Cowardy Custard - Greenwich Theatre, Saturday 30th April 2011

Synopsis:

Review with song and scenes from Coward's plays, presented in a vaguely autobiographical manner. 

Cast:

Dillie Keane

Kit Hesketh-Harvey

Richard Sisson (aka The Widow)

Stuart Neal

Savannah Stevenson

Review can be a horribly self-indulgent art form.  Noel Coward can also be horribly self-indulgent in the wrong hands.  However, when its presented simply by performers who know exactly what they are doing, it can be joyous.  I admit that I approached the evening with slight trepidation, and that it took about 3/4 of the first half before I thawed completely towards this show.  Partly that was the fault of the show itself - Cowardy Custard is (very) loosely based on Coward's life and all the songs and excerpts from his plays are presented without any frame of reference - you're supposed to roll up at the theatre and be a devotee of The Master, knowing exactly where the quotes come from and what context they are made in.  This makes the first hour or so quite heavy going as all the Coward Buffs sit there chortling at the arch cleverness leaving you feeling uneducated.  You're not helped by the fact that the first "scene" is a lift from Coward's Shadow Play, which has some very arch dialogue and which is, as far as I could tell, a far-from-realistic piece.  The fact that you don't recognise any of the dialogue (Shadow Play is no Hay Fever or Private Lives) or indeed any of the tunes, leaves you sitting there wondering what exactly you are listening to - is it a scene from a play or just rather over-one's-head dialogue inserted into the beginning of the review? 

Its not until Mad About The Boy that things start to settle down for the non-Coward buff - at last a recognisable tune!  and OMG, its funny.  What's more, apparently it was originally written to be funny; its sung by four performers and it gets progressively funnier and off-beat.  Its followed by The Stately Homes of England - and suddenly the evening catches fire and you find you're enjoying yourself after all.  Cue I've Been to a Marvellous Party and Mrs. Worthington and you're suddenly hitting all the big Coward choonz and laughing fit to bust. 

What makes this all the more enjoyable is that you're in the company of Kit and The Widow, sublime raconteurs both, and the inestimable, glorious Dillie Kean (of Fascinating Aida).  They're accompanied by two relatively little-known performers who seem to be coming up hot on the rails and give the more established names no quarter - Savannah Stevenson is a pretty, willowy soprano with a very polished style and Stuart Neal dances like a dream but can also act up a storm, has great comedy timing, sings extremely well and (dammit) even has gorgeous dancer's thighs.  There's no Director given a credit in the programme, so its possible that this is self-directed by the cast, in which case they're so talented it makes me want to be sick.  [news received on 3rd May - the Director is Paul Foster and very good at his job he is too]

Because you've had such a good second half to the first half (if you follow me), you can forgive the fact that once again, the second half takes a while to throw a familiar tune at you.  It opens with London Pride (which I knew) and which was given a very contemporary, slightly chilling feel as its intercut with news voiceovers reporting the London 7/7 tube and bus bombings.  Another 40 minutes perhaps go by before we're treated to Has Anybody Seen Our Ship?, cleverly followed by a haunting version of Matelot.  Despite the fact that I'd never heard Nina before, it doesn't stop it being a complete showstopper, and then its time for Mad Dogs and Englishman and a short medley before the end. 

The entire evening belonged to Dillie Kean.  If you've never seen her as part of Fascinating Aida then you really have missed out on one of life's big treats.  Of slightly uncertain middle years (and, it must be said, wearing frocks with slightly uncertain hemlines and of more-than-slightly unflattering cut), Ms Keane has the type of talent that cannot be taught.  She's a natural.  She only has to totter onto the stage, pull an expression on a face which can only honestly be described as "comfortable" and the vast majority of people fall about.  Combine that with the deadpan delivery of razor-sharp observational humour and, as happened with I've Been to a Marvellous Party, you can bring to the show to a complete halt and have the audience braying for an encore. I would describe her talent as similar to that of the late, great Joyce Grenfell, who could stand alone on a stage delivering a monologue and make it seem filled with people at a party or in a supermarket queue or at an airport.  I did wish that her head-mike hadnt been plonked right in the middle of her forehead and covered up with a piece of flesh-coloured tape as it did rather look like she'd had one too many glasses of sherry and had a bit of an accident on the steps.  Keane also reminds me of Sandi Toksvig - they both have that same throwaway delivery which leaves you crying with laughter; at one point, The Widow mopped Keane's forehead and she adlibbed "Don't do that to my microphone, dear" just like a favourite, slightly dotty aunt. Fabulous.  And when the horn fell off the gramophone - well, she nearly stopped the show again.  I don't think anyone corpses quite so hysterically as Dillie Keane.

I did rather wish that costumes had been just that little bit smarter; Dillie's dresses could have been rather better chosen, Ms. Stevenson's second half dress was very raggy around the hem and Mr. Neal looked rather like he had been pulled from a hedge about 10 minutes before curtain up - shirt not pressed, shoes very down at heel and unpolished, jacket just awful, unshaven and bleary-looking.  Widow was resplendent in a very smart suit and you could have used his shoes as a mirror, and Mr. Hesketh-Harvey has a very soignee style, making the others look ever so slightly shabby in comparison.  I know that touring can be tough on clothes, and that there wasn't a costume assistant credited in the programme but when the subject of your show is Coward, you do really have to look the part, and sadly the majority of the cast didn't.

Having said that, I left the theatre in a far, far better mood than I was when I went in, which is what theatre is for - or should be.  We caught this on the last night of the Greenwich run, but its touring until the first week in June so there's still time for you to catch this little gem of a review.  In different hands I suspect, however, that it might not be nearly so much good fun.

What the reviewers said:

http://www.whatsonstage.com/reviews/theatre/southeast/E8831303480050/Cowardy+Custard+(tour+%96+Radlett).html

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/culture/theatre/theatre-reviews/8446335/Cowardy-Custard-touring-review.html

http://www.thestage.co.uk/reviews/review.php/31861/cowardy-custard -

Alice in Wonderland - Royal Ballet @ ROH - Wednesday 2nd March 2011

Cast:
Alice: Lauren Cuthbertson
Jack/Knave of Hearts: Segei Polunin
Lewis Carroll/White Rabbit: Edward Watson
Queen of Hearts: Zenaida Yanowsky
King of Hearts: Christopher Saunders
Magican/Mad Hatter: Steven Mcrae
Caterpillar: Eric Underwood
Duchess: Simon Russell Beale
March Hare: Ricardo Cervera
Dormouse: James Wilkie
Cook: Kristen McNally
Frog Footman: Kenta Kura
Fish Footman: Ludovic Ondiviela

Creative Team:
Choreography: Christopher Wheeldon
Music: Joby Talbot
Designs: Bob Crowley
Lighting: Natasha Kutz

Yes, I know that this is a very, very late review! Blame my constant disorganisedness (is that a legitimate word?); its been sitting patiently on my WP for a couple of weeks while I’ve been trying to locate the programme in the enormous piles of paper that constitute my life at the mome in order to complete the cast list and creative team sections.  I haven't put in a synopsis because I'm sure that being a cultured and literary crowd, my readers are all familiar with the story!

