Tag Archives: Tony Jayawardena

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Five Alive, Let Theatre Thrive!

Review – The Father and the Assassin, National Theatre, Olivier Theatre, London, 26th May 2022

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Within a minute of the start of Anupama Chandrasekhar’s magnificent The Father and the Assassin, Gandhi’s murderer, Nathuram Godse, has already mocked us all for only knowing about him through “that fawning Attenborough film. With Sir Ben Kingsley”. The scorn fairly drips from his lips, but we forgive him, because we are already spellbound by this cheeky chirpy chap who addresses us as though he’s Live at the Apollo, and we’re all out to have some fun. How can it be that we so easily fall for his charm and humour, this man who sets out to kill Gandhi; the Father of India, the model of humanity, the architect of non-violent protest?

Surely he’s a ruthless ogre, a tyrannical terrorist, a monster in human form? No. He’s just little Nathuram Godse, born to a Brahmin family who made him grow up as a girl because they were terrified that all the boys in the family die due to some ridiculous curse. With such an artificial start to life, no one could blame him for feeling like a fish out of water, at odds with the world. He runs away to hear his childhood hero Gandhi address a crowd; and when the nine-year-old Godse can’t pretend to be a girl anymore, who is there to dress him like a boy in a kurta pyjama and thus allow him to start his life over again? None other than the great man himself. Chandrasekhar blurs so many lines with her depiction of Godse that you cannot but admire him, and appreciate his complicated and conflicting emotions, even though we know, and he knows we know, that he’s a murderer.

Never off stage, Godse takes us through his childhood, and his relationship with his parents, through to his apprenticeship to the tailor Kishore, his introduction to nationalist agitator Vinayak Savarkar and espousal of his beliefs, the discussions and agreements that led to partition, and the perception that Gandhi is to blame. We see the assassination, and the arrests of Godse and his friend Apte. But as Godse avows to the audience at the end, “it’s better to be a Godse than a Gandhi… A Gandhi is of no use to you when tomorrow’s battles are fought with deadlier weapons. No, you’ll need a Godse. And I will rise.”

Rajha Shakiry’s simple but impressive set design is a backdrop of threads; tightly woven at one end representing a cohesive piece of material, separated at the other end to reveal the individual cotton threads that lack the skilled craftsman to make cloth. Gandhi, of course, famously spun cotton; is he the master who can make a whole from the disparate threads of the Indian subcontinent, or is he the reason the country is randomly picked apart, resulting in the personal and national horrors of partition?

A great set, costumes, lighting and so on; but the real strength of this production is that enchanted theatre environment where inspired writing and superb performance meet. Shubham Saraf is simply mind-blowing as Godse; his is a performance of enormous wit, charm, humour and intelligence. The essential challenge of the play, to win the audience onto the side of the murderer, is achieved right from the start with Mr Saraf’s masterful delivery and hugely likeable characterisation. His light-hearted attitude makes the perfect contrast with Paul Bazely’s serious Gandhi, who takes control of his scenes with a measured calmness that gives you an instant insight into the man’s charisma, and is another brilliant characterisation.

Tony Jayawardena and Ayesha Dharker are superb as Godse’s parents, fussing and protecting and trying to lay down the law as good Indian parents always do. I really enjoyed the portrayal of Jinnah by Irvine Iqbal, wiping out the memory from “that fawning Attenborough film” that Jinnah was the outright bad guy, representing him in a much more reasonable light. There’s excellent support from Ankur Bahl as the petulant tailor Kishore, and as his childhood friend Madhav; and from Dinita Gohil as his friend Vimala, who constantly returns to interrupt Godse’s narrative, questioning his beliefs and attitudes, much to his annoyance.

There are great performances also from Sagar Arya as the severe and ruthless Savarkar, encouraging unrest from Godse, and a scene-stealing turn from Nadeem Islam as Mithun, the school watchman, who tries to influence young Godse but is let down by him. But the entire cast work together extremely well and tell this beautifully written story with conviction, humour and tremendous heart.

