarming. Otherwise it’s a simple, narrow set, with a floor sloping down towards the audience, giving you a slightly uncomfortable sense of imbalance, visually underlining the claustrophobia and the inevitability of things (handbag contents, vomit, for example) toppling down towards you. There’s also no doubt that the play’s coup-de-theatre, the nausea attack, was achieved brilliantly believably and with delightful messiness.

The four characters are all very well acted by the highly talented cast. Sian Reeves as Veronica is perfect as the super-polite hostess with the hidden agenda of coercing her guests into accepting full responsibility for the “disfigurement” to her child. She does a very nice line in smugness about her writing achievements and goes scarily maniacal as she is let down by her husband later on. It’s a very funny performance.

As her more down to earth husband Michael, James Doherty has an excellent set piece early on when he talks about hamstergate, and his inability to understand why no one agrees with him on this is very funny. He absolutely gets that sense of rivalry with his more educated foe Alan, and when he becomes simply angry at all the shenanigans his portrayal of that anger is very clear, straightforward and believable.

Simon Wilson’s Alan, enthralled to his Blackberry, is a very credible ruthless lawyer who requires that the world bow down to his requirements. He has a superb inscrutable look and you can just imagine that he has workplace bullying down to a fine art. When Annette takes his communication lifeline away he is completely lost and powerless – all that’s left is his husk. You’d feel sorry for him if the arrogant wretch didn’t deserve it so much.

And Melanie Gutteridge as Annette lives and breathes every moment of the play – her social dilemmas of when and what to say whilst they’re all being polite; suffering the embarrassment of vomiting everywhere; beginning to stand up to her hosts as they accuse her son unfairly; taking revenge on her husband; and finally trying to find a way forward out of the mess. She’s superb. On the night we went, she was still brushing away real tears during curtain call.

All in all some very good elements make up an entertaining evening, but for me the play was a bit disappointing; too long for a one-acter and lacking a decent denouement, but with four very committed performances.

Review – The Woman in Black, Royal and Derngate, Northampton, 9th October 2012

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Well here’s a successful formula. Stephen Mallatratt’s dramatisation of Susan Hill’s novel, directed by Robin Herford, first hit the stage of London’s Fortune Theatre in 1989 and is still going, making it London’s second longest running play after The Mousetrap. Mrs Chrisparkle and I have seen it twice in London; once a few years after it opened, and a second time in the early 2000s. It works best in a small, intimate theatre like the Fortune, which only seats about 430 people, so the cynic in one could say that a small theatre helps get you a long run; but the truth is that it’s a finely crafted, beautifully written play that delights and will continue to delight audiences purely on its own merit, no matter the size of the theatre.

The current run of the play at the Royal in Northampton is a case in point – there are hardly any seats left for any show and last night’s performance was a full house. The Royal is an absolutely perfect location for the play; Victorian, elegant, atmospheric, maybe a little spooky. The setting for the play is inside the very theatre where it is being staged (wherever that may be), and the set itself cleverly overlaps the usual stage area and spills out into the front stalls with additional walkways and pits, blurring the boundary between where the performance begins and the audience ends, which is a vital aspect of the story. As the action unfolds, you also realise that the solid looking but old and scruffy curtain at the back of the stage is not in fact a back boundary, but that lots of activity can be revealed behind it too.

If you haven’t seen the play, here’s a little taster of what it’s about, without, hopefully, giving too much away. Elderly Arthur Kipps (nothing to do with Half a Sixpence) has written out a lengthy account of what happened to him long ago when as a young solicitor he was required to attend the funeral of an old client living in a remote old house, and then sort through her papers afterwards. He has hired the theatre so that he can recount his tale to his family and friends in the hope it will put an end to his prolonged anxiety about the past. He has enlisted the assistance of an actor, who desperately tries to make him perform his story as a gripping yarn – but Kipps is no actor. They therefore decide that the actor will play Kipps, and Kipps will fill out the story with words from the minor characters. Thus we watch rehearsals of the story being acted out; but you soon forget that it’s just a rehearsal – what happens to young Kipps becomes very real indeed.

The play has intricate lighting and sound plots which transform the stage into whatever your imagination wants, or suspects, or fears. The lighting and sound effects play such an important part in the play, it’s almost as though they are the third and fourth performers – or fifth, depending on your point of view. What’s wonderful about the way these effects work is that they’re not remotely sensationalist or gruesome; they’re realistic and subtle, although rarely reassuring. The effect on the audience is of an overwhelming impact – from the set, the sounds, the lights, the characters but primarily perhaps from your own imagination.