On the face of it, Alice is a strange book to want to turn into a ballet (or indeed a film). Its extremely wordy, has very little plot to speak of, and apart from the opening and until the final chapters, lacks a real narrative thread, consisting almost entirely of brief, unconnected scenes which really wouldn’t suffer much if you shuffled them like a pack of cards and dealt them out in a different order. There is a multiplicity of characters who make brief appearances, not usually to return, and a lot of the book’s Edwardian charm lies in its wordplay – puns, anagrams, cultural references etc. Its not really until Alice finally reaches the Queen of Heart’s garden that things start falling into their proper places. It also requires a lot of “effects” – falling down rabbit holes, growing and shrinking etc., which are necessary to the story. So it’s quite a challenge to put on stage effectively – particularly when you are denied the medium of speech.

Mostly, it was handled very well – although often at the expense of dance. The Japanese lady I was sitting next too agreed with me in the interval that she would like to see more actual ballet content (although as it turned out there was to be plenty of this in the second act). Most of the first act was really rather like an expensively-staged “straight” show rather than ballet; the ROH technical crew were probably running round backstage like Mad March Hares. Fortunately, they seemed to be coping very well, although I am not sure that the Royal Ballet purists would really approve of so many back projections. I found myself thinking at a couple of points “look, lets get the “wow” stuff over and can we have some dancing, please?”. Some sections seemed overlong – the caucas race is dreary even in the book and would have benefited from being cut by about ½ (no dodo, I notice), but I noticed only one major omission in terms of scene and that was the Mock Turtle and Gryphon scene (I think this was a shame – it would have been lovely to have seen “The Lobster Quadrille” on stage!).

Another problem is the lack of a love interest for Alice – in the book she’s meant to be 8 or 9 or so. I felt that having Jack (the Gardener’s Boy in the prologue) turn into the Knave of Hearts really rather forced this issue into the story against its grain. It seemed a logical progression eventually, but did take rather a lot of getting used to. What I felt was completely unnecessary was the “resolution” – Edwardian Jack and Alice both appeared to have been dreaming (so that the story was effectively a dream within a dream) – they were really modern teenagers dozing on a bench outside the house which had been Alice’s in the story and which was now obviously some kind of National Trust-esque property with a “Mad Hatter’s Tea Shoppe” attached. This added an extra layer to the story and, very possibly, an extra layer of confusion.

I do wonder whether the Royal Ballet are going to get sucked into the “celebrity” vortex – I couldn’t see why Simon Russell Beale had been drafted in to play the Duchess other than the RB capitalising on his current “national treasure” status. Granted, its not really a major dancing role – SRB looked to be having to hoof with all of his puff at several points - but I’m sure that the RB could have brought in one of their “back catalogue” to play the role – possibly Monica Mason herself (Mason was a member of the company who never really rose above playing tiny roles such as various Fairies and “Friends-of-The-Heroine”; she went into administration (badly phrased - she didn't cease trading, just turned her hand to sorting out paperwork!)and is now the RB’s Director. She’s retiring soon and maybe this would have been a “farewell” role for her?).

Anyway, Act II was dominated by Zenaida Yanowsky as the Queen of Hearts, complete with a total piss-take of classical ballet in a cod “Rose Adagio” solo with four suitors (aping Sleeping Beauty) which even began with an identical musical phrase as the original. To those “in the know” this was a clever side-swipe. I did, however, think that making the QoH funny was a major mistake – OK, it opened up the ballet for younger members of the audience but, in the book, she is a terrifying (mostly unseen) presence and a real figure of horror when she does eventually appear. To make her a figure or fun dilutes the character considerably – even the Disney film (which I loathe) retains her status as someone to be avoided at all costs, and someone to be constantly beware of when you can’t.

Anyway, full credit must go to Bob Crowley for the clever costume designs (even though there were unexplained inconsistencies. Alice and her two sisters were wearing fancy dress costumes at curtain up, then changed into Edwardian half-crinolines quickly afterwards for no obvious reason, and the Playing Card Gardeners were dressed in costumes which suggested medieval jesters, again for no obvious reasons). I loved the flamingo and hedgehog costumes, and thought it very clever that all the playing cards were wearing white body stockings with what appeared to be foam rubber “tutus” cut into hearts, diamonds, clubs and spades. Particular mention must go to the poor sods dressed as topiary cones all evening – surely the most thankless roles in the entire ballet. “I’ve got a part in Alice, mum” “Really dear? How wonderful! Your first big break! What are you playing?” “Err…. A topiary tree”. “Oh. Well, never mind. Perhaps you’ll get to be a Friend-of-the-Heroine next season”.  They did, however, get a well deserved solo bow right at the end - cue much hilarity from the audience.

Judging by the audience’s reaction, this looks like its going to be a big success for the Royal Ballet – it only ran for about 5 performances initially in order to “test the water” but I gather there are more performances scheduled for the autumn. It will probably seriously challenge The Nutcracker as something to take the grandchildren to over Christmas. It was a fun, jolly evening with lots of technical wizardry, but ultimately very low on actual ballet.

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/culture/culturereviews/8353808/Alices-Adventures-in-Wonderland-Royal-Opera-House-review.html

http://www.independent.co.uk/arts-entertainment/theatre-dance/reviews/alices-adventures-in-wonderland-royal-opera-house-london-2228531.html

http://www.londondance.com/reviews_details.asp?C=Royal+Ballet&P=Alice's+Adventures+in+Wonderland&V=Royal+Opera+House

http://www.express.co.uk/entertainment/view/231970/Theatre-review-Alice-s-Adventure-s-In-Wonderland-The-Royal-Ballet-The-Royal-Opera-House

Iolanthe - Wiltons Music Hall, Wednesday 30th March 2011

Synopsis:

Twenty-five years previous to the action of the opera, Iolanthe, a fairy, had committed the capital crime of marrying a mortal. The Queen of the Fairies had commuted the death sentence to banishment for life, on condition that Iolanthe leave her husband without explanation and never see him again. Her son, Strephon, a shepherd, has grown up as half fairy, half mortal. Strephon loves Phyllis, a shepherdess who is also a Ward in Chancery. She returns his love, and knows nothing of his mixed origin.

The Queen is prevailed upon by other Fairies to recall Iolanthe from her exile. Strephon joins the glad reunion and announces his intention of marrying Phyllis in spite of the Lord Chancellor, her guardian, who refuses permission.

Meanwhile the entire House of Lords is enamoured of Phyllis. They appeal to the Lord Chancellor to give her to whichever Peer she may select. The Lord Chancellor is also suffering the pangs of love, but feels he has no legal right to assign Phyllis to himself. Phyllis declines to marry a Peer; Strephon pleads his cause in person to the Lord Chancellor, but in vain. Iolanthe enters and tries to console her son. Since she, like all Fairies, looks like a girl of seventeen, Phyllis and the Peers misinterpret the situation; they ridicule Strephon's claim that Iolanthe is his mother. Phyllis declares that she will now marry either Lord Mountararat or Lord Tolloller. Strephon summons the Fairies to his aid, who take their revenge on the Peers by sending Strephon to Parliament and influencing both Houses to pass any bills he may introduce. His innovations culminate in a bill to throw the Peerage open to competitive examination. The Peers appeal to the Fairies to desist. The Fairies have fallen in love with the Peers and would like to oblige, but it is too late to undo the spell. The Queen reproaches her subjects for their feminine weakness. She acknowledges her own weakness for a sentry on guard outside the Houses of Parliament, Private Willis, but asserts that she has it under control.

