Passion - Donmar Theatre, Monday 13th September 2010

Synopsis:

Italy, 1863. Giorgio, a young soldier, is bidding farewell to his mistress, Clara. He is to join his new regiment in the outposts of northern Italy . She, already being married, cannot accompany him, but they agree to write to each other regularly. Giorgio is a man going places; he has the confidence of his commanding officer, Colonel Ricci and is well-liked by his fellow officers.

Doctor Tambourri, the regimental doctor, is caring for a special patient, Fosca, the cousin of the garrison commander. She is ugly, ungainly and a recluse, seeking seclusion in books, which are her only passion and which are in short supply in the garrison. Giorgio lends her some of his. He is somewhat a dreamer but Fosca craves intellectual stimulus, and though frail and with an illness that manifests itself in hysterical convulsions, she clings to him.

In letters, Clara warns Giorgio to keep Fosca at arm's length but she becomes increasingly dependent on him, passing him surreptitious notes. Giorgio, realising the deep involvement Fosca has with him, asks for leave which is reluctantly granted. As he departs, Fosca asks him to write to her. When she finds out that Clara is already married, she becomes even more of a recluse shunning all contact with anyone except the doctor, who believes that her condition will only improve if, and when, Giorgio returns. When he does, Fosca dictates a letter that turns out to be a love letter from her to him.

Colonel Ricci tells Giorgio about Fosca's marriage to a worthless count, whose profligate ways and harsh treatment made her ill and left her penniless. They visit an overgrown garden and are caught in a rainstorm which affects Fosca so much that she faints and has to be carried back to camp by Giorgio. He too falls ill and is granted sick leave to recuperate in Milan. Fosca follows him to the train which will take him away from her. He begs her to give him up and return to the camp where she can receive medical attention.

Clara, meanwhile, has made a decision; she will stay with her husband and bring up her family - the affair with Giorgio is over.

Back at the camp, a transfer notice organised by the doctor arrives for Giorgio. This devastates Fosca who once again repairs to her room in much distress. The colonel discovers the love-letter, written by Giorgio although dictated by Fosca, and challenges him to a duel. That night Giorgio visits Fosca's room and acknowledges his love for her. The following morning, both he and the colonel are injured in the duel.. Months later a letter from the doctor informs Giorgio of Fosca's death just three days after the duel - which she knew nothing about. Having lost both the women who loved him, he is alone.

Cast:
Clara: Scarlett Strallen
Giorgio: David Thaxton
Colonel Ricci: David Birrel
Lt. Torasso: Simon Bailey
Dr. Tambouri: Allun Corduner
Sgt. Lombardi: Hadyn Oakley
Lt. Barri: Ross Dawes
Major Rizzoli: Tim Morgan
Pvt. Augenti: Iwan Lewis
Signora Fosca: Elena Roger

Creative Team:
Music and Lyrics: Stephen Sondheim
Book: James Lapine
Director: Jamie Lloyd
Designer: Christopher Oram
Lighting: Neil Austin
Choreography: Scott Ambler

Passion is not Sondheim’s most immediately accessible work, there are some (initially) unsympathetic characters, and there’s not a lot  from the score that you can hum during the walk back to the station afterwards. Its all too easy to get it all wrong, particularly when its on a relatively small scale. But in this production, everything is very well judged and done with just the right amount of reserve, so that later in the show when stops need to be pulled out a bit, there’s room to spare for the full histrionics to come to the fore (things do get a bit – well – operatic towards the end). Indeed, the character who banged his chair down just that bit too emphatically in one of the opening scenes probably learned his lesson as the entire back came off and there followed a few sticky moments during which he struggled to regain his hold on both his composure and his furniture. As the chair had to remain on stage for several minutes afterwards, the audience – or possibly just me - then had a great deal of pleasure watching various people sit on said chair and wondering if they were going to fall off it. Alas no – a quick slop of wood glue and the application of a rubber hammer to the joints backstage and all seemed to be well.

Scarlett Strallen looked ravishing (both in and out of her crinolines), like a cross between Anna Leonowens and a Botticelli angel, but it was difficult to imagine her falling for David Thaxton’s rather anaemic Giorgio. Somehow, he seemed just that bit too dull and ordinary to inspire Clara’s passion. Elena Roger, however, proceeded to wipe not just the floor but the walls and the ceiling as well with both of them as the embittered and ugly Fosca. Although standing at least a head shorter than anyone else in the cast, she wrestled with the inherent absurdity of her role like a prize-fighter and quickly subdued any misgivings that the audience might have had about how this ugly duckling could possibly tempt her prize away from Strallen’s gorgeous swan. In the bar beforehand, I’d said to a fellow audience member who had never seen the show before that, if she wasn’t in tears by the end, it meant that she had no soul; fortunately for me, there were several points when my own eyes began to prickle as the story reached a climax – although personally I could have done without the thunderstorm at this point.. Having had my English Literature teacher drum into my head constantly that “thunderstorms are a device which indicate a breakdown in society or relationships” (Shakespeare and Thomas Hardy are full of them), and having endured many operas with Him Indoors in which dramatic moments are underscored by someone backstage rattling a metal sheet like buggery while rapidly flicking switches on the lighting desk, (Rossini never wrote anything that didn’t contain at least one Force 8 gale), I’m now on constant “Thunderstorm alert” at the theatre, rather like a taller and prettier version of Michael Fish, and I find them hackneyed and rather OTT.