This touring production is blessed with two excellent performances. Julian Forsyth plays Kipps with authority, dignity and not without humour when the text demands it. He gives life to all the side characters and I especially enjoyed him as Mr Jerome the agent in Crythin Gifford and as Sam Daily who tries to warn him of the dangers he faces. As the story becomes more urgent and terrifying, so Mr Forsyth’s narration becomes more animated and vivid. It’s a very powerful performance.

The nameless actor is played by Antony Eden, slightly foppish in appearance, and exuding that slight arrogance of a young man whose world/oyster ratio is improving heartily. Bright-eyed and innocent until his first night in Eel Marsh House, his subsequent rise in fearfulness and decline in confidence are convincingly portrayed so that we, the audience, share in everything that he experiences – and it’s scary. If I have a criticism, it would be that the very final twist in the tale didn’t come across with quite the force that I would have expected. But that may be due to the behaviour of certain sections of the audience…

The play is currently part of the GCSE Drama curriculum. This may account for the large number of young people in the audience last night. Now, I accept this is a scary play. Its whole objective is to put the willies up you; and of course it wouldn’t be doing its job if there weren’t a few loud sharp intakes of breath, some involuntary exclamations of fear, some nervous laughter. I learned last night that teenage girls don’t do sharp intakes of breath. What they do is scream – loudly, sustained, for anything up to seven seconds per outburst. It was like there was a whole swathe of Violet Elizabeths at the back. The effect of this is manifold – first, you get people around them going “shush”; then you get other members of the audience laughing at their reaction; finally you realise that you haven’t heard the last few speeches on the stage because of the audience noise and distraction. There is a fourth too – which is that you dread the next scary bit in case they do it again. Rest assured, they do. I don’t want to be an old curmudgeon, and I do remember the exuberance of youth – honestly – but that level of noise can definitely be filed in the over-reaction drawer. Boy, am I glad I was sitting nowhere near them. The Dowager Mrs Chrisparkle would have said “Empty Vessels make the Most Noise”, in that slightly priggish way of hers. Sadly, the overall effect of the screams was to replace enjoyable fear with something a bit more camp, to the detriment of the performance as a whole. Back to that final twist – the audience were generally unsettled by one of these over-reactions a few seconds previously, and I believe that they were too distracted to take in the significance of that final couple of sentences; shame.

I wouldn’t want you to think that only the young misbehaved in the theatre last night – oh no. Despite being given one of the clearest, most thoughtful, most reasoned requests at the beginning of the play to switch off our mobile phones, phones went off at least four times in the first act. The first was about ten minutes in; a gentle, otherwise pleasing tune of sunny disposition that emerged from somewhere to my right. A rustle of bags and coats and it was fairly quickly silenced. After about another ten minutes came number two – from somewhere quite close to me – and this time the phone had obviously been set to vibrate, but it must have been rattling against something as it sounded as loud as a lion’s purr. Unfortunately the owner declined to do anything about it, so it purred away for a good minute before the caller decided to give up. This was a heavy distraction from the action – and I could tell that Mr Eden was put off by it too, as he stumbled a little over his words during that sequence. Five minutes later, the caller decided to try again; and this time the woman directly to my left did an audible sigh – of inconvenience rather than embarrassment – picked up her handbag, took it out and turned it off. After about another fifteen minutes yet another phone went off – again the vibrating sound, again causing great annoyance to everyone around, again leading to noisy coat rustling, handbag clasp snapping and other assorted fumblings. I really was amazed and dismayed by how much interference came from mobiles last night. No wonder before Act Two started the disembodied voice reminded us to turn the bloody things off again (my words, not his). That just left Mrs C to be irritated in the second half by the person on her right and their plentiful supply of wrapped sweets, best consumed in the quietest moments, apparently.

Nevertheless, as for the play, it still has the ability to shock and terrify, but with subtlety and reason, and no loose end in the story is left untied at the end. A very good production, and certainly worth catching; but please, think before you scream, and turn that phone off!

Review – Marcus Brigstocke, The Brig Society, Royal and Derngate, Northampton, 4th October 2012

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The old Royal Theatre in Northampton is a great place to fill with a comic act that is too big for Screaming Blue Murder but maybe not big enough for the Derngate. In the last twelve months it’s hosted Jeremy Hardy, Shappi Khorsandi and now Marcus Brigstocke. You get all the benefits of a full house – great atmosphere, loud laughter – but in an intimate setting which brings you not only closer to the “act” on stage but also to their “victims” dotted around the theatre. Marcus Brigstocke creates a number of “victims” in this show – but rest assured, it’s all done very unthreateningly. To fill out the cabinet of his “Brig Society” government, he’s looking for ministers to fit the tasks ahead. Mrs Chrisparkle very nearly volunteered to be the Chancellor. Instead, the job went to Mr Brigstocke’s mate Shaun who he apparently met on the way to the theatre from the railway station. In any case, it’s a really clever way of involving the audience and gives rise to lots of unpredictable laughs.