Lords Mountararat and Tolloller discover that if either loses Phyllis to the other, family tradition requires that they fight unto death; both therefore renounce Phyllis in the name of friendship. The Lord Chancellor, after considerable struggle, pleads his own cause before himself and convinces himself that the law will allow him to marry Phyllis.

Meanwhile Strephon makes Phyllis understand that his mother is a fairy, and they are reconciled. They persuade Iolanthe to appeal to the Lord Chancellor. When he resists her appeal, she reveals that she is his wife and thus again incurs the death penalty. The other Fairies, however, have married their respective Peers, and announce to the Queen that they all have incurred the same sentence. The Lord Chancellor suggests an amendment to Fairy Law which saves the situation – it becomes law that a Fairy must die if she doesn’t marry a mortal. In order to save her life, the Queen marries Private Willis. All is resolved happily, and everyone flies off to Fairyland.

Cast:
Iolanthe, a Fairy, Strephon’s mother – Christopher Finn
Lord Chancellor – Shaun McCourt
Fairy Queen – Alex Weatherhill
Strephon, an Arcadian Shepherd – Louis Maskell
Phyllis, an Arcadian Shepherdess and Ward of Chancery – Alan Richardson
Lord Tolloler – Matthew Willis
Lord Mountarrarat – Luke Fredericks
Celia, a Fairy– Reuben Kaye
Leila, another Fairy – Adam Lewis Ford
Private Willis, of the Grenadier Guards – Raymond Tate

Creative Team:
Director – Sasha Regan
Choreographer – Mark Smith
Musical Director – Christopher Mundy
Design – Stewart Charlesworth
Lighting – Steve Miller

Once again, hurry along to Wilton’s Music Hall to catch another all-male version of a G&S favourite. I waxed very lyrical about their production of The Pirates of Penzance back in April last year, and now I’m going to wax very lyrical about Iolanthe, which is presented very much in the same vein. Of course, any operetta that deals with the problem of having two political parties ruled over by one leader is going to be topical at the moment, so this show is as topical today as it was back in 1881, bringing an extra level of freshness to the satire, and the jokes seem as new and funny as the day they were written. It would, of course, be just that bit too easy to go over the top and camp up a show about fairies (particularly when the entire cast are male) but that’s the genius of these productions – they are played totally (for want of a better word) straight and, frankly, are much the better for it. Gone is the archness of many G&S productions I’ve sat through (and suffered through) and in its place you find a sparkling, paint-fresh show that’s full of wit and humour, and a goodly dollop of affection for tradition. The direction and choreography are, once again, bang on, and so full of wonderful little details that you would really have to see this at least twice in order to pick up on everything. Nobody’s attention flags for a moment, everyone on stage is alert, involved and picking up and reacting to cues verbal and visual. It looks effortless (which is a clear sign that everyone is working bloody hard), sounds great and is a joy from start to finish. In fact, just like before, I started to screen out the fact that I was watching men play women’s roles. If not as revelatory as the relationship between Frederick and Ruth in Pirates, I saw several things with fresh eyes and, probably for the very first time, felt a lump well up in my throat during the final scene between Iolanthe and the Lord Chancellor.

The company still lacks voices in the bass range in both chorus and principal roles – I found myself searching for some of the harmonies in the vocal lines and missing them. There are times when a bass-baritone role cannot be sung by someone with a much lighter voice and be musically convincing (or accurate). Charm and enthusiasm will get you a long way, but it won’t get you everywhere. I’m not sure whether it would be fair of me to say that there were too many “musical” voices on the stage at the expense of some trained “operetta” ones – although G&S can be technically demanding vocally, perhaps the “operetta sound” contributes to that feeling of slightly knowing archness which it was a relief not to have to deal with. The lack of archness in the dialogue, however, was a great pleasure and much to be applauded. It was delivered naturally, with simplicity and charm, which contributed greatly to my enjoyment of it (refer back to my Pirates review and the Henry Lytton quote within it); it takes considerable skill to make dialogue sound natural. The direction was extremely well done – simple and very touching where this was needed (in some of the dialogue between Strephon and Phyllis, for example, and during the Fairy Queen’s big number in Act 2), and appropriately complex and dense elsewhere.

If I have one minor criticism of the production (other than there being too few – if any – true basses in the company) then it was that the costuming of Iolanthe and Phyllis needs to be looked at. The chaps playing these roles are very, very similar physically and in terms of hair and eye colour, and as their costumes looked broadly similar, even I found myself getting slightly confused at some points over which was which. Yes, I know that this is a very minor point, but I think its justified.

Casting was (almost) perfect; Louis Maskell was the butchest, most credible Strephon I’ve seen, with great delivery, total belief in the dialogue and a wonderfully dark-chocolate voice to go with his beautiful dark-chocolate hair (the kind that you just ache to run your fingers (and possibly other body parts) through in order to muss it up. Whoever put him in that white shirt, fawn trousers and braces knows a great deal about how well-cut clothes show off the body underneath them. Lucky sheep! He made an excellent counterpoint to the smaller and slightly wispier Alan Richardson and their scenes together were very credible in an Arcadian kinda way. Alex Weatherhill was a warm yet dignified Fairy Queen, believably maternal yet remaining necessarily slightly detached from “her” troupe of dainty fairies. His vocal sound was firm and convincingly mezzo. Christopher Finn was a charming, beautiful and empathetic Iolanthe and Stuart McCourt a wonderfully “born middle-aged” Lord Chancellor. Raymond Tait was perhaps vocally miscast as Private Willis (the bass/bass-baritone role) but was funny and engaging and obviously possessed of great comic timing.

I can say without exaggeration that every single person in the audience last night went home feeling that they had been brilliantly entertained. I won’t say more – just go by yourself a ticket and see for yourself.

 The company's production of "HMS Pinafore" from 2007, which I desperately wish I had seen.

What the critics thought (these reviews are from the orignal Union Theatre run - the Wiltons run has a slightly different cast)

http://oughttobeclowns.blogspot.com/2010/11/review-iolanthe-union-theatre.html

http://webcowgirl.wordpress.com/2010/12/01/review-iolanthe-union-theatre/

http://www.musicomh.com/theatre/lon_iolanthe_1110.htm

http://www.guardian.co.uk/culture/2010/nov/24/iolanthe-review

Frankenstein - National Theatre, Monday 14th February 2011

Synopsis:

Dr. Victor Frankenstein spends years creating a creature out of human body parts, finally managing to bring his creation to life. Appalled by its ugliness, the creature is thrown out into the darkness of the night. After experiencing the joys of living, the creature is taunted and attacked by frightened villagers. It finds its way to the cabin of an old blind man, who takes pity on it and, unable to see its ugliness, teaches it to speak and read. It is attacked by his frightened family who drive it away – it returns and burns down the cabin in revenge, killing them.