This is one of those rare, delightful productions that you know is going to be fantastic right from the very start. The two and half hours fly by, without a duff scene or a wasted word, piecing together the jigsaw puzzle that unites Godse and Gandhi in an attempt to justify the assassination. Of course, the audience will be the judge of that. And there are one or two references that sneak in, regarding life in Britain today; some things just never change. I was riveted throughout. And with Mr Shubham Saraf, a star is most definitely born! The play continues at the Olivier Theatre until 18th June, but I’m sure it won’t be the last we see of this modern classic.

Five Alive, let Theatre Thrive!

Review – Young Marx, Bridge Theatre, 19th November 2017

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First of all, a great big stagey welcome to the Bridge Theatre, a new venture on the south side of the Thames, a few minutes from Tower Bridge, opposite the Tower of London, along from HMS Belfast. I don’t think there’s any other theatre with such a selection of iconic views from its front door. Inside, there’s a wide bar/reception area that leads to the circle and galleries, and stairs down to the stalls. Inside it’s very comfortable, with a great rake and terrific sightlines, as the rows are slightly staggered so that you don’t have someone else’s big head right in your line of vision. Our interval glass of Minervois was exceptionally tasty; my only criticism is that the box office was closed at the end of the show, even though it’s an extension of the bar area, where people were still working. There were at least four people, maybe more (including myself) who hung around waiting for someone to come so that we could buy a copy of the playscript (and after all, it’s not until after the show that you really know whether you want to buy a copy or not) – but alas no one appeared. That was at least £40 worth of sales they missed out on. Still, what a great theatre!

Its inaugural production is Young Marx, from the pen of Richard Bean (who seems to be unstoppable with his writing at the moment) in collaboration with Clive Coleman. Yes, even that towering, intimidating, bewhiskered old commie Karl Marx was once a young roister-doister. Penniless and thoroughly amoral, he steals from his wife to get money from the pawnbrokers, sleeps with the maid and then passes her child off as someone else’s, hides from his creditors, and from the law; even causes a fight in the library. He’s an appalling procrastinator; his pal Engels begs him to knuckle down and write his Magnum Opus that will change the lives of working people for ever more; but he’d sooner go out and get drunk. The play lets us into his chaotic life; his relationship with his wife (not good); with Engels (very good); and with his children (extremely good). It emerges that there is a spy in the midst of their political gatherings, but who is it?

To be honest, we don’t particularly care, as the play is much more character-driven than plot-driven, and all the better for it, I feel. Mark Thompson’s gloomy revolving set provides a strong evocation of the poverty-stricken streets of London, and the Marx’s spartan apartment; and contrasts with Grant Olding’s rock-style incidental music, which deliberately clashes anachronistically with the 19th century story, startling and unsettling the audience with its constant interruptions. Messrs Bean and Coleman provide Marx with a couple of farcical fight and flight scenes, just to create a larger than life sense and to distance the story from reality a little bit more – even though almost everything that takes place in the play did actually happen for real. It must be said, that first fight scene was clumsy and ineffective; Mrs Chrisparkle feared she was going to be in for a very tedious afternoon. But she needn’t have worried. Everything else afterwards worked well; and the second fight scene, in the library, is simply hilarious and superbly executed.

Rory Kinnear is perfect casting as Marx. He has that knowing air; that look that weighs up the difference between the sensible and the mischievous but will always go for the mischievous, just because he can. Switching effortlessly between faux-sincerity and childish naughtiness, he manages to keep one step ahead of the law but not necessarily ahead of his wife. He has brilliant comic timing; his scenes with the excellent Laura Elphinstone as Nym, where he’s having to cover up his infidelities, are a joy. Oliver Chris’ Engels is another superb performance, bright, polite and cheery, full of decency to compare with his pal’s lack of it. Nancy Carroll, whom we last saw as the delightfully naughty Maggie in Woyzeck, gives a great portrayal of his long-suffering wife Jenny, dispensing kindness to all and sundry apart from her wretched husband. Tony Jayawardena, hilarious as Mr Bhamra in Bend it Like Beckham, again shows his fantastic ability to get the best humour from throwaway lines as Doc Schmidt. If you think the receptionists at your GP can be occasionally indiscreet when blurting out your symptoms to a full waiting room, just be grateful you don’t have Schmidt treating your venereal disease.