This was a preview performance and I hope that the professional critics will give this revival all the plaudits and superlatives it well deserves.

Full marks to the set designer for clever use of the restricted space – a wall pierced with three arches and covered in crumbling frescoes of scenes from Ovid’s Metamorphoses; I spotted Leda and the Swan, Daphne and Apollo and (possibly) Diana and Acteon, subtly and cleverly highlighting not only the gradual crumbling away of the three central characters’ happiness, but also the idea that love given or received is capable of transforming even the ugliest duckling into something beautiful. Clever also was the incorporation of the Donmar’s upper balcony into the set design. Not so clever were the two idiots sitting next to me who sat cackling like a pair of ugly and demented ducklings through all the dramatic bits near the end and ruining things for those sitting around them. I shot one of them with a pointed comment in the hope that they might transform into adults who know how to conduct themselves at the theatre. But I don’t hold out much hope. Some ugly ducklings merely become big, ugly, noisy ducks.

(24th September - pro reviews are just in - and I wrote my review before the one mentioning ugly ducklings was published online or in the paper)

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/tvshowbiz/reviews/article-1314694/PASSION-review-Stephen-Sondheims-steamy-tale-desire-rejection.html?ito=feeds-newsxml (four star rating)

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/culture/8017873/Passion-Donmar-Warehouse-review.html (four star rating)

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/culture/8017873/Passion-Donmar-Warehouse-review.html (four star rating)

The Times gives it 5 stars but, because of their naff "subscription only" policy, I'm unable to provide you with a link to this.

Into The Woods - Open Air Theatre@Regents Park, Thursday 2nd September 2010 (Matinee)

Synopsis:

When a Baker and his wife learn they've been cursed with childlessness by the Witch next door, they embark on a quest for the special objects required to break the spell - a cow as white as milk, a cape as red as blood, hair as yellow as corn and a slipper as pure as gold-  variously swindling, lying to and stealing from Cinderella (attending the Royal Ball wearing the slipper) Little Red Riding Hood (wearing a cape as red as blood), Rapunzel (who has hair as yellow as corn) and Jack (who has exchanged his white cow for a sack of magic beans). By the end of act 1, the spell has been lifted and everyone seems happy - the baker's wife is expecting a child, Cinderella has married her Prince, Little Red Riding Hood and Granny have been rescued from the wolf and Jack has killed the giant and solved his mother's financial problems with the aid of a stolen hen which lays golden eggs.  Even the witch is now young and beautiful, having been cursed with age and ugliness in return for losing the magic beans from her garden and locking Rapunzel up in a doorless tower -  but the consequences of everyone's actions return to haunt them later, with disastrous results. 

The baker doesn't cope well with fatherhood, Cinderella discovers that her Prince is a serial womaniser, Rapunzel loses her sanity after being locked up for so long, the Witch has lost her magical powers, Red Riding Hood has lost her childish innocence and trust of strangers and the Giant's wife comes to take her revenge on Jack.  The narrator of the story becomes embroiled in the plot itself as it shakes free from convention and starts to spiral wildly out of his control. Lives are lost before the survivors realize that they have to act together in order to overcome the problems they created by wishing.  In fact, it becomes obvious that "Happy Ever After" isn't where the story ends, but only where the problems really start.   

Cast:

Narrator: Ethan Beer/Eddie Manning/Joshua Swinney

Cinderella: Helen Dallimore
Jack: Ben Stott
Baker: Mark Hadfield
Baker’s wife: Jenna Russell
Stepmother: Gaye Brown
Stepsisters: Amy Richardson and Amy Griffiths
Jack’s mother: Marilyn Cutts
Little Red Riding Hood: Beverley Rudd
Witch: Hannah Waddington
Mysterious Man: Billy Boyle
Wolf/Cinderella’s Prince: Michael Xavier
Rapunzel: Alice Fearn
Rapunzel’s Prince: Simon Thomas
Voice of the Giantess: Judi Dench
Creative Team:
Book: Stephen Sondheim
Director: Timothy Sheader
Movement: Liam Steel
Designer: Soutra Gilmour
Puppet Designer: Rachael Canning

You can hide in the woods, certainly. But you can’t hide in Into the Woods – this is very much an ensemble piece and shortcomings can be brutally exposed. Just like the ingredients bubbling away in a cauldron, occasionally something appears which brings delight, sometimes its wiser not to look too closely. Some of the performances here are very bad, some others are merely badly served by the production. And overall, I would say that the darker aspects of the show are those which lose out – perhaps literally because this isn’t a show best seen by bright daylight. The bosky darkness of the Open Air Theatre by night may well bring added depth – but hey, we could only get tickets for a matinee.

