tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-309088212024-02-07T07:35:05.053+00:00Russell's Theatre ReviewsI get dragged to the theatre reguarly and I'll be posting my thoughts on the goodies, the baddies and the downright bloody awfuls here. There will be fear and trembling in London's West End as I sharpen my knife and prepare to expound. Expect nothing but my uninformed opinions.Me!http://www.blogger.com/profile/08641946731096944403noreply@blogger.comBlogger239125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30908821.post-41902769457350240262014-11-01T22:56:00.001+00:002014-11-01T22:56:23.221+00:00The Wanderer returnsWell, if there are any of you left out there in review land - apologies. I had to move away from home for what turned out to be six long months to allow some building work to take place and its all taken a lot longer than expected and been a lot more traumatic - plus I have basically been living in a whole in the ground where there was no internet signal. And what with all that plus a demanding full time job and not being able to get online other than rushing home from work to the library once or twice a week for an hour at most, its been difficult - nay, practically impossible - to post reviews. There has also been a marked falling off on theatre trips over the last six months, mainly because I felt I was reaching saturation point with the theatre and it was becoming much harder to whip up the enthusiasm or the creativity necessary to blog a decently entertaining review. So, a few trips to report on over the next couple of weeks in the form of mini reviews as a catch up exercise, and then hopefully things may start returning to normal.Me!http://www.blogger.com/profile/08641946731096944403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30908821.post-14549032831383256282014-06-12T22:43:00.001+01:002014-06-12T22:45:24.742+01:00The Pajama Game - Shaftesbury Theatre, Saturday 31st June 2014Synopsis:<br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">A strike is imminent at the Sleep-Tite Pajama Factory, where the workers churn out pajamas at a backbreaking pace. In the middle of this, a new superintendent, Sid Sorokin, has come from out of town to work in the factory. The union, led by Prez, is seeking a wage raise of seven and a half cents an hour. Sid and Babe are in opposite camps, yet romantic interest is sparked at their first encounter. Despite cajoling from her fellow garment workers, Babe appears to reject Sid. Meanwhile, Hines, the popular efficiency expert, is in love with Gladys, the company president's secretary, but is pushing her away with his jealous behavior. After witnessing a fight between the couple, Sid's secretary, Mabel, tries to help Hines break from his jealous ways.. Meanwhile, Sid, rejected again by Babe, is forced to confide his feelings to a dictaphone.</span> </blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">During the annual company picnic,Prez chases after Gladys, who rejects his advances, a drunken Hines demonstrates his knife throwing act (these knives are thrown at Babe), and Babe warms up to Sid. As the picnic-goers head home, Prez turns his attentions to Mae, who responds in the positive far more quickly and aggressively than he'd expected. At Babe's home, Sid's romantic overtures are deflected by Babe, who makes casual conversation on tangential subjects.. Eventually the walls come down between the two, who admit their love for one another, but their estrangement is reinforced when they return to the factory. A slow-down is staged by the union, strongly supported by Babe. Sid, as factory superintendent, demands an "honest day's work" and threatens to fire slackers. Babe, however, is still determined to fight for their cause, and kicks her foot into the machinery, causes a general breakdown and Sid reluctantly fires her. As she leaves, he begins to wonder again whether a romance with her is a mistake</span> </blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">At the Union meeting, Gladys performs for the rest of the union, with "the boys from the cutting room floor" After the main meeting, the Grievance Committee meets at Babe's house, to discuss further tactics, such as mismatching sizes of pajamas and sewing the fly-buttons onto the bottoms such that they are likely to come off and leave their wearer pants-less. At the meeting, as Prez and Mae's relationship is waning, Sid arrives and tries to smooth things over with Babe. Despite her feelings for Sid, she pushes him away</span> </blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Back at the factory, the girls reassure Hines, who is personally offended by the slow down.. Sid, now convinced that Babe's championship of the union is justified, takes Gladys out for the evening to a night club, "Hernando's Hideaway" , where he wheedles the key to the company's books from her. Hines and Babe each discover the pair and assume they are becoming romantically involved. Babe storms out, and Hines believes his jealous imaginings have come true.</span> </blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Using Gladys' key, Sid accesses the firm's books and discovers that the boss, Hasler, has already tacked on the extra seven and one-half cents to the production cost, but has kept all the extra profits for himself.</span> </blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">In Gladys' office, Hines, still jealous out of his mind, flings knives past Sid and Gladys (deliberately missing, he claims), narrowly missing an increasingly paranoid Mr. Hasler. After detaining Hines, Sid then brings about Hasler's consent to a pay raise and rushes to bring the news to the Union Rally, already in progress. This news brings peace to the factory and to his love life, allowing him to reconnect with Babe. Everyone goes out to celebrate—at Hernando's Hideaway.</span></blockquote>
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Cast:<br />
Babe Williams: Joanna Riding<br />
Sid Soronkin: Michael Xavier<br />
Vernon Hines: Peter Polycarpou<br />
Gladys: Alexis Owen-Hobbs<br />
Hasler: Colin Stinton<br />
Prez: Eugene McCoy<br />
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Creative Team:<br />
Words and music: Richard Adler and Jerry Ross<br />
Book: George Abbott and Richard Bissell<br />
Director: Richard Eyre<br />
Choreographer: Stephen Mear<br />
Set and costumes: Tim Hatley<br />
Lighting: Howard Harrison<br />
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There's an old saying in the theatre review world - "never go to see a show when you are feeling ill, because it will colour your review". OK, I made that up, but you get my drift. Having obviously caught the mother of all colds in the head when getting drenched by passing cars and pouring rain and then sitting in an unheated, half finished apartment block facing directly on to the river watching Venice Preserved (how I suffer to bring you these reviews; I hope you appreciate them....) the lurgy was still washing round my system big time on Saturday when I was dragged to see a show I knew little of and wasn't feeling particularly enthusiastic about to begin with, having sat in a coffee shop nearby wrapped in misery, snot and cold sweat for half an hour beforehand because we got there too early. This is Him Indoors' major foible (well, one of them - go anywhere else with him and its all "Why are you hurrying? Why are you walking so fast?" but when there are theatre tickets involved its like a bloody route march, '<i>eft </i>right, '<i>eft </i>right, '<i>eft </i>right, come on you there with the runny nose, at the bleedin' double. Bugger only knows why we had gone to see it; I keep pushing for tickets to Handbagged because I could do with a bloody good laugh, but it looks like I am going to have to tell the bank I have spent this month's mortgage money on tickets and damned well buy them myself. Grouch grouch grouch. But anyway, at least it made a change from sitting at home wrapped in a blanket in front of the TV (if I say this enough times, I might persuade myself). It looked like we were the youngest people there by a long way - grey heads and beige windcheaters aplenty in the stalls; Stan and Ethel in the seats directly in front of us were just finishing their supper from a wide variety of Tupperware containers, a party of old dears with walking sticks ambled past looking like a small flock of taupe flamingos and there were many old chaps wearing brown slacks and those shoes that look like Cornish Pasties. Oh no, I lie - there was a woman in the seats behind with two grandchildren aged about 10, who were already bored stiff, kicking the backs of our seats and bemoaning the fact that they were being expected to spend the next two hours out of mobile phone contact with their friends. The two grandchildren were probably on contract to help out the orchestra as they supplied rhythmic seat kicking, musical drink slurping and acoustic chewing gum accompaniment for the majority of the first half, little darlings, until Grannie threatened them with ex-communication and the fires of hell if they didn't behave themselves, which improved the situation no end for about 12 minutes. Two tickets for the ferry, Charon, singles, have them ready, customers coming your way....<br />
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What I found so bizarre about this show was how unapologetically old-fashioned it was. Call me a cynic, but it does seem really strange that a wonderful, intelligent show like <a href="http://russells-theatre-reviews.blogspot.co.uk/2014/01/from-here-to-eternity-shaftesbury.html"><i>From Here to Eternity</i></a> more or less crashes and burns, when a bit of old hokum like this is packing them in. I dunno, perhaps the theatregoing public are a lot older and less discriminating than I thought. Perhaps they are all sitting at home in their beige cardigans watching <i>Last of The Summer Wine</i> re-runs and waiting for a new production of an old warhorse like <i>The Pajama Game</i> to be announced, at which point they nip to Rene in the High Street for a wash and set, pack up some sandwiches in Tupperware boxes and head to the West End. Its not a <i>bad </i>show, just so dated. At one point not more than 10 minutes into the first act, I leaned across to Him Indoors and whispered "Well, I <i>wonder </i>what is going to happen at the end?" It is, of course, bleeding obvious, even if you have never seen the show before in your life. The storyline is, more or less, non-existent and really only serves as a loose framework for the musical numbers - some of which even I am forced to admit are bloody good - <i>You with the Stars in Your Eyes</i>, <i>This is My Once-a-Year Day</i>, and <i>Hernando's Hideaway</i> are all justly famous, with <i>Seven and a Half Cents</i> probably being the best number in the entire show and deserving of being known more - its a big chorus number and looked a lot of fun to be in. Some numbers are very dodgy - the execreble <i>There Once Was a Man</i>, for example, and others shoehorned in - <i>Steam Heat </i>only exists to give the second act a rousing opening and the justification for it in is absolutely nil. Obviously creative steam was running low by the time Adler and Ross got round to Act 2 because it consists of very little but reprises of numbers we have already heard at least once in Act 1.<br />
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Most of the performances were likeable enough, but no character really rises above the level of cardboard and very few of the cast seemed to care about even trying so. Eugene McCoy's performance as Prez was so irritating I could happily have smacked him one with a Tupperware box wrested from Ethel's clammy grip (Ethel loved the show; you could tell by the way she turned to Sid every 38 seconds and said so. Loudly). Peter Polycarpou, not my most favourite actor in the entire world, didn't seem to be giving his last performance in the role of Vernon Hines any oof at all - although his "Oh dear, I've taken my trousers off and now the Boss is here and I can't get them back on again" <i>schtick </i>seemed at least to go down well with the horrible grandchildren in the row behind, who momentarily seemed to forget the fact that they weren't on Facebook. Still, I expected they Tweeted about it the moment the curtain came down. Yes, Michael Xavier is good looking in a kind of plastic Barbie-and-Ken way, and yes he can sing, and yes he can move, and yes he has an impressive upper body (displayed pseudo-coyly in a completely unnecessary "get your tits out" moment right at the end) but really, its such a bland role that it was all in danger of going for nothing. <br />
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Really, I couldn't get past the fact that I thought the show was really, really old-fashioned (yes, I know that a lot of people like "old fashioned" but this particular example left me completely cold). Mind you, even an old cynic like me briefly warmed to it when Him Indoors welled up on the way back to the bus stop because it was the kind of show that his mum and dad would have loved. No doubt Ethel and Sid had a great time as well, but I didn't. <br />
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What the critics said:<br />
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<a href="http://www.telegraph.co.uk/culture/theatre/theatre-reviews/10828149/The-Pajama-Game-Shaftesbury-Theatre-review-pure-pleasure.html">http://www.telegraph.co.uk/culture/theatre/theatre-reviews/10828149/The-Pajama-Game-Shaftesbury-Theatre-review-pure-pleasure.html</a><br />
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<a href="http://www.theguardian.com/stage/2014/may/13/the-pajama-game-richard-eyre-review">http://www.theguardian.com/stage/2014/may/13/the-pajama-game-richard-eyre-review</a><br />
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<a href="http://www.dailymail.co.uk/tvshowbiz/reviews/article-2630575/The-Pajama-Game-review-The-terrific-score-saves-Richard-Eyes-breeze-production.html">http://www.dailymail.co.uk/tvshowbiz/reviews/article-2630575/The-Pajama-Game-review-The-terrific-score-saves-Richard-Eyes-breeze-production.html</a><br />
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<a href="http://www.ft.com/cms/s/2/5f7a697e-db50-11e3-b112-00144feabdc0.html#axzz34Sng4iIA">http://www.ft.com/cms/s/2/5f7a697e-db50-11e3-b112-00144feabdc0.html#axzz34Sng4iIA</a><br />
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<br />Me!http://www.blogger.com/profile/08641946731096944403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30908821.post-37133458390841660532014-06-02T23:32:00.001+01:002014-06-03T00:11:03.317+01:00Venice Preserved - Greenwich/Deptford Riverfront - Saturday 24th May 2014<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Synopsis;</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #444444; color: white; font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 22.399999618530273px;">The play concerns Jaffeir, a noble Venetian </span><span style="line-height: 22.399999618530273px;">who has secretly married Belvidera, the daughter of a proud senator named Priuli, who has cut off her inheritance. Jaffeir is impoverished and is constantly rebuffed by Priuli. Jaffeir's friend Pierre, a foreign soldier, stokes Jaffeir's resentment and entices him into a plot against the Senate of Venice. Pierre's own reasons for plotting against the Senate revolve around a senator (a corrupt and foolish Antonio) paying for relations with Pierre's mistress, Aquilina. Despite Pierre's complaints, the Senate does nothing about it, explaining that Antonio has senatorial privilege. Pierre introduces Jaffeir to the conspirators, led by bloodthirsty Renault. To get their trust, he must put Belvidera in Renault's care as a hostage. In the night, Renault attempts to rape her, but she escapes to Jaffeir. Jaffeir then tells Belvidera about the plot against the Senate, and against her father. She devises a plan of her own. Jaffeir will reveal the </span>conspiracy<span style="line-height: 22.399999618530273px;"> to the Senate and claim the lives of the conspirators as his reward. It is only after Belvidera informs him of the attempted rape that Jaffeir agrees to do this, but the Senate breaks its word and condemns all the conspirators to death. In remorse for betraying his friend and losing his honour (by betraying his oath to the conspirators), Jaffeir threatens to kill Belvidera, unless she can get a pardon for the conspirators. She does so, but the pardon arrives too late. Jaffeir visits Pierre at his execution. Pierre is crestfallen because he is sentenced to die a dishonourable death and not the death of a soldier. He forgives Jaffeir and whispers to him (unheard by the audience) to kill him honourably before he is executed. Jaffeir stabs his friend, Pierre, on the gallows, and as a form of </span>atonement<span style="line-height: 22.399999618530273px;"> commits suicide. Belvidera then goes </span>insane<span style="line-height: 22.399999618530273px;"> and dies.</span></span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: #444444; color: white; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;">Cast:</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: #444444; color: white; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;">Aquilina: Ayesha Antoine</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: #444444; color: white; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;">Belvidera - Jessie Buckley</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: #444444; color: white; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;">Antonio - Pip Donaghy</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: #444444; color: white; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;">Pruli - Emilo Doorgasingh</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: #444444; color: white; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;">Doge: James Hillier</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: #444444; color: white; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;">Pierre: - Ferdinand Kingsley</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: #444444; color: white; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;">Eliot - Dwane Wallcot</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: #444444; color: white; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;">Creative Team:</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: #444444; color: white; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;">Original text: Thomas Ottaway</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: #444444; color: white; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;">Director: Charlotte Westenra (does she have a sister called <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lucy_Westenra">Lucy</a>, perhaps?)</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: #444444; color: white; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;">Producer: Harry Ross</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #444444; color: white; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;">Designer: Helen Scarlett Oneill</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #444444; color: white; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;">Costume: Francesca Reidy</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #cccccc; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;">Lighting: Tim Lutkin</span></div>
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Firstly, an apology to all my readers for my lack of posts recently. There have been some major changes going on at RTR Towers, including a change of address, which is always timeconsuming and stressful. And there have been some staffing issues as well and yadah yadah yadah.</div>
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So, it has to be admitted that I wasn't really feeling great; the very muggy weather was making me feel foul and I was nursing a bad chill. And I was therefore knackered, and not in the very best of moods. And Him Indoors applied his usual poultice to the situation which is "To solve any problem, buy theatre tickets". Apparently this was a promenade performance on the riverfront between Deptford and Greenwich, and as we are currently living in Blackheath (dharling) for a while, it was relatively nearby. But because I wasn't entirely sure of where it was happening, and Him Indoors had even less idea (bless him, when he says that something is on the right, it is always best to check whether he means the right that is on the right hand side, or the right that just happens to be on the left hand side), I decided to hit the internet and look up buses and directions and stupid, inconsequential stuff like that because I didn't fancy walking for miles getting lost in the rain when I wasn't feeling great. For some reason, the venue appeared to be a partially completed apartment block overlooking the Deptford Riverfront. Odd. Never fear, said Him Indoors, I will fire up the trusty GPS on the phone and we will be fine. Which we would have been had not said trusty GPS packed up completely somewhat less than 30 seconds after we had got off the bus. I stood there and folded my arms and pulled "that face" - the one that communicates "I am not very impressed". By this point there was a fight going on outside one of the local boozers (bit rough, Deptford, <a href="http://www.crimelibrary.com/notorious_murders/famous/christopher_marlowe/index.html">always has been</a>) so it was time to move quickly. "Follow me", said Him Indoors, coming over all Bear Grylls. "But we are looking for a wharf", I said, "and the river is that way [pointing over my shoulder in the exact opposite of the direction that Him Indoors was walking off]". I pulled "that face" again. Him Indoors turned round, shook his phone, stuffed it in a pocket and set off in the direction of the river. </div>
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Off we set, intrepid explorers both, along a very dodgy looking street leading towards the river. From the doors and windows of nearby houses, modern-day equivalents of the Artful Dodger and Bill Sykes peered at us walking by. Aside from us, the street was deserted. And then after about 10 minutes the scenery changed suddenly and we were walking between tidy little houses with tubular red exterior trim in streets called "Spinnaker Street" and "Frigate Mews" and "HeaveYourBreakfastOverTheSide" Close and such like. The cracked and fissured tarmac changed to designer cobbles. We rounded a small green area with the fantastic name of "Twinkle Park", which smelled vaguely of piss making me wonder aloud whether someone had been having a tinkle in the Twinkle. Our destination - a half finished apartment block - hove (heaved?) into sight. A small car roared by, far too fast for the restricted space, drove through an enormous puddle and drenched me from head to foot. I was not happy, and gave chase, brandishing my umbrella. The driver (female), screamed abuse from her window and then wound it up and put the pedal to the metal because I was getting closer and wasn't at all happy - serves her right, stupid cow, but it must have been like being chased down by an angry bull elephant. We picked our way down a small alley paved with designer cobbles (terribly hard on the old ankle) where, Wonderland-like, a small carved table stood alone in the middle of the street. A rather over-enthusiastic girl in vaguely "all purpose peasant" costume bounded out of a door and sold us a sheet of paper from the shelf underneath the table. There was a gust of wind which funneled down the narrow street, picked up every sheet of paper and threw them across the pavement. All-purpose Peasant Girl spent the next couple of minutes chasing them. I picked up a large pebble and put them on top of the pile to weight them down. My expression said "See? Not difficult". </div>
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We found ourselves on a terraced walkway directly adjoining the river, more or less alone, with a view along the river to Greenwich in the middle distance. Authentic 17th century Venetian rain began to fall. Gradually, other people joined us, and then various cast members in costume. Him Indoors found himself chatting to an Old Pro Actor (completely in his element, then) and maundered on about how he was in the Profession himself and oh yes, I've seen this play before, it was the 1984 production starring Sir Bingley Bongley Boo and nobody could hear him and someone shouted out "Speak up luv, we can't hear a word" and oooooh, I do like your codpiece and yadah yadah yadah and I rolled my eyes and huddled into my coat and then wandered off to buy a programme - which was clever and inventive because it was in the form of a broadsheet newspaper, and which is so pretty that I am thinking about having it framed. </div>
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Anyway, the bits of paper that had blown off the table were A5 sheets printed with various bits of instructions about what to do during the performance and words to shout out during the audience participation bits and so on and, this being Renaissance Venice I decided to make it into a mask. </div>
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Unfortunately, I became so intent on creating my wonderful carnival mask from the paper that I paid scant attention when the first scene began, which was basically two men in period costume shouting at each other. It sounded very much like some of those first scenes in Shakespeare where nothing much happens except that people stride on and shout at each other to give the groundlings time to finish buying their oranges and fish heads and settle down and decide when to eat the former and at whom they are going to throw the latter. Big Mistake. Huge. For this play is, apparently, One In Which The First Scene Is Extremely Important; If You Don't Listen Carefully You Won't Have A Scooby About What Happens Afterwards. But, intent in my work of creativity, I blithely ignore the two shouting men, even though did register that the one with the beard and the big brown eyes was Bloody Sexy. A woman walked on and began to emote. I noticed that her dress was coming apart at the back and falling off her shoulders but carried on tearing and creasing the paper and making holes at each side so that I could put my glasses on top and thus keep it on without holding it. The man with the beard, I noticed, looked Bloody Sexy in his black leather jerkin. There - my carnival mask is finished. I put it on triumphantly and then realised that I hadn't got an effing clue what was going on. Never mind - its time to move on, to an interior courtyard with a small canal running along it, over which was thrown a scaffolding bridge disguised as the Rialto Bridge. Clever - and wonderfully, the acoustics here were so perfect that I could hear every word and there were a couple of minutes when I thought I might actually have picked up on the plot. Alas, it was not to be. And then we moved inside the incomplete apartment block and watched a couple of very long, dreary scenes and I gave up trying to follow the plot completely and just sat and watched and felt damp and cold and Not Very Well At All. And then there was an interval during which I asked Him Indoors to explain the plot and, not being very articulate about these things, bless him, I had to ask him to stop after a couple of minutes because I couldn't work out who "Him from that play that we saw about five years ago somewhere - you know, the one that had that woman in, whatshername" was and what his character was called and so I gave up. </div>
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And then it was time to move to a different bit of the unfinished apartment block, this time a bit overlooking the river and the lights of Canary Wharf and we all got a red hooded cape to wear and pretend to be Members of The Senate, which would have been interesting if we could have seen ourselves but because we were the audience we couldn't, although I'm sure the actors thought we looked great. And Jessie Buckley came on and emoted a lot and I got colder and colder and more miserable and still didn't understand the plot. And then we moved outside and watched the Sexy Man with the Beard and the Black Leather Jerkin get stabbed (shame about the disco boat going past on the river at this point - not calculated to add to the authentic 17th Century Venetian atmosphere) and then we moved again and watched Jessie Buckley go mad, although from where I was sitting I couldn't see that there were images being projected onto the plate glass frontage but anyway by this time I was frozen to the marrow and bored and not happy at all. And then despite everyone standing on an enormous terrace overlooking the river, the cast came on and had to take their bows in a very cramped space wedged up against the wall of the building and it was time to go home, pausing only to have a blazing row on the way to the bus stop. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Undoubtedly this is a clever production. The setting is extremely unusual and intelligently thought out, and very well used (would you think about putting on a play in an unfinished apartment block?). Undoubtedly there is some very fine acting going on - particularly from Jessie Buckley who is becoming a very fine actress indeed, from Ashley Zhangazha who has the most perfect diction, every syllable as clear and audible as a glass bell, and from Ferdinand Kingsley who, besides being a very good actor, is also One Horny Dude and Hairy With It. Undoubtedly the concept is intriguing and the execution of the production very clever. But. I was too cold and feeling too rotten to engage with it in any meaningful way. <i>Venice Preserved</i> isn't the world's best play, and if you are not a fan of Restoration Revenge Tragedy it won't really be your bag. The audience participation bits are embarrassing (this is <i>England</i>, for pete's sake) and the Commedia Dell'arte sections just plain irritating. The constant movement from one place to another effectively destroys any build up of tension - just as things are starting to get interesting, its time to move on, and when there are 150 or so people to move, this can take quite some time; by the time you are all resettled, the tension has deflated like a flan in a cupboard. Some of the costumes are lovely, some look as if they have been picked up out of the dressing up box. As a concept its very interesting, but in reality it doesn't really work. </div>
</div>
<br />
What the critics thought:<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.timeout.com/london/theatre/venice-preservd">http://www.timeout.com/london/theatre/venice-preservd</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.whatsonstage.com/london-theatre/reviews/05-2014/venice-preservd-paynes-and-borthwick-wharf_34314.html">http://www.whatsonstage.com/london-theatre/reviews/05-2014/venice-preservd-paynes-and-borthwick-wharf_34314.html</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.theguardian.com/stage/2014/may/01/venice-preservd-spectators-guild-review">http://www.theguardian.com/stage/2014/may/01/venice-preservd-spectators-guild-review</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://partially-obstructed-view.blogspot.co.uk/2014/04/theatre-review-venice-preservd.html">http://partially-obstructed-view.blogspot.co.uk/2014/04/theatre-review-venice-preservd.html</a><br />
<br />
<br /></div>
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/pStj3MiXdyk" width="560"></iframe>Me!http://www.blogger.com/profile/08641946731096944403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30908821.post-39898705721133697752014-04-27T12:30:00.001+01:002014-04-27T12:30:37.436+01:00A View from the Bridge – Young Vic, Saturday 3rd April 2014<span style="font-family: inherit;">Synopsis: </span><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></div>
<blockquote>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Alfieri, an Italian-American lawyer in his fifties, enters
the stage and sits in his office. Talking from his desk to the audience, he
introduces the story of Eddie Carbone. Alfieri compares himself to a lawyer in
Caesar's time, powerless to watch as the events of history run their bloody
course.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">As Eddie enters his
home two fellow Longshoremen, Mike and Louis, greet him. Eddie's niece,
Catherine, reaches out the window and waves to them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Eddie scolds Catherine for flirting with the
boys so blatantly. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Beatrice (Eddie’s partner) convinces Eddie to
let Catherine take a job as a stenographer down by the docks. Eddie informs
Beatrice that her cousins, Marco and Rodolpho, will be arriving from Italy that
night. Beatrice and Eddie plan to hide Marco and Rodolpho who plan to work in
the country illegally to send money home.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Marco tells them that
he has three children and a wife back home that he will be sending money to.