I also really enjoyed the performance of Eben Figueiredo as the servile and over-enthusiastic Konrad Schramm. Mr Figueiredo was one of the few good things about Chichester’s Pitcairn a few years ago, so it’s good to see him in a show worth his talent! And the always entertaining Miltos Yerolemou is on top form as the grumpy French revolutionary, Emmanuel Barthelemy, with his constant translation issues. In the performance we saw, Marx’s children, Qui Qui and Fawksey, were played by Matilda Shapland and Logan Clark and a jolly fine job they did of it too. But the entire cast works extremely well together as a very fluid and entertaining ensemble.

The whole thing is played for laughs from the start to the finish. Serious students of political ideology need not apply. But if you like to see Marx hiding from his enemies in a cupboard or on the roof, or witness Marx and Engels nick a gate from a park and then pee up a wall together like naughty schoolboys, you’re on to a winner. It runs at the Bridge Theatre until 31st December. Good fun, highly entertaining – and a lovely new theatre to explore!

Review – Bend It Like Beckham, Phoenix Theatre, 10th February 2016

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I’ll be honest with you, gentle reader. I really didn’t want to see Bend It Like Beckham. I really enjoyed the film, and remember it fondly; and my reaction when I heard it was being made into a stage musical was Why Can’t They Leave It Alone and Why Don’t They Write Musicals With Brand New Source Material Anymore. So I didn’t book it. However, I saw that it won the Critics’ Circle award for Best New Musical, and that Mr Mark Shenton of The Stage whose opinion I greatly value said it was the best thing since sliced naan, and one of Mrs Chrisparkle’s colleagues said they saw it a week ago and absolutely loved it. So I cut myself a huge slice of Humble Pie and booked to see it just in time, given that it’s closing on March 5th.

My original decision not to see it earlier must count as one of my poorest decisions in theatregoing history. This is a completely joyous show. You come out of the theatre with a spring in your step and an aorta full of love. It’s one of those rare instances where the cast and creative team’s affection for their project runs right through it like a stick of Bombay rock. It’s perfectly cast from the top to the bottom, the songs and arrangements are catchy and memorable, and whilst there is an element of stereotyping in some of the characters, it never strays into caricature and is both completely believable and recognisable. Its themes are timeless; its message uplifting.

Do you remember the original film? We’re back in 2001 and David Beckham is at the height of his sporting prowess. Jess, from a Sikh family living in Southall, is mad on him, and on playing football in general. Unbeknownst to her, she has been spotted by Jules, another soccer mad girl, who plays for the local Hounslow Harriers team. Jules arranges for Jess to get a trial with coach Joe, who is quietly impressed, and soon she is a vital part of the team. But all this tomboyishness is out of synch with Jess’s parents, Mr and Mrs Bhamra, who are keen to impress the family of their other daughter Pinky’s husband-to-be, the snooty Chopras. When Jess is forbidden to play football anymore, she is torn between her natural obligation to obey her parents and her desire to fulfil her talents. But does sari have to be the hardest word? (Apologies for that one). There is a solution – as the song says, at times everyone has to bend it. But what does Jess do? You’ll have to go and see it to find out.

I reckon everyone at some point in their life has had to make a decision to follow their dream or to follow their obligations or what society requires. So Jess’s dilemma is something we can all recognise. Do you fit in, and keep the peace, or do you “be yourself” and go where your heart leads? It isn’t always an easy decision. The Bhamras are a very traditional family – and even Mr Bhamra himself knows all about giving up on one’s dreams in order to do The Right Thing. But parents always know best, don’t they? Just like in Fiddler on the Roof, the older generation prizes Tradition, but the younger generation questions it; it was ever thus. And whilst we’re comparing this show with other musicals, I was delighted to see BILB even had its own version of an Oklahoma-style dream ballet sequence, where Jess suddenly finds herself transported to a soccer pitch, alone with David Beckham – although not in the traditional romantic sense, as Beckham shows her how to kick that curved ball. For Jess, that is definitely the dream come true.