But I’m running before I can walk with this review. A nicely edited sequence of soundbites concerning David Cameron’s Big Society and how the PM defines it is used to introduce Mr Brigstocke onto the stage; and we know straight away we’re in for an evening of intelligent and very funny left of centre comedy. He instantly gets a great rapport with the audience. He doesn’t seem to put on an act in any way; you feel that the person speaking to you is absolutely for real and saying precisely what he would say in the pub, or the privacy of his living room.

The “Brig” Society is a very creative idea for a stand-up assessment of the current government and the people who run it, but I particularly liked the fact that the whole evening wasn’t chained to that concept. There were plenty of times when he could take us away from it and talk about subjects like racism (which was hilarious and without the slightest hint of offensiveness), the Olympics, and The Sun for example; all of which he made relevant but which could also be taken as “stand-alone humour modules” in their own right. He’s at his savage best though when making a mockery of the “we’re all in this together” aspects of David Camoron (sic) and Gideon Osborne (also sic) and reflecting on the benefits of Eton College’s charitable status. I also liked his assessment of Jeremy Hunt’s (careful) legacy as Minister for Culture.

Without giving away all his material, there’s also some great observations about Smokers Outside Hospitals – which gets huge laughs of recognition, and a witty and hard-hitting lesson on banking and bankers which involves the movement of an alarming amount of cash around the theatre. Mr Brigstocke obviously had some fans in, as he was presented with a rather splendid oversized silk £10 note at this point, which was funnier than it sounds.

We saw Mr Brigstocke playing King Arthur when Spamalot came to Northampton in 2010 and indeed he came third in the category Best Performance by an Actor in a Musical in the much-coveted 2010 Chrisparkle Awards. On the strength of this stand-up he could well be in line for another award this year. An intelligent, thought-provoking and very funny show that reveals some truly ludicrous things about our beloved nation. All that, and a great selection of 70s Reggae classics played before and after to which Mrs C and I sang along. This tour is carrying on round England and Wales right up till Christmas. A must-see!

Review – Bully Boy, Royal and Derngate, Northampton, 8th September 2012

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I count myself very lucky that my family, my friends and I have never had to deal personally with the horrors of war. I’m not acquainted with anyone in the military services; in fact the only people I’ve ever known who have gone to war were from my parents’ generation. I was born at a fortunate time; maybe if the Falklands War had somehow escalated and conscription was introduced I might have been caught up in that; and if at some time in the future we have a World War Three on the lines of the previous two, I might be required to join some kind of Dad’s Army, although I can’t imagine that such a unit would have a place in modern warfare.

So I have no personal insight into the world of war, but I do have experience of being a human – and this is what this play is all about. Humans pushed to the edge of what is endurable, and then being required by society to be heroic role models, to kick mental health issues under the table, and basically, having done their heroic jobs, to crawl back into their boxes until the country needs them, or their sons, to fight another war, next time around.

In the past when I’ve opened up a theatre programme to discover that the play is a two-hander I’ve always felt a slight sense of disappointment. Somehow you expect less from the play in advance; fewer characters, obviously, but also fewer themes, less variation, maybe a smaller overall vision. Well this two-hander breaks all those preconceptions. It’s chock-full of vision and themes, and whilst there may only be two characters, you really do get to know them inside out. This is quite simply a superb play, written by Sandi Toksvig with sensitivity and insight, wit and compassion, brought to life by two stunning performances in a lucid, inventive production that absolutely gets to the heart of the play and lets the words do the work.

Private Eddie Clark, (strong, young, undereducated, uncontrolled) is interviewed by Major Oscar Hadley, (no use of legs, older, highly educated, controlling and calculating) regarding allegations of his committing an act of summary justice in the field of war. From a point of view of class and background, the two men are worlds apart, linked only by their profession. But then something happens that directly affects the way they both look at their lives, and as their relationship perforce develops, in ways that you would not foresee, similarities arise between them. Woven into this relationship are the themes of loyalty, comradeship, authority, aspiration; reality and fantasy; teamwork and solitary existence. It’s a play of great intensity; from the moment Oscar starts his address to the Court Martial at the beginning of the play to his summing-up at the end, your ears hang on every word and your eyes watch every movement. Normally I’m quite critical of productions where there is no interval – this play is 100 minutes non-stop – as there nearly always is a suitable point where you could break, so we can all get a drink, nip to the loo, all-round freshen up, discuss the first act with you co-attendees, and then return fit and alert for the second half. However, in this play, it’s absolutely vital that there is no 15 minutes break; you would lose that intensity and drive, and it’s best if you don’t allow yourself reflective time to consider what’s going on and how it will all turn out. The end becomes all the more convincing and appropriate as a result.