After a year of wandering, the creature finds its way back to Geneva, home of Frankenstein, where the doctor is preparing to marry Elizabeth. The creature abducts and kills William, Frankenstein’s much younger brother. Frankenstein tracks the creature to the mountains, where the creature begs him for a mate. Appalled, Frankenstein however manages to find the idea stimulating and agrees, journeying to Scotland, where he creates a female creature from dead bodies. The creature is entranced, but Frankenstein is struck by doubts concerning the morality of what he has done and destroys his second creation. The creature vows revenge.

Frankenstein returns to Geneva and marries Elizabeth, who is cornered in her room by the creature and raped before being brutally killed. Frankenstein swears to devote the rest of his life to destroying his creation and begins his quest to track the creature down, eventually locating it among the polar ice. The creature tells him that it will end its existence only if Frankenstein dies first. They disappear into a snowstorm, never to return.

Cast:
Victor Frankenstein - Benedict Cumberbatch
William Frankenstein - Haydon Downing
Klaus - Steven Elliott
M. Frankenstein - George Harris
Elizabeth Lavenza - Naomie Harris
De Lacey- Karl Johnson
Felix - Daniel Millar
The Creature - Jonny Lee Miller
Female Creature - Andreea Padurariu
Gretel/Clarice - Ella Smith
Ewan - John Stahl
Agatha - Lizzie Winkler

Creative Team:
Original Story – Mary Shelley
Adaptation – Nick Dear
Director - Danny Boyle
Designer - Mark Tildesley
Costume DesignerSuttirat - Anne Larlarb
Lighting Designer - Bruno Poet
Director of Movement - Toby Sedgwick
Fight Directorn - Kate Waters
Music and Soundscore – Underworld

Ah, Valentine’s Day. A time for roses, chocolates, intimate dinners a deux – apparently. Or indeed more gothic horror. I’ve recently reviewed Dracula and Jekyll and Hyde, there’s been a noteworthy production of The Invisible Man at the Chocolate Factory, Being Human is back on TV (mmmm, sexy werewolves……) and now its time for the big flat-headed creature with the bolts through its neck (Run, children! Its George Osborne!). Next week will probably see a trip to see Carry On Screaming at this rate. Mary Shelley’s little gothic number is obviously an A Level set text this year, because the place was teeming with the spawn of the devil – sorry, students. Fortunately most of them were quite well behaved for a change.

I wasn’t really quite sure what to expect from this, but sure as hell didn’t get it. I did have visions of mad scientists cackling away in laboratories during thunderstorms while hordes of villagers waved pitchforks at the castle gates but this production is very well mannered, extremely visual, more or less true to the original Shelley novel and just that bit too humorous to be properly scary. In fact, I foresee that some of the unintentionally funny lines may well be cut before opening night in a couple of weeks time; the production would be better for it. What really needs to be cut is the actor who plays Frankenstein’s father; George Harris has absolutely no visible acting talent whatsoever and who is a disgrace to his profession. Should there ever be a play in which one of the characters is a wooden plank, then this guy will be up for a BAFTA.

There are holes in the plot that you could drive a truck through, unfortunately – having spent years creating his “creature”, Dr. Frankenstein throws it out into the night (a dark and stormy one, obviously) for no better reason than because it is “ugly”. Obviously Frankenstein has a very under-developed sense of aesthetics as Jonny Lee Miller makes a very pretty creature indeed – all biceps, jawline and truly calipygean buttocks. What is the point of the enormous train, other than to make a lot of noise and a bit of theatrical spectacle? Where are the blind man’s daughter and her husband during the year it takes the creature to learn to speak? Having abducted the Doctor’s younger brother, the “creature” then kills the child for no apparent reason (or maybe the child simply dies; this point is never really explained) and then sends the body back in a boat which somehow manages to sail in the opposite direction to the current. Does Frankenstein later manage to reanimate this particular corpse, or is he merely having a conversation with the child’s ghost? Having agreed to provide the creature with a female companion, Frankenstein then suddenly develops a sense of morals and destroys her, much to the creature’s consternation as it plans to run off with its bride and live in the forests of South America of all places. Say wa? How does it intend to get there from Geneva, we ask? And how does the creature manage to live in the frozen wastes of the Arctic? Has it got antifreeze instead of blood? What does it eat? Fortunately these points go unnoticed while you are actually watching the play, which certainly pulls out all the theatrical stops in terms of visuals – but I’m sure many of the audience will need to be taking a cork along with them because, once again, there is no interval. What is it at the moment with no-interval plays?

Many of the early scenes are played with wonderful simplicity – in the wrong hands, these could have been mawkish, but they are handled with a great lightness of touch. Later scenes get more portentous and overdo the “Hammer Horror” touch a bit, particularly those set in the Scottish Highlands, where there is a touch too much lightning and gothic gloom, leavened with an over-heavy hand with forelock-tugging “comedy villagers” with Brigadoon accents and an unexplained abundance of useful cadavers for the Doctor to use as spares. Probably the best thing in purely visual terms is the device used to simulate lightning – hundreds of lightbulbs of different sizes glittering in waves. Late in the play, these are spotlight from the sides with blue light, and the whole thing becomes an enormous, coldly glittering iceberg which I could have sat and watched all night.

The true challenge of this play is that the lead roles of Dr. Frankenstein and his “creature” are being alternated by Cumberbatch and Miller – it would be very interesting to see how the play changes when the roles are swapped. Is this truly an experiment in theatre or just a cynical marketing ploy devised by the National to get the audience to come back twice? Whatever the reason, I imagine that it’s quite a frightening experience for both to hear “their” words being spoken back at them by someone wearing “their” costume. I think, on reflection, that we saw the right performance – Cumberbatch makes a very refined and credible Frankenstein but I can’t really imagine him stripped down and parading his todger to the audience as the “creature”. Miller made a sympathetic “creature” and really rather lumbers away with the show, but needs to tone down his “Yesh, marshter” vocals a bit as I kept getting mental imagesh of Louish Spensch from the Pineapple Dansh Schudiosch.

Overall, I really enjoyed this. It managed to both overcome my expectations and at the same time exceed them. Some of the comedy needs to be cut, and the schlock-horror Gothicism needs lightening (as opposed to lightning). Cumberbatch sports a truly frightening wig, but what is truly frightening about this play is how badly the human race comes off in terms of morality. We lie, cheat, steal and hate, and it takes a so-called “creature” to show us our faults. For most of the evening, the production refuses to pander to the Frankenstein stereotypes and there’s not a bolt through the neck in sight. There are, however, some very muscular buttocks. I left the theatre musing gently as to where one might procure such a pair for oneself.

What the critics said:

(this was a preview performance, pro reviews will be posted after opening night.  Tickets are like hot cakes, however, and have recently been spotted selling on Ebay for upwards of £150 a pair.  Get in quick!)