Rodolpho, his young blonde brother, has no family and intends to stay in the
country as long as possible. Rodolpho entertains everyone with his version of
the jazz tune, "Paper Doll."</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">In the following weeks, Rodolpho and Catherine spend a great
deal of time together, which worries Eddie. Eddie thinks that Rodolpho is
untrustworthy and<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>becomes jealous of the
time that Rodolpho spends with Catherine, telling her that <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Rodolpho just wants to marry her to in order
to get his Green Card and become a legal citizen, but she does not listen.
Rodolpho develops a reputation at the docks for being quite a joker, which further
embarrasses Eddie. Beatrice becomes <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>more
aware than ever of the attention Eddie is giving Catherine and <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>encourages Catherine to get married to
Rodolpho if that is what she wants to do. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Eddie, still frustrated, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>visits Alfieri and asks if there is any way he
can get rid of Rodolpho by law, but Alfieri assures him there is not. Alfieri
tells Eddie that he needs to let Catherine go.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Eddie becomes increasingly jealous of Rodolpho and resents <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>the fact that Rodolpho thinks Catherine is
looser than Italian girls. He threatens Rodolpho in a pretend boxing match,
which is stopped by Catherine and Beatrice.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Time passes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Rodolpho
and Catherine are left alone in the house and have sex . <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Eddie comes home drunk and <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>kisses Catherine, then pins Rodolpho to the
floor and kisses him as well. He visits Alfieri <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>again, who repeatedly tells him to let Catherine
go her own way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Instead, Eddie calls the
Immigration Bureau and reports the two men as illegal aliens. Immigration
officials arrive and arrest them. As he is being taken away, Marco spits in
Eddie's face. Alfieri pays bail for the two men and arranges the marriage
between Catherine and Rodolpho. On the day of the wedding, Marco returns to the
house for revenge. Eddie lunges into Marco with a knife. Marco turns<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>the knife on Eddie and kills him.</span><br />
</div>
</blockquote>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
Cast: </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
Marco –Emun Elliott</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
Catherine – Phoebe Fox</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
Alfieri – Michael Gould</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
Louis – Richard Hansell</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
Rodolpho – Luke Norris</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
Eddie – Mark Strong</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
Beatrice – Nicola Walker</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
Creative Team:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
Written by Arthur Miller</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
Director – Ivo van Hove</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
Designer – Jan Versweyveld</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
Costumes – An D’Huys</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
Sound – Tom Gibbons</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: justify;">
Well, peeps, to say that it has
been busy here at RTR Towers is like saying that Claudia Winkelman’s fringe
needs a bit of a trim.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In fact, its been
so bloody hectic that its taken me nearly 3 weeks to find the time (and energy)
to sit down and scribble this.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So my
powers of recall are really being stretched a little here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can’t say that I was really looking forward
to this – Arthur Miller plays don’t exactly have a reputation for being a laugh
a minute, do they?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I surprised
myself by enjoying it rather more than I had expected to, with a fair few
caveats. There were some excellent performances, and the story is gripping, but
the direction is just so bloody up its own arse that I came out thinking that I
had never yet seen anything so effing pretentious – which rather ruined the
evening.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span>Firstly, there’s the set.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or, more correctly, firstly there isn’t the
set.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When you enter the auditorium you
are faced with an enormous grey block which fills the entire acting area.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This, it transpires, is essentially the
curtain – it rises up slowly and more or less disappears into the ceiling,
although there is plenty left of it to obstruct the sightlines of anyone
sitting in the upper gallery.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It reveals
a slightly raised podium, edged on all sides<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>by a calf-high glass wall, on the top of which there is a black ledge.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This surrounds a shiny white floor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is “the set”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is no furniture, no scenery, just the
shiny white floor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Its so stark<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>that it would make minimalism look
cluttered.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I imagine that this is what
Kevin McCloud’s living room looks like.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>However, although it takes a bit of getting used to, I can cope with it
for a couple of hours (there is no interval, folks – go to the toilet
first).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span>Secondly, there’s the
soundtrack.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The opening scene starts and
is accompanied by suitably gothic and portentious music which swells and then
fades away, to be replaced by super-minimalist “music” which basically consists
of a series of loud “doinks” separated by about 8 seconds of silence.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The “doinking” goes on for quite some time,
and then we get some churchy choral singing, then its back to the gothic, which
is followed again by the “doinking” and then repeat ad nauseum all the way to
the bloody end.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now, I am the first to
admit that suitable music during the performance can heighten the scene and add
to the tension and so on and so forth, all well and good – but there is no end
to it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The loop lasts the entire two
hours – and by 45 minutes in you are sitting there thinking “I can’t take any
more of this doinking” and longing for a bit of peace and quiet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After an hour, I was at screaming pitch. Rather
than adding to the atmosphere, the sounds become intrusive; its so insistent
that it becomes annoying and however hard you try to screen it out, there’s no
escaping the fact that in 10 minutes or so, you know you’re due for another
round of doinks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The climax of the play,
which is incredibly dramatic and the kind of moment that produces that
all-encompassing lack of sound in the audience as they hone in on what is
unfolding before their eyes (and which I am wont to describe as “a silence”) is
completely ruined by the soundtrack.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
suspect that half the applause was through sheer relief that the doinking was
finally over.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span>More than slightly odd is the
treatment of the Italian characters.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Two
of them are meant to be literally “just off the banana boat” (or perhaps the
“pasta ship”), yet arrive in New York speaking absolutely faultless cut glass
English while around them the natives are all Noo-Yorking like MaryBeth Lacey
(from Cagney and…..) on speed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span>And then there’s the shoes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or lack thereof.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For some reason, the director has come up
with the concept that nobody wears any. Fully clothed they may be (and
partially clothed occasionally) but its “no shoes anyone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Let’s make this edgy and relevant by not
wearing any shoes or socks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No, I know
it makes no sense, people, but fuck knows what else I am going to do with this
production so we’ll be doing it barefoot”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I mean, WTF is that all about - Apart from uber-wank, of course?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In fact, its all so uber-wank that Him
Indoors found it necessary to express his opinion so loudly on the way out of
the theatre and down the street to the tube station that I had to snap at him
several times to belt up because a) it was highly embarrassing and b) I thought
we were going to get lynched by other audience members who were enthusing about
the production with such twitterati-esque rapture that it was surprising,
frankly, that the pavement wasn’t awash with spunk. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: justify;">
Summary: a fine and gripping
production rendered more or less unbearable by the pretentiousness of the
“concept”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The lack of scenery I could
cope with once I had adjusted to the idea, but the soundtrack is irritating
beyond belief and if you are in any way phobic about other people’s feet,
definitely not one for you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span><o:p></o:p> </div>
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/Sp5CMTEJHdo" width="560"></iframe>
<br />
<br />
What the critics said:<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.independent.co.uk/arts-entertainment/theatre-dance/reviews/a-view-from-the-bridge-young-vic-theatre-review-unforgettable-9258660.html">http://www.independent.co.uk/arts-entertainment/theatre-dance/reviews/a-view-from-the-bridge-young-vic-theatre-review-unforgettable-9258660.html</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.theguardian.com/stage/2014/apr/13/view-from-the-bridge-young-vic-review-mark-strong">http://www.theguardian.com/stage/2014/apr/13/view-from-the-bridge-young-vic-review-mark-strong</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.ft.com/cms/s/2/928958c8-c3ba-11e3-a8e0-00144feabdc0.html#axzz305LSB7XK">http://www.ft.com/cms/s/2/928958c8-c3ba-11e3-a8e0-00144feabdc0.html#axzz305LSB7XK</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.standard.co.uk/goingout/theatre/a-view-from-the-bridge-young-vic--theatre-review-9258350.html">http://www.standard.co.uk/goingout/theatre/a-view-from-the-bridge-young-vic--theatre-review-9258350.html</a><br />
<br />
<br />
Me!http://www.blogger.com/profile/08641946731096944403noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30908821.post-30058349643278152582014-03-16T12:30:00.002+00:002014-03-16T12:33:39.577+00:00Blithe Spirit - Gielgud Theatre, Friday 14th March 2014Synopsis:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Charles Condomine, a successful novelist, wishes to learn about the occult for a novel he is writing, and he arranges for an eccentric medium, Madame Arcati, to hold a séance at his house. At the séance, she inadvertently summons Charles's first wife, Elvira, who has been dead for seven years. Madame Arcati leaves after the séance, unaware that she has summoned Elvira. Only Charles can see or hear Elvira, and his second wife, Ruth, does not believe that Elvira exists until a floating vase is handed to her out of thin air. The ghostly Elvira makes continued, and increasingly desperate, efforts to disrupt Charles's current marriage. She finally sabotages his car in the hope of killing him so that he will join her in the spirit world, but it is Ruth rather than Charles who drives off and is killed.</div>
</blockquote>
<blockquote>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Ruth's ghost immediately comes back for revenge on Elvira, and though Charles cannot at first see Ruth, he can see that Elvira is being chased and tormented, and his house is in uproar. He calls Madame Arcati back to exorcise both of the spirits, but instead of banishing them, she materialises Ruth. With both his dead wives now fully visible, and neither of them in the best of tempers, Charles, together with Madame Arcati, goes through séance after séance and spell after spell to try to exorcise them, and at last Madame Arcati succeeds. Charles is left seemingly in peace, but Madame Arcati, hinting that the ghosts may still be around unseen, warns him that he should go far away as soon as possible. Charles leaves at once, and the unseen ghosts throw things and destroy the room as soon as he has gone.</div>
</blockquote>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<br />
Cast:<o:p></o:p></div>
Edith – Patsy Ferran<o:p></o:p><br />
Ruth – Janie Dee<o:p></o:p><br />
Charles – Charles Edwards<o:p></o:p><br />
Dr. Bradman – Simon Jones<o:p></o:p><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Mrs. Bradman – Serena Evans<o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Madame Artcarti – Angela Lansbury<o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Elvira – Jemima Roper</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: justify;">
Creative Team:<o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Written by: Noel Coward<o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Director : Michael Blakemore<o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Designer – Simon Higlett<o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Lighting – Mark Jonathan<o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Wardrobe – Traipsy Drake (what a name!)<br />
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: justify;">
Working in the back of beyond and living in the burbs, I
don’t often get into <st1:place w:st="on">Central London</st1:place> on a
Friday night. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Which is probably just as
well, as I don’t think I could stand it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Readers, it was chaos.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Pavements
outside every pub were practically impassable, lost tourists stopped in the
middle of the path and consulted maps, couples canoodled and dawdled and wrapped
their tongues round each others tonsils, idiots looking at mobile phones and
iPads wandered<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>aimlessly from one side
of the pavement to the other with eyes fixed on their gadgets, rickshaws
trundled along, vans tried to reverse round corners, pedestrians drifted across
the road willy-nilly, police sirens wailed and from every doorway in Chinatown
came the clang of a different radio station..<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>At several points on the walk from <st1:place w:st="on">Charing Cross</st1:place>
to <st1:street w:st="on"><st1:address w:st="on">Shaftesbury Avenue</st1:address></st1:street>,
Him Indoors drifted in and out of visual contact as I occasionally got caught
up in the melee and lost him in the crowd.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>On <st1:street w:st="on"><st1:address w:st="on">Shaftesbury Avenue</st1:address></st1:street>
itself, just outside the theatre, I got caught up in a particularly intense
eddy of humanity and was literally swept past the door for about <st1:metricconverter productid="50 yards" w:st="on">50 yards</st1:metricconverter>, eventually
managing to save myself by clinging to a tree and waiting until the flow had
subsided.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Dazed, hot and bewildered I
staggered into the foyer resembling Robinson Crusoe washed up on the beach.
Even then I thought that the wildlife had followed me through the door as an
incredibly sour faced<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>chap wearing
trousers of the loudest shade of emerald green I have ever seen waddled by,
leaving me briefly wondering if I was being stalked by a mallard with a face
like a slapped arse.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just by my elbow a
woman practically screamed to her companion “Do you want coffee or champagne in
the interval?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Personally, I thought, I
could do with a couple of valium and a swig of Rescue Remedy if she was
offering, but she didn’t.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So was it all
worth it?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Of course it was.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Angela Lansbury could have stood on the stage
and read from the telephone directory and it would have been worth it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p><br />
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: justify;">
On the face of it, <em>Blithe Spirit</em> is a strange animal to be
inhabiting the <st1:place w:st="on">West End</st1:place>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s a gentle, amusing play without flash or dash,
wasn’t written by Lloyd Webber, isn’t based on a 1980s film and doesn’t feature
animatronic sets that would make <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placename w:st="on">Alton</st1:placename>
<st1:placetype w:st="on">Towers</st1:placetype></st1:place> look like a local
playground.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Its audience isn’t going to
be families with screaming kids nor groups of slaggy girls out on the
lash.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It has a slightly faded, “Home
Counties Rep. Company” air about it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It
is, in fact, a bit of a war horse (as opposed to <em>War Horse</em>).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But it has stood the test of time surprisingly
well as an example of period “drawing room comedy”. (albeit with ghosts)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>and continues to provide endless ladies of a
certain age (Penelope Keith, Felicity Kendall, Joanna Lumley and so on) with
employment and endless audiences of a certain age with entertainment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And, of course, when your Madame Arcarti is a
Broadway Legend as well as Hollywood Royalty, entertainment for endless numbers
of Gentlemen who prefer the company of other Gentlemen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Very high PPSI ratio throughout the
auditorium.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: justify;">
Of the assembled cast, only Jemima Rooper’s Elvira really fails
to shine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her Elvira is not quite classy
enough to have been married to Charles Condomine, a little too earthy and a
little too earthbound.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wasn’t terribly
impressed with the fact that there was no apparent effort to give her an
appropriately ghostly pallor – not only has Elvira been dead for seven years,
but she was recovering from the flu at the time of her death, so a touch of
pale makeup would have been appropriate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The only time she looked really ghostly was whenever she stood in a
particular spot down stage left where the lighting seemed particularly pale, in
contrast to the warmly lit remainder of the stage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The fact that Ms. Rooper is dark-haired
underneath her white wig is unfortunately evidenced by her very dark eyebrows,
making her look a little badgerish.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She
is totally outclassed<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>on the stage by
Janie Dee’s Ruth, looking considerably better coiffed and attired than the last
time I saw her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In fact, if I hadn’t
been told she was Janie Dee, I wouldn’t have recognised her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Charles Edward’s Charles is a perfect
rendition of a part that must be very tempting to over-do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I would imagine that there is a temptation to
make him rather louche and brittle, in the manner of Coward himself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Apparently Rupert Everett played the role on
Broadway before this production transferred to <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">London</st1:place></st1:city>, and I would imagine that he over-did
the role terribly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The minor parts of
Dr. and Mrs. Bradman are well handled, with the part of Mrs. Bradman
particularly well defined. Congratulations are due to Patsy Ferran, making her
professional debut in the tiny but vital role of Edith, the housemaid – what a
production to launch your career with, sharing a stage with a Legend. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: justify;">
They are, of course, only there as padding to support Angela
Lansbury, whom everyone has come to see.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I tell you, you wouldn’t know the woman was well into her 80s.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Despite playing the part of Madame Arcarti as
much younger than she is herself, Lansbury rarely, if ever, shows any that she
is not physically up to the role.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There
were a couple of wobbles with the dialogue – several times you can see she is
fumbling to remember the exact words, and one major clanger dropped when she
gave the date of Daphne’s death (Daphne being her spirit guide) as 1994 rather
than 1884 – but the woman is a natural comedian both physically and verbally
and oozes class from every pore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She
wisely avoids making her Madame Arcarti over-hearty in the style of Margaret
Rutherford, and brings a certain wistful common sense to the role, although she
is perhaps a little too frail physically for the audience to believe that she
has cycled <st1:metricconverter productid="8 miles" w:st="on">8 miles</st1:metricconverter>
to the Condomine’s house (although, again, this was a tiny slip; in the script,
its <st1:metricconverter productid="7 miles" w:st="on">7 miles</st1:metricconverter>).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At times, there is more than a touch of the
Salome Otterbourne about her<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>portrayal,
but who cares?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s a stunning
performance, full of lovely deft touches of comedy timing<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I admit that I did get slightly annoyed with
the audience’s tendency to applaud her every entrance and exit, and wonder
whether she deliberately “wrong footed” the audience at one point by exiting in
her final scene and then suddenly popping back onto the stage halfway through
the applause with an interpolated line (not in the original script) about
wanting another cucumber sandwich.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: justify;">
The nit picker in me noticed quite a few slip ups in terms
of the stage design. In the first scene we hear a cuckoo calling outside the
French windows (and this is commented on in the script), which would make the
action set no later than the end of May, and yet one of the flower vases
contains a sunflower, a species which doesn’t bloom until late July at the
earliest.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There are two vases of flowers
on stage during Act 1, both of which remain untouched and unchanged as the
curtain rises on Act 2 and yet in Act 2, scene 1, (set the next day), Ruth
mentions having done the flowers that morning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Edith is supposed to bring in a tray of bacon, eggs and toast for
breakfast (all of which are referred to in the dialogue), but the toast rack
holds only slices of raw bread.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yes,
yes, I know.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: justify;">
A wonderful evening’s entertainment, well played and
excellently cast.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But the entire show
rightly belongs to Lansbury who takes the audience in the palm of her hand and
walks away with their hearts and minds, for which she rightly and justifiably
received a standing ovation at the final curtain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One final note of approval – there was none
of this “communist bowing” that Him Indoors loathes and always comments on;
Edith the maid takes a solo bow, followed by the Bradmans, then by Ruth and
Elvira, then by Charles and finally Madame Arcarti, giving the audience the
opportunity to show their appreciation by rising from their seats as a single
unit and giving Lansbury the ovation she deserves.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p><br />
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Blythe Spirit officially opens tomorrow - I will post up some reviews, and hopefully a youtube video later in the week. </div>
Me!http://www.blogger.com/profile/08641946731096944403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30908821.post-92098358153699876512014-02-23T23:14:00.001+00:002014-02-23T23:14:08.123+00:00Finian's Rainbow - Union Theatre, Sunday 16th February 2014<div style="text-align: justify;">
Synopsis: </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Finian McLonergan arrives in Rainbow Valley,, with his daughter, Sharon, and a "borrowed" pot of gold. His theory is to plant the gold near Fort Knox. Surely it will multiply just as America's bullion burial has made all Americans rich. They encounter poor sharecroppers who are about to lose their land. Henchmen of Senator Billboard Rawkins are ready to pay back taxes and take over. However, his plan is foiled by Woody, who returns from the big city with the tax money, and by Finian, who covers the hidden charges when Woody cannot. In exchange, Finian gets property rights for enough land to sow his golden dream. </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
While Sharon and Woody are falling in love, Og, a leprechaun, confronts Finian and demands the return of his pot of gold, without which he will start to become human and mortal. But Finian ignores him, as a figment of his imagination. Geologists, working on a secret dam project, detect gold on the sharecroppers' land. Learning this, Rawkins moves in to take the land by force. As he is manhandling a Negro sharecropper, Sharon wishes that Rawkins was black. Unwittingly, she is standing over the magical pot, and her wish is granted. Rawkins dashes into hiding. </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
A telegram arrives from Shears and Robust granting unlimited credit to the people of the gold-rich valley. Woody persuades them to use the credit to buy tractors and equipment to improve the harvest. Without his gold, Og will become mortal. However, his search for the pot is interrupted by Sharon with whom he immediately falls in love. When Shears and Robust arrive to collect for all the merchandise, Woody satisfies them with proof of future profit. The McLonergan economic theory is working, but Sharon is charged with witchcraft and the mysterious disappearance of Rawkins. Og encounters Billboard in the woods and magically improves his disposition.