The show has much to say about cross-cultural liaisons – of all types – and it brilliantly depicts them in its fusion of eastern and western musical styles and dances. Done haphazardly, this could be an absolute dog’s dinner. But the amazing side-by-side sequences of wedding celebrations and football celebrations are a perfect visual mix up of the two cultures, and the use of typical Indian instruments as part of the traditional West End band creates a musical unity for your ears; as does using both Hindi and English words to the same melody. It all works incredibly well.

Musically, of course, this is a brilliant show – you would expect nothing less with the music written by The Hired Man’s Howard Goodall, and lyrics by Phantom’s Charles Hart. The orchestration is infectious and full of character. Miriam Buether’s set is fun and authentic (although I wish there had been a way to change the score in the Hamburg match!) Katrina Lindsay’s costumes are superb, reflecting the different cultures and styles; and I particularly liked the sassy dresses the team change into for a night on the town, especially the one worn by Jules – Mrs C would look amazing in that.

But what really impressed me from the start were the superb performances from absolutely every member of the cast. Natalie Dew is simply brilliant as Jess; fun-loving, wide-eyed and awkward, a delightful trace of naughtiness, enthusiastic, and loving every minute of it. And she’s a stunning singer. Lauren Samuels is perfect as Jules, with her no-nonsense spirit wrestling with her internalised desires and sparring with a difficult mother. She’s also a stunning singer. Natasha Jayetileke is hugely entertaining as the domineering Mrs Bhamra – constantly making demands of her daughters whilst you know deep down she has a heart of gold; raising the significance of an aloo gobi to an art form. And guess what – she’s also a stunning singer. Preeya Kalidas is simply hilarious as the gorgeously vacuous Pinky, finding romance behind the bushes and squeaking out her innits. You won’t be surprised to learn she’s a stunning singer. And Sophie-Louise Dann creates a wonderful anxious mess of a mother in the character of Paula, with a voice like Joe Pasquale’s secret love child, agonising magnificently over the word “lesbian”, and, naturally, singing stunningly.

And what of the chaps? Tony Jayawardena is a brilliant Mr Bhamra, reducing the audience to hysteria with the comic timing of his throwaway lines, balancing beautifully the character’s sense of The Right Thing with his own understanding of human emotions – I thought he was terrific. For our performance, the role of Tony was taken by Rakesh Boury, Jess’s playtime pal and support – delightfully gangly and uncomfortable, and with his own very nicely confessed revelations – hashtag awks. An excellent performance. Jamie Muscato brought genuine warmth and decency to the role of Joe, and he really conveys the scariness of interacting with Jess’s family when they don’t want to hear what he has to say. Raj Bajaj is a fantastically goofy Teetu, giving it large at the engagement party; intellectually a perfect match for Pinky; strictly speaking, he really should be called Perky.

The fantastic ensemble includes Irvine Iqbal and Sohm Kapila as Teetu’s marvellously haughty parents, Harveen Mann, Buckso Dhillon-Woolley among the wonderfully busybody aunties, and the best-looking team of footballers I’ve ever seen. Everyone gives their all, everyone’s a great dancer, everyone’s hugely committed to the show. The onstage joy spills out into the auditorium – in fact in the interval, I saw a guy in the bar doing his version of Teetu’s dance – it was quite impressive! One of those occasions when you leave the theatre a better person from the one you went in. You’ve got until March 5th to see it – and I reckon that last night performance is going to be One Swell Party. A privilege to be there – one of the best shows I’ve ever seen.

P.S. It’s been years since I’ve been to the Phoenix Theatre – 32 years to be precise! I’d forgotten how charming it is.