Twelfth Night - National Theatre, Saturday 29th January 2011

Synopsis:

Viola has been shipwrecked in a violent storm off the coast of Illyria; in the process she has lost her twin brother, Sebastian. She disguises herself as a boy and assumes the name Cesario for protection. Thus disguised, Viola becomes a page in the service of Orsino, the Duke. It seems that Orsino is having little luck courting Olivia, who is in mourning for the death of her brother. As Orsino's proxy, Viola is sent to Olivia with love letters. Viola refuses to budge until she is let in to see Olivia; Olivia, intrigued by the impudent young "boy," contrives to get "Cesario" to return by sending her steward, Malvolio, after her with one of Olivia's rings. Viola realizes to her dismay that Olivia has fallen for her Cesario rather than Duke Orsino—further complicated by the fact that Viola has had stirrings herself for Orsino.

Sebastian (Viola's twin, presumed dead) comes ashore in Illyria thinking that Viola has drowned in the shipwreck. A man named Antonio rescued him from the surf, and continues to aid him—at some risk to himself, as Antonio fought against the Duke at one time. Meanwhile, in Olivia's house, Sir Toby Belch (her uncle) has hoodwinked a foppish Sir Andrew Aguecheek into supporting him by convincing him that he could be a suitor to Olivia. There is a running feud between Malvolio , the House Steward, and Belch; with the help of Maria, Olivia's maid, and Feste, a clown, Belch plots to make a buffoon of the steward. Maria writes a love letter to Malvolio that will make him think Olivia has fallen for him. Malvolio falls entirely for the sport, which eventually leads to his confinement as a madman.

All the while, Belch is egging Sir Andrew into a duel with Viola's "Cesario" character as she departs from Olivia; Olivia is now entirely smitten with Cesario, even though Viola continues to press Orsino's cause. As Viola and Sir Andrew prepare for a duel that neither one wants, Antonio happens upon the scene. Believing Viola to be Sebastian, he intervenes and is arrested. Viola, of course, does not recognize Antonio. Later, Belch and Sir Andrew encounter Sebastian, who doesn't back down from Aguecheek when challenged and resoundingly beats him. Olivia intervenes in the matter, and - mistaking Sebastian for Viola/Cesario - presses her suit for him. A bemused Sebastian agrees to marry her. Antonio is brought before the Duke for questioning, and Viola relates the events of the duel. Antonio tells everyone how hedragged "this man" from the surf, saving his life. Then Olivia enters, searching for her new husband—who she thinks is Viola (as Cesario).

Adding to this confusion, Belch and Aguecheek enter claiming that Viola/Cesario has violently assaulted them. In the midst of Viola's denials, Sebastian appears. The brother and sister recognize one another and are reunited; Sebastian helps to clear the confusion as to who fought who and who married who. At the end, Orsino and Viola pledge their love, Olivia and Sebastian will remain satisfactorily wed, and Olivia rebukes Belch and Maria for their abuse of Malvolio, who vows his revenge upon the whole lot. Belch agrees to wed Maria to make up for getting her in trouble, and all—except the disgruntled Malvolio—will apparently live happily ever after.

Cast:
Orsino – Marton Gsokas
Curio – Joseph Timms
Valentine – Richard Keightley
Viola – Rebecca Hall
Sir Toby – Simon Callow
Maria – Finty Williams
Sir Andrew – Charles Edwards
Feste – David Ryall
Olivia – Amanda Drew
Malvolio – Simon Paisley Day
Sebastian – Ben Mansfield

Creative Team
Director – Peter Hall
Designer – Anthony Ward
Lighting – Peter Mumford
Music – Mick Sands

Dear Sir Peter Hall
As it is nearly your 80th birthday, would you like to come and direct a production of Twelfth Night for us here at the National? Unfortunately, only the Cottesloe Theatre is available. However, because the Cottesloe is very small indeed, this will at least guarantee that not many tickets will need to be sold before we can put the “House Full” signs up outside.

Yours sincerely

Nicholas Hytner

Artistic Director

National Theatre

Dear Mr. Hytner
Yes, I would love to. My daughter, who has appeared in many of my productions at the Theatre Royal Bath, would like to play the lead role of Viola, as this is a part she hasn’t played before and would like to add to her CV. I would also like her photograph to appear on the front cover of the programme. Please let me know if this will be possible.

There is no such thing as a small theatre, only small directors. The fact that the production has my name plastered all over it will guarantee that it will be a complete sell-out for the entirety of its run.

Yours sincerely
Sir Peter Hall

Dear Sir Peter
Yes, we are prepared to let your daughter take the lead in this production. We will “ringfence” the auditions and, regardless of the quality of the other actresses attending the audition, will cast her. We are assuming that, because she is your daughter and has appeared in many of your previous productions (albeit a long way outside London), she can actually act? We only ask as the role of Viola is very difficult and is usually played by very experienced actresses such as Vivien Leigh, Zoe Wannamaker and Judi Dench. We presume you know (having done quite a bit of directing before) that Viola spends most of the play “disguised” as a man. Will this be a problem?

Yours sincerely

Nicholas Hytner

Artistic Director

Dear Nicholas
Thank you for your kind letter. I telephoned my daughter today to let her know that you will be calling her for an audition. In order to save time, she will bring the signed contract offering her the role (which arrived yesterday in the post) with her.

As you mention my good friend Judi Dench (whom I directed recently in A Midsummer Night’s Dream down in the suburbs somewhere), I wonder if you might be able to find a part in Twelfth Night for her daughter Finty? Finty is not a terribly talented actress and has received quite a lot of bad press for having inherited neither her mother’s nor her father’s acting ability. This should not be a major problem as we will put her in the “comedy role” of Maria. Between ourselves, my daughter is not terribly talented either; despite many years of coaching and appearing in many of my productions, she cannot seem to do very much with her arms or hands and, in fact, tends to leave her arms hanging down by her sides for much of the time. This has caused some problems in the past in productions (which I directed) where she has had to pick things up from tables or shake other people by the hand. I have repeatedly advised her to try and use her arms and hands a bit, even if it is only raising them slightly and waving them about in time to the lines, but she seems unable to move them at all unless she flings her entire body around from side to side, at which point her arms flap about a bit. I will try and get round this problem in my direction by not giving her very much to do (or indeed giving anyone very much to do). We will be able to get round this problem by saying that the direction is “minimalistic”.

Unfortunately, my darling daughter has problems with acting, let alone acting the part of a woman acting as a man, so I won’t bother her with this additional problem. I’ll just ask her to do it all in her normal voice. She is very good at gurning, I remember, so when any emotion is called for, I can get her to do that.

There are a couple of other people my daughter and I know very well and I wondered if you could find parts in the play for them? The chap who played Oberon for me opposite dear darling Judi in Dream has done a lot of work for me and perhaps we could cast him as Sir Andrew? He is very good and very funny and could possibly be the best Sir Andrew people have seen in a long time. He is very tall, which helps, as this is mentioned in the script.

I am very fond of the TV series Outnumbered, and wondered if we could cast the guy who plays the grandfather as something? He is, alas, a bit of a gloomy old cove, has a face like a melted trifle, has no feeling for comedy and cannot sing for toffee. Perhaps I could cast him as Feste? You know, the clown? The one who tells jokes and sings a lot?

I also like Brian Blessed and find him very funny, particularly when he roars all his words and shakes his jowls about. Is he available?