Arriving back in the Valley, Og encounters Susan the Silent. Love strikes again, only harder. He also learns Sharon is to be burned as a witch unless a white Rawkins can be found. Og believes Susan can tell him where the gold is hidden and so wishes. She talks. He is sitting above the crock. He unearths the pot and makes the final wish that saves Sharon for Woody, but renders himself completely mortal. But Og has Susan. Finian, having proven his theory without a shadow of doubt, moves on to spread joy elsewhere. </blockquote>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Cast: </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Finian McLonegan – James Horne </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Sharon – Christina Bennington </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Og – Raymond Walsh </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Senator Rawkins – Michael Hayes </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Sherrif – David Malcolm </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Woody – Joseph Peters </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Susan – Laura Bella Griffin </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Creative Team: </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Adaptation – Charlotte Moore </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Drector – Phil Willmott </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Choreography – Thomas Michael Voss </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Costumes – Kirk Jameson </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Well, I don’t know what I was expecting and I still don’t know whether I got it or not. What an odd, odd show. I have to say that I think the cast did the best they could with this oddity, which is really neither fish nor fowl. To call the plot “paper thin” is really to insult thin paper. And SUCH a strange story, made even stranger by having to be toned down so as not to offend any sensibilities.
Let’s get it straight – in the show as originally written and performed, Senator Rawkins issues an edict preventing black people and white people from living and working together. He manhandles a black woman (for “manhandle” I suspect “assaults” or even “attempts to rape” would be more accurate). As punishment, he is turned into a black man so that he can experience how black people are treated. This, I suspect, would have Guardian readers the length and breadth of the country rising up in arms, so all three points have been quietly glossed over in this production. Unfortunately, doing so rather takes the wind out of the storyline. Senator Rawkins remains white, and merely becomes “nice” as opposed to “nasty”. This fails to explain to the audience exactly why Rawkins is turned away from his home and put out of a job. Are we supposed to believe that nobody recognises him just because he is wearing a smile instead of a frown? It also fails to explain why he loses his nice clothes and appears after his “transformation” wearing a slightly grubby Tshirt and a pair of tattered jeans. As it is, it makes no sense. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Not that the story makes much sense anyway. A man steals a pot of gold from a leprechaun, and then goes to America to bury it. The leprechaun follows him, discovers women and becomes human. A mute girl finds the pot of gold and acquires the ability to speak. The gold is used to buy a farm, an evil politician is punished by being turned black, learns the error of his ways and everyone lives happily ever after. I mean, what were the writers smoking? Were they going for whimsy or hard hitting social comment? A love story or a supernatural story in the vein of <i>Brigadoon</i>? But with Irish characters instead of Scottish ones? Honestly, there are parts of this that are so hokey with stereotypes (Irish colleens, leprechauns, Boss Hogg-esque Senators, black sharecroppers a la <i>Gone with the Wind</i>) that sitting through it becomes a constant effort not to vomit. The “twee” element is so “twee” that it “out-twees” anything I’ve ever seen. Mind you, the auditorium was so full of stage mist (presumably to make everything look soft focus and dreamy) that for quite some time I couldn’t see much of anything anyway. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And the director missed something – the show is called “<i>Finian’s <b>Rainbow</b></i>” – and nary a rainbow was there in sight, even right at the end when one is supposed to appear with the first drops of rain that Rainbow Valley has apparently seen in some time.. A budget production this may be – but I think there should be some attempt at putting some kind of meteorological effect on the stage, even if it were only made out of strips of coloured paper.
Sometimes, I think it is better that a show slips into theatrical oblivion and dies a quiet death. <i>Finian’s Rainbow</i> is one of those shows. The plot is laughable, has to be changed to fit “modern sensibilities”, and can’t even be filed under “period whimsy” any more.
Presumably set in the late 30s (there are references to the land being worn out through over-cultivation and everyone is hungry, so we are well into <i>Grapes of Wrath</i> territory here), this production has more of a late 40s feel – everyone is nice and clean, tidily and neatly dressed, well shod, recently coiffured and happy. There is little evidence of hunger or misery. Its all nicely sung, and there is lots of dancing. But nothing can hide the utter vacuousness and paucity of the plot. Personally its not something I would care to sit through again. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
What the critics thought:
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
http://www.broadwayworld.com/uk-regional/article/BWW-Reviews-FINIANS-RAINBOW-Union-Theatre-February-14-2014-20140216#.Uwp9Q-N_s1I</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
http://www.timeout.com/london/theatre/finians-rainbow</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
http://www.britishtheatreguide.info/reviews/finian-s-rainbo-union-theatre-9886</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
http://www.thepublicreviews.com/finians-rainbow-union-theatre-london/</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/9o9fbSl5F0w?rel=0" width="560"></iframe>Me!http://www.blogger.com/profile/08641946731096944403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30908821.post-42205456393692760772014-02-20T20:05:00.002+00:002014-02-20T20:05:34.800+00:00A Taste of Honey – National Theatre, Monday 10th February 2014Synopsis:<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Jo is an awkward, shy 17-year-old girl living with her promiscuous alcoholic mother, Helen. Desperately longing to simply be loved, when her mother's latest "romance" drives Jo out of their apartment, she spends the night with a black sailor on a brief shore leave. But when Jo's mother abandons her to move in with her latest lover, Jo finds a job and a room for herself, meets Geoffrey, a shy and lonely homosexual, and allows him to share her flat. When she discovers that she is pregnant with the sailor's child, Geoffrey, grateful for her friendship, looks after her, even offering marriage. Their brief taste of happiness is short-lived for Jo's fickle and domineering mother, her own romantic hopes dashed, appears back on the scene, determined to drive the gentle Geoffrey from the flat and take over the care of her daughter </div>
<br />
Cast:<br />
Helen: Lesley Sharp<br />
Josephine, her daughter – Kate O’Flynn<br />
Peter, her friend – Dean Lennox Kelly<br />
Jimmie, a black sailor – Eric Kofi Abrefa<br />
Geoffrey, a student – Harry Hepple<br />
<br />
Creative Team:<br />
Written by: Shelagh Delaney<br />
Director: Bijan Sheibani<br />
Designer: Hildegard Bechtler<br />
Lighting: Paul Anderson<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
My only reference point for this play up until now had been an old Victoria Wood sketch, in which she bemoans the lack of sex education she got at school – “I thought you could get pregnant walking along the canal while someone played the harmonica, like Rita Tushingham in that film <i>A Taste of Honey</i>”. So I more or less knew it was going to be an “Its grim oop North” kind of play. I’ve still not seen the film – although a lot of the audience obviously had and were therefore purposes of comparison, rather than taking the play on its own merits. I heard a couple of several slightly sniffy comments at the end along the lines of “Well, its not as good as the film”. Well, I’ve got news for them. You have to take a play like this on its own merits, rather than compare it with what it spawned. To compare the play with a film based on it is like, well, comparing a mother and daughter. Yes, they have obvious similarities, but you cannot say that one is better than the other when they are completely different media. And you surely have to look at the play in the light of the fact that it was written by a 17 year old girl from Salford who was taken to the theatre for the first time in her life to see a dreary play by Terence Rattigan and went home afterwards thinking “I can do better than that”. Which she proceeded to do, presumably not yet knowing her upstage right from her downstage left. And which by all accounts was a massive, massive hit on both sides of the Atlantic. I bet Rita Tushingham never managed that. Granted that Delaney was effectively cursed by the play and barely wrote anything of note for the rest of her life, but ask your average 17 year old to write a play and I bet you won’t get anything like this. (In fact, ask your average 17 year old to write a play and they will probably stare blankly at you and ask you what a play is, and is it something to do with Spotify?) Its not <i>Hamlet</i>, but come on….</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Actually, in some respects, its better than <i>Hamlet</i>, because its written with an ear towards the truth. I bet all the characters were based on people that Delaney knew or had seen or had overheard talking on the bus – and <i>Hamlet </i>has fewer laughs.
Because although this is, on the face of it, a fairly grim couple of hours, its actually quite heartwarming. We know that, despite her awful mother’s reappearance at the end in order to wrest back control of things, Josephine is going to come through it more or less the winner. Her baby is going to be loved and cared for, and will probably have a better life than Josephine. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The evening fairly crackles along, mainly thanks to Lesley Sharp’s Helen, who keeps the dialogue coming at a frenetic pace. She plays Helen without asking for a shred of sympathy, which is lucky because the woman is a peroxide monster, selfish, thoughtless and deluded – as my grandma would have said (and often apparently did) “All fur coat and no knickers”, and probably also “Net curtains in the window, nowt on the table”. Kate O’Flynn pulls off the role of Josephine triumphantly – all those Daily Telegraph readers who comment online on articles about the theatre that “those luvvies should go and get a proper job” should think themselves lucky that they don’t have to play this role 8 times a week. Harry Hepple does a nice job with the role of Geoffrey, which could potentially be one of the most stomach-churningly camp roles in theatre, but here its quiet and restrained. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Him Indoors always chunters about “communistic bowing” (which basically means all the cast coming on to take one communal bow rather than taking individual ones) and generally I nod and say “Yes, dear” sympathetically but I’m with him on this one. Two of the characters are only on stage for, say, maximum 10 – 15 minutes (if that) and O’Flynn is on all the time, with Sharpe not far behind her. Hepple is on for the entire second act. And yet all five cast members get to take a communal bow. That’s not right. The two minor characters should take the first bow, Hepple next, and then the two women together at the end. That’s the only way that the audience can show their appreciation of the fact that these two women have just done the theatrical equivalent of scaling, if not Everest, then at least Ben Nevis.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
There is a wonderful, artful and very telling moment when, almost at the end of the play, Lesley Sharp’s character breaks the fourth wall and addresses the audience, asking them “What would <i>you </i>do?” – and then the moment is gone and the play continues. Well, its an interesting question, and our answers today would be very different from the answers that an audience would have given back in 1958. Things were different then – and not only in real life. Theatre was different too – unmarried mothers, teenage pregnancy, infidelity and poverty didn’t appear on stage until the “Angry Young Men” started writing “Kitchen Sink Drama”. Which is pretty rich as it was the Angry Young Women who were chained to that sink until Delaney came along, scooped up the bowl full of dirty dishwater and poured it all over the stage in a wonder act of rebellion.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The set is very evocative, although a little disturbing – what on earth has been going on in the room upstairs? And can someone more enlightened explain the title of the play to me? What exactly is the honey that has been tasted? Is it sex? Freedom? Self knowledge? Something to do with a harmonica and Rita Tushingham?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
What the critics thought:</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
(and if anyone can tell me why my links no longer paste in as actual clickable links, I would be very grateful!)</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
http://www.ft.com/cms/s/2/1610ec32-9950-11e3-91cd-00144feab7de.html#axzz2ttRlKtLv</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
http://www.standard.co.uk/goingout/theatre/a-taste-of-honey-nationals-lyttelton-lesley-sharp-is-superb--review-9137916.html</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
http://oughttobeclowns.blogspot.co.uk/2014/02/review-taste-of-honey-national-theatre.html</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
http://www.theartsdesk.com/theatre/taste-honey-national-theatre</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
http://www.theguardian.com/stage/2014/feb/19/taste-of-honey-review</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/2eGOovuSGPg" width="560"></iframe></div>
Me!http://www.blogger.com/profile/08641946731096944403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30908821.post-53937084464179717312014-01-29T23:52:00.001+00:002014-01-29T23:52:14.780+00:00American Psycho - Almeida Theatre, Tuesday 28th January 2014 <span style="font-family: inherit;">Synopsis:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Living the high life in 1980s Manhattan, Patrick Bateman has it all – looks, money, style and status. He and his entourage buy the most expensive designer clothes, eat at the most exclusive restaurants and party at the hottest clubs. But privately, Patrick indulges in another kind of transgression. And people - including those closest to him - keep disappearing.</span></blockquote>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Cast:</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Patrick Bateman – Matt Smith</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Paul Owen – Ben Aldridge</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Craig McDermott – Charlie Anson</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Jean – Cassandra Compton</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Courtney – Katie Brayben</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Evelyn – Susannah Fielding</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Detective Kimball – Simon Gregor</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Creative team:</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Director – Rupert Goold</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Set – Es Devlin</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Costume – Katrina Lindsay</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Choreography – Lynne Page<a href="" name="_GoBack"></a></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Well, what an odd choice of material for a
musical. I enjoyed both the film and the
original book, and was really interested to see how this would be turned into a
stage production. The answer was that
technology has been thrown at it in buckets – and tonight that technology
proved unreliable. 10 minutes in, just
as the threads of the spell were being woven and starting to come together, I
noticed something had gone wrong with the lighting. The cast carried on – and then a techie
appeared from nowhere and announced that the performance would have to be
suspended until it had been sorted. And
then Matt Smith (who should know a lot better) did something completely
unbelievable and totally unprofessional.
He “broke the fourth wall” and addressed the audience direct. And what is worse, he cracked a couple of
jokes and started clowning around. This
amused the audience – but it broke the spell completely. The threads fell apart, reality entered in
and it gave the audience permission to laugh.
And then, when the show resumed, Mr. Smith carried on with the clowning,
interspersing his dialogue with a couple of comments about déjà vu, giving the
audience permission to carry on laughing.
And that is what they carried on doing, almost to the very end of the
show, interpreting the show as some kind of comedy, which completely destroyed
both the spell and any tension. I got
irritated with the laughter, and with the audience, and ultimately with the
show itself. What the cast should have
done is just left the stage quietly, and then returned after the tech problems
were sorted out and carried on weaving the spell. But at least two of them took the opportunity
to clown about. It was Unprofessional
with a capital U. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The script of this is very, very strange.
It’s a psychological thriller, but there are too many lines which could be interpreted
as funny. And when your audience has been given permission to laugh (by your
clowning), they will laugh at them, and turn your thriller into something
humorous. And then they will actively
look for other things to laugh at, and laugh at them, and unfortunately there
are too many things in the production that could be seen (by someone looking
for something to laugh at) as funny; someone doing a silly accent, someone
wearing a funny wig, four people standing with their heads through those boards
you used to see at the seaside when having a comedy photograph taken, even (and
these are very cheap laughs indeed) someone camping it up when playing a gay
character. I did wonder why the writer
thought it would be appropriate to make this a musical, when it would have
functioned rather better as a straightforward play with music. It certainly would have increased the
tension, and made the production feel somewhat less superficial. It is certainly far more superficial than the
book or the film – there is an empty kind of gloss about it all. Now, this could be a very clever aspect – the
lives of most of the characters are very, very glossy and very, very
empty. But I don’t think that this is
how the production was planned. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">There is certainly not a great deal of
blood. The first death doesn’t come
until almost at the interval. The tension has taken just that bit too long to
build to a decent level; until then, we’ve just been watching a musical play
about some fairly repellent people being repellent to other people. In fact, there really isn’t a decent
“Silence” until 15 – 20 minutes from the end.
Here I have to digress for a second and explain the term “Silence”
(note, capital S). I’ve used the term
before but not for a long while, and new readers may welcome some
explanation. Silence is the absence of
noise, but a “Silence” is one of those moments in the theatre when the entire
audience is holding its collective breath and concentrating really, really hard
– nobody coughs, nobody fidgets in their seat, all eyes are on the stage and
everyone is more or less holding their breath, because there’s something deeply
dramatic going on and everyone is focussing totally. I’ve defined “Silence” in the past as “the
noise that black velvet makes”. And we
get a “Silence” in the scene where Bateman takes his secretary Jean back to his
apartment – and none of the audience are completely sure what is going to
happen. Is he going to murder her with
the nail gun or will she get away? But
its too late – there should have been more of them, and they should have come
earlier. The tension has taken too long
to build up, and much of it has been dissipated by the jolly musical numbers
and the opportunities for humour. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I also think that the show is too overladen
with technology for its own good; the slightly thin story gets rather
overwhelmed by it. Not that the
technology isn’t wonderful in its own right – it certainly adds an extra
dimension. But does the script warrant
it, or even need it? With horror,
simpler is usually better. You have only
got to go see a performance of <i>The Woman in Black</i> to prove this – you’ll be
scared out of your wits by a production that uses only one set and some odds
and ends of furniture. Your imagination
will provide the rest. The film version
of <i>American Psycho</i> is so bloody, so visceral, that the stage cannot compete
with it. It attempts to become a
psychological drama – and in the main fails badly. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Not that there isn’t a great performance
going on here. Matt Smith really shows his
craft– you need considerable talent to pull off the role of Patrick Bateman and
in less competent hands the role would be a write-off and just wouldn’t
work. The problem is that most people
aren’t here to see Matt Smith’s talent – they’re here to see the man who played
Doctor Who, and probably wouldn’t recognise decent stagecraft if it came and
sat on their face. In the second act,
Smith gives a performance that is increasingly spellbinding and is totally
riveting by the final scene. But the
rest of the cast are hampered by the comedy, the role of Detective Kimball is
under-written and Cassandra Compton’s attempts at winsomeness are scuppered by
her inconsistent accent and insistence on using a voice that even Minnie Mouse
would find irritating. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Despite the stunning central performance,
despite the incredible technical aspects of the show, I have to give it a
resounding “meh”. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">What the critics said: </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">http://www.telegraph.co.uk/culture/theatre/theatre-reviews/10514037/American-Psycho-review-Glib-heartless-and-pretentious.html</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"> http://www.independent.co.uk/arts-entertainment/theatre-dance/reviews/american-psycho--theatre-review-matt-smith-regenerates-as-ripped-ubernarcissist-9001356.html</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"> http://www.hollywoodreporter.com/review/american-psycho-theater-review-665754</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"> http://www.radiotimes.com/news/2013-12-13/matt-smiths-performance-in-american-psycho---review-round-up</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"> http://www.whatsonstage.com/london-theatre/reviews/12-2013/american-psycho-almeida_32952.html</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/7QcOdiHArQo?rel=0" width="560"></iframe>Me!http://www.blogger.com/profile/08641946731096944403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30908821.post-8278972288054366012014-01-18T10:09:00.001+00:002014-01-18T10:09:38.528+00:00From Here to Eternity - Shaftesbury Theatre, Wednesday 15th January 2014<div style="text-align: justify;">
Synopsis:</div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: justify;">
In 1941, bugler Private Robert E. Lee Prewitt transfers to G Company on the island of Oahu. Captain Holmes has heard he is a talented middleweight boxer and wants him to join his regimental boxing team. Prewitt refuses, having stopped fighting after blinding his sparring partner. Holmes is adamant, but so is Prewitt. Holmes makes life as miserable as possible for Prewitt, hoping he will give in and orders First Sergeant Milton Warden to prepare court martial papers after Sergeant Galovitch insults Prewitt to goad him, then gives an unreasonable order which Prewitt refuses to obey. Warden, however, suggests that he try to get Prewitt to change his mind by doubling up on company punishment. The other non-commissioned officers assist in the conspiracy. Prewitt is supported only by his friend, Private Maggio. </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: justify;">
Warden begins an affair with Holmes' neglected wife Karen. As their relationship develops, Warden asks Karen about her affairs to test her sincerity. She says that has been unfaithful to her husband for most of their marriage having had to undergo hysterectomy as a result of being infected with an STD by her husband after he had visited a prostitute. Prewitt and Maggio spend their liberty at the New Congress Club, where Prewitt falls for one of the whores, Lorene, who is saving all she earns in pursuit of a respectable life back on the mainland. </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: justify;">
Maggio and Staff Sergeant Judson nearly come to blows at the club. Judson warns Maggio that sooner or later he will end up in the stockade, where he is the Sergeant of the Guard.