The whole design team have joined forces to create a deceptively simple set, which, with a little visual and sound stimulation, can take you from court to hospital to library to war but with minimal distraction away from the text and performers. It’s amazing how much a table and a chair can re-create on stage when your imagination gets to work. The back projections by Scott Radnor are particularly effective, and the sound effects by John Leonard were superbly realistic.

But of course it is the performances of the two actors that really remain in your mind. As Oscar, Anthony Andrews brings with him all the bearing, stage presence and technical prowess that you would expect. When he rages, it feels violent and bitter so that you are pulled up sharp in your seat. When he’s sarcastic or manipulating, you rather despise him and want to get your own back on him. When he’s vulnerable and weakened you feel sympathy and you realise he is only human too. You have a constantly changing opinion of him, which helps maintain the pace and intensity. Joshua Miles’ Eddie is a troubled, difficult soul, lacking a direction for his energy, but with whose frustrations you instantly identify, and who you are willing throughout the whole play to be able to turn his life around and have a future. At so many different times throughout the play, his eyes tell a story of unseen, unspoken horror and anguish, and it’s a terrific performance.

Actually it’s difficult to describe these two performances separately because they really constitute a team. The level of trust between them must be incredible as they dovetail in and out of scenes, constantly relying on each other to create a situation that the other will then work off. It’s a total partnership and it felt like an absolute privilege to see them work together. For 100 minutes there is no let-up of focus between them. Even between scenes you can still see the intensity in their expressions. It’s all quite brilliant.

If I have one slight criticism, it is that just very occasionally I felt the script moves away from a credible conversation between the two characters and takes on the role of a Sandi Toksvig polemic against our political leaders who send our troops out to kill and be killed in their name. But then I think of the beautifully written speech by Oscar where he describes how he answers Eddie’s father’s question about why we went to war; subtle, clear, ghastly and hilarious. It really is a superbly crafted play.

Oscar and Eddie’s relationship (I don’t think you could call it a friendship) goes through many phases, which I won’t mention because I don’t want to spoil it for you. Mrs Chrisparkle thought some of the situations stretched credibility to an extent – they would not be the kind of experience that a Major and a Private would share – although she was completely prepared to forgive Ms Toksvig because overall the thing is just so splendid. Personally, I disagreed; I thought they were totally believable situations and that the experiences of war can drive people to behave oddly and make the unexpected into reality. However, what we did agree on was that it is an extraordinary play and production with great performances. After it leaves Northampton it will be the first play at the new St James Theatre in London, and I think it’s going to be a hot ticket.

Review – Jeremy Hardy, Royal, Northampton, 27th January 2012

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Here’s another famous name on the comedy circuit with whom Mrs C and I were fairly unfamiliar, apart from occasionally catching on the odd radio programme. I thought he would be dry and wry but I wasn’t sure what else to expect. I wasn’t expecting over two hours of self-assured, intelligent, observant left-wing comedy, which was a constantly refreshing joy.

Mr Hardy appears modest and slightly undynamic in appearance – he’s wearing a top not a cardy, because he says a cardy would make him look like Rigsby out of Rising Damp – but it’s a mask for a razor sharp wit and an agreeable sense of justice which is the root of much of his comic observations. He moves swiftly from subject to subject without politics ever going too far off the horizon. Here’s a good impression of his approach to politics: everyone hates Cameron but at least he’s honest that he’s a bastard, but everyone doubly hates Clegg because he’s a bastard’s bitch; and Cable is the reasonable image of the LibDems because he oppresses the poor in their own accent. Jeremy Hardy shares a disappointment that life isn’t as good as it should be, and points out all the rotten aspects of life where, really, humanity should try harder. His observations really hit the target.

It’s all absolutely effortless though, or at least it seems to be, so you have a very warm and comfy feeling of being gently led past all the dreadful aspects of society by this kind and caring guide, pointing out all the pitfalls that might accidentally lead you into despair were you to go down that path. At the end of this “comedy therapy”, you feel refreshed and hopeful that life might turn better if everyone heeds Mr Hardy’s advice; but also distressed that everyone else doesn’t share the same political beliefs as you and him.

With no supporting act and just a brief interval it is indeed a tour de force. It’s so rewarding to enjoy comedy with a left wing slant that is uncruel, insightful, and above all intelligent.

Review – Alice in Wonderland, Royal, Northampton, 30th December 2011

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I heard once that the annual Christmas play in the Royal Theatre in Northampton is more entertaining than the traditional panto in the Derngate. So I thought we’d give it a try. This year (I mean last year) it was Alice in Wonderland. So, surrounded by in-laws and nieces we descended the foyer staircase into Wonderland.