The set is fantastic – a maze of walkways, stairs and ladders, punctuated by trees. Its used inventively to suggest the disorientation of being alone in the woods, yet by its very nature this makes it very hard to zoom in on individuals or small groups when there are other things happening elsewhere. And far too much takes place in the space underneath the structure, where only those in the really expensive seats at the front can see clearly. But when its good, its really really good – a group of characters standing on a spiral staircase and opening green umbrellas becomes a beanstalk both credible and incredible, a saddle on the seat of a swing makes a horse (just add imagination) and a huge birds nest perched on top does double duty as Rapunzel’s tower and the baker’s hideout for the finale. And elsewhere there are wonderful visual jokes to enjoy – never before have I seen the Three Little Pigs appear in Into the Woods, but their presence carrying straw, sticks and a hod full of bricks is funny and welcome and feels entirely natural, as does that of birds made of branches, a puppet cow a la War Horse and a chicken (one that lays golden eggs) made out of a push-along lawnmower. It’s a shame that the costumes didn’t match up – there was far too much of the “Swampy” eco-warrior look for my liking. Where Cinderella’s sisters should don silks and satins to go to the ball, here they just go in the tweed knickerbockers outfits they’ve worn all along. Rapunzel’s Prince was wearing a boring suit that looked like it had been donated by one of his peasants. Again, on the flip side, some costumes were wonderful – the Witch was decked out in shiny “mould green”, the skirt of which had been pleated at the back to fall into cobweb shapes.

One thing that was disappointing throughout was the lack of singing talent; everyone seemed to be a singing actor, rather than an acting singer – apart from Cinderella, who could neither sing nor act. She wowed everyone with her creation of the role of Glinda in the original production of Wicked, but there was nothing of her sparkle on show this afternoon The Mysterious Man’s “phoned-in” performance was mirrored by Beverley Rudd’s practically faultless Little Red Riding Hood, who lit up and practically walked away with every scene she was in. Congratulations to the casting director for picking up on the clues in the next about LRRH’s physical appearance and engaging Rudd for the part. Those in the “chorus” parts (people like the Wolf and Steward, who otherwise have very little to do) were kept busy and useful on stage and there was excellent group choreography, although generally the “chorus” were on the opposite side of the set from the principals and it was nearly impossible to pay attention to both at the same time.

What shocked me to my theatre-going core was the dreadful “performance” by Judi Dench, who voiced the Giant’s wife (fantastic enormous “puppet” – just hands, eyes and mouth made of bits of “junk” – which “peered over the trees”). I know that the role consists of less than 20 lines, but really Judi, I do think you could have put a lot more than your very bland reading of them. Even if you are a “Giantess” of the Stage. Tsk, its enough to put you completely off your Capri-Sun.

Danton's Death - National Theatre, Wednesday 11th August 2010

Synopsis:

Three revolutionary groups are presented at the start of the play - Danton's supporters, Robespierre's supporters, and those who do not agree with how the Revolution has evolved. Danton and Robespierre have different views on how to pursue the revolution - Danton's supporters back the end of Robespierre's repressive measures, which have already caused great suffering among the people, and they dod not find in the Revolution the answer to the material and moral questions facing mankind. One citizen deplores the fact that his daughter has been forced into prostitution to support her family. Danton accepts his friends' proposal to meet Robespierre but this meeting proves to be fruitless and Robespierre resolves that Danton must be killed, though he still doubts that this decision is just.

Danton's friends press him to fight or flee Robespierre's supporters, but Danton does not see any need to do so and does not believe that the French National Convention will dare to act against him. Danton confides the guilt he feels for the September Massacres in his wife Julie. Danton is imprisoned and led before the National Assembly, which is divided - it feels it has no choice but to acquit him. However, Robespierre and Saint-Just reverse its opinion.

The prisoners discuss the existence of God and life, and an attempt to prove that God does not exist fails. Danton's supporters are transferred to the Conciergerie. During this time the revolutionary tribunal arranges for its jury to be made up of honest and faithful men. Danton appears confidently before the tribunal, impressing the public with his willingness for justice to be done. Seeing the hearers' sympathy for Danton, the court is adjourned. The tribunal's members invent a plot to change the public's mind. At the tribunal's second sitting, the people stop supporting Danton, due to his lifestyle. Danton's liberal programme is revealed as unacceptable to the masses.

Danton and his supporters are condemned to death. Danton and his friend Camille Desmoulins exchange thoughts on life and death. Danton's wife Julie, to whom he has pledged to be loyal beyond death, posions herself at their home. The people show themselves to be curious and ironic on Danton's way to the scaffold. When Lucile Desmoulins sees her husband Camille mount the scaffold, she goes mad and resolves to die too, crying "Long live the king!" and thus guaranteeing her own death sentence.

Cast:
Danton: Toby Stevens
Legendre: Ashley Zhangazha
Desmoulins: Barnaby Kay
Lacroix (sweetie!): Gwilym Lee
Julie: Kirsty Bushell
Lucille: Rebecca O'Mara
Marion: Eleanor Matsuura
Robespierre: Eliot Levey

Creative Team:
Adapted by Howard Brenton from Georg Buchner
Director: Michael Grandage
Designer: Christopher Oram
Lighting: Paule Constable.