Karen tells Warden that if he became an officer, she could divorce Holmes and marry him. Warden reluctantly agrees to consider it. Warden starts to fall in love with Lorene. Both men, broke, try and make some extra cash by flirting with men at a local gay club, where they spot Bloom, another member of the company. The military police arrest Maggio, and he is sentenced to six months in the stockade, where he is beaten to death. Their friendship is mocked by Judson. Prewitt tracks Judson down and kills him with the same switchblade Judson pulled on Maggio earlier, but sustains a serious stomach wound and goes into hiding at Lorene's house. </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: justify;">
The Japanese attack Pearl Harbour. Prewitt attempts to rejoin his company under cover of darkness but is shot dead by a patrol. Warden realises that he cannot leave his men. Lorene leaves for the mainland, accompanied by Karen. </blockquote>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Cast:</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Private Robert Prewitt – Robert Lonsdale</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Private Angelo Maggio – Ryan Simpson </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
First Sergeant Milt Warden – Darius Campbell</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Captain Holmes – Martin Marquez</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Karen Holmes – Rebecca Thornhill</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Lorene – Siubhan Harrison</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Creative Team</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Music – Stuart Brayson</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Lyrics – Tim Rice</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Script – Bill Oakes</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Director – Tamara Harve</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Sets and Costume – Soutra Gilmour</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Choreography – Javier de Frutos</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The power of contrast, ladies and germs. Late last year we had the joyous enthusiasm that was <a href="http://russells-theatre-reviews.blogspot.co.uk/2013/12/candide-menier-chocolate-factory-cant.html">Candide </a>followed by the awfulness 24 hours later that was <a href="http://russells-theatre-reviews.blogspot.co.uk/2014/01/the-duck-house-vaudeville-theatre.html">The Duck House</a>. Yesterday we had C<a href="http://russells-theatre-reviews.blogspot.co.uk/2014/01/charlie-and-chocolate-factory-theatre.html">harlie and the Chocolate Factory </a>– an expensive, hyped up, slick load of emptiness - and today we have <i>From Here to Eternity,</i> an intelligent, well crafted, solid piece of musical theatre. The power of contrast.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I admit that I went in expecting very little. The Shaftesbury has nearly always been a graveyard for productions – apart from <i>Follies </i>and <i>They’re Playing Our Song</i> in the early 80s and <i>Hairspray</i>, there have been few major success stories here. Notable among disasters was the Michael Barrymore “comeback show” that sold about 17 tickets in total and closed the day after it opened, a musical called <i>Napoleon </i>(no, me neither) and a musical version of <i>The Far Pavilions</i> (no, me neither). So I wasn’t expecting much. I had only the very vaguest idea of what the story might be about (the only bit of the film I’ve seen is the clip where Burt Lancaster rolls around in the surf with Deborah Kerr, the little minx). I wasn’t even aware that it was based on a book. The only clues I had came from the foyer display – I got the vague idea that it was set sometime during WW2 and possibly somewhere like Hawaii. I knew Darius Campbell was in it – he was in <a href="http://russells-theatre-reviews.blogspot.co.uk/2010/05/carmen-02-friday-22nd-may-2010.html">Carmen </a>at the O2 but I didn’t manage to spot him because the direction was so poor and we were sitting about 2/3 of a mile away from the stage, and I lusted after him in <a href="http://russells-theatre-reviews.blogspot.co.uk/2008/04/gone-with-wind-new-london-theatre.html">Gone With The Wind </a>but frankly, my dear, he didn’t give a damn. I knew it was a musical, so I was more or less expecting a slightly different version of <i>South Pacific</i>. You know, something lightweight and a little vacuous. Trite is the word I think I used. I came out shaking with emotion and wiping tears from my eyes, having sat through 2 ¾ hours that whizzed past like a bullet. There was so much talent on display that frankly, my dear, I don’t really know where to start</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
How about starting with the music then? Well, the composer and lyricist make those of <i>Charlie and the Chocolate Factory</i> look like total, utter amateurs. Granted that the lyrics are by Tim Rice. The score is amazing, full of solid, tuneful numbers that stick in the brain (I am still humming a couple of them – always the sign of decent music, whereas if you asked me to give you a couple of bars from <i>Charlie</i> then I would have to look at you blankly and sidle away in embarrassment). The harmonies are powerful and sung with gusto. The lyrics are meaningful and never schmaltzy. I did have a moment’s concern that the show’s title number was going to be a big power ballad with “From Here to Eternity” repeated ad nauseam, but the expression is used once and once only. You’re not bashed around the head with it. There is a touching love duet (Love Me Forever Today), a great Blues number, a rousing finish to Act One and an Act Two finale that sticks a hand down your throat, grabs your heart and twists it until it cries. There are 18 (18!) musicians in the pit – and not a bar of it clicktracked, dammit. It sounds like a Hollywood Blockbuster</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And the story? You know, I can tell why this show isn’t doing the big business that it deserves; its because its well written, serious and intelligent, and that ain’t what is selling in the West End at the moment. Fluff is what is selling. And that is a real shame. Also, this is a show that you could quite happily take practically anyone to. Your Auntie Doreen will like it (she’s seen the film and she likes a bit of romance) and so will your Uncle Fred (its got soldiers in it, it has a butch storyline and it won’t insult his intelligence). But the kid’s won’t enjoy it – and that’s why it isn’t selling. Because this is a show for grown up people. Adults who can follow a storyline and think for themselves. Chantelle and Tracy are best sent to go see The Bodyguard, because this isn’t for them, either. They will be missing out on a bloody good night at the theatre, though</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The sets are simple and aren’t intrusive and don’t get in the way of the action. The choreography is, simply, stunning. Athletic, perfectly drilled and stunning. The sheer muscularity of the men’s routines is amazing. Nobody puts a foot wrong, everything is done with parade-ground precision. If anyone you know is still of the opinion that dancers are camp, this show will disabuse them of that. These are MEN, and they ain’t gonna let you forget it.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The cast (one of the biggest I’ve seen on a stage in some considerable time) are all absolutely top notch. Robert Lonsdale is amazing – he sings like a rock tenor, acts like his life depends on it, plays the guitar like a professional – and displays serious talent, all the more amazing in that according to his biog in the programme he doesn’t have a background in musical theatre. There is a nicely observed performance from Darius Campbell as Milt Warden – nothing flashy, nothing “starry luvvie”, but quiet, restrained and intelligent. I was half expecting him to get the final bow at the curtain because of his “star status” but no, even this is well handled and the final call is Lonsdale’s, which is as it should be. Shiubhan Harrison gives an intelligent performance, sings like a blackbird, dances with grace and charm and wisely avoids the stereotypical “tart with a heart” portrayal that her role could so easily become in less talented hands. There is moving support from Ryan Sampson as Maggio and a performance of quiet restraint that Deborah Kerr would have been proud of from Rebecca Thornhill as Karen</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
All in all, it’s an evening that the entire cast should be proud of. Its not your average lightweight night out in the West End and certainly none the worse for that. It’s the type of show that there should be more of. And its closing in April. Go and see it. Don’t be put off by the subject matter. Buy a ticket (in fact, buy two, because I want to see it again and I’ll happily come with you). Take a gamble – because believe me, this time it will pay off.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
What the critics said:<br />
<br />
http://www.ft.com/cms/s/2/f60b681e-3c97-11e3-a8c4-00144feab7de.html#axzz2qk6Fsrv4<br />
<br />
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/culture/theatre/theatre-reviews/10405520/From-Here-to-Eternity-Shaftesbury-Theatre-review.html
<br />
<br />
http://www.independent.co.uk/arts-entertainment/theatre-dance/reviews/review-from-here-to-eternity--sir-tim-rices-musical-has-many-faults-but-it-wins-you-over-8899785.html<br />
<br />
http://oughttobeclowns.blogspot.co.uk/2013/10/review-from-here-to-eternity.html<br />
<br />
http://www.standard.co.uk/goingout/theatre/from-here-to-eternity-shaftesbury-theatre--theatre-review-8900725.html<br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/UMmeUV2Kn1k" width="560"></iframe><br />Me!http://www.blogger.com/profile/08641946731096944403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30908821.post-80836201786932575392014-01-17T14:56:00.000+00:002014-01-17T15:04:11.203+00:00Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - Theatre Royal Drury Lane, Tuesday 14th January 2014<span style="font-family: inherit;">Synopsis:</span><br />
<blockquote>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">A poor but
virtuous boy, Charlie lives in a tiny house with his parents and all four of
his grandparents. His grandparents share the only bed in the house, located in
the only bedroom. Once a year, on his birthday, Charlie gets one bar of Wonka
chocolate, which he savours over many months. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Mr. Willy
Wonka, the eccentric owner of the greatest chocolate factory in the world, has
decided to open the doors of his factory to five lucky children and their
parents. In order to choose who will enter the factory, Mr. Wonka devises a
plan to hide five golden tickets beneath the wrappers of his famous chocolate
bars. The search for the five golden tickets is fast and furious. Augustus
Gloop, a whose only hobby is eating, unwraps the first ticket, for which his
town throws him a parade. Veruca Salt, an insufferable brat, receives the next
ticket from her father, who had employed his entire factory of peanut shellers
to unwrap chocolate bars until they found a ticket. Violet Beauregarde
discovers the third ticket while taking a break from setting a world record in
gum chewing. The fourth ticket goes to Mike Teavee, who <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>cares only about television.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">A tremendous
stroke of luck befalls Charlie when he spots a coin buried in the snow. He
decides to use a little of the money to buy himself some chocolate before
turning the rest over to his mother. After eating his first bar of chocolate,
Charlie decides to buy just one more and within the wrapping finds the fifth
golden ticket. He is not a moment too soon: the next day is the date Mr. Wonka
has set for his guests to enter the factory.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Charlie’s
oldest and most beloved grandparent, Grandpa Joe, springs out of bed for the
first time in decades and the pair go off to the factory.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Augustus Gloop falls into the hot chocolate river
while attempting to drink it and is sucked up by one of the many pipes. Violet
Beauregarde steals <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>a stick of experimental
chewing gum and turns into a giant blueberry. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Veruca Salt demands one of Mr Wonka’s nut
sorting squirrels to take home but is attacked by them and thrown down a
rubbish chute.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mike Teevea disobeys instructions and is miniaturised.
Only Charlie remains and Willy Wonka congratulates him for winning. The entire
day has been another contest, the prize for which is the entire chocolate
factory, which Charlie has just won.</span></div>
</blockquote>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Cast:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Willy Wonka – Douglas Hodge<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Charlie (at this performance) –
Troy Tipple<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Grandpa Joe – Nigel Planer<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Grandma Josephine – Roni Page<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Grandpa George – Billy Boyle<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Grandma Georgina – Myra Sands<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Mr. Bucket – Jack Shalloo<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Mrs. Bucket – Alex Clathworthy<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Mrs Gloop – Jasna Iver<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Mr Salt – Clive Carter<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Mr. Beauregarde – Paul Medford<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Mrs. Teavee – Iris Roberts<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Creative Team:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Director – Sam Mendes<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Choreographer – Peter Darling<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Sets and Costumes – Mark Thompson<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Music and Lyrics – Mark Shaiman and Scott Wittman<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Script - David Greig</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">THANK YOU TO REBECCA FELGATE AT <a href="http://www.officialtheatre.com/">www.officialtheatre.com</a>
FOR PROVIDING THE TICKETS<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Imagine – an expensive,
beautifully wrapped chocolate bar. The
packaging oozes quality and hints at the delights beneath. This is none of your Dairy Milk rubbish,
struggling to reach 10% cocoa solids and laden with sugar. This is <i>Drury Lane</i>, the latest invention from
the Wonka Chocolate Factory. It subtly
promises to make you happy, to entertain you royally (for this is, indeed, a
singing and dancing chocolate bar). Expensive, but oh – so worth it. It
whispers that it is a talisman against the cold, the dark and the rain, as well
as that miserable feeling of emptiness that has been nagging you. Come, it says, peel away the wrapper and run
your hands over the foil, which clings seductively to the delights beneath,
hinting at the solidity of the pleasures to come, the lingering sweetness
melting across the surface of your tongue, come and taste. You know that not only chocolate lies beneath
the foil, for this is indeed a very special bar of <i>Drury Lane</i>. Hidden under that crinkly, crackly foil there
is a sheet of pure gold , hammered as thin as the promise on a politician’s
lips. A sheet of pure gold that provides
the means of entrance to a world of enchantment. A Golden Ticket. Slowly you pull aside the foil……<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"> and what lies beneath is merely a bar of workaday
chocolate. There is no golden
ticket. No treasure. No prize.
Nothing. And, now you look at it,
even the chocolate seems less rich and dark than you expected. Its pale, almost sweaty in consistency, and
there is no comforting snap as it breaks, merely a slightly flabby
dampness. You’ve been (as they say in
the trade) well and truly had. Welcome,
my friend, welcome to <i>Drury Lane</i>. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Just like the chocolate bar,
<i>Charlie and the Chocolate Factory</i> promises a lot on the wrapper. There is a list of quality ingredients –
Douglas Hodge as Willy Wonka, Nigel Planer as Grandpa Joe. Sam Mendez (one of the big shots) is
directing. There will be technology and
theatrical magic blended with a story written by one of the most beloved and
enduring of children’s authors. A chance
to watch the images that were once inside your head pass before your very eyes. A chance to relive your childhood. A chance
to share that childhood with your children.
“Act One” might almost be printed on the wrapper, and it’s a pleasurable
enough experience taking the wrapper off.
At the finale when that wrapper is gone, the foil underneath is printed
with the words “Act Two” and promises even more – the interval comes right at
the most exciting moment possible as the doors to Willy Wonka’s wonderful
factory swing open and we are invited inside by the trickster, the charlatan,
the madman, the inventor – Mr. Willy Wonka himself, decked out in clothes with
the colour and shine of Quality Street wrappers (the pale green triangular one
and the big purple one shaped like a brazil nut, in case you ask). The curtain
falls and we are left literally on the edge of our seats – hurrah, after the
interval we are going inside! The magic
is about to begin! We start to peel off the foil that is Act Two – and find
just an ordinary chocolate bar underneath.
The anticipated magic isn’t there.
Its just a chocolate bar – and not a very good chocolate bar
either. And there’s no Golden Ticket either. All the money seems to have been spent on the
outer wrapper and the list of ingredients. All the excitement and promise that built up
during Act One and the interval goes ppppppppppppppttttttttttthhhhhhhhhhhhhhh… and you come back to earth with the kind of bump experienced after drinking
Fizzy Lifting Lemonade. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Largely this disappointment is
due to the paucity of the musical numbers.
There is nothing remarkable, nothing really memorable, nothing you can
leave the theatre humming – except, of course, one musical number patched into
the recipe right at the last minute. In
a dazzling show of laziness, Shaiman and Whittmany throw “Pure Imagination” at you – the song
sung in the 1971 film by Gene Wilder as WW.
Its almost as if the writers have either been too lazy to come up with
something decent or have tacitly admitted defeat at the final fence - given the lack of a good tune to send you out
humming, they’ve thought “Everyone knows and loves this song – lets give them
that”. Particularly poor are the numbers
which open Act One (“Almost Nearly Perfect” – is this a nod to “Practically
Perfect in Every Way” from <i>Mary Poppins</i>?) and Act Two (the instantly
forgettable “Simply Second Nature”). The
other musical numbers are wildly diverse in style to the point of
incomprehensibility – from the rap of “The Double Bubble Duchess” via the
yearning ballad of “If Your Mother Were Here” to the techno of “Vidiots”. All the big ensemble numbers are clicktracked
– recorded beforehand and mimed to. This
is a real rip-off when this happens – its just a way of fooling the
punters. Nobody on stage is actually
singing. What is truly amazing is that
Really Useful Group have actuall had the audacity to release a YouTube video
(see below) showing the recording sessions actually in progress. “Hey look everyone! We’re fooling you and are arrogant enough to
show you how you’re being fooled!”. The
libretto isn’t that great either – there is little of Dahl’s witty wordplay,
and what does exist is gabbled or muttered in a way that suggests the cast
(particularly Hodge) are embarrassed at how bad it is. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">And what makes it all the more
frustrating is that the first half is really good, full of slightly hokey
charm, nicely paced and with the promise of even better things ahead. The roles of Grandpa George, Grandma Georgina
and Grandma Josephine are expanded so that each develops their own personality
(one thing you don’t actually get in the book, where Grandpa Joe is the only
one of the four to take on a real character).
Mrs. Bucket – Alex Clatworthy; last seen in the notorious <a href="http://russells-theatre-reviews.blogspot.co.uk/2011/07/kiss-me-kate-guildhall-school-of-music.html">Kiss Me, Kate</a>
at the Guildhall School – is turned into a living, breathing person and is well
supported by the role of Mr. Bucket (another almost invisible role in the
book). There are some genuinely funny
moments (most of which involve Augustus Gloop) and some genuinely moving ones
(both me and Him Indoors thought, during the interval, that these were leading
to handkerchiefs being required at the end of Act Two – but the emotional twist
we both anticipated never came). The
story is updated gently and appropriately (in the book, Charlie is able to buy
two chocolate bars with 50p he finds in the snow and the family read of the
discovery of the Golden Tickets in old newspapers; here Charlie finds a discarded
£1 note and they watch the announcements on television) to make it more “relevant”
to today’s children and this is done sympathetically to retain the tales’
original charm (although this is
inconsistently done; Violet Beauregarde is a mini-rapper, Mike Teavee an Atari
addict. There is a strange attempt at
making it “transatlantic” – both TV anchors are unmistakably working for an
American news channel. Are the producers
looking for a Broadway transfer?). There
is so much promise in that first act – its not perfect, but with a bit of
tweaking and some better musical numbers, it could be really good – but all
that promise simply fades away in the second half. The costumes are inventive, the Oompah
Loompahs are portrayed in a variety of clever ways, the sets are impressive –
but the music is dire, the dialogue thin, and the emotional promise of Act One
is never realised. The flight of the
Great Glass Elevator, which could be a great coup de theatre in the manner of
Mary Poppins sailing up through the auditorium, is a bit of a damp squib. I expected the Elevator to go sailing up and
out across the audience (how fantastic would that be?), but it simply rises up
about 8 feet, moves about the stage a bit and then plonks back down, while we
are treated to the song made famous by Gene Wilder. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">There are a couple of notable
performances. Troy Tipple (great name
that!) was perfect as Charlie, even though he has an Oop North Accent while his
stage parents remain resolutely Home Counties.
I’m no great fan of Nigel Planer but he was an excellent Grandpa
Joe. Iris Roberts gives a pitch-perfect
performance of the manic Mrs. Teavee, and Jasna Iver as Mrs. Gloop just takes
over the entire stage whenever she appears. Jenson Steele is a perfect Augustus
Gloop, and Alex Clatworthy a warm and believable Mrs. Bucket. Douglas Hodge’s performance as Willy Wonka
does leave rather a lot to be desired – he mutters a lot, gabbles a lot, elides
over the occasional word and often appears physically uncomfortable when dealing
with his badly written dialogue. Give
the man a better script and better music and he would probably bring the house
down. There is a strange “framing device” where Wonka appears at beginning and
end as a tramp, and I could see little point for this. It adds nothing to the story and is just
superfluous and odd. Neither of the children playing Violet
Beauregarde or Mike Teavee (I couldn’t work out from the programme exactly
which child sharing the roles were playing this performance) had intelligible
diction, but granted that neither were helped by the speed of their musical
numbers. The dialogue written for the role
of Mike Teavee is dire, and that for Violet Beauregarde not much better. Tia Noakes played Veruca Salt with a
seemingly permanent gurn that simply made me want to slap the child, and in a
fashion that recalled the puppet version of Fergie in Spitting Image. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I don’t think I’ve ever felt
quite so let down by a theatrical performance.
It promised so much, looked initially as if it were going to hit every
single one of its marks and then singularly failed to deliver. It is, after all, just an ordinary bar of
chocolate in very fancy and expensive wrapping. </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">What the critics thought:</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
http://www.theguardian.com/stage/2013/jul/01/charlie-and-the-chocolate-factory-review</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/culture/theatre/theatre-reviews/10141934/Charlie-and-the-Chocolate-Factory-Theatre-Royal-review.html</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
http://www.londontheatre.co.uk/londontheatre/reviews/charliechocolatefactorymusical13.htm</div>
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<br /></div>
http://www.independent.co.uk/arts-entertainment/theatre-dance/reviews/theatre-review-charlie-and-the-chocolate-factory--never-judge-a-sweetie-by-its-wrapper-8679742.html<br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/YYl503MIrqA" width="560"></iframe>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br /></div>
Me!http://www.blogger.com/profile/08641946731096944403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30908821.post-18250490984198081532014-01-16T19:24:00.000+00:002014-01-16T19:24:32.145+00:00Le Corsair - English National Ballet @ The Coliseum, Saturday 11th January 2014<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Synopsis:</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<blockquote>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">A pirate shipsails across the high seas, captained by Conrad and his faithful pirate crew as
they navigate towards the Ottoman Empire. They are on a mission to rescue
Medora, Conrad’s love, from the hands of the slave trader Lankendem. Conrad and the
other pirates enter the bazaar where Lankendem is selling his slave girls.