They’ve done an excellent job in transporting the usual Royal bar area into a fantasy land where you might meet a white rabbit or a mad hatter, have your photo taken as the Queen of Hearts, and enjoy your interval drinks and ice creams at fancy laid out tables or even reclining in a harem tent (perhaps not quite the traditional Wonderland fantasy, but I’ll go along with it!) The nieces enjoyed their chat with the Mock Turtle and Dodo, and I’ll admit it, so did I. I’m such a groupie.

Anyway there was consternation in the auditorium because they had lost Alice! Whilst they were working out where she might be, we had a choice of costumes for her to wear. I went for the sleazy red dress but the audience was disappointingly predictable in the choice of classic Tenniel blue frock. The Mad Hatter was posing for photos at the front of the stage while the Queen of Hearts was knitting from the Royal Box.

You might by now realise this is not the traditional recounting of the Alice story. It is instead a hugely fun adaptation which takes all the main elements of the original and creates a totally new tale – that of providing amusement for the Queen of Hearts as part of her birthday celebration. All the characters are required to do their turn, including an initially grumpy and unwilling Alice plucked from the auditorium, or else it’s off with their heads. I guess if you were expecting the standard story, you could be a bit disappointed; but the cast and script are so bubbly and entertaining that you shouldn’t feel glum for long.

It’s co-directed by Dani Parr and Laurie Sansom, Northampton’s own Artistic Director. I don’t how the work was shared, but this production has the classic Sansom stamp – a terrific ensemble feel. The actors are so comfortable with each other, interacting seamlessly with each other, tacitly encouraging each other to give of their best. I don’t know how he does it. He must run a great workshop.

Liza Sadovy is the Queen of Hearts, a pushy cow who cheats at croquet, who would frame her own son just for the bloodlust of it, but also has a twinkle in her eye that encouraged me (at least) to vote him guilty – it was the promise of a go in her swimming pool that did it. She’s perfectly cast, has great interaction with the audience and clearly has a wonderful time doing it.

More favoured by Mrs Chrisparkle and the other ladies of our set, was the roguish charm of Mark McGee’s Mad Hatter, who acts as an everyman-type narrator guiding us through the madness, and whose attraction for the Queen is clearly more than you would expect from your average milliner. He commands the stage with a big show number in the court where he dons a gold glittery suit and top hat straight out of A Chorus Line finale. I covet it. I also loved his and the March Hare’s (Ryan Early) surreal Table of Delights, an almost torturous tea-party where Alice constantly misses out on the victuals. Mr Early also gave a very nice turn as a hard-nosed theatrical agent. Good stuff.

Another favourite was Adam Baxter as Little Bill the heroic lizard, whose speech of tragic bravery after he had been shot out of the caravan (don’t ask) had me guffawing embarrassingly loudly. He did all the physical comedy really well. And Ngozi Ugoh as Dodo Sminkypuffs and the Cheshire Cat gives another excellently spirited performance. We all thought she was great and could be Someone To Watch In The Future. But all the cast were highly entertaining and no one gave anything but a great performance.

Where else might you be required to shout “Pig Baby!” at the top of your voice, whilst chucking numerous of the said babies on to the stage, or get hit by stuffed hedgehogs propelled by flamingo croquet mallets. “First address your hedgehog – Hello hedgehog!” is already ensconced as part of the Chrisparkle family repartee. All this plus the unexpected arrival of the jam tarts! It’s full of colour, entertaining props, funny songs, memorable lines and we all loved it from start to finish.

Review – Flathampton, Adults only show, Derngate, Northampton, 29th July 2011

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Having seen one type of unique entertainment last week, here is another refreshingly different way to spend an evening at the theatre. Essentially, this is the adults only version of a kids’ show, where the seats of the Derngate are ripped out and replaced with play mats depicting roads and roundabouts, shops and other municipal buildings, but all one-dimensional as we are in Flathampton now, where the supine is king.But Kate comes back to Flathampton from the big city and shows her old friends a new way of life, based on three-dimensional solid construction, so the Flathamptonites can now experience – in depth, literally – real shops, a real hospital, a real fashion salon and more. The Flathamptonites needed our help in assembling these flat pack pieces into proper buildings, but we were more than happy to oblige.