Yes, yes, this is three weeks or so late, I know.  Its been hell around Castle TheatreReviews of late, and all my spare time recently has been taken up playing Farmville on Facebook and writing outraged Emails to my local branch of Sainbury's about their new Self Service tills.  Such is life. 

Even if I hadn't had to go to the dentists and have two fillings on the morning of this show, I don't think I would have enjoyed this very much; in fact I can best describe it as "fucking dreary".  To paraphrase Victoria Wood's sketch about Othello:  "I don't think its got a plot; its just various people talking - and sometimes they do things in brackets".  Fortunately, there was no interval so the agony was over within an hour and a half.  The set was just as dreary as the play itself , evoking the interior of the Donmar Warehouse and circled with enormous shutters that required constant opening and closing by a couple of "Citizens" who had nothing else to do but walk round and open them, wait for a couple of minutes while a couple of lines got spouted by various people standing on tables declaiming to the downtrodden masses metaphorically waving their pitchforks and making outraged "rhubarbe rhubarbe" noises in French accents, and then go round and close them all again.  One of the problems of this type of play, much like January's The White Guard, is that you have to have a very good grounding in all the historical comings and goings to fully understand what is going on and why, and who everybody is, and why everyone is getting in such a flap about things.  If you don't, then you spend much of the time trying to sort out the good guys from the bad and trying to decide who's side you are on and why.  Once you start to realise that you've set yourself an impossible task, you eventually start to tune out and stop caring, particularly when the lead character is played as an arrogant c*nt.  And so it was here - I know some odds and ends about the French Revolution, but my interest rather peters out once Marie Antoinette's head has fallen in the bucket; my understanding about the political upheaval in the years which followed this event is - to put it bluntly - nil points.  Until the bloke playing Robespierre was addressed as "Citizen Robespierre", I thought he was Talleyrand, ffs. 

The only thing worthwhile in this production, which seemed to go on all night even though it was very short (there's only so much declaiming and rhubarbe that you can take in one go) was the final couple of minutes in which we were mercifully rid of Dreary Monsieur Danton and his equally Dreary Amis with the aid of Madame Guillotine's hairdressing device ("Just a little bit more off the top, I think") - even though the machine itself was woefully small, it was so spectacularly cleverly done that real heads appeared to be falling into the basket It even seems to have shut Les Madames Defarge up for five minutes or so (which is always a Very Good Thing).   In fact, Danton's Death was the most interesting bit of his entire life. 

 
What the critics thought:
 
http://www.guardian.co.uk/stage/2010/jul/23/dantons-death-theatre-review-billington
 
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/culture/theatre/theatre-reviews/7906168/Dantons-Death-National-Theatre-review.html
 
http://oughttobeclowns.blogspot.com/2010/07/review-dantons-death-national-theatre.html
 
http://www.independent.co.uk/arts-entertainment/theatre-dance/reviews/dantonrsquos-death-national-theatre-olivier-london-2035299.html
 
 
 

Le Corsaire [The Pirate] - Bolshoi Ballet @ The Royal Opera House, Wednesday 4th August 2010

Synopsis (pay attention, this is long and complicated!):

A crowd of Turks, Greeks and Armenians throng a square where slaves girls are for sale. A band of pirates appears, led by Conrad. Medora, the ward of Lankendem, throws a bouquet to Conrad, who realises she loves him. The Pasha arrives to buy slaves but none please him. He sees Medora and wants her but Lankendem says that she is not for sale. But the Pasha is determined and offers a price that Lankendem is unable to resist. The Pasha orders Medora be bought to his harem; she is distraught. Conrad swears he will save her. The pirates “kidnap” all the slave girls including Medora, with Lankendem in hot pursuit.

The pirates arrive at their hideout. Medora pleads for the release of the other slave girls and Conrad agrees, but Birbanto (another pirate) protests and tries to raise a mutiny. Meanwhile, Lankendem is caught by the pirates, and he suggests a plot to retrieve Medora. Birbanto sprays a flower with poison and tells Lankendem to give it to Conrad who, overcome with the poison, collapses. Medora is frightened by this and manages to stab Birbanto in the arm. She then faints and is carried away by Birbanto’s friends, followed again by Lankendem Birbanto is about to kill Conrad when he wakes. Hearing that Medora has been abducted for real he and his loyal pirates give chase.

Back at the harem, the Pasha’s harem girls are amusing themselves. Zulma, the Sultana, demands respect but Gulnara (the chief Odalisque) and her friends mock her. Lankendem arrives to deliver Medora to the Pasha. She begs for her freedom, complaining that Lankendem has treated her cruelly. He is banished by the Pasha. Pilgrims arrive, asking for lodgings for the night. Medora discovers that they are really Conrad and his friends in disguise. There is an entertainment, after which the pirates throw off their disguises. Conrad and Medora are reunited. Gulnare pleads for help to escape the harem. Birbanto and his friends arrive at the harem and try to capture Gulnare. Medora recognises Birbanto and tells Conrad of their treachery, identifying him by the wound on his arm. He and Conrad fight and Birbanto runs off. The Pasha’s guard arrive; Conrad’s band is routed and he is sentenced to death.