Conrad is looking for Medora and sees her peering from a balcony. She throws
him a rose as proof of her love. </span></blockquote>
<blockquote>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The Pasha arrives
and Lankendem presents three young women he wants to sell to him. When all are
rejected, he presents the young slave girl Gulnare and the Pasha buys her
immediately. Medora is freed by Ali, Conrad’s slave and tries to escape but is
prevented by the Pasha, who faints at the sight of her beauty and insists she
must dance for him - , unable to resist such beauty, he buys her as well.
Conrad instructs Ali to steal Medora from the Pasha, and also kidnaps
Lankendem. </span></blockquote>
<blockquote>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Conrad shows
his hideout to Medora, and promises her all his treasures and possessions.
Birbanto, his lieutenant<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>objects and
tells Conrad that the riches are not his to give. </span></blockquote>
<blockquote>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Conrad summons
the pirates to bring their stolen bounty into the cave including the slave
girls and the kidnapped Lankendem. Medora pleads with Conrad to free all the slave
girls. Conrad agrees but Birbanto rebels and persuades the pirates to mutiny,
but Conrad quells them. </span></blockquote>
<blockquote>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Birbanto devises
another plan. Spraying a rose with a sleeping potion he forces Lankendem to
help him give the flower to Medora, who unaware of the poison, hands the rose
to Conrad.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He smells the flower and
falls into a drugged sleep. The pirates return to the cave, see Conrad
unconscious and decide to kidnap Medora. In the struggle <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>she cuts Birbanto’s arm. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Lankendem steals Medora back and escapes.
Birbanto is about to kill the comatose Conrad when Ali interrupts him. Conrad
awakes to discover his beloved Medora is missing once again, the evil Birbanto
feigns ignorance and swears his loyalty to Conrad. </span></blockquote>
<blockquote>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Gulnare is
entertaining the Pasha by dancing and teasing the Vizier, but they are
interrupted by Lankendem bringing back Medora. The Pasha is delighted Medora
has been recaptured and declares he will make her his most treasured wife. Conrad,
Birbanto and the pirates arrive disguised as merchants. Conrad and Birbanto
distract the Pasha as the pirates kill his guards. They reveal their true
identities and chaos erupts within the palace. Birbanto chases Gulnare and <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>they collide with Conrad and Medora. Medora
exposes Birbanto as a traitor and Conrad shoots him. Ali helps Medora, Gulnare
and Conrad escape and they flee to the ship chased by Lankendem. They set sail
but suddenly a fierce storm breaks and the ship sinks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ali and Gulnare are drowned.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Conrad and Medora, having survived the
shipwreck, desperately cling onto a rock. Conrad pulls out the symbolic rose
that Medora gave him when they first met and hands it to her declaring his
undying love. As she takes the flower into her hands Conrad collapses and dies. </span></blockquote>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Cast:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Cast:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Medora – Tamara Rojo<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Conrad – Matthew Golding<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Gulnare – Lauretta Summerscales<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Ali – Vadim Muntagirov<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Birbanto – Fabian Reimair<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Pasha – Michael Coleman<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Pasha’s Assistant – Juan Rodriguez<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Creative Team:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Choreography – Anna-Marie Holmes (after Marius Petipa)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Music: Adolphe Adam, Cesare Pugni, Leo Delibes, Ricardo
Drigo, Pyoty van Oldenbourg, Ludwig Minkus, Yuly Gerber, Boris
Fitinhof-Schnell, Albert Zabel and Uncle Tom Cobley and all!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Sets and Costumes – Bob Ringwood<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Lighting – Neil Austin<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Well, I hope you’re still all with me after reading the
synopsis (believe me, I edited it down by at least half and its still
bewildering unless you concentrate).
There isn’t really any real necessity for it to be so bloody complicated
– once you boil it down to the essentials, its fairly straightforward. What makes it complicated is the constant
repetition of people’s names. And
actually, once the ballet is in progress, it all seems so much easier. You can just sit there and let it wash over
you, to a large extent. There is so much
padding of the story that if you miss anything, you can work it out for
yourself in the next bit of padding. There are a few little bits where you have
to be looking out for details like a bit of mime (the poisoning of the rose,
for example) and if you miss those you are slightly sunk. But on the whole, as someone once said to me
“With <i>Corsair </i>you don’t need to bother about the plot – you can just sit there
and enjoy the dancing”. And by and large
I did. I was aided in this by the quality
of the dancing itself – Tamara Rojo has recently taken as Artistic Director and
seems to be pulling it up by its collective jockstraps. Standards have been pretty ropy the last
couple of times I’ve seen ENB (although appeared to be rising with their new
production of Nutcracker a year or so ago), and now that Alina Cojocaru is now
a member of the company as well, things seem to be looking up quite a bit. The fact that ENB have now invested in a new
production of <i>Corsair </i>(a surprising choice, given that its quite an obscure
ballet – although perhaps that is why they have done so, because practically
nobody else has got a decent production of it in their repertoire) is a good
indication that things are on the up. Perhaps
they are about to invest in a new production of something else soon – perhaps a
new <i>Bayadere</i>? That would be interesting
to see – anything would be better than the Royal Ballet’s tired old
production. But please – no more <i>Swan
Lakes</i>!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Visually the production is stunning. Bucketloads of lovely new sets and some
stunning costumes – some so covered in glittery bits that they could almost
walk around the stage themselves. I
expect shareholders in Swarovski are rubbing their wrinkly old hands in glee. The Pasha, for instance, was so lit up that
at times I had difficulty actually seeing his face through the glare. And that was just his first costume – his
second one probably needs a pair of big stagehands to lift it out of the
cupboard and I doubt very much that it will have been hanging in that cupboard
on one of those bendy wire coathangers.
I have a mental image of the Head of Wardrobe looking sadly at a pile of
mangled metal and shouting over her shoulder “Doreen! The Pasha’s costume’s eaten another
coathanger!” Meanwhile, a pile of bejewelled fabric slips round the corner and
cackles quietly, burps and settles down for a nap. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Lovely too are the sets – the whole production looks like a
pantechnicon full of backcloths for Aladdin has mated with one full of scenery
for <i>La Bayadere</i>, with a touch of <i>The Mikado</i> for good measure. The first act cloth showing the Hagia Sophia
in Istanbul wouldn’t disgrace the world’s most expensive box of Turkish
Delight. The Pirate Cave is a bit worrying – there seem to be strange bits of
Moorish architecture sticking up all over the place which are so large and loud
that under no circumstances could the cave be described as a “hideaway” – you
could give directions to it by saying “Sail Southwest for 20 minutes until you
see the big yellow and red horseshoe arch sticking out of the rocks”. Even more worrying (but still very pretty) is
the set for the enchanted garden – from Istanbul we seem to have arrived in
Agra because there is a dead ringer for the Taj Mahal in the background. I know the Pasha is meant to be under the
influence of his hubbly-bubbly pipe when he sees the flowers dancing in the
garden - but India?? It is, however, in its cool mint green a
refreshing contrast to the strong reds and oranges of the other sets and nicely
wispy (as if seen through a slight mist) for a dream scene. The palace set is your standard pillar box
red/emerald green/fretwork fencing jobbie.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Dance-wise (because this is, of course, what we have come
for), Rojo seemed on top form as Medora, nicely contrasting with Lauretta
Somerscales in the smaller (but just as technically difficult) role of
Gulnare. Matthew Golding seems a bit
anodyne to be playing the dashing pirate captain, Conrad – the role is very
much a “penny plain, tuppence coloured” one and we seemed to be getting the
“penny plain” version here. A certain
lack of bravura, perhaps? Or just uninspiring choreography? Fabian Reimar
seemed to be giving rather more oomph to the “bad guy” role of Birbanto. The part of the slave – here called Ali – is
a showpiece role for your company Nureyev as it needs a jumper and spinner of
considerable technical skill and this is demonstrated in buckets. It’s a shame that it’s such a weak part – for
the most, you run around in a pair of silky pyjama bottoms (sometimes you get a
feather to wear on your head) doing vaguely Middle Eastern salaams all over the
place, then you do your big set piece in the Pirate Cave and everyone goes
bananas, then you spend the rest of the show more or less running about the
stage chasing people until you fall overboard in the closing minutes and
drown. What a thankless life. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Anyhoo, ENB’s new <i>Corsair </i>is a joyful, colourful romp and
makes for a good, undemanding night out (unless you read the synopsis in the
programme, in which case you may have to sit there with your head wrapped in
wet towels for a couple of hours until the pain stops). <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">What the critics said:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="http://www.ft.com/cms/s/2/87ac9e92-79e1-11e3-8211-00144feabdc0.html#axzz2qafaEUN2">http://www.ft.com/cms/s/2/87ac9e92-79e1-11e3-8211-00144feabdc0.html#axzz2qafaEUN2</a><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="http://www.theguardian.com/stage/2013/oct/18/english-national-ballet-le-corsaire-review">http://www.theguardian.com/stage/2013/oct/18/english-national-ballet-le-corsaire-review</a><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="http://www.standard.co.uk/goingout/theatre/english-national-ballet-le-corsaire-coliseum--dance-review-9051160.html">http://www.standard.co.uk/goingout/theatre/english-national-ballet-le-corsaire-coliseum--dance-review-9051160.html</a><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="http://www.express.co.uk/entertainment/theatre/453103/Swashbuckling-pirate-piece-Le-Corsaire-by-the-English-National-Ballet-review">http://www.express.co.uk/entertainment/theatre/453103/Swashbuckling-pirate-piece-Le-Corsaire-by-the-English-National-Ballet-review</a><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Me!http://www.blogger.com/profile/08641946731096944403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30908821.post-89948609698894662442014-01-03T23:00:00.002+00:002014-01-03T23:00:29.979+00:00The Duck House – Vaudeville Theatre, Monday 23rd December 2013<div class="MsoNormal">
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Synopsis:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The play is set in May 2009, one year before the General
Election, Gordon Brown's Labour government is unpopular. Robert Houston is a
Labour backbencher seeking to defect to the Conservatives to keep his seat,
when the expenses scandal hits the papers the day before his interview with Sir
Norman Cavendish to complete the switch. Houston, having claimed practically
everything on expenses (including hanging baskets, massage chair, elephant
lamps, sparkly toilet seat and duck house) is in trouble and so are his family
and staff, and somehow Seb's girlfriend Holly is involved with Sir Norman….</span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Cast:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Robert Houston, MP – Ben Miller<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Felicity, his wife – Nancy Carroll<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Ludmilla, his maid – Debbie Chazen<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Seb, his son – James Musgrave<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Sir Norman Cavendish, MP – Simon Shepherd<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Holly, Seb’s girlfriend – Diana Vickers<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Creative Team:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Written by: Dan Patterson and Colin Swash<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Director: Terry Johnson<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Set and costume design: Lez Brotherston<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Lighting: Mark Henderson<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Well, last night I was entertained and entranced by a superb
production of <i>Candide</i>, which was worth every penny of the ticket price. Today I have been blown away in a different
sense, by the appalling and excruciating idiocy of one of the worst things I
have seen as a paying customer at the theatre in a very long time. Now, if you are a regular reader you will
know that I have very little time for farce; I rate it only slightly higher as
an art form than Last of the Summer Wine (something I would willingly undergo
a haemorrhoidectomy with blunt spoons and no anaesthetic to avoid). I vaguely expressed an interest in seeing
this because of its subject matter; like you, I lapped up every column inch of
the expenses scandal and chuntered away into my coffee (which I paid for
myself). The fact that it was written by
the stalwart scripters of Mock the Week and HIGNFY only increased my interest.
Slightly. Well readers, as the saying
goes, “Be careful what you wish for, because you might get it”. We got dirt-cheap tickets (always a sign that
the box office is falling off) and I have to say it was worth exactly what we
paid for it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The early part of the first half is not without promise –
there are lots of funny throwaway lines in the vein of HIGNFY; comments that
are funny with the benefit of hindsight about how our elected representatives
stole huge sums of money from the electorate in the name of “expenses”. There are also digs at Peter Mandelson, how
well Chris Huhne drives and how devoted he is to his wife, “Teflon Tony”,
Andrew Mitchell (“nice chap, rides a bike”) and so on and so forth, and they
come thick and fast. But then the
elements of farce start to creep in alongside an improbable story about how
Houston has “flipped” his centrally located flat in order to furnish his
constituency home and vice versa. Doors
start to bang, trousers are dropped, things fall out of cupboards and a ridiculous
subplot based around cock-fighting debts emerges, and its at this point that
things start to get a lot less funny. The farcical element starts to feel as if
it has been rammed head on with political satire in a desperate attempt to get
them to meld together and the result is a complete and utter chimera;
identifiably neither one thing nor the other.
Eggs are secreted in pockets (and you just know that, in a couple of
minutes, someone is going to slap those pockets by mistake) and then a bowl of
custard is hidden on the seat of the massage chair (and you just know that, in
a couple of minutes, someone is going to sit on the chair by mistake) and so on
and so forth. There is a lot of running
around hiding things in cupboards (and you just know that, in a couple of
minutes, they are going to fall out of the cupboard at compromising moments…….). Its all utterly, utterly predictable. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">An element of farce even crept into the interval. I went to the toilet and found that the floor
was an inch deep in water. Bear in mind that The Vaudeville Theatre is owned
and operated by Nimax Theatres, the same group who own the Apollo Theatre
(where the ceiling fell in recently). I
searched around to try and find a member of front of house staff to report this
to and the only person I could find was selling ice cream. Someone was despatched with a mop and
bucket. At this point, Him Indoors
decided that he too needed a piddle and headed for the same toilets. A flunky
monkey in a badly fitting suit was on guard duty outside the door and announced
that the toilets were now closed due to flooding, so Him Indoors was directed
upstairs to another toilet, outside of which there was now a long queue of gentlemen
wishing to relieve themselves. When, I
ask you, did you ever see a queue outside the Gents? There were so many in the queue that Him
Indoors was forced to choose between going to the toilet and getting back to
his seat for the second half. He should have
chosen the former….<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The second half died on its feet. Died a horrible, lingering death.
Slowly. The story ran completely out of
any kind of creative steam and descended into hiding in wardrobes, low rent
prostitutes, MPs dressing up in nappies and being spanked with a copy of the
Lisbon Treaty, some ‘Allo ‘Allo caricatures of various European heads of state,
stolen trousers, people smearing themselves with cheese, a can of aerosol glue,
lots more slamming doors and a panda costume. Yes, it sounds ghastly and
believe me, it was. The laughter from
the auditorium ebbed quickly away and turned into the kind of embarrassed,
uncomfortable silence that greets a resounding fart at a formal dinner
party. Him Indoors sat there with a
busting bladder and I got more and more uncomfortable that I had actually
expressed an interest in the show and dragged him to it. Never have I felt so guilty. The “jokes” were puerile, the plot as thin as
an MPs excuse, the frenetic activity on stage only serving to highlight the
paucity of the writing. How this drivel
ever made it to the stage I will never know. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Actually, I do know.
Someone somewhere sensed a bandwagon stashed high with money and jumped
on it as it rattled past. This is the
kind of show you get when the £ signs pop up in the eyes of someone high up in
Nimax Theatres and they think “Fuck art, this is going to make me so much money
that it will make the claim for moat cleaning look like peanuts”. What makes it worse is that some slimy
apologist for MPs has actually contributed an article to the programme about
how what good value for money our elected representatives are, how hard they
work and how much more we should be paying them so that they aren’t tempted to
commit fraud. In a display of chutzpah
so blatantly misplaced that it makes Margaret Moran’s claim that she was “too
depressed” to stand trial look like a scene from Oliver Twist, the company that
makes the duck house that Sir Peter Viggers “bought” with our money has
actually taken an advert in the programme.
Is there no beginning to these peoples’ shame?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Nancy Carroll, a stunning Viola a couple of years ago in
Twelfth Night, demeans her craft by appearing in such drivel. And what bright
spark cast Diana Vickers, X-Factor reject and all round talentless slapper, in
this? Did they think she could act? Well, they will be disabused of this opinion
should they care to witness her witless attempts at performance. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Really, take some advice.
Stay at home. Save your money.