Happiness is the order of the day. From the moment your bus collects you from your bus stop, (you won’t get anywhere without your bus pass) and you whizz around the theatre foyers en route to Flathampton, you’re busily chatting away to your fellow travellers, waving to the box office staff and ushers, and even the Chief Executive was merrily waving us on to our destination. It’s as though the entire building has come out to wish you a happy playtime. Once you’re in Flathampton, you get befriended by one of its leading inhabitants and shown the ropes of the Flat Lifestyle. We were with Matt (I think that was his name) in the Clothes Zone. But when Kate arrives and drops her bombshell of Another Way Of Doing Things, it’s up to you now to teach and encourage the locals how to be 3D.So I helped construct the fashion shop, and brought the dressing up clothes in (on a jolly heavy rail), and as a result Mrs Chrisparkle and I were the first on the catwalk, me with my full length black leather coat and deerstalker, she with her green gossamer gown with ivy trimmings. I also put on the ambulanceman outfit, but felt that was going just too far.

Then basically you wander round the town and play at all the stalls. We hobnobbed at the Silent Disco with two members of the Our Country’s Good cast; exchanged our cash for Flathampton Pounds (1 GBP = 1 FHP) and bought two Flathampton Royale cocktails (and they sure packed a punch); played Roulette at the bank and we both won, which meant we got to wear the Top Hat; played Play Your Cards Right at Jeff’s Store, which somehow was both a store and a TV studio;got to present the Flathampton News on Live TV, which is shown on a large screen in the auditiorium; and visited Flathampton General Hospital where the slightly unhinged Doctor Zee prescribed me a Vodka Shot to help me get over my dose of Chronic Uncertainty that I apparently presented.

If it were just a question of us wandering around and playing, it would be fun and different, but generally unstructured. What makes this all really rather splendid is the introduction of a narrative throughout the evening – Kate’s arrival; the official catwalk show; and Kate’s surprise party, where themes that had been building up throughout the evening get resolved. So it actually becomes a mixture of play, promenade theatre and improvisation. Personally I always find promenade theatre really thrilling. You are right there in the thick of it, with all the actions going on around you. I remember seeing The Passion at the National Theatre Cottesloe back in 1979 I think, with the late Mark McManus (aye, the original Taggart, no less) as Christ with his amazingly bright blue eyes staring me in the face and condemning me for betrayal, only to find I had Judas standing right behind me.I have instant recall of that feeling; the shudder that it gave me remains with me to this day. That’s the kind of effect this kind of theatre can have on you. OK, Flathampton doesn’t deal with such weighty subjects. But in its own way it’s a real thrill to be part of it all. The improvisation aspect comes about as you engage with the characters,because you never know what they are going to say, and much more significantly, they don’t know what you’re going to come up with. I got personally involved as a Go-Between between the rather timid Doctor Zee and the young lady of his affections, and got her address and phone number on a piece of paper for him. On his behalf, I ascertained she was single and he let rip a massive “YES!!” with an air-punch. Great stuff!

It’s a tonic for the soul, allowing you to dig deep into your recollection of your own long lost youthful playtimes. I reckon this show could become the model for corporate events, team building exercises and the like. You could attend as part of a big group, or you could go on your own and make friends. It all seamlessly rolls together, sometimes you don’t quite know who’s an actor and who’s a fellow guest, which is rather entertaining in itself. With the assistance of a little online research I can reveal that among this talented cast are Frank Wurzinger as the loopy Doctor Zee, Jenni Jackson as his much beloved, Leigh Kelly as the multi-tasking Jeff and the engaging Michael Imerson and hilarious Becky Kitter on the catwalk. Thanks to Flathampton TV’s Laura Osei-Bonsu for use of her photos. Let’s hope they bring it back for a third season next year, and maybe increase the number of adult performances. I’m sure it could become a real cult show!

Review – Hardeep Singh Kohli, The Nearly Naked Chef, Royal, Derngate, Northampton, 21st July 2011

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This was one of those shows that I booked by instinct. I didn’t know much about Hardeep Singh Kohli; we’d seen him once on Question Time and also in that series about celebrities seeing what it’s like to be homeless, which despite extensive use of Prof. Google, doesn’t seem to be researchable anywhere.

So what would the show be? A comedy stand up? A chat with the audience? A cookery demonstration? Would he be nearly naked? Actually it was a mix of all of the above, the nearly naked element being the fact that he wore a kilt and therefore one presumes he would dress traditionally.

I wouldn’t normally be the kind of person who would be interested in a cookery demonstration. Cooking for me is a passive affair. I am happy to hunt down the necessary elements from Waitrose for Mrs C to reassemble into a meal, and can stretch to preparing pasta with a sauce that goes ping after one minute fifteen seconds. Anything more in depth than that and we would probably both head for one of our seemingly endless range of delightful eateries within 500 yards of Sparkle Castle.