During the preparations for the Pasha’s wedding to Medora, Conrad is prepared for his execution. She begs the Pasha to spare him, and he agrees on the condition that she marries him. Medora tells Conrad of the Pasha’s conditions and the two lovers decide to take their own lives. However, they are overheard by Gulnare who suggests a plan.

The wedding procession arrives, with the bride veiled and the ceremony takes place. Medora dances for the Pasha and is given an ornamental dagger by him. He begs for her love, also giving her a handkerchief. Threatening the Pasha with the dagger and tying him to a chair with the handkerchief, Medora and Conrad escape the harem. Gulnare runs in and unties the Pasha. It is announced by a guard that the pirate ship, with Conrad and Medora aboard, has left the harbour. The Pasha is outraged at the escape of Medora, believing her to be his wife. Gulnare produces the ring used at the ceremony; it was not Medora who was veiled, but her!

A storm overtakes the pirate ship, on which Birbanto has hidden. He tries to stir up a mutiny and is thrown overboard by Conrad. The ship hits a rock and sinks, but Conrad and Medora climb onto the rock and are saved.

Cast:
Medora: Ekaterina Krysanova
Conrad: Ruslan Skvortsov
Gulnare: Marianna Ryzhkina
Birbanto: Vitaly Biktimorov
The Pasha: Alexei Loparevich
Zulna, the Sultana: Irina Zibrovna

Creative Team:
Music: Adolphe Adam (with additions by Delibes, Pugni, von Oldenburg, Drigo, Zabel and Gerber – and probably Drooper, Snorky, Fleegle and Bingo, for all I know)
Choreography: Alexei Ratmansky and Yuri Burlaka (after Petipa)
Design: Boris Kaminsky
Costumes: Yelena Zaytseva

Well, I have to say that I spent a great deal of time being confused (and with a running time of over three hours, there was plenty of time for me to do it in) being confused and at times downright bloody mystified as to what exactly was going on and who the feck certain people were during this performance. The synopsis given above is a cut-down version from the one given in the programme, which was so confusing as to bring on brain stem death in anyone trying to make sense of it. I wasn’t helped by several things; the principals used every opportunity to change their costumes, often appearing in two or three different ones in the course of a single act; various characters mentioned in the cast list didn’t appear in the synopsis (who the hell was Mufti when he was at home?); several times an unidentified person in an important-looking costume would rush onto the stage, do a big solo and then rush off again, never to be seen or heard of again; and this version bore only a passing resemblance to other productions of Corsair that I’ve seen. I was therefore reduced to soliciting help with what was going on from various other audience members during the intervals along the lines of “Who was the woman wearing the green dress?” and “Was the woman on the balcony wearing the white dress the same woman who did a dance in the red spangly one?” and “Do YOU understand what’s going on?” Fortunately a lady in the row in front took pity on me and said “One should never worry about the plot of Corsair – one should just enjoy the dancing” (they speak like that at Covent Garden). So I took her advice and just sat back and let it wash over me. Unfortunately, there was so much washing over me that I thought I was going to drown at several points in the evening. By heck, this was a long night. I can do no better than to paraphrase one of the reviews below and say “It was so lovely that I hoped it would go on for ever – and then some time later began to fear that it might”.

Quite why the Bolshoi perform this version is beyond me – it was all so glitzy and overstuffed that I can only compare it to eating an entire box of liqueur chocolates in one go; one is nice as a treat, and having a second one makes you feel wickedly self-indulgent. After the fourth you’re starting to regret the entire thing, and when you realise that there’s another layer underneath, you begin to wonder about the availability of plastic buckets in the immediate vicinity. It was all so piled on that I began to lose the ability to be discriminating about what was good and what was merely indifferent, and there seemed to be plenty of indifferent being presented on the stage, with lots of very strained “ballet acting” by any poor bugger not actually involved in the dancing -  You want to buy a rug? Very nice rug, Effendi, cheap cheap. You no want to buy good rug? May the fleas of a thousand camels infect your armpits, Infidel!  The sets didn’t help – in the main they seemed designed for a much wider stage, and seriously cramped a lot of the action, particularly the set for the Pasha’s palace, which suffered from looking like a bizarre hybrid of Old Peking (Its behiiiiiind you!) and Carry On Follow That Camel with leftover bits of Chu Chin Chow thrown in just in case there was any unused space (which there invariably wasn’t). This on occasion meant that there was an odd column whack bang in the middle of where people needed to dance on the left, which wasn’t then mirrored by another one on the right, forcing those on the left to dance round the column and those on the right to wonder where their column was. In the jardin anime section, there were so many tutu’d and turbaned bodies trying to pick their way through the forests of vaguely horticultural scenery while maintaining a fixed rictus smile and worrying about whether Zvetlana on the opposite side could manage her watering can what with her dodgy elbow and all that that I seriously began to long for Alan Titchmarsh and Charlie Dimmock to stroll on, spray the entire scene with RoundUp and put York stone paving down. Corsair can be done with a (relatively) coherent plot without truckloads of unnecessary stuff – but this wasn’t it. The final hair on this particularly overladen camel’s back was an entire animatronic pirate ship going down with all hands behind a front-projected curtain of crashing waves at the very end. Interesting to see – but it didn’t add anything to the plot, was practically unnecessary and just slowed the climax down to a complete crawl.