Use your own toilet. This duck’s goose
is well and truly cooked. Painfully
unfunny. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.ft.com/cms/s/2/8e0b2642-624d-11e3-bba5-00144feabdc0.html#axzz2pNXDwgT9">http://www.ft.com/cms/s/2/8e0b2642-624d-11e3-bba500144feabdc0.html#axzz2pNXDwgT9</a><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.whatsonstage.com/london-theatre/reviews/12-2013/the-duck-house_32927.html">http://www.whatsonstage.com/london-theatre/reviews/12-2013/the-duck-house_32927.html</a><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.theguardian.com/stage/2013/dec/15/the-duck-house-review">http://www.theguardian.com/stage/2013/dec/15/the-duck-house-review</a><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.theguardian.com/stage/2013/dec/12/the-duck-house-theatre-review">http://www.theguardian.com/stage/2013/dec/12/the-duck-house-theatre-review</a><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.standard.co.uk/goingout/theatre/the-duck-house-vaudeville--theatre-review-8997122.html">http://www.standard.co.uk/goingout/theatre/the-duck-house-vaudeville--theatre-review-8997122.html</a><span class="MsoHyperlink"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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Me!http://www.blogger.com/profile/08641946731096944403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30908821.post-5074385565393086662013-12-28T14:32:00.001+00:002013-12-28T15:59:01.360+00:00Candide - Menier Chocolate Factory, Sunday 22nd December 2013Synopsis:<br />
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<blockquote>
Candide, the illegitimate nephew of Baron Thunder-ten-Tronck, is bullied by the Baroness and her son Maximillian. Candide is in love with Cunegonde, the Baroness' daughter. Along with Cunegonde's maid, Paquette, they discover that Dr. Pangloss, a man thought to be the world's greatest philosopher, has taught them happiness. Candide and Cunegonde dream of what married life would be like with wildly differing views. The Baron is angered at what Candide has done to Cunegonde, as he is a social inferior. Candide is promptly exiled and is recruited by the Bulgar Army, who plots to liberate Schloss Thunder-ten-Tronck. His attempt to escape the army is foiled, and both armies attack the castle. All the principal characters are killed. Candide returns to the castle's ruins and searches for Cunegonde. Hebecomes a beggar and gives the last of his coins to a syphilitic man who turns out to be Dr.Pangloss, who reveals that he was revived by an anatomist's scalpel. Apparently he contracted his syphilis from Pacquette. A merchant offers the two employment and they sail to Lisbon. As they arrive, a volcano erupts and the ensuing earthquake results in the death of 30,000 people. Pangloss and Candide are blamed, arrested as heretics and publicly tortured to face the Grand Inquisitor. Pangloss is hanged and Candide is flogged. Candide eventually ends up in Paris, where a mysterious but beautiful woman is shared sexually by a rich Jew and the city's Cardinal Archbishop. Cunegonde (for it is she, miraculously alive) contemplates her fall from purity in exchange for wealth. Candide is reunited with her and forgives her. Her companion, an old lady, forewarns Cunegonde and Candide that Cunegonde's lovers are about to call. Candide inadvertently kills both. The three flee to Cadiz with Cunegonde's jewels, where the Old Lady reveals her colourful past.. The jewels are stolen and the Old Lady offers to sing for Candide's dinner. The French police arrive and attempt to apprehend Candide for murdering the Jew and the Archbishop. Candide befriends Cacambo, a Brazillian, and accepts him as his valet. Accepting an offer to fight the Jesuits in South America against the Spanish government, Candide takes his friends to the New World, and they sail away, hoping to find peace and happiness. </blockquote>
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In Montevideo, the four are reunited with Maximillian and Paquette who have escaped from Europe dressed as slave girls. The governor of the city falls in love with Maximilian, but quickly realizes his mistake and falls in love with Cunegonde. The Old Lady convinces Cunegonde that her marriage to the governor will support her financially and she reluctantly submits. Candide and Cacambo stumble upon a Jesuit camp and discovers that the Mother Superior is actually Paquette and the Father Superior is Maximilian. When Candide tells Maximilian that he will marry Cunegonde, Maximilian challenges him to a fight. Maximilian is once again inadvertently stabbed to death by Candide, who flees into the jungle with Cacambo.</blockquote>
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Three years later, Cunegonde and the Old Lady are bored with life in Montevideo Meanwhile, Candide and Cacambo are starving and lost in the jungles. Finding an abandoned boat they float downriver until they finally reach Eldorado, the fabled city of gold. Finding peace for a while, they stay, but eventually Candide begins to pine for Cunegonde and are given blessing to leave and take several solid gold sheep with them. Durign the journey, the sheep die or are lost until only two remain. Unwilling to go back to Montevideo, Candide gives Cacambo one of the sheep to ransom Cunegonde, telling them that they will meet again in Venice</blockquote>
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Arriving at Suriname, Candide meets Martin, a local pessimist. Vanderdendur, a Dutch villain, offers his ship, the Santa Rosalia, bound for Venice, in exchange for the golden sheep. The ship sinks and Martin and Vandendur drown. Candide drifts ashore with the last remaining sheep, and travels to Venice where the Carnival festival is taking place. Candide searches for Cunegonde and meets Maximilian, who is revived once again and now is the corrupt Prefect of Police. Paquette is now one of the town's most successful prostitutes. Cunegonde and the Old Lady are employed to encourage the gamblers. Pangloss wins a game of Roulette, but fritters his money away. Candide discovers that Cunegonde is leading a dissolute life and is appalled. Between them, the characters scrape together enough money to buy a small farm. Candide and Cunegonde are reconciled and they all settle down to a simple but happy life together. </blockquote>
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Cast:</div>
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Dr. Pangloss/Cacambo/Martin: James Dreyfus</div>
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Candide: Fra Fee</div>
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Paquette: Cassidy Janson</div>
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Maximillian: David Thaxton</div>
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Cunegonde: Scarlett Strallen</div>
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Baron: Michael Cahill</div>
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Governor/Vanderdendur: Ben Lewis</div>
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Old Lady: Jackie Cline<br />
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Creative Team:</div>
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Music: Leonard Bernstein</div>
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Adaptation: Hugh Wheeler</div>
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Lyrics: Richard Wilbur</div>
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Additional Lyrics: Stephen Sondheim, John Latouche, Lilian Helman, Dororthy Parker</div>
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Director: Matthew White</div>
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Choreography: Adam Cooper</div>
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Set and Costumes: Paul Farnsworth</div>
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Lighting: Paul Anderson<br />
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Well, if you have to sell your house in order to get a ticket for this, do it. You won't regret it. I have to admit that I was slightly concerned that Him Indoors had paid well over the odds for our tickets (they were relatively expensive: we usually sit in the cheap seats and lump it) but I would gladly have paid double to see this. There is energy, enthusiasm, creativity, great direction, humour in buckets, a fantastic cast who work their collective backsides off and, most importantly, heart. <em>Candide</em> is a work that needs heart, or it will fail miserably. If you saw the National Theatre production of this yonks and yonks ago, you will know what I mean. The production didn't have any heart. <br />
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This production, however, has more heart than should be allowed. The entire place brims over with it. Every single person on that stage works like a trouper. There is not a single person who is being "carried" and there is not a single weak link in the chain. They earn their money. And more.<br />
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Yes, the show is flawed. Its waaaaay too long (this is the "opera house" version not the pallid 1956 one), wildly uneven and can be very dark. There are places where it drags terribly and the story runs out of steam several times. As a response, several songs (notably "Dear Boy", "We are Women" and "Quiet") and a few minor scenes have been cut and it still drags in a few places (by halfway throught the second half, both the cast and the audience are knackered; this, however, may well have been a lot do with the intense heat in the auditorium. Such a small space heats up very quickly). But by the time you get to the rousing finale, nobody cares. Everyone has had a good time. Everyone has gone on the journey, undergone its various triumphs and calamaties with the characters and come out the other side relatively unscathed, a lot wiser and hopefully a lot happier. We've loved, laughed, suffered, cried, been shipwrecked on the barren coasts of loss and celebrated at the festival of life. <br />
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There is a clever and simple framing device to the story. The audience enter the auditorium through tented entrances, displaying a small playbill. Apparently a peformance of Candide is going to be given. We sit around the fringes of a small, Mittel-European town square, bedecked with shutters and balconies and a troupe of slightly ragged travelling players tumble into the square and start unpacking. Costumes are pulled from chests and donned and the show begins. So we're not just watching a show, we are watching a performance of a show. Clever. This gets round the problematic size of the cast of characters, as most of the troupe double-, triple- or even quadruple-up their parts. The need for multiple locations is got around by using simple props to evoke a place, just as it would be in a "strolling player" production. Look closely and you will see that the costumes bear the traces of long use, of being sweated into and hauled about from place to place stuffed into trunks and in bags. They are frayed around the edges, down at the hems and going bald in places. Umbrellas and parasols have spokes missing, wigs are moulting. Just as it should be. <br />
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Plaudits and hurrahs in bucketsful to Scarlett Strallen. Her performance is a masterclass of how to play Cunegonde, and as for her rendition of "Glitter and be gay" - well, its totes amaze, as I believe they say. It is fiendishly difficult <em>anyway</em> and yet she throws herself around the floor and drapes herself over a chaise longue and then puts a rope of diamonds (stolen, wittily, from a chandelier) around her neck and proceeeds to hula hoop them around her throat. My dear, that is <em>technique</em>. She is well and ably supported by James Dreyfus as Pangloss, Cacambo and Martin (if I were to make a cut, I would cut the character of Martin and his one song - "Words, words, words, words" - as neither make any notable contribution to the plot), even though he is quite obviously outclassed by other performers more vocally gifted). It is nice to see him not have to camp it up for once. Jackie Clune's Old Lady is perhaps a trifle underpowered - sure, she does everythign that is necessary for the role but she is no exponent of comic timing, a vital attribute for the role, and a lot of the character's funniest lines go for nothing (ff you have the luck to see a recording of Ann Howard in the Scottish Opera version at the Old Vic, note her coming timing as well as her obvious operatic skills). If there was one disappointing Principal then it was the oddly-monikered Fra Fee, who has not got the requisite top notes to sing the role of Candide as written in the score and who does not seem to have mastered the art of stage make-up yet either, looking like some kind of Westphalian Goth. <br />
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Of the minor principals (I say "minor", but in this cast, nobody rests; when you are not playing a named part you are slogging your guts out in the chorus) then Ben Lewis is notable for his portrayal of the Governor of Buenos Aires and Vanderdendur. Mr. Lewis has the kind of pure, clear, strong tenor voice that Mr. Fee can only dream of, and hits some amazing, completely unforced top B flats that ring out like cathedral bells. Well, he did play the Phantom in <em>Love Never Dies</em>, so what do you expect? Well done, that man. <br />
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Take a bottle of water into the auditorium. Go to the toilet beforehand. Try and avoid the front row if you are shy because you may find yourself roped unwillingly into the action at several points. Check your cynicism at the cloakroom (you will find plenty more inside). And have a bloody good night out in the company of people who know what they are doing and how to entertain. And act, and sing, and dance, often all at the same time. Sell your grandmother for a ticket if necessary. If there is any justice in the world (and <em>Candide</em> teaches us that there is, indeed, no justice in this world,despite all our efforts to believe so) then this show will transfer to the West End and run and run and run and be showered with awards. But, unfortunately, as the characters find out eventually and to their great cost, this is <em>not</em> the best of all possible worlds. So catch this if and while you can. The world will be a duller place without it. <br />
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What the critics thought:<br />
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<a href="http://www.ayoungertheatre.com/review-candide-menier-chocolate-factory/">http://www.ayoungertheatre.com/review-candide-menier-chocolate-factory/</a><br />
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<a href="http://www.telegraph.co.uk/culture/theatre/theatre-reviews/10492055/Candide-Menier-Chocolate-Factory-review.html">http://www.telegraph.co.uk/culture/theatre/theatre-reviews/10492055/Candide-Menier-Chocolate-Factory-review.html</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.standard.co.uk/goingout/theatre/candide-menier-chocolate-factory--theatre-review-8979774.html">http://www.standard.co.uk/goingout/theatre/candide-menier-chocolate-factory--theatre-review-8979774.html</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.theartsdesk.com/theatre/candide-menier-chocolate-factory">http://www.theartsdesk.com/theatre/candide-menier-chocolate-factory</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.theguardian.com/stage/2013/dec/03/candide-menier-review">http://www.theguardian.com/stage/2013/dec/03/candide-menier-review</a><br />
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Me!http://www.blogger.com/profile/08641946731096944403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30908821.post-59346799381374902302013-12-19T23:30:00.002+00:002013-12-19T23:30:53.489+00:00We interrupt this broadcast....Not that I have been broadcasting much over the last couple of months (for which my continued apologies - unfortunately life sometimes just gets in the way)....<br />
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Readers may have already heard about this evening's horrific events at the Apollo Theatre. During a performance of The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time, a section of the main auditorium ceiling gave way. A lighting rig came down and fell onto a section of the Upper Circle, part of which then also collapsed. There are many reported injured, 8 seriously, and our thoughts are with those people and their families after what must have been a terrible, terrible event. Thankfully there are no reported fatalities. </div>
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However, this incident does prompt serious questions. The first is that the Apollo Theatre is a Grade II listed building. How then has the building been allowed to fall into what seems like such serious disrepair that such an incident can happen? Surely English Heritage demand that such buildings are regularly inspected? </div>
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The second is that Nimax Theatres, who own this and several other theatres, charge a compulsory "Restoration Levy" on each ticket sold. That's £1 on each and every ticket sold (theatre capacity is 775 seats). Over the years this must have netted the owners a considerable amount of £. This money is supposed to be spent on restoration and maintenance, which means that we, theatregoers, are putting our hands in our pockets and paying for maintenance ourselves, which is surely the responsibility of the owners? Why has this money apparently not been spent on restoration and maintenance and, more importantly, where has it gone? Into the pockets of Nimax and their shareholders?? </div>
Me!http://www.blogger.com/profile/08641946731096944403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30908821.post-41721364979615163322013-11-22T00:31:00.004+00:002013-11-22T00:31:53.338+00:00yeah yeah I knowI haven't posted anything for a while. There is a review of <i>Don Quixote</i> hanging around that I keep meaning to write. Soon. OK? Not much money in the bank for theatre tickets at the moment. Hence lack of reviews. However, Him Indoors will be coming into some money shortly so expect that quite a lot of it will be going on theatre tickets. Hurrah. Because I am getting bored with TV. Me!http://www.blogger.com/profile/08641946731096944403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30908821.post-24142275251681906592013-10-30T20:11:00.000+00:002013-10-30T20:11:27.137+00:00Dracula - Wilton's Music Hall, Tuesday 29th October 2013<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Cast:<o:p></o:p></div>
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Dracula – Jonathan Goddard<o:p></o:p></div>
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Mina Harker – Eleanor Duval<o:p></o:p></div>
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Jonathan Harker – Christopher Tandy<o:p></o:p></div>
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Lucy Westenra – Kristin McGuire<o:p></o:p></div>
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Doctor – Wayne Parsons<o:p></o:p></div>
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Priest – Jordi Calpe Serrats<o:p></o:p></div>
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Lord – Alan Vincent<o:p></o:p></div>
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Vampire Brides – Cree Williams, Nichole Guarino, Hannah Kidd<o:p></o:p></div>
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Creative Team<o:p></o:p></div>
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Choreographed and directed by Mark Bruce<o:p></o:p></div>
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Set: Phil Eddols<o:p></o:p></div>
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Lighting: Guy Hoare<o:p></o:p></div>
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Costumes: Dorothee Brodruck<o:p></o:p></div>
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Holy Mary, mother of God this is scary. And even more so when watched in the atmospheric,
creepy Wilton’s Music Hall. Had there
been room, I would probably have peed myself on at least two occasions – but you
have to be thin to sit comfortably at Wiltons, because the seats are all
closely lashed together with absolutely no room between them, so I spent most
of the first half sitting on one buttock and the second half bolt upright with
my shoulders well forward so that the people sitting next to me could sit with
their backs against the chair backs, so that the people sitting next to them
could sit bolt upright with their shoulders well forward, and so on and so on
down the row. This is not the level of
buttock and shoulder room I expect when the seat price is enough to feed me for
a week. Because of the lack of room
between seats, each person in the row was overflowing onto their neighbour’s
seat by about 5cm, causing serious problems towards the end of each row for
anyone with broad shoulders or a large bottom or both. This was the theatrical equivalent of economy
class on EasyJet. Not that most of
Wilton’s patrons will know what EasyJet is – there is a seeming creeping Hoxtonisation
going on, rather like something out of<i> Invasion of the Body Snatchers</i>. You know the sort – achingly trendy types
with iPads, designer spectacle frames and nebulous jobs in the meeja. The type who can’t go anywhere without a
drink first and another drink in the interval and a polystyrene carton of
something ethnic to munch on during the second half, like the impossibly
pompous “student of Brecht” sitting right behind me whose knowledge of Brecht
was so paper-thin that I heard a lot of talk about a play called “<i>The
irresistible rise of ……someone or other</i>” which is apparently “like, you know,
about, like, Hitler, I think”. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Anyway, I digress. As
I said, Holy Mary mother of God this is scary.
Simply and economically told, pared down to the essence of the story (gone
are the Van Helsing and Renfield sub-plots) and, to use a much over-used
adjective, gothic. Its also very smoky,
so take some cough sweets. And a bucket
to pee into. There are some flashes of
humour – the courtship of Lucy Westenra by the doctor, the priest and a lord (a
wonderfully rambunctious and randy characterisation by Alan Vincent, which wouldn’t
have looked out of place on the music hall stage), for instance – but mostly
its full on scary, and at times damned frightening; the carriage ride to Castle
Dracula will stay with me for a long time, as will the rising of Lucy from her
tomb. There’s just one slightly odd note
– before the interval, Count Dracula goes into a slightly grotesque version of
a music hall number with top hat and cane, which I didn’t understand at all and
which didn’t fit with the rest of the production in any way, seemingly – it looked
like Baron Samedi doing a bit of soft-shoe.
The idea of having the three Vampire Brides act almost as a chorus,
always observing, always present, is clever.
There are some very “filmic” moments – the scene in the tavern, the
carriage ride, Dracula slithering down the castle wall, the final chase through
the snow –some incredibly well-designed lighting and enough genuinely scary
moments to haunt the dreams of anyone with an over-active imagination for a
good long time. Atmosphere is provided in buckets by a wild smorgasbord of
music from Mozart to music hall (for me, hearing a recording of the original
version of “Down at the old Bull and Bush” echoing through a place where that
original version is highly likely to have been sung night after night was
really scary). Me, I’m keeping a light on and some garlic handy, just in
case. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://www.theguardian.com/stage/2013/oct/17/mark-bruce-company-dracula-review">http://www.theguardian.com/stage/2013/oct/17/mark-bruce-company-dracula-review</a><o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="http://www.express.co.uk/entertainment/theatre/436026/Dracula-dance-tour-at-Wilton-s-Music-Hall-review">http://www.express.co.uk/entertainment/theatre/436026/Dracula-dance-tour-at-Wilton-s-Music-Hall-review</a><o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="http://www.theguardian.com/stage/2013/sep/29/dracula-mark-bruce-company-review">http://www.theguardian.com/stage/2013/sep/29/dracula-mark-bruce-company-review</a><o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="http://londondance.com/articles/reviews/mark-bruce-company-dracula-wiltons/">http://londondance.com/articles/reviews/mark-bruce-company-dracula-wiltons/</a><o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="http://www.telegraph.co.uk/culture/theatre/dance/10355795/Dracula-at-Tobacco-Factory-Bristol-review.html">http://www.telegraph.co.uk/culture/theatre/dance/10355795/Dracula-at-Tobacco-Factory-Bristol-review.html</a><o:p></o:p></div>
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Me!http://www.blogger.com/profile/08641946731096944403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30908821.post-8919170166692303772013-09-29T16:36:00.002+01:002013-09-29T16:36:53.902+01:00About 2/3 of A Midsummer Night's Dream - Noel Coward Theatre, Wednesday 24th September 2013<div style="text-align: justify;">
Cast:<br />
Theseus/Oberon - Padraic Delaney<br />
Hippolyta/Titania - Sheridan Smith<br />
Egeus - Leo Wringer<br />
Hermia - Susannah Fielding<br />
Demetrius - Stefano Braschi<br />
Lysander - Sam Swainsbury<br />
Helena - Katherine Kingsley<br />
Peter Quince/Moth - Richard Dempsey<br />
Bottom - David Walliams<br />
Francis Flute/Mustardseed - Alex Large<br />
Tom Snout/Peaseblossom - Henry Everett<br />
Snug the Joiner - Craig Vye<br />
Puck - Gavin Fowler<br />
Robin Starveling/Cobweb - Stefan Adegbola<br />
<br />
Creative Team:<br />
Director - Michael Grandage<br />
Set and Costumes - Christopher Oram (aka Mrs. Grandage0<br />
Lighting (Paule Constable)<br />
<br />
Lordy, this is a lazy production. Lazy in that the text has been slashed to ribbons (presumably so that the plebs who are flocking to see David Walliams are introduced gently to the concept of Shakespeare; its less than 2 1/2 hours long including the interval) which is surprising because, as someone pointed out to me recently, the <em>Dream</em> is one of the few Shakespeare plays where you don't mind sitting and listening to it all). Lazy in that the text that does remain is gabbled through at such a pace that you can't hear that much of it anyway - its almost as if the cast are either doing a "speed read" rehearsal or competing among themselves as to who can spit their lines out the fastest, or that someone has their eye on a particular train home and is racing for it. Lazy in the fact that there are several people in the cast (some in major roles) who have never done any Shakespeare before in their entire lives) - if Mr. Grandage knew that people would be flocking to see someone in particular why did he not bother to give a bit more to his audience by surrounding them with the best actors he could find? Lazy in the fact that a couple of people in the cast have already appeared in other plays in this season and Mr. Grandage obviously thought it would be easier and cheaper to keep them in the company despite being woefully inadequate for their role in <em>Dream</em>. Lazy in that there is only one permanent set so there is no sense of "meanwhile, in another part of the forest". Lazy in that all the named fairy parts are doubled by those playing the Mechanicals. Lazy in that there is absolutely no exploration of the play's darker themes. Lazy in that although this is being trumpeted as "tickets for a tenner" none of the publicity mentions that in the £10 seats you can only see 2/3 of the stage - when characters stand on the "wild bank" at the rear, all you can see is their feet, and at no point can you see any of the backdrop whatsoever. Lazy in that Mr. Walliams does nothing - <em>nothing</em> - with the pivotal role of Bottom other than exactly the same as he has always done before. And lazy in that what comedy there is here mainly consists of cheap laughs rather than any real humour. </div>
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Sheridan Smith is probably the best thing in this, and that isn't saying much. At least she has a fair stab at Shakespeare's poetic Queen of the Fairies, but she looks and sounds like a superannuated character from Cats. There's nothing of the anger or the darkness of the role on show. She purrs and vamps her way though the part, completely ignoring the brittle yet otherworldy nature of Titania. She is given no help whatsoever by Padraic Delaney, who is the worst Oberon I have <em>ever</em> seen (and I have seen <em>Dream</em> more times than I care to remember). He has no gravitas, no mystery, no depth and no authority whatsoever, but giggles and simpers through the part and is seemingly channelling Ed Byrne. His Theseus is a walking disaster. The four lovers are anodyne and without a shred of character between them (and between all four can only boast minimal Shakespearean experience). It would seem that Messrs Swainsbury and Braschi - Lysander and Demetrius respectively - were cast for their rippling torsos and pert buttocks rather than any kind of acting ability. I suspect that Mr. Grandage fancied a bit of semi-naked eye candy to direct; all four lovers gradually (or not so gradually) lose items of clothing until they are running around the Athenian wood in their scanties. Obviously not a very muddy wood (even though Titania observes that "the nine men's morris is filled with mud" as a result of the weather being completely out of synch with the season) because all remains pristine; perhaps Proctor and Gamble have put money into the production? All four of them gabble at such a rate that their scenes become incomprehensible; if I didn't already know the plot backwards then I would have been completely and totally lost as to what was going on. David Walliams is David Walliams and that is really all that can be said for his "performance". Its a lazy retread of his various roles in <em>Little Britain</em> and shows us nothing new, nothing of his supposed "range". I don't think he actually has one; this is probably all that he can do. And yet people were practically falling about in the aisles. I have no idea why. In retrospect it was fortunate that there were no solo curtain calls because I would have booed very, very loudly.<br />
<br />
There was very little magic in this production. The fairies are 60s hippies, spliffed out and dancing to tracks from the Carpenters and the Beach Boys. This puts them firmly in the human realm when they should inhabit a parallel, dark world of Faerie. A dangerous world which may mirror the human one but is a fractured, enchanted ones. At least give the poor buggers some wings, because otherwise it looks like they are just a load of dropouts passing through Athens. OK, if they are on drugs and tripping out, at least make it look and sound and feel like they are spliffed out. The magic flower that Oberon uses to enchant the eyes of Titania and the lovers was here a tab of acid - but there was no triply lighting effect, no sense of looking at the world and seeing it changed or somehow beyond your control. To steal an idea from the FT review below, this entire production takes a puff on a joint but doesn't inhale. And to steal another idea from the Telegraph, in Shakespeare the "wood" is both inside and outside - its inside your head (a place where you can escape and dream) and outside the city, away from the constraints of being who others expect you to be. Its a place where you can literally cut loose. But the production doesn't. </div>
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Its so frustrating when you see a production like this. All the potential for a really popular "bums on seats" production because of the "big name draw" was wasted. One cannot blame the cast, merely Mr. Grandage for being so effing lazy.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.telegraph.co.uk/culture/theatre/london-shows/10315107/A-Midsummer-Nights-Dream-Noel-Coward-Theatre-review.html">http://www.telegraph.co.uk/culture/theatre/london-shows/10315107/A-Midsummer-Nights-Dream-Noel-Coward-Theatre-review.html</a></div>
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<br />
<a href="http://www.ft.com/cms/s/2/a65952f2-205b-11e3-9a9a-00144feab7de.html#axzz2gIPulDtk">http://www.ft.com/cms/s/2/a65952f2-205b-11e3-9a9a-00144feab7de.html#axzz2gIPulDtk</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.theguardian.com/stage/2013/sep/17/midsummer-nights-dream-review-walliams-smith">http://www.theguardian.com/stage/2013/sep/17/midsummer-nights-dream-review-walliams-smith</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://metro.co.uk/2013/09/18/a-midsummer-nights-dream-had-acid-and-dope-but-lacked-a-little-substance-4048085/">http://metro.co.uk/2013/09/18/a-midsummer-nights-dream-had-acid-and-dope-but-lacked-a-little-substance-4048085/</a><br />
</div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/dTheac4JutM" width="420"></iframe><br />Me!http://www.blogger.com/profile/08641946731096944403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30908821.post-5436292139651034782013-09-23T21:21:00.001+01:002013-09-23T21:21:19.269+01:00Storm in a Flower Vase - Arts Theatre, Friday 20th September 2013<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Synopsis:<o:p></o:p></div>
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<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: justify;">
Iconic floral designer and
cookery writer Constance Spry remains a household name to this day. A pioneer
for working women, she ran a successful business as the florist of choice for
the highest of high society, designing floral displays for royal weddings and
for the Queen’s coronation as well as creating the iconic dish Coronation
Chicken. But behind the image of this
highly respected businesswoman lay a very different story of marital discord, affairs and heartache….</blockquote>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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Cast:<o:p></o:p></div>
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Constance Spry – Penny Downie<o:p></o:p></div>
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Henry Spry – Christopher Ravenscroft<o:p></o:p></div>
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Val Pirie – Sally George<o:p></o:p></div>
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Rosemary Hume – Sheila Ruskin<o:p></o:p></div>
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Hannah Gluckstein – Carolyn Backhouse<o:p></o:p></div>
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Syrie Maugham – Carol Royle<o:p></o:p></div>
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Creative Team:<o:p></o:p></div>
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Writer – Anton Burge<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Director – Alan Strachan<o:p></o:p></div>
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Design – Morgan Large<o:p></o:p></div>
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Lighting – James Whiteside
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<span style="color: red;"><b>WARNING</b></span> – THIS PLAY
CONTAINS SMOKING. THERE IS ALSO ADULTERY,
DECEIT, LESBIANISM AND SEX OUTSIDE MARRIAGE BUT YOU WILL BE CONFRONTED BY A
SIGN ON THE AUDITORIUM DOORS WARNING YOU THAT CIGARETTES ARE GOING TO BE SMOKED
ON STAGE. IF YOUR SENSIBILITIES CAN COPE
WITH ADULTERY, DECEIT, LESBIANISM AND SEX OUTSIDE MARRIAGE BUT YOU FALL INTO A SWOON AT THE MERE THOUGHT
OF TOBACCO BEING CONSUMED ON THE STAGE, DO NOT BUY TICKETS FOR THIS PLAY. <o:p></o:p></div>
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When making a flower
arrangement, it is important not to try and cram in too much material,
otherwise you may overwhelm the design.