But, actually, Mr HSK’s combination of cookery and chattery works effortlessly well. His ability to divert and cook at the same time proves that not only women can multitask. To this end, he’s definitely on a par with Meera Syal. His insights into what goes on in the kitchens of one’s local Indian Restaurant were fascinating and made perfect sense, and he provided a lot of I’m sure useful information about how to create the perfect lamb curry, to which I listened, smiled and forgot.

It’s a most unusual evening’s entertainment; quiet, convivial, infused with a gentle humour, satisfying in a charming sort of way. The only other one-man show I’ve seen that had a similar atmosphere was when, several decades ago, Mrs C and I saw the Rabbi Lionel Blue eloquently rambling away at an evening event in Aylesbury Church. Time moves on, and Mr HSK uses a few more four-letter words than the good Rabbi did, but then he was cooking as well, which the Rabbi wasn’t.

I think I would most liken it to spending the evening in the kitchen at a dinner party, conversing genially with your host as he prepares a toothsome repast, swapping stories about twitter and ingredients, seeing the meal come together; and then the final act of the show, which happens after curtain down, is to be imagined in his comfortable dining room over poppadoms and port.

There’s no doubt that Mr HSK is a fine cook, as I was one of the lucky ones chosen to sample his Lamb Curry, recipe thoughtfully provided in the very reasonably priced programme. Actually I think it was the minty dressing that made it. He had a relaxed rapport with the audience, and I think we all went home nourished to some extent.

It’s not a show for everyone; if you’re expecting lively stand up and a bunch of jokes you’d be disappointed. One person appeared to walk out because he wasn’t Delia Smith. Another person, for no reason whatsoever, announced that he didn’t follow him on twitter. On second thoughts, that was me, sorry about that. Definitely an evening with a difference.

Review – The Burlesque Show, Royal, Northampton, 3rd July 2011

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This was a complete leap into the Unknown. What would “The Burlesque Show” involve? The theatre’s website promised us a top magician and an exotic dancer. Well we certainly got them, and a whole lot more. So what is Burlesque? Well, from having seen just one evening’s entertainment, it’s largely old-fashioned variety with some titillation thrown in for good measure. But it also seems to have some retro style, and judging from the audience, seems to appeal to women more than men. Doing a bit of online research it looks like it’s a growing cult entertainment, with a considerable following. Well it’s never crossed my path before, but then I have led a sheltered life.

Anyway the good burghers of Northampton know their Burlesque as the Royal was packed again and the audience were in an extremely good mood! Our hostess was Kiki Kaboom (it didn’t take me long to realise some of these performers work under a Nom-de-Burlesque). She is a bright funny lady who got us warmed up with her rendition of “I’m a little girl from Maidstone”. She had great interaction with the audience and kept the whole evening going at a good pace and with an endearing warmth.

One aspect of a burlesque evening seems to be that you get attractive young ladies taking the majority (but not all) of their clothes off. Far be it from me to judge which of Elle Amour, Kittie Klaw and Dani California did it best; but they were all entertaining, stylish, and performed with coquettish humour.I particularly enjoyed La Klaw’s battle against a seemingly endless supply of spiders nestling about her body, which (of course) required the removal of clothing to get rid of them.Elle Amour did two routines, the second of which was particularly edifying as it involved quite a lot of bottom shaking. The interesting thing was how the whole thing really was done “in the best possible taste”.

It wasn’t all titillation though. There were some really funny and entertaining variety acts too. For example, we had Mat Ricardo. He’s a juggler – incredibly skilful, with very funny patter, a likeable personality; and he did two routines, both of which were ace.

Then there was Elliot Mason, a singer of comedy songs about the most unlikely subjects. Two of his really funny songs were about corporate rebranding and the delight in finding sufficient washing up liquid left on the sponge in order to wash the cup that was left out of the dishwasher. He has a great attacking style and involves the audience so that it’s impossible to resist singing along with his ridiculous songs, even though you can’t. Great fun.

We had the singer, Dolores Delight, who really came into her own with her second half number, Moon River, performed alongside the most massive balloon you’ve ever seen (hot air balloons excluded). The balloon took on the appearance of the moon and it was a really charming performance.

You couldn’t get more different from Dolores to Fancy Chance, who had two thoroughly memorable routines. In the first half she did a perfect parody of Prince (the “Squiggle” singer), in what I guess is the absolute true spirit of Burlesque. It was amazingly funny. Her second half performance was an homage to North Korea, which quite simply involved a bit of everything. It was just extraordinary!