Kind regards,
Peter Hall

Dear Peter
Of course you may cast the children of your very good friends in our production, regardless of how talented they are. We contacted Brian Blessed but he was not available – perhaps if we cast Simon Callow and ask him to do an impression of Mr. Blessed? That would be very funny – although possibly a little wearing for the audience. Let us know what you think. The guy who plays the grandfather in Outnumbered is really excited about being able to work with you and slaughter both the comedy and the songs. We will hire a 5 piece orchestra of obscure period instruments such as the mandola and the nykelharpa, spend lots of money dressing the musicians in lovely period costumes and then hide them away in a bit of the auditorium where very few people can see them, and then ask them to play really really loudly so that the old guy from Outnumbered is drowned out a bit.

Unfortunately, we are a bit short of money for the set. Have you ever directed Twelfth Night on an empty stage? You are welcome to come and have a rummage around in our stockroom for odds and ends to use (we have some lovely screens with trees on which you could use for the garden scene. They are completely wrong for the Shakespearian period, being kind of 1880s aesthetic-type things, but they were very expensive and have only been used a couple of times before. Would you be able to use these?). We do have a couple of seats which you could use, but we cannot afford a trapdoor in the floor to use in the prison scene. Please let us know what you think.

Best regards,
Nick

Hi Nick
I like the idea of asking my very good chum Simon to do an impression of Brian Blessed. Clever!

There should be no problem having nothing on the stage; in fact my daughter’s hands do tend to keep catching on bits of furniture if she is not careful so this would be a very good solution to the problem. My cleaning lady has a large collection of those awful Lilliput Lane china cottages which she has collected from adverts in Woman’s Own, and she will let me borrow them as long as we keep them safe. We can put all these up in a line on a long shelf on the back wall of the theatre and they will look like a little village in the distance. My daughter made a guy for Bonfire Night last year and we could drag that onto the stage and pretend that it is a shipwrecked sailor in my daughter’s first big scene – she can point at it and look doleful. I’ve got a lovely tablecloth with a leaf design printed on it, which we can hang over the stage and raise and lower at various points.

It’s a nuisance that you haven’t a proper dungeon, but in the shed I think there is an enormous birdcage left over from when our parrot, Humphrey, died of Bird Flu. We’ll put Malvolio in that for the dungeon scene [note to self: remove Tidi-San from the bottom and clean out the food trays]. We miss Humphrey very much; he was very good at helping my daughter learn her lines. In fact, sometimes we could barely tell the difference! How we would laugh!

All the best,
Pete

p.s

Have you anyone in mind for the thankless role of Sebastian? You know, the “twin brother” of Viola? I rather like that sexy young guy who’s played a couple of very similar parts to this one at the Open Air Theatre in Regent’s Park. Of course, he doesn’t look anything like my daughter, but we can get round this by getting him to shave his beard off and wear a lank and silly wig. That’ll fool the plebs in the audience completely.

p.p.s

What about costumes?

Dear Pete
Costumes shouldn’t be a worry – we have some lovely ones in clashing colours. Simon Callow’s is purple, your daughter and the sexy guy from Regent’s park will be in cerise and we have a lovely acid orange frock going spare; maybe you could cast someone as Olivia who would fit into it? There are various other costumes in pale blue, and of course lots of servant’s costumes in dung brown with little caps and aprons. We’ll get both the girls playing maids to wear dung brown with little aprons so that, when your daughter has to pick out the woman playing Olivia, nobody will be able to guess which is which! (btw, we’ve got the woman playing Olivia in a really lovely black silk gown with an Elizabethan collar at this point, so she will look totally different to the two women in dung brown with little aprons. But we will give all three of them little black lacy veils to hide their faces with. Nobody will notice).

We do worry that your daughter and Judi Dench’s daughter might look a bit upstaged by the guy we’ve got to play Malvolio. He is very thin and sneery looking, and also acts extremely well. In fact, he might actually turn out to be one of the best members of the cast. Never fear – we have a really odd guy from New Zealand to play Orsino. He speaks just like Jilly Goolden did when she was going a bit over the top describing a bottle of vino collapse – you know, all fruity and pompous. In fact, he’s so OTT he will draw all the attention away from anyone on stage who is really good.

Tickets are selling really, really well and your daughter looks lovely in the photograph on the front cover of the programme. We look forward to seeing her at the auditions next week.

Break a leg!
Love and kisses
Your good chum Nick

Dear Pete,
The reviews are in.
Sorry. 
Nick

http://www.timeout.com/london/theatre/event/203300/twelfth-night

http://www.independent.co.uk/arts-entertainment/theatre-dance/reviews/twelfth-night-national-theatre-cottesloe-london-2189046.html

http://www.islingtontribune.com/reviews/theatre/2011/jan/theatre-review-twelfth-night-cottesloe-theatre

http://www.guardian.co.uk/stage/2011/jan/19/twelfth-night-review-michael-billington


 

Jekyll & Hyde - Churchill Theatre Bromley, Monday 24th January 2010

Synopsis:

A short introduction sees Henry Jekyll tending to his father in an asylum for the insane. It is Jekyll's belief that the evil in his father's soul has caused his illness, and he swears to investigate a way of separating good from evil.

Jekyll presents a research proposal to the Board of Governors of St. Jude's Hospital. All, with the exception of Sir Danvers, the Chair, are pompous, rich semi-hypocrites. When Jekyll proposes to test his theory and his formula on a human subject, they reject the proposal. Utterson urges his friend, if he feels he is right about his theory, that he should continue with his research.

Sir Danvers throws an engagement party for his daughter Emma's engagement to Dr. Jekyll. Stride, who has feelings for Emma, tries to reason her out of her engagement, but she quickly turns him down, saying she feels she can be who she wants to be with Jekyll.

Jekyll and Utterson go to a dingy pub. Prostitute Lucy Harris arrives late and is in for some trouble with the boss, known as "the Spider"; Lucy begins to circulate among the clientèle. Jekyll and Lucy are drawn to each other Before he goes, he gives Lucy his visiting card and asks her to see him should she ever need anything.

Jekyll proceeds to his laboratory, excited that the moment has come to do his experiment Keeping tabs on the experiment in his journal, he mixes his chemicals to create his formula, and injects it into the subject: himself. After a minute of the potion's side effects, he writhes in pain, transforming into an evil form of himself. He gives himself a name: Edward Hyde.

Lucy arrives at Jekyll's residence with a nasty bruise on her back. As Jekyll treats it, she tells him a man named Hyde did it. Later, the Bishop of Basingstoke is attacked by Hyde after the Bishop is seen by him to engage prostitutes.

The citizens of London gossip about the Bishop's murder. After the funeral, General Glossop and Lord Savage leave St. Paul's, mourning over their deceased colleague. Hyde corners Glossop and stabs him through the mouth with the swordstick while Teddy watches, petrified in horror. Stride quickly enters the scene, just in time to see Hyde escape. As Londoners discuss the second murder, Later one night, Teddy is seen leaving the Mayfair Club with Sir Proops and Lady Beaconsfield. Hyde emerges from the shadows, pulls out a dagger and stabs Archie in the side before snapping Bessie's neck with her own diamonds. Teddy,seizes the opportunity to escape but is cornered by Hyde at Victoria Station as he tries to flee London. Hyde breaks Teddy’s neck and kicks his corpse onto the tracks. By now, all five Governors who rejected Jekyll's proposal are dead.