The stems of this play are far too long and need a good trim down. Even the hardier blooms in the audience on
Friday began to wilt as the play ticked towards 2 ¾ hours. I began to need an aspirin dissolved in the
water. Some of the material in the
arrangement needs cutting back, and some elements are too showy and threaten to
unbalance the layout in their favour.
Conversely, some parts resemble foliage stuck in to bulk out the
design. Never, ever, over-vase your
flowers. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
This is an old-fashioned
arrangement of a kind that will appeal to a certain audience. It will find favour among middle aged, middle
class ladies who belong to the WI and who consider themselves too old to go out
on the lash before screaming obscenities from the rear stalls at The
Bodyguard. There will be coach parties
coming up from the Home Counties, armed with OASIS, pin holders and crumpled
chicken wire. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Penny Downie “Constance
Spry” is a hardy perennial and is shown
off to good effect in this particular vase, working particularly well in this
arrangement. The creeping bindweed in
the plot is the role of Hannah Gluckstein, scrambling all over several long
scenes and in need of cutting back. It
is an unsympathetic, stereotypical part, badly written and, like Ruta
graveolens (rue), irritating after a
while and frankly somewhat embarrassing.
The appalling wig a la Glenda
Jackson on a particularly bad hair day doesn’t help. Conversely Carol Royle “Syrie Maugham”
appears in two scenes and blooms gaudily all over them, pulling focus from the
other parts and threatening to overbalance the arrangement. Always strive for harmony in your
arrangements, ladies. Each specimen must
support but not outshine the others. Fortunately, good support is offered by
Christopher Ravenscroft as a dry old stick propping up some of the
foliage. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
An opportunity was lost
here to create drama. Spry’s arrangements
were always dramatic but, like a branch of Corkscrew Hazel, this representation
weaves about all over the place and doesn’t really come to any definable conclusion. Rather like the one floral arrangement at the
local flower show that fails to win any prizes, it is pleasant enough but there’s
no real drama. The end of the first act
is a bit of a fudge – everyone leaves the stage and the lights dim, and therefore
the audience thinks its time to clap, but then the lights go up again to reveal
a solitary painting hung in an art gallery.
The applause dies out – and then the lights go down again and everyone
has to start clapping again. We may
possibly have been mislead into clapping as Carole Royle’s mother was obviously
in the audience and applauded on her exit.
When this happened again after Ms. Royle’s one scene in the second half,
nobody was fooled and the auditorium rang out with the sound of one person
clapping. They soon stopped when they
realised nobody else followed suit. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
There are an awful lot of
plastic flowers in this show.
Unfortunately Monkshood (aconitum napellus) is referred to as being in
the first bunch you see but there isn’t any in it. There is also a red Anemone “De Caen” in a
scene that takes place in January, which is wrong, because Anemone “De Caen”
blossoms in April. At one point a
painting is made of a floral arrangement.
The painting contains a single bloom of Anthurium but the floral arrangement
it depicts does not – there are white tulips, calla lilies, narcissus and
sprays of some kind of daisy-type “filler” flower but no Anthuriums. One of
the characters in the play is based on Syrie Maugham but this is spelt as “Maughan”
in the programme. The back of the
programme carries an advert for what I assume is a hideously expensive Covent
Garden florist. The photograph in this
advert is of appalling quality. The
photograph includes a large arrangement of deep red flowers (possibly roses,
but the picture is of too poor a quality to be sure). The picture is in black and white. Red flowers do not show up well in black and white images and you would have
thought that a) a professional photographer would have known this and b) the
firm it advertises would have commissioned a better picture both in terms of
quality and presentation of their products.
There is a facebook tag on the back of the flyer with the facebook “F”
followed by “artstheatrewestend”.
Unfortunately this makes it read as Fartstheatrewestend. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Personally, I think “Storm
in a Flower Vase” is a really, really naff title and smacks of desperation
because the author couldn’t think of a better alternative. The root phrase “storm in a teacup describes
something which is wildly overblown but really adds up to nothing very much, a
bit like this play. Inoffensive,
pleasant enough, slightly old fashioned and over-vased. <o:p></o:p></div>
Me!http://www.blogger.com/profile/08641946731096944403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30908821.post-52147423490270773792013-09-21T19:42:00.001+01:002013-09-21T19:42:25.428+01:00Sincerely, Mr. Toad - Greenwich Theatre, Friday 13th September 2013<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Synopsis:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Kenneth Grahame makes the lives of his family unbearable while writing The Wind in the Willows and then his son kills himself. It takes 2 and a half hours to get to this point, by which time nobody cares.</blockquote>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Cast:<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Kenneth Grahame – Adam Venus<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Mouse – Keith Jack<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Elspeth Grahame – Sarah Borges<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Beth Thorpe – Kirsty Anne Myers<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Ensemble – Luke Foster, Jamie Jukes, Gareth Healey, Gracie
Hughes, Kayleigh Smith, Emma Salvo, Julia Cave<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Creative Team:<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Music – David Andrew Wilson<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Book – David Hutchinson<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Lyrics – Katie McIvor<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Director – Phillip Rowntree<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
If I had known this was by the Sell a Door Theatre Company
then I would have run a mile from it. I’ve
<a href="http://russells-theatre-reviews.blogspot.co.uk/2010/11/dracula-sell-door-theatre-company.html">suffered at their hands before</a>. And in
the process of expressing my opinion, found myself on the receiving end of
abuse from members of the company. Well,
I had better dig out my tin hat and flak jacket because I am probably going to
get some more <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
This has got FAILURE written all over it. To start with, the subject matter is tired,
and I can’t say that its one I really care for anyway. Essentially, the story is about how dreadful
Kenneth Grahame’s life was and how he got so obsessed with writing <i>The Wind in
the Willows </i>that he made everyone else’s life awful as well, ignoring his wife
and eventually leading to the suicide of his son, Mouse. This kind of thing – digging about in the
psyche of authors of famous children’s authors and uncovering darkness – <a href="http://russells-theatre-reviews.blogspot.co.uk/2013/03/peter-and-alice-noel-coward-theatre.html">has been done before </a> and it didn’t work
then. To set this kind of depressing
story to music just isn’t going to work full stop. Particularly when the story is set in a
specific period and the music doesn’t reflect this at all. In fact, the score
of this musical is so wildly inappropriate to its subject that I began to think
that Mole, Ratty, Badger and Toad might soon be waving flags on the barricades
as Paris burnt down around them. Its all
very sub-Andrew Lloyd Webber. Even
though His Lordship was actually in the audience , where were Mole, Ratty,
Badger and Toad all night? You would
have thought that, given the entire story is about the man who created them
from his imagination, it might have been appropriate to have incorporated them
as characters? Only once did we get a
glimpse into Grahame’s fantasy world of animals and you have to wait for the
opening of act 2 to get it – by which time we had nearly given up. In fact, Him Indoors turned to me in the
interval and said “Do you want to stay for the second half?”, which in retrospect
I now recognise as a thinly-disguised request to go home. Grahame’s story is dreary, without sparkle and
so portentous that you can tell after the first 20 minutes that you ain’t going
to get a happy ending . Knowing that its
all going to go tits up is depressing, and you can feel the doom reaching out
to you and dragging you down. Its
over-long by at least half an hour, mainly because the subject is so
depressing. I am sure that everyone went
home wondering whether to feel miserable (Mouse commits suicide in some undefined
way at the end – possibly there is a train involved but this is unclear) or
elated because they didn’t have to sit through any more of it. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Production values were so thin as to be see-through. On a
budget this might have been, but this looked cheap and nasty. Someone’s old bedsheets made makeshift drapes
to “decorate” the stage (serving only to emphasise the bleakness rather than
hide it) and there was a tiny plywood desk on wonky castors with old books nailed
all over it. Two sets of steps disguised
as stacks of books must have taken up a goodly chunk of the production budget
and, to be frank, I think it could have better been spent elsewhere. Better costumes, certainly. At least, I think they were meant to be
books. Given a decent budget, it might
be possible to turn this show into something worth watching, but its going to
need some far superior choreography to that which it has at the moment , a
major rewrite and a complete change of director. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Whoever was working on the Sound Desk needs retraining or
sacking. It was all so over-amplified
that for a long time I couldn’t hear anything that was being said or sung. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Given the dreariness of the material, everyone tried
hard. Mouse is a character without any redeeming
qualities whatsoever and it is impossible to feel empathy with him, so it is
lucky that Keith Jacks didn’t even seem to be trying. Winsome will only get you so far, love. Sarah Borges as Mrs. Grahame hid her light
under a bushel until almost the very end, taking on a solo of such musical
complexity and requiring an incredible vocal range so she can be excused for
finding the upper and lower reaches slightly difficult. Move the song away from the end of Act 2,
direct it more sympathetically and it has the potential to be a showstopper. Nobody else really made an impression.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
A real stinker. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://londoneer.org/2013/09/review-sincerely-mr-toad-greenwich-theatre.html">http://londoneer.org/2013/09/review-sincerely-mr-toad-greenwich-theatre.html</a><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://www.edinburgh-festivals.com/blog/2013/08/15/musical-review-sincerely-mr-toad/">http://www.edinburgh-festivals.com/blog/2013/08/15/musical-review-sincerely-mr-toad/</a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/dBu2vCEv-tY" width="420"></iframe>Me!http://www.blogger.com/profile/08641946731096944403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30908821.post-71602605572011330872013-09-19T22:55:00.000+01:002013-09-19T22:55:57.484+01:00Titanic - Southwark Playhouse, Saturday 27th July 2013Synopsis:<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Big ship hits iceberg. Lots of people drown.</blockquote>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Cast:<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Barrett, the Stoker – James
Austen Murray<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Lightoller – Dominic Brewer<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Kate Mullins – Scarlett Courtney<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Bride, the Radio Operator –
Matthew Crowe<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Kate Murphy – Grace Eccle<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Alice Beane – Celia Graham<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Edgar Beane – Oliver Hemborough<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Ismay – Simon Green<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Mr Etches – James Hume<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Caroline Neville – Clare Marlowe<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Jim Farrell – Shane McDaid<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Captain Smith – Philip Rham<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Kate McGowan – Victoria Serra<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Creative Team:<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Book – Peter Stone<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Music and lyrics – Maury Yeston<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Director – Thom Sutherland<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
MD – Mark Aspinall<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Set and Costumes – David Woodhead<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Lighting – Howard Hudson<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
It was the day when the heatwave
finally broke, after a week of muggy, vile, humid weather. It was a horrendously sticky evening and a
desultory rainstorm wetted the pavements but did nothing to clear the air. It was like walking through soup. And the air conditioning in the theatre had
broken down completely. Consequently
sitting there waiting for the show to start was like sitting fully clothed in a
Turkish bath. Every programme was being
pressed into service as a fan and every other scrap of paper in the theatre had
been scavenged by those without them.
People began wondering aloud whether on payment of a suitable sum the
Producer might actually allow the iceberg to make an earlier than scheduled
appearance just to lower the temperature in the auditorium, or whether the
journey to New York might not actually be in peril if the iceberg had, indeed,
already melted. The show started,
foreheads glistened, stage makeup began to slide off faces and everyone
silently sympathised with men wearing heavy period overcoats. Lines about how unusually cold it was for
April were met with rueful laughter.
Two-thirds of the way through the first half, the show juddered to a
sudden halt. The Director announced that
we had hit an iceberg labelled “Health and Safety” and that The Show Could Not
Go On because of the temperature in the
auditorium; Voyage Suspended until something had been done about it. The audience piled into the lifeboats and
waited, bobbing about in the swell. I
wondered whether we would ever get to New York at this rate. Some 30 minutes later, the engines restarted,
the audience climbed back on board and we were off again . The Band Played
On -
sans violinist and sans viola who had been unable to keep their
instruments in tune as the humidity in the auditorium was making their catgut
go all limp and drippy. The cast wrung
out their costumes and prepared to hit the iceberg. By the time the Carpathia had delivered the
survivors to New York it was gone 11pm, the cast were completely knackered
(having already done a matinee that afternoon) and in the audience, T shirts
and underwear were clinging to backs and bums like passengers to a
lifebelt. Still, we all stood up and
applauded like there was no tomorrow – mostly out of sheer relief but also
because the cast had stayed at their posts and given the performance with
considerable welly right to the bitter end, probably for Equity Minimum. I dread to think what the dressing rooms
smelt like the next day. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
This is a difficult show to do
with a small cast – there are 22 singing roles, as well as a slew of small
named speaking roles (many of whom make an appearance in the embarkation scene
and then essentially disappear), so there was a lot of doubling up going on,
sometimes to the detriment of coherence.
Still, they managed, and on the whole managed well. This is also a difficult show to do when your
performance area is a “black box” and you have to have audience on three
sides. Still, they managed, and managed
well. A back wall of black metal panels
gave some idea of the scale of the ship (and the enterprise being undertaken)
and there was a clever gantry, accessed by tall sets of metal steps on wheels
which gave additional performing space and some sense of perspective. A nice directoral touch was to have the names
of all those lost in the disaster scroll across the floor in an illuminated “role of honour”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
There were some excellent
performances. James Austen-Murray made a
fine and believable Barrett (the Head Stoker), sporting a pair of shoulders
that I would kill for. His duet with
Bride, the Radio Operator (Matthew Crowe) was nicely handled direction-wise and
was, I thought, underscored with a slight sexual frisson – did the socially
maladjusted Bride, happier communicating by morse code than with real people,
think that all his all his dreams had come true when a sweaty, beefy stoker
wandered into the Telegraph Cabin? Celia
Graham handled the role of the irritating Alice Beane and her ferociously
difficult solo number with considerable aplomb and James Hume played Mr Etches,
the First Class Steward in the style of a slightly affronted heron, exactly how
the character should be portrayed. I was
less impressed with Dudley Rogers and Judith Street’s performances as Isidor
and Ida Strauss and I really, really did not like the direction of their final
number. Street was hampered in her
performance of what should be a heart-rending duet by trying to clamber into a
somewhat unflattering costume while singing it.
The role of Mr. Andrews, the architect of Titanic, was watered down almost
to the point of invisibility by giving the opening song to Ismay, the owner of
the WhIte Star Line. Doing so kept
Andrews out of the audience’s field of vision until it was too late for the
character to really register. Simon
Green was the perfect casting for Ismay – Green does the “conceited tosser” far
too well for it to be anything other than who he really is. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
The show itself is flawed – its
top heavy and there is at least one number (“Doing the latest rag”) that seems
superfluous. With its cast of millions
it runs the risk of over-egging the pudding and trying to cram too many stories
into the mix. It cannot be denied that
the problems with this particular performance made the show seem a lot longer
than it appears. But I cannot fault the
dedication of the cast who gave a sterling performance under extremely trying
and difficult conditions. During the
lifeboat scenes towards the end there were a couple of individuals on stage who
were so “in” their performances that I found it quite distressing to watch them
– Scarlett Courtney in her uncredited role of Lady Duff Gordon seemed to be
living the part to such an extent that I do wonder how she managed to sleep
that night. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A round of applause to all involved for soldering on under
incredibly difficult circumstances. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
What the critics thought:<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://oughttobeclowns.blogspot.co.uk/2013/08/review-titanic-southwark-playhouse.html">http://oughttobeclowns.blogspot.co.uk/2013/08/review-titanic-southwark-playhouse.html</a><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://www.edwardseckerson.biz/reviews/titanic-southwark-playhouse-review/">http://www.edwardseckerson.biz/reviews/titanic-southwark-playhouse-review/</a><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://musicaltheatrereview.com/titanic-the-musical-southwark-playhouse/#.UjtxpIakqV0">http://musicaltheatrereview.com/titanic-the-musical-southwark-playhouse/#.UjtxpIakqV0</a><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://grumpygaycritic.wordpress.com/2013/08/01/titanic_musical_review/">http://grumpygaycritic.wordpress.com/2013/08/01/titanic_musical_review/</a><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Me!http://www.blogger.com/profile/08641946731096944403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30908821.post-43220160778888531982013-09-18T15:53:00.000+01:002013-09-18T15:53:02.499+01:00The Ladykillers - Vaudeville Theatre, Saturday 20th July 2013<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="border: 0px; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-color: #eeeeee; font-family: inherit;">Synopsis:</span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="border: 0px; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-color: #444444; font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="background-color: #444444; font-family: inherit;"><span style="border: 0px; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Posing as amateur musicians, Professor Marcus and his gang rent rooms in the lopsided house of sweet but eccentric Mrs Wilberforce. The villains plot to involve her unwittingly in Marcus’ brilliantly conceived heist job. The police are left stumped but Mrs Wilberforce becomes wise to their ruse and Marcus concludes that there is only one way to keep the old lady quiet. With only her parrot, General Gordon, to help her, Mrs W. is alone w</span><span style="border: 0px; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">ith five desperate men.</span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: #444444; border: 0px; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="background-color: #444444; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">The criminals argue among themselves and, one by one, they start to plot against each other, each ultimately meeting their deaths at the hands of one of their former colleagues and their bodies being dumped into departing trains. Mrs. Wilberforce tries to convince the local police that she has foiled the robbery plot and tries to return the money but isn't believed, instead being told to keep the money. She uses the money to take General Gordon on a cruise in order to seek the cure for the illness that has caused all his feathers to drop out. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">Cast:</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">Constable MacDonald - Blair Plant</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">Mrs. Wilberforce - Angela Thorne</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">Professor Marcus - John Gordon Sinclair</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">Major Courtney - Simon Day</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">Harry Robinson - Ralf Little</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">One-Round - Chris McCalphy</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">Louis - Con O'Neill</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">Mrs. Tromleyton - Carole Dance</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">Creative Team:</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div class="MsoNormal">
Written by – Graham Lineham,
based on the screenplay by William Rose<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Director – Sean Foley<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Set and costumes – Michael Taylor<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Lighting – James Farncombe<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I was looking forward to this to
cheer me up. Unfortunately the first
half was completely and totally ruined by the bad behaviour and appalling
manners of the middle-aged couple sitting directly behind me. THREE times (yes, three!) I had to turn
round and ask them to be quiet. And
then, in the interval, they started having
a “conversation” which was clearly directed at me so I eventually had to
turn round and tell them that I thought people of their generation had better
manners. Things got rather tense so I
had to move to another seat – but by this time the show was ruined for me, which
was a shame because my bad experience (and subsequent bad mood) will have a
knock on effect on how I review it. I
missed a lot of the dialogue in act one because of the constant stream of
dialogue coming from the seats behind me.
The rest of the audience seemed to be having a good time though.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The set is marvellous – the interior
of a creaky old house, rapidly being shaken to pieces by the rumble of the
steam trains coming and going from King’s Cross . Some of the scenes which take place outside
the house are cleverly incorporated into the fabric of the house itself,
although the heist scene, which is played out with model cars and trucks moving
round on the vertical surface of the house’s exterior wall doesn’t really work
terribly well. It’s a clever idea but
not done slickly enough. There were a couple of scenes during the
second act when it seemed as if something hadn’t gone according to plan –
perhaps a fluffed line or a missed cue.
Particularly clunky was the scene where the two robbers attempt to throw
each other off the roof. Something got
bungled somewhere and Simon Day ended up throwing himself off the roof. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The cast do the best they can
within the limited stereotypes dictated by the script. Angela Thorne does a marvellous job of the
physical aspects of being a doddery old lady (compare her walkdown and bow at
the curtain when she seems positively spritely by comparison) and is genuinely touching in some of her scenes - particularly when she descends the staircase arrayed in her lovingly preserved party dress. John Gordon
Sinclair manages well with the unforgiving role of Professor Marcus, haunted as
he is by the ghost of Alec Guinness, but isn’t nearly “odd” enough. But Ralf Little’s tics and twitches are
overdone and get irritating very quickly.