Strangest of all was the complete excision of the role of the Slave (a famous Nureyv role) and the resultant section of Act 3 in which it appears, leading to more head scratching. Perhaps it was the fleas from that camel.

To paraphrase a well-known saying: over-long, over-done and over ‘ere.

What the critics thought:

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/culture/theatre/dance/7927105/Le-Corsaire-Bolshoi-ballet-at-the-Royal-Opera-House-review.html

http://www.express.co.uk/posts/view/190968/Le-Corsaire-Bolshoi-Ballet-Royal-Opera-HouseLe-Corsaire-Bolshoi-Ballet-Royal-Opera-HouseLe-Corsaire-Bolshoi-Ballet-Royal-Opera-HouseLe-Corsaire-Bolshoi-Ballet-Royal-Opera-House

http://www.guardian.co.uk/stage/2010/aug/03/le-corsaire-bolshoi-review

American Ballet Theatre's version with the deleted role of the slave (played by a guy with gorgeous hair):

The Tempest - The Old Vic, Monday 2nd August 2010

Synopsis:

The magician Prospero, rightful Duke of Milan, and his daughter, Miranda, have been stranded for twelve years on an island after Prospero's jealous brother Antonio—helped by Alonso, the King of Naples—deposed him and set him adrift with the then three-year-old Miranda. Gonzalo, the King's counsellor, had secretly supplied their boat with plenty of food, water, clothes and the most-prized books from Prospero's library. Possessing magic powers due to his great learning, Prospero is reluctantly served by a spirit, Ariel, whom Prospero had rescued from a tree in which he had been trapped by the witch Sycorax.  Her son, Caliban,  taught Prospero how to survive on the island, while Prospero . Following Caliban's attempted rape of Miranda, he had been compelled by Prospero to serve as the sorcerer's slave. In slavery, Caliban has come to view Prospero as a usurper and has grown to resent him and his daughter.

The play opens as Prospero, having divined that his brother, Antonio, is on a ship passing close by the island, has raised a tempest which causes the ship to run aground. Also on the ship are King Alonso of Naples, Alonso's brother Sebastian and son Ferdinand, and advisor, Gonzalo. All these passengers are returning from the wedding of Alonso's daughter Claribel with the King of Tunis. Prospero, by his spells, contrives to separate the survivors of the wreck into several groups. Alonso and Ferdinand are separated and believe one another to be dead.

Caliban falls in with Stephano and Trinculo, two drunkards, whom he believes to have come from the moon. They attempt to raise a rebellion against Prospero, which ultimately fails.  Prospero works to establish a romantic relationship between Ferdinand and Miranda; the two fall immediately in love, but Prospero worries that "too light winning [may] make the prize light", and compels Ferdinand to become his servant, pretending that he regards him as a spy. In the third subplot, Antonio and Sebastian conspire to kill Alonso and Gonzalo so that Sebastian can become King. They are thwarted by Ariel, at Prospero's command. Ariel appears to Alonso, Antonio and Sebastian as a harpy, reprimanding them for their betrayal of Prospero. Prospero manipulates the course of his enemies' path through the island, drawing them closer and closer to him.

In the conclusion, all the main characters are brought together before Prospero, who forgives Alonso. He also forgives Antonio and Sebastian, but warns them against further betrayal. Ariel is charged to prepare the proper sailing weather to guide Alonso and his entourage (including Prospero and Miranda) back to the Royal fleet and then to Naples, where Ferdinand and Miranda will be married. After discharging this task, Ariel will finally be free. Prospero pardons Caliban, who is sent to prepare Prospero's cell, to which Alonso and his party are invited for a final night before their departure  Prospero has resolved to break and bury his wizard's staff and  book of magic. In his epilogue, shorn of his magic powers, he invites the audience to set him free from the island with their applause.

Cast:

Prospero: Stephen Dillane

Ariel: Christian Camargo

Caliban: Ron Cephas Jones

Boatswain: Ross Waiton

Alonso: Jonathan Lincoln Fried

Gonzalo: Alvin Epstein

Sebastian: Richard Hansell

Antonio: Michael Thomas

Miranda: Juliet Rylance

Ferdinand: Edward Bennett

Trinculo: Anthony O’Donnell

Stephano: Thomas Sadowski

 

I wasn’t quite so sleepy this time round as I was when I saw this company’s production of As You Like It – but honestly, the pace they took it at was enough to cure anyone’s insomnia. Obviously the Director had given them all the instruction “The best way to do Shakespeare so that everyone understands what is going on Is. To. Speak. Very. Very. Slowly. And. Pause. Between. Each. Word”. During the opening scene, everybody thankfully ignored this, but remembered in time for the next one, so that by the (non-existent) interval, I was glancing at my watch every couple of minutes and making strenuous “Get ON with it!” movements with both my hands. There were places where the pace mercifully picked up but the average pace could kindly be described as “stately” or rudely as “bloody slow”. Still, at least most of the cast were audible this time round. Mr. Dillane, playing Prospero, had been roundly criticised by the press for his lack of projection in As You Like It, and for the most part managed to rev this up several notches, until about half an hour before the end when decided to inject a bit of variety into his rather bland performance by playing about with the sound levels:

“We. Are. Such. Things. As. Dreams. Are. Made On. And.