Emma lets herself into Jekyll's laboratory. She finds his journal open and reads one of his entries. Jekyll begins to face the fact that Hyde is a part of him. At the same time, both Lucy and Emma wonder about their love for the same.

Lucy is then visited by Hyde, who tells her that he is going away for a while. He then warns her to never leave him Lucy is terrified, but seems to be held under a sexual, animalistic control by Hyde. Utterson comes to Jekyll's lab and discovers Hyde, who injects the formula into himself, roaring with laughter as he transforms back into Jekyll in front of an appalled Utterson. Jekyll tells Utterson that Hyde must be destroyed, whatever the cost. He then begs Utterson to deliver money for Lucy so she can escape to safety. Utterson visits Lucy with the money, along with a letter from Jekyll that entreats her to leave town and start a new life elsewhere. After Utterson leaves, Lucy wonders of the possibilities ahead. Hyde returns; he slowly and savagely kills her. Covered in blood from stabbing Lucy, Jekyll returns to his laboratory and faces off with Hyde in a final battle for control.

Several weeks later, Jekyll seems to have won as he and Emma stand before the priest at their wedding.. As the Minister begins the ceremony, Jekyll doubles over in pain and transforms into Hyde. Hyde then kills Stride before taking Emma hostage. At the sound of Emma's pleading voice, Jekyll is able to regain momentary control. He begs Utterson to kill him, but Utterson cannot bring himself to harm his friend. Desperate, Jekyll impales himself on Utterson's swordstick. Emma weeps softly as Jekyll dies.

Cast:

Dr Henry Jekyll/Mr Hyde – Marti Pellow

Lucy – Sabrina Carter

Emma – Sarah Earnshaw

Sir Danvers – David Delve

Utterson – Mark McGee

Lady Beconsfield/Nellie – Amira Matthews

Simon Stride – Michael Taibi

Glossop – Martin Dickinson

Proops – Matt Stevens

Lord Savage/Spider – Jacob Chapman

Bishop of Basingstoke – Jon de Ville

Poole – James Gant

Bissett – Daniel Robinson

Creative Team:

Book/Lyrics: Leslie Bricusse

Music: Frank Wildhorn

Director: Martin Connor

Choreography: Bill Deamer

Set: Mark Bailey

Costumes: Jonathan Lipman

Ah, the cult of celebrity. When people “famous” for one thing try their hand at something else and believe they are good at it. Just because you’re a singer, it must therefore follow that you will be a whizz at musical theatre, right? WRONG. Its only going to expose your shortcomings, particularly when surrounded on stage by people who aren’t famous but are actually good at what they’re doing. Mr. Pellow, having gained a reasonable amount of success in the late 80s in Wet Wet Wet, tries gamely to convince us all that because he can hold a tune we’ll be duped into believing that he can act, but fails miserably. Oh, the boy can sing, but his shortcomings are cruelly highlighted in this show by those who make a living out of being in musicals. Basically, the professionals mop the floor with him. Not only can they hold a tune, they can also enunciate while holding it. Mr. Pellow does a fairly good impression of a Blue Whale for a lot of the evening; all you can hear are vowel sounds. Oooo eeee aaaaahhhh owww eeiiiiii ooooouwwww. There are very few consonants, and certainly no T’s, no D’s, no B’s or K’s to be heard. While they are using him as a mop, the professionals also manage to act convincingly, making a credible attempt to perform what on closer inspection is fairly risible dialogue. Mr. Pellow flails about trying to convince us of his acting credentials, but only manages to look self conscious and faintly ridiculous in their company. Basically, the professionals work their cotton socks off, walk away with the entire evening and leave Pellow treading water in their wake. However, Mr. Pellow is a “name”, so gets the star treatment – a “big star walk down” at the end of the bows, with his two leading ladies (who have sung their tits off all evening) forced to do a “here comes the star” gesture by turning halfway upstage and holding their upstage arm out to him. Cue whooping, ovating and probably ovulating from the mums in the audience who bought Wet Wet Wet’s CDs in the late 1980s and who have dragged their unwilling husbands along this evening (a wonderful press release from the Churchill received the day after this performance was headed “Standing Ovations Greet Bromley Premiere!” – I think I counted about 8 people in the entire theatre who thought it necessary to stand up and clap, which is hardly a “standing ovation”. In fact, Him Indoors also got up, and I hissed “Sit down! People will think you liked it!” He was actually getting up to make a quick getaway from the strange couple from Upminster sitting next to us, but I didn’t realise that at this point.

Admittedly, a lot of the problem is the material. Jekyll (correctly pronounced as to rhyme with “treacle” and not “heckle”) and Hyde suffers from a mismatch between libretto and score. The former was written by the guy who wrote the music for Victor/Victoria, songs such as “If I Ruled the World” (for the musical Pickwick), “If I could Talk to the Animals” (for Dr. Doolittle), “You Only Live Twice” for the James Bond film and “Ooompa Loompa Doompity Doo” for Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Basically, the man has a track record. The latter was written by the composer of such hit shows as The Scarlet Pimpernel, The Count of Monte Cristo, Camille Claudel, Svengali and Harlem Song. No, me neither. What doesn’t help is that the score feels extremely dated already, as its written in the same “sung through” style (ie with very little actual dialogue but lots of very dull recitative) as Les Mis, Phantom and Notre Dame de Paris. This plonks it very firmly in the mid to late 1980s or early 1990s, when the genre had been done to death and the public were getting tired with it. In overall style and feel, it bears a remarkable family resemblance to Lloyd Webber’s The Woman in White, which basically killed off not only the “sung through” style but also the “gothic musical”, of which so many of the “sung through” genre are examples. You only have to look at the hoohaa that Love Never Dies caused when it opened to realise that this style is one particular theatrical corpse that should have been left to sink to the bottom of the river rather than being dragged out and resuscitation attempts made on the shore. Jekyll and Hyde lumbers along like a reanimated cadaver, zombie-like, with squelchy bits dropping off it occasionally.

Another problem is what I would inelegantly call “over-wroughtness” Its all so earnest, but schlock-horror (you know – dark alleyways, rolling fog with mysterious caped figures flitting about it in, Whitechapel prostitutes and laboratory shelves covered in glass bottles) has to be handled very carefully lest it descend into parody. Jekyll and Hyde tries very hard to be taken seriously – too hard in fact; it ends up crossing that very fine line – and becomes risible. In fact, it began to remind me of “The Phantom Raspberry Blower of Olde London Town” by the Two Ronnies (YouTube clip below – hysterical!).