Con O’Neill’s Louis is inaudible for most of the time because of his
appalling accent. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The script works well, sticking
closely enough to that of the film to honour the source but different enough to
be fresh. Unfortunately most of the
action takes place in act two so it feels uneven. There is so much going on and
so many people to be bumped off that it feels over-crammed yet still
rushed. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
The show deserves a better review
than I’ve given it. I was deeply, deeply
pissed off with the rude people behind me and spent the second half in a black
sulk at the back. Stupid, I know,
allowing other people to spoil an afternoon at the theatre – but sometimes
other people can be so bloody inconsiderate. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://www.theguardian.com/stage/2013/jul/10/the-ladykillers-review">http://www.theguardian.com/stage/2013/jul/10/the-ladykillers-review</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.telegraph.co.uk/culture/theatre/theatre-reviews/10169485/The-Ladykillers-Vaudeville-Theatre-London.html">http://www.telegraph.co.uk/culture/theatre/theatre-reviews/10169485/The-Ladykillers-Vaudeville-Theatre-London.html</a><br />
<br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/7EsPQqJXG2g" width="560"></iframe>
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<br /></div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; border: 0px; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><span style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">oe </span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">for</span></span><em style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: white; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">ced to face the music?</em></div>
Me!http://www.blogger.com/profile/08641946731096944403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30908821.post-24473744604243692662013-09-16T23:20:00.000+01:002013-09-16T23:20:01.133+01:00Passion Play - Duke of York's Theatre, Saturday 29th June 2013Synopsis:<br />
<blockquote>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Eleanor is a chorister whose marriage disintegrates when her husband James embarks on an affair with someone she had considered as a friend and confidante. James, a leading restorer of paintings, agrees to a clandestine meeting with the couple's sultry young friend Kate, the widow of a former colleague. An affluent photographer, Kate ostensibly needs James' professional input for a book she plans to write; but her real motive for meeting Eleanor's husband is to convince him to take her as his lover.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
James needs little convincing, and slowly the lies mount up. The revelation that her husband of twenty-five years is being unfaithful comes as a tremendous shock to Eleanor, who feels compelled to reveal secrets of her own. With the marriage at crisis point, both she and James develop alter-egos who give voice to the troubled spouses' innermost thoughts.</div>
<br /></blockquote>
Cast:<br />
<eleanor span="">Eleanor - <span class="role"> Zoë Wanamaker</span><br />
<span class="actor"></span> <span class="actor">James </span> ... <span class="role"> Owen Teale</span><br />
<span class="actor">Eleanor's alter-ego </span> ... <span class="role"> Samantha Bond</span><br />
<span class="actor">James' alter-ego </span> ... <span class="role"> Oliver Cotton</span><br />
<span class="actor"></span> <span class="actor">Kate </span> ... <span class="role"> Annabel Scholey</span><br />
<span class="actor"></span> <span class="actor">Agnes </span> ... <span class="role"> Sian Thomas</span><br />
<span class="role"></span><br />
Creative Team:</eleanor><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<eleanor span=""><span class="role">Director: David Leveaux<br />Producer: Tali Pelman<br />Set Designer: Hildegard Bechtler<br />Lighting Designer: Mark Henderson<br />Sound Designer: Fergus O'Hare<br />Costume Designer: Laura Hopkins</span><br />
<br />
With apologies for the delayed posting - Passion Play will have already closed by the time you read this. Things have been a little hairy on the domestic front at RTR Towers (to say nothing of the slightly gammy leg still which is driving me up the wall). In fact, I did wonder whether we would ever make it home after the performance, seeing as how some bright spark at Westminster Council had given permission for the EDL to march through central London on the same day as Gay Pride. Now there's a riot <em>in potentia</em>. Still, at least things have not been so hairy as they were for Eleanor and James, the main characters in this play. <br />
<br />
It wasn't selling well, and its easy to see why. This was not a pleasant evening out at the theatre. I found it quite distressing at times, and I wonder about the psychological effect it would have on an actor to be playing it 8 times a week. I wouldn't have recommended going to see this to anyone who was in any way depressed - and certainly not to anyone struggling with the effects of marital infidelity. In fact, I was chatting away to the woman in the seat next to me who was on her own and obviously desperate for someone to talk to during the interval and we both agreed that, amusing though aspects of the play were, both of us would probably go home and slit our wrists with a razor blade if it got any darker. </eleanor><br />
<eleanor span=""><br /></eleanor></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<eleanor span="">You do have to pay close attention because, with four <em>people</em> on stage but only two <em>characters</em> (both main characters have an "alter ego" who speaks their thoughts) it can get fairly confusing. It could, of course, have got even more confusing - the chap in front wondered whether Zoe/Samantha and Owen/Oliver would swap roles after the interval and I thought "if that happens I'm totally lost". What kept me <em>relatively</em> sane during Act 1 was that the alter egos didn't actually speak directly to anyone else on stage. And then, during Act 2, the prediction from the row in front was more or less fulfilled and the alter egos not only started interacting with other characters on stage but also with each other and I thought my head was going to go off pop. It wasn't too bad with the men, because despite being a character and his alter ego, Owen Teale and Oliver Cotton don't really look that much like each other. Oliver Cotton, for example, has a <em>lot</em> more hair. But with Zoe Wannamaker and Samantha Bond looking like the pair of slightly demented twins in <em>Gormenghast, </em>with the wigmaker's art having been pushed to its limit, the only way I could easily tell them apart was becuase Wannamaker has a <em>retrousse</em> nose (if anyone knows how to type an accented e in Blogger, I would be grateful for the tip) and Bond was wearing a necklace and slightly different coloured trousers. </eleanor><br />
<eleanor span=""><br /></eleanor></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<eleanor span="">It did, of course, feel like there was somebody missing from the stage, and that was Kate's alter-ego. Mind you, there probably wouldn't have been much room for it - her personality is (perhaps deliberately) rendered as so manipulative and horrible that any other point of view would probably have got in the way. You are left in no uncertain terms as to who is the villain of the piece and that James is simply a middle-aged fool flattered into destroying his marriage. It becomes less and less easy to sympathise with either Kate or James, who seem to act without any thought of the possible consequences. </eleanor><br />
<eleanor span=""><br /></eleanor>
The entire play does feel a little dated with its references to records, letters (remember those?) and telephone boxes. Apart from those references, it could be anywhere, anytime, and the spare, pared back set did a good job of being nicely non-specific. It does all get terribly, terribly confusing (particularly when one is a Bear of Very Little Brain) in the second half when the alter-egos start interacting with the "real people" - a real acting challenge I should imagine to spend half the play saying lines directed at nobody and to whom nobody reacts, and then to spend the second half interacting normally, and it does all get terribly, terribly bleak as things spiral out of control. Not a play I would recommend to anyone feeling emotionally fragile in any way, or indeed anyone who has ever been in a relationship breaking down because of someone's infidelity. <br />
<br />
What the critics thought:<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.theguardian.com/stage/2013/may/12/passion-play-zoe-wanamaker-review">http://www.theguardian.com/stage/2013/may/12/passion-play-zoe-wanamaker-review</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.theguardian.com/stage/2013/may/07/passion-play-review">http://www.theguardian.com/stage/2013/may/07/passion-play-review</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.telegraph.co.uk/culture/theatre/theatre-reviews/10041727/Passion-Play-Duke-of-Yorks-Theatre-review.html">http://www.telegraph.co.uk/culture/theatre/theatre-reviews/10041727/Passion-Play-Duke-of-Yorks-Theatre-review.html</a><br />
<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/7mhNg1Qasvk" width="560"></iframe>
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Me!http://www.blogger.com/profile/08641946731096944403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30908821.post-75739504904847681182013-07-25T21:01:00.001+01:002013-09-16T21:03:02.859+01:00We interrupt this broadcast....Dear Readers<br />
<br />
Apologies for the lack of postings recently. Been in a bit of a bad place for a while and trouble with finances has meant that money to spend on theatre tickets has been scarce. Over the next few days I will be trying to catch up with the backlog with some mini-reviews to bring things up to date. Thanks for your patience.Me!http://www.blogger.com/profile/08641946731096944403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30908821.post-10905450111631922192013-06-20T19:44:00.000+01:002013-06-20T19:44:17.394+01:00The Audience - filmed performance shown at Greenwich Picturehouse, Wednesday 19June 2013<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Synopsis:</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span> </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<blockquote>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">For sixty years, Elizabeth II has met each of her Prime Ministers in a weekly audience at Buckingham Palace - a meeting like no other in British public life; it is in private. Both parties have an unspoken agreement never to repeat what is said, not even to their spouse. The Audience breaks this contract of silence and imagines a series of pivotal meetings between the Downing Street incumbents and their Queen. </span> </blockquote>
<blockquote>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">From young woman to grandmother, these private audiences chart the arc of the second Elizabethan age. Politicians come and go through the revolving door of electoral politics, while she remains constant, waiting to welcome her next Prime Minister. </span></blockquote>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify</blockquote>;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">HM The Queen – Helen Mirren<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
Anthony Eden – Michael Elwyn<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
Margaret Thatcher – Haydn Gwynne<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
Harold Wilson – Richard McCabe<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
Gordon Brown – Nathaniel Parker<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
John Major – Paul Ritter<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
David Cameron – Rufus Wright<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
Winston Churchill – Edward Fox<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
James Callaghan/Private Secretary – David Peart<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
Equerry – Geoffrey Beevers<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
Princess Elizabeth – Nell Williams<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
<o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
Creative team:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
Written by Peter Morgan<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
Director – Stephen Daldry<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
Designer – Bob Crowley<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
Lighting – Rich Fisher<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
<o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
I sometimes worry about Him Indoors.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Firstly, this show completely failed to
register on his radar.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Given that he is
often to be found crouching over the PC like some kind of demented puma at
0859hrs waiting for the booking season for something obscure to open at
0900hrs, this is in itself a matter for some concern (although when this was
brought up in conversation, the story subtly changed to “I saw it mentioned and
didn’t think it would be the kind of thing you would be interested in”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Personally I think this is a poor attempt at
trying to get out of not having realised it was opening.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He always was a terribly poor liar).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Secondly is that he seemed to think that Mary
Hopkins was in this.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think he is
losing his mind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It comes to us all,
some earlier than others.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"></span></span> </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Every time the show has been mentioned in the media over the
last couple of months, I have made vaguely distressed whimpering noises, which markedly
increased in volume and frequency when I found out that, due to Ms Mirren’s
contractual obligations elsewhere, <em>The Audience</em> would be closing shortly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So it was with considerable relief on both
parts that he managed to get tickets for a filmed relay of this into Greenwich
Picturehouse.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not live, unfortunately,
because the show has already finished its run.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But still a performance, nonetheless; hey, sometimes we have to take
what we can get.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"></span></span> </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">So, it was on a hot, sticky and very sultry lunchtime that
we headed off on the bus down to Greenwich, humming “Those were the days, my
friend”, and finding that we were the youngest people in the auditorium by a
long shot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Well, I was, anyway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wasn’t best pleased to find that we were in
the front row; granted there was space for me to stick my still poorly old foot
out (apparently I will never dance <em>Giselle</em> again, according to my GP), but it
did mean that we were so close I could see that some of the actors hadn’t plucked
their nose hair recently and I ended up with a major crick in my neck).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One of the disadvantages of watching a filmed
performance is that you have to look at what the director wants you to look at;
I would have preferred it if there had been a fixed camera somewhere offering a
complete view of the entire stage (so you could watch the show from the point
of view of an audience member in the stalls).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Needless to say Him Indoors disagrees; he does this now and then but I
try to ignore him as best I can.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Perhaps
it wouldn’t have been so bad had we not been so close to the screen. It can be
quite disconcerting looking up the Queen’s nose.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I couldn’t see Mary Hopkins though, however
hard I tried.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"></span></span> </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">It cannot be denied that Dame Helen gives a tour de force
performance as HM.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After a six-month run
of this eight times a week, the poor cow must be exhausted as, apart from a
couple of short exits for costume changes, she is on stage for the entire 2 ½ hours.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even so, I did notice a couple of slightly
fudged lines.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For obvious reasons, she
is somewhat less convincing as Queenie in the very early days of her reign – even
an experienced actress like her cannot make a mature voice sound young. As
Queenie from the 1960’s onwards, however, the performance is astonishing,
helped (of course) in part by remarkable wigs and costumes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>From a distance, it would be incredibly difficult
to tell the Dame and the Queen apart – although the Dame has a bit of a conk on
her which is obvious in profile.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Every
gesture, every facial expression, every posture – its truly uncanny. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span> </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Most of <em>The Audience</em> is played strictly for laughs, and I thought
it would have been better had it been less funny.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Prime Ministers are, almost without
exception, played as pantomime caricatures (mostly villains).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Richard McCabe plays Harold Wilson as a genial,
bumbling fool and Hayden Gwynne’s performance as Mrs. Thatcher and Paul Ritter’s
as John Major have<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>both seemingly been
lifted straight from Spitting Image. Gwynne’s is a star turn – a cross between
Cruella de Vil and Iago. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was somewhat
shocked at the sheer lack of physical resemblance depicted by some performers;
Nathaniel Parker doesn’t really look very much like Gordon Brown at all, and
Rufus Wright bears no more than a tangential <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>resemblance to David Cameron (he’s got the
hand gestures right, but looks too sharp-angled and ferret-like; Mr. Cameron
has got slightly pudgy-faced over the last six months).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Robert
Hardy was to have played Winston Churchill but was taken ill during rehearsals
so Edward Fox can be forgiven for not looking very much like him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>David Peart looks even less like James
Callaghan, but is only on for a couple of minutes or so and does us all the
favour of announcing that he is James Callagham, so no worries there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"></span></span> </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Again, a full company bow with a solo bow from the
star.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I do so hate all this “communist
bowing” as Him Indoors calls it – I fully believe that every member of the cast
deserves their own bow and their own applause.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I was slightly shocked that Dame Helen didn’t take her bow in character –
it was all that was needed to make the illusion complete (perhaps apart from
the sudden appearance of Mary Hopkins).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/gVdOQvx379Y?rel=0" width="560"></iframe><br />
<br />
What the critics said:<br />
<a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/stage/2013/mar/10/audience-helen-mirren-daldry-review">http://www.guardian.co.uk/stage/2013/mar/10/audience-helen-mirren-daldry-review</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.telegraph.co.uk/culture/theatre/theatre-reviews/9910160/The-Audience-Gielgud-Theatre-review.html">http://www.telegraph.co.uk/culture/theatre/theatre-reviews/9910160/The-Audience-Gielgud-Theatre-review.html</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.independent.co.uk/arts-entertainment/theatre-dance/reviews/review-the-audience-gielgud-theatre-london-8521370.html">http://www.independent.co.uk/arts-entertainment/theatre-dance/reviews/review-the-audience-gielgud-theatre-london-8521370.html</a><br />
<br />
<br />Me!http://www.blogger.com/profile/08641946731096944403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30908821.post-70258166765266716482013-06-19T09:58:00.001+01:002013-06-19T09:58:29.459+01:00The Cripple of Inishmaan - Noel Coward Theatre, Friday 14th June 2013Synopsis:<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Set on the remote island of Inishmaan off the west coast of Ireland just before the outbreak of WW2, word arrives that a Hollywood film is being made on the neighboring island of Inishmore. The one person who wants to be in the film more than anybody is young Cripple Billy, if only to break away from the bitter tedium of his daily life. Billy forges a doctor's letter saying that he has TB and only months to live in order to get sympathy from Babbybobby and a ride in his boat over to Inishmore, where he is spotted by the Director and taken to Hollywood for a screen test. Having failed the test, Cripple Billy returns home to find that life will probably never be the same. Finally finding out the truth regarding his parents' apparent suicide, Fate has a couple of surprises still in store for him.</blockquote>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Cast:</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Kate Osbourne - Ingrid Craigie</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Gillian Osbourne, her sister - Gillian Hanna</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Johnnypateenmike - Pat Short</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Billy - Daniel Radcliffe</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Bartley McCormick - Conor MacNeill</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Helen McCormick, his sister - Sarah Greene</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Babbybobby - Padraic Delaney</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Doctor - Gary Lilburn</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Mammy, Johnnypateenmike's elderly mother - June Watson</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Creative Team:</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Written by Martin McDonagh</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Director: Michael Grandage</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Set and costumes - Christopher Oram</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Lighting - Paule Constable<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I think if you were any member of the cast other than Daniel
Radcliffe, you would be really quite peed off with both the Noel Coward Theatre
and Mr. Grandage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not only is Mr.
Radcliffe’s mug plastered up all over the outside of the theatre and all over
the programme cover (just him, mind you), but he is the only member of the cast
given a solo bow at the end of the show.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Full company bow, solo bow by Mr. Radcliffe, full company bow, solo bow
by Mr. Radcliffe, curtain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yes, I know
he’s young, pretty and Harry Potter (there were at least two sad middle-aged
women having their picture taken outside the theatre of them draping themselves
over the pictures of Mr. Potter) and a very bankable star name, but this play
is very much an ensemble piece (and, frankly, the role of Billy is not actually
a very big one).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There are other people
in it, is what I’m getting at.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But you
wouldn’t know it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">From the same pen as <em><a href="http://russells-theatre-reviews.blogspot.co.uk/2011/07/beauty-queen-of-leenane-young-vic.html">The Beauty Queen of Leenane</a></em>, this
is<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>quite a slight play, but with
similarly dark overtones and lots of the same kind of comedy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Like <em>Beauty Queen</em>, there are several points
where the plot turns on a sixpence, and you are sit there thinking “Oh my god
[this] is going to happen” but then it suddenly doesn’t and the plot twists
away in another direction, and you are left sitting there feeling that you have
been taken up the garden path and then dumped among the hydrangeas feeling
stupid.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There seemed to be very little
actual plot, and I’m not entirely sure what the audience were expecting but
there were an awful lot fewer people in the auditorium after the interval.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I could have done with two fewer people in
the auditorium all the way through – the two idiot teenage boys sitting next to
me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One of them tried to get past on his
way to his seat and then barged by before I had managed to get up (narrowly
missing poorly foot) and had not yet learned how to blow his nose on a
handkerchief and treated everyone in the vicinity to a loud and bubbly nasal
symphony every five minutes or so, and neither of them had worked out how to
get sweets out of a small cardboard box quietly nor how to drink through a
straw without a) blowing bubbles in the drink first and<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>b) making that loud slurping noise you get
when the drink is running out and you are chasing the dregs of fluid around the
bottom of the cup.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Needless to say, one
of them had a mobile phone which went off during a quiet bit in the second
half.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Most of this play is very, very funny – leaning towards the
“Craggy Island” style.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And a certain
amount is very, very dark.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And the stage
is very, very dark for a lot of the time as well – off towards the wings
everything fades into obscurity<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>-
thankfully most of the action is well centred on stage but there is at least
one (non-essential but funny) part involving a bible that you may well miss
unless you have been eating all your carrots.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The funny lines come so thick and fast that you could miss a lot of the
jokes because you are laughing so much, and then it all gets very serious, and
then very funny again and then very serious – leaving me feeling rather like I
was sitting on a rollercoaster.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It gets
a little tiring eventually.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Mr. Radcliffe's accent wanders a bit now and again. </span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">It would be invidious to pick out any individual performance
because, as I said before, this is an ensemble piece – unless you are Daniel
Radcliffe – and everyone is very good.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Sometimes the Irish brogues are a bit too thick to be penetrable and
sometimes the dialogue goes too fast for comfort, but overall its well-paced
and slick throughout, which is fortunate because it could become self-indulgent
at a slower pace.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The lighting<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>could be better at times, but all in all it’s
a fun evening out, even if the plot is essentially unrealistic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Why people walked out at the interval I don’t
know – perhaps they were expecting Mr. Radcliffe to be whizzing round the stage
on a Nimbus 2000?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Apparently he was
handed a pile of scripts by Mr. Grandage and told “pick one you fancy being in
and we’ll do it”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is to Mr. Radcliffe’s
credit that he picked something which didn’t supply him with a <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“star vehicle” to the detriment of the rest of
the cast.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I would still have liked to
see everyone get their own bow at the final curtain, however.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
What the critics thought:<br />
<a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/stage/2013/jun/18/the-cripple-of-inishmaan-review">http://www.guardian.co.uk/stage/2013/jun/18/the-cripple-of-inishmaan-review</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.independent.co.uk/arts-entertainment/theatre-dance/reviews/theatre-review-daniel-radcliffe-gives-an-admirably-honest-performance-the-cripple-of-inishmaan--but-his-irish-accent-isnt-quite-there-8663412.html">http://www.independent.co.uk/arts-entertainment/theatre-dance/reviews/theatre-review-daniel-radcliffe-gives-an-admirably-honest-performance-the-cripple-of-inishmaan--but-his-irish-accent-isnt-quite-there-8663412.html</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.telegraph.co.uk/culture/theatre/theatre-reviews/10127301/The-Cripple-of-Inishmaan-Noel-Coward-Theatre-review.html">http://www.telegraph.co.uk/culture/theatre/theatre-reviews/10127301/The-Cripple-of-Inishmaan-Noel-Coward-Theatre-review.html</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.theartsdesk.com/theatre/cripple-inishmaan-no%C3%ABl-coward-theatre">http://www.theartsdesk.com/theatre/cripple-inishmaan-no%C3%ABl-coward-theatre</a><br />
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Me!http://www.blogger.com/profile/08641946731096944403noreply@blogger.com0