Our. Little. Life. Is. Rounded. Off. With. A. Sleep”

which made the last act appear like the sound technician was buggering about with his knob (steady!) in his little booth and twisting it left and then right and then back again to keep himself from dropping off through hypnotic speech pattern overload. No such problems from Juliet Rylance who gave her performance by megaphone again – any louder and she could have saved the director of a production some 15 miles away the expense of having a Miranda on stage, merely having to open the theatre doors so that Miss Rylance’s performance could be heard from afar. Alvin Epstein, as Gonzalo, had either switched his throat mike off completely, was making sure that the bats in the rafters got their fill of Shakespeare or was just inaudible.

Rather than present Prospero’s Island with any attempt at realism, the set designer had tried to be tricksy and cute by having no set other than a large, round circle of sand in the middle of the stage. There was a large, shallow trough across the width of the stage at the back, filled with water and enough wooden chairs to start a small furniture store (“Hello? DFS Prospero’s Island branch. How may we help you?”) on which any member of the cast not currently performing had to go and sit and await their next entrance. Pity the poor bugger playing the Boatswain who gets about 10 lines in the first act and then nothing until 2 pages from the very end who had to sit there all night in full view, rather than being able to return to the dressing room, take his sea boots off, catch up with Coronation Street for two hours and have a good scratch. I hope that everyone had been issued with waterproof footwear, or there will be a run on treatment for Foot Rot at Boots in Waterloo Road by the end of the run. The casting director had also seemingly balked at using the full company – when the Goddesses conjured up the Nymphs and Shepherds for the wedding masque, nary a Nymph nor indeed Shepherd responded to their call and so they had to do the best they could with assorted castaways, which made for a rather rum pastoral sequence, especially as a lot of it was accompanied by back-projected old home movies of what I think we were meant to understand to be Miranda's early childhood.

On the subject of rum, this being a tropical island (that's a joke btw), the other inhabitants were extremely odd indeed. Ariel was played as a very fey, palefaced cross between Edward Scissorhands and one of the sparkly vampires from the Twilight series – less Ariel than Emo  (still, I suppose we were lucky it wasn't Elmo). Quite why, when commanded to disguise himself as a water sprite, he decided to don a long green sleeveless cocktail dress is beyond me, and I found the characterisation of Caliban somewhat tasteless; yes, OK, have Caliban played by a black actor in order to emphasise his difference from the rest of the characters (and make a political point about slavery), but is it not somewhat crass to then have him “white up” in Caucasian-toned body paint? Other characters seemed to have grabbed their costumes from the nearest hamper marked “Dressing Up” and were representative of no particular era or location. Whether this was making about point about the “timeless” quality of Shakepeare’s play I don’t know but I do know that having no interval makes you very aware of every passing minute when you need to go to the toilet.

What the critics thought:
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/culture/theatre/theatre-reviews/7851088/The-Tempest-As-You-Like-It-at-the-Old-Vic-review.html

http://www.guardian.co.uk/stage/2010/jun/24/review-tempest-as-you-like-it

http://www.curtainup.com/tempestbam10.html

http://nick730.livejournal.com/459755.html

http://www.independent.co.uk/arts-entertainment/theatre-dance/reviews/as-you-like-it--the-tempest-old-vic-london-brwelcome-to-thebes-nt-olivier-london-brsucker-punch-royal-court-downstairs-london-2011307.html

The Comedy of Errors - Open Air Theatre Regent's Park, Monday 12th July 2010

Synopsis:

Egeon, a merchant of Syracuse, is condemned to death in Ephesus for violating the ban against travel between the two rival cities. As he is led to his execution, he tells the Ephesian Duke, Solinus, that he has come to Syracuse in search of his wife and one of his twin sons, who were separated from him 25 years ago in a shipwreck. The other twin, who grew up with Egeon, is also traveling the world in search of the missing half of their family. (The twins, we learn, are identical, and each has an identical twin slave named Dromio.) The Duke is so moved by this story that he grants Egeon a day to raise the thousand-mark ransom that would be necessary to save his life.

Meanwhile, unknown to Egeon, his son Antipholus of Syracuse (and Antipholus' slave Dromio) is also visiting Ephesus--where Antipholus' missing twin, known as Antipholus of Ephesus, is a prosperous citizen of the city. Adriana, Antipholus of Ephesus' wife, mistakes Antipholus of Syracuse for her husband and drags him home for dinner, leaving Dromio of Syracuse to stand guard at the door and admit no one. Shortly thereafter, Antipholus of Ephesus (with his slave Dromio of Ephesus) returns home and is refused entry to his own house. Meanwhile, Antipholus of Syracuse has fallen in love with Luciana, Adriana's sister, who is appalled at the behavior of the man she thinks is her brother-in-law.