Top of the bill – in a sense – was the magician Paul Zenon, who did two excellent tricks; one which Mrs Chrisparkle says she has seen before (I don’t know who she was with because it was new to me), where he spun a full pint of Newcastle Brown around and around while it was perched inside a snooker triangle. Fantastic stuff. Even more effective was another routine where he invited a gentleman up from the audience who was wearing a smart jacket, got him to remove said jacket, whence he proceeded to stab a hole in the back of the jacket and pull endless bits of lining out of the hole he had made, right in front of the poor jacket owner’s nose, then only to present the jacket back unharmed. We spoke to the jacket’s owner on the way out – he said that although he was within inches of the trick being performed he had no idea how Paul Zenon had done it.

One final act was Jim Devereaux; he starts off being a stagehand and ends up being an Elvis impersonator. He was brilliant! I’m not a great Elvis fan but he did his very best songs and it worked extremely well. Would you believe he is the grandson of Ed Devereaux of Skippy fame? Now there’s quality.

This is not in any way meant as a pejorative comment – quite the reverse – but I found the entire show to be the absolutely best “End of the Pier” night you could possibly imagine; or alternatively, the tip-top in cruise entertainment. If you’ve ever been on a cruise ship and seen really really good variety, you’ll appreciate just how excellent this show was.

The only thing that slightly confused me was the advisory age restriction notices placed outside the theatre. Not recommended for the under 16s. 16??? All you saw was one nipple and even that was due to a wardrobe misfunction. The language was milder than most other comedy acts we have seen. By contrast, when I was 13 I saw “Birds of Paradise” at the Garrick Theatre, where Miss Moira Lister was in charge of five rather lovely young working girls, who went topless for the majority of the second act. No one raised an eyebrow at the sight of a 13-year-old in the front row. The only raising was done by the 13-year-old in question. I do feel the age restriction for the Burlesque Show was misplaced and unnecessary.

Nevertheless, it was a really terrific night’s entertainment, which went down a complete storm with the audience. I definitely hope this becomes a regular feature; the Royal is the perfect environment for this sophisticated variety show.

Review – Rory Bremner and Friends, Royal, Derngate, Northampton, 29th June 2011

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I was really surprised when it was announced that Rory Bremner would be appearing at the Royal. Firstly because I thought he was strictly a TV and radio performer, and secondly because it was the Royal and not the Derngate. If you don’t know, the Royal is a charming small Victorian theatre, that seats somewhere around 300 people and the Derngate is a much larger modern auditorium that seats around 1300, and that’s where the majority of big stand-up acts perform. So I got my tickets booked and bought good and early because I thought there would be a big demand for the seats.

And as the weeks went on, I was looking at the seating plan online and realising that not many seats had been sold at all. Is this an indication that Mr Bremner is past his best? Isn’t there much demand for a satirical impressionist anymore? I was getting a little worried. No need for alarm. I’m pleased to say that the comedy lovers of Northampton are late bookers, because last night there were hardly any seats left, and in fact it was the most packed I’ve ever seen the Royal auditorium.

It’s a very relaxed and enjoyable evening. Rory Bremner introduces the show with about a ten minute slot followed by Ian Shaw on the piano for about fifteen minutes, then Hattie Hayridge has a longer slot, and then Rory Bremner wraps up the first half. After the interval, Ian Shaw returns for some more music and then Rory Bremner does his main session. It’s very satisfyingly structured, just like you would have seen on a traditional variety show on television about thirty years ago.

So what of his friends? Ian Shaw is a jazz singer but here he spends his time doing some comedy numbers and a couple of unexpected songs that involved the audience. He has a very warm and entertaining personality and a very good rapport with the audience. To be honest, the words “jazz singer” would normally fill me with dread but he was a breath of fresh air, and the time he spent onstage went very quickly.

Unfortunately not quite the same could be said about Hattie Hayridge. Whilst her material was very funny, for some reason she didn’t establish a rapport with the audience whose reaction to her was rather embarrassingly quiet. She has a very dry and self-deprecating style, which will always tickle the laughter out of some people, it then depends if this laughter is catching or not. Last night, it wasn’t really. Sure, some were laughing hysterically, but it wasn’t the majority. If she had been performing in the Screaming Blue Murder club, I think she would have been heckled. I didn’t “get” her character, and I’m afraid that when her act was over I was a bit relieved.

However, Rory Bremner was on top form. He has great material, a natural charm, full of charisma, and is a great communicator. His impressions are still top notch – although I found his Winston Churchill a bit too like Tony Benn – and he has plenty of topical characters too, like Andy Murray and Rafael Nadal. The satire can be biting, but it’s always a delight too. And the intimacy of the Royal was just perfect for his adult, intelligent humour. So, all in all, a most enjoyable night’s entertainment.

Martin Bell was in the audience! Yes, the reporter turned Independent MP. I’m sure it was him. It looked like him and he was wearing his trademark white jacket. Celebrity audiences invade Northampton! You heard it here first.