Probably the major obstacle to this particular production's success is Pellow himself. Seemingly unable to make any discernable difference between the morally upright Dr. Jekyll and his brutal alter ego save stooping his shoulders, donning a cape with an enormous fur collar and jamming a top hat over his ears, Pellow gibbers around the stage trying to be evil, somehow managing to avoid being recognised by intelligent people who have known him as Jekyll for 20 years or more. Hyde is supposed to be brutal, animalistic and sexually dangerous, but Him Indoors summed it up by saying “Marti Pellow is about as sexually dangerous as a bowl of raspberry jelly”. Pellow’s lack of acting skill is cruelly exposed during the denouement, in which he plays Jekyll to a projected film of him as Hyde. The two are supposed to be in conversation, but Pellow isn’t an experienced enough actor to “hit his marks” and Jekyll never seems to be in the place where Hyde’s eyes are looking.

Thankfully, the rest of the cast act and sing and dance round Mr. Pellow in an attempt to cover up most of his faults, but leave him stranded and looking, as I’ve already said, faintly ridiculous. Sabrina Carter invests her “tart with a heart” with a great deal of heart, lots of cleavage and a hideous wig, and belts out her numbers with style, volume and an impressive technique. In fact, it really is rather a shame that her character gets brutally raped and murdered (for which read “fumbled with inexpertly and unconvincingly”) by Hyde just as she is about to flee London in search of a better life (a plot “twist” which is about as hackneyed as a horse-drawn cab). She is all but matched by Sarah Earnshaw as Emma, but Carter has just that bit more lung capacity and manages to outsing Earnshaw by 3½ bars in their duet (which bears more than a passing resemblance in style, construction, content and placement within the show to “I Know Him So Well” from Chess). Everyone else changes costumes every 12 seconds in order to try and populate the entire stage, doubling and tripling and quadrupling up to be named characters, aristocrats, cockerneys, prostitutes and general ensemble (although one particular costume should never have been sanctioned – the Bishop of Basingstoke appears in Cardinal’s robes during the engagement scene. Not only did England not have any Catholic Bishops during the 19th century, appearing in such a costume would have been unthinkable and unheard of for a Church of England Bishop. Costume Designer fouled up big time on that one). In the main, they do a reasonable job of propping up the body, but  in the light of the musical shortcomings, over-wrought plot and dated overall style of the piece, it will probably spend the rest of its shelf life touring the provinces until it sinks mercifully to its end in the Elephant’s Graveyard of Musical Theatre. If you’ve got all of Wet Wet Wet’s CDs you might enjoy it, but otherwise it’s a mis-shapen monster that should have been put out of its misery long ago.

Beasts and Beauties - Hampstead Theatre, Thursday 30th December 2010

Synopsis:

Classic tales from Grimm, Andersen, Aesop and Perrault, mixed in with less well-known children’s stories from around the world.

Cast:
Justin Avoth

Elaine Claxton

Rhiannon Harper-Rafferty

Emily Mytton

Al Nedjari

Jack Tarlton

Jason Thorpe

Kelly Williams

Creative Team:

Writer : Carol Ann Duffy

Director: Melly Still

Design: Melly Still, Anna Fleischle

Lighting;Chris Davey

Music: Dave Price

Costumes: Ilona Karas

Anyone who has ever been a child will remember how exciting it was to be read stories at bedtime, and this evening’s outing served to confirm that the magic of storytelling is alive and well. This was a deceptively simple evening, during which various fairy stories from different countries were presented on stage by a small, extremely talented cast backed up by an even more talented musician, a (very) large box of what were essentially dressing up costumes and lots and lots of props and found objects. Designed by the same person who did the Young Vic production of Grimm Tales which I saw more years ago than I care to remember, this was a production in essentially the same vein –“we provide the stage, a few costumes and a few props, and you bring your imagination”. Its success proves that, with imagination, anything is possible. It’s a pity, therefore, that the adults in the audience far outnumbered the children, as this production would have been guaranteed to weave its spell over the young and make them theatregoers for life.

From the technical point of view it was an extremely challenging show, with dozens of large items like stepladders dropping down from the ceiling or popping up from under the stage (in fact, during the interval, there were as many backstage staff hanging new props from the ceiling as there had been actors on stage during the performance), merely proving that “simple” can be really, really complicated. Costuming must have been an absolute nightmare, as the majority of stories needed the full cast and each story was presented in a different style, necessitating hundreds of costume items. Particularly inventive were the animal costumes, showing that strict adherence to reality – or indeed anything approaching realism - is not necessary when you have a talented costume designer. My favourite (and, judging by the audience reaction, many other peoples’ too) was the cow costume, which was essentially a long flared tweed skirt, a baggy white shirt, a pair of large false eyelashes, a cowbell and a pink rubber glove. Judging by the near-hysterical laughter of a little girl at the other end of our row, her vote probably went for the costume worn by Jack Tarlton as the Emperor in “The Emperor’s New Clothes” which consisted of a crown, grey shoes, yellow socks and a strategically placed clipboard, flag or bunch of flowers.

What particularly liked was that each story was presented in a different way – Bluebeard was set in the 1820s, Beauty and the Beast in Renaissance Italy, The Emperor’s New Clothes in modern dress, with others in more-or-less “traditional fairy story costumes” or in improvised costumes, or even in a blend of different styles. One of the stories (which I wasn’t familiar with and which dealt with an unlikely alliance between an old dog and a cunning wolf and which, on reflection, was probably an obscure Aesop’s Fable) was presented “junkyard style” – the guy playing the dog wore odd carpet slippers, baggy brown cords and a threadbare Fair-Isle pullover and scenery such as the windmill, the forest and a broken window were drawn on transparent film and projected onto the walls using OHPs. Another story, that of a man dissatisfied with his work who swaps places with his wife for a day, used “Grimm-style” costumes for the “humans” but slightly surreal costumes for the “animals” – such as the cow costume I’ve referred to earlier. A stepladder became the gable of the house on which the cow ultimately gets stuck – and that was that. As I said before, just add imagination. Also very good was the fact that these weren’t the saccharine, Disney-fied versions of the stories; the Beast in Beauty and the Beast was truly beastly, Bluebeard was smoothly charming but plausibly evil, the “chopping up the child” scene in The Juniper Tree (done in silhouette) was really, really frightening and the Troll Hag in the story about the North Wind (Scandinavian in origin, by the looks of) was so gruesome that at least one child was carried screaming from the auditorium. And a bloody good job too – half the appeal of this kind of story is that children love being scared witless as long as good is seen to triumph eventually and evil seen to be punished. Did you know that Beauty’s horrible sisters were turned to statues outside her castle gates so that they had to spend all eternity watching their sister coming and going in happiness? No, nor did I – but it makes a very satisfying ending to see on the stage.

The sheer amount of energy on stage was amazing - and exhausting.  One of the adapters is apparently in the process of creating a similar production based on The Thousand and One Nights, and if its anything near as inventive and entertaining as Beasts and Beauties, then believe me I’m first in the queue for tickets.

What the critics thought:

http://www.thisislondon.co.uk/theatre/review-23907607-power-of-the-fairytale-in-beasts-and-beauties.do

http://www.guardian.co.uk/stage/2010/dec/16/beasts-and-beauties-review

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/culture/theatre/theatre-reviews/8208769/Beasts-and-Beauties-Hampstead-theatrePotted-Panto-Vaudeville-theatre-review.html

http://www.independent.co.uk/arts-entertainment/theatre-dance/reviews/beasts-and-beauties-hampstead-theatre-london-2165456.html