The confusion increases when a gold chain ordered by the Ephesian Antipholus is given to Antipholus of Syracuse. Antipholus of Ephesus refuses to pay for the chain (unsurprisingly, since he never received it) and is arrested for debt. His wife, seeing his strange behavior, decides he has gone mad and orders him bound and held in a cellar room. Meanwhile, Antipholus of Syracuse and his slave decide to flee the city, which they believe to be enchanted, as soon as possible--only to be menaced by Adriana and the debt officer. They seek refuge in a nearby abbey.

Adriana now begs the Duke to intervene and remove her "husband" from the abbey into her custody. Her real husband, meanwhile, has broken loose and now comes to the Duke and levels charges against his wife. The situation is finally resolved by the Abbess, Emilia, who brings out the set of twins and reveals herself to be Egeon's long-lost wife. Antipholus of Ephesus reconciles with Adriana; Egeon is pardoned by the Duke and reunited with his spouse; Antipholus of Syracuse resumes his romantic pursuit of Luciana, and all ends happily with the two Dromios embracing

Cast:
Egeon - Christopher Ravensworth
Antipholus of Syracuse - Daniel Weyman
Antipholus of Ephesus - Daniel Llewellyn-Williams
Dromio of Syracuse - Joseph Kloska
Dromio of Ephesus - Josh Cohen
Adriana - Jo Herbert
Luciana - Sophie Roberts
Emilia - Veronica Roberts

Creative team:
Director - Philip Franks
Designer - Gideon Davy
Music - Matthew Scott
Lighting - Zerlina Hughes

Oh dear. These people really aren't gathering from the buttocks at all.  In fact, this lot only confirm my theory that, with certain exceptions, the Open Air Theatre Regent's Park is for people who wouldn't know decent Shakespeare if it sat on their face and wiggled (note to self: stop fantasizing about Fred Lancaster).  But then, Regent's Park Shakespeare never is that great - they do the occasional good musical but otherwise its basic, tourist-trap, chuck it on for the masses stuff. And this production is nothing more than that.  What's frustrating is that all the ingredients for a half-decent Comedy of Errors are there (more or less) but they've not been thought through or cooked properly. The basic premise, setting Ephesus somewhere on the Mediterranean coast of Africa in the late 1940s, isn't bad - in fact, with more care taken over the direction and more attention paid to the details, it would be quite a good one.  Mind you, it would help considerably if it were acted better.  Precious few, if any, of the cast have any Shakespeare experience under their belt - its a sad, sad Comedy of Errors when the only decent actors in the cast are playing Egeon and Emilia, both practically invisible parts.  When these people are on stage, it lights up.  When they're not, its like watching Carry On Casablanca - with about as much subtlety.  There's no nuance, no light and shade, no real feeling for the inherent ridiculousness of the situation - just shouting. 

This is a dreary play on the page - the comedy only comes alive with the direction, the interpretation of the roles and the sight gags.  In the main, these are all missing.  The ideas are there; you can see them in embryonic form, but they're "unfinished, sent before [their]time".  With a bit more care for the end product, this could really have been great. Its frustrating to see something never reach the potential you know, lurking somewhere under the flotsam, it has, particularly when occasionally there is a flash of something good.  Unfortunately, this only serves to highlight how bad the stuff around it is.  For instance, Egeon's long opening speech which sets up the story is, usually, a dreary ten minutes or so that you have to endure before you get to the start of the fun.  But here Christopher Ravenscroft invests his speech about the storm which separates the travellers with such intensity and feeling that you can almost hear the salty slap of uncaring waves as they drag his screaming wife and children out of his panicked reach.  Like a great beacon of hope, the speech shines the way for the whole production - but the director ignores it and the entire show heads for the rocks. It founders for a long time, with lots of screaming and rushing about on deck, before a wise and compassionate dolphin (in the form of Veronica Roberts' wonderfully rounded Emila) appears and tries to guide the production to safe harbour but its too late - the ship goes down with all hands. 

Things improve very slightly in the second act when the text takes second place to physical action, but its hard to care by this point about anything or anyone.  There's a lot of padding - unnecessary musical interludes (one "song", murdered by someone with no musical talent whatsoever and which  makes bats tumble out of the evening sky thankfully comes to an end after 4 lines, which is frankly 5 lines too many), people in gorilla suits, references to The Exorcist, Shaun of the Dead and so on. There's a woman in a wheelchair with a puppet pekingese but the comedy potential of this is completely thrown away.  There's a hideously buttock-clenching moment when one of the characters addresses the audience directly, asking if anyone is prepared to stump up surety money for Egeon, which is just asking for trouble.  The Courtesan is turned into a Nightclub singer  (yes, she can sing, but no, she can't act) who at one point strips off to stockings and suspenders that strain to contain her.  Neither of us crack more than the odd smile all evening - its very definitely a case of "Don't play it again, Sam". 

What the critics thought:

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/culture/theatre/theatre-reviews/7864236/The-Comedy-of-Errors-Regents-Park-Open-Air-Theatre-review.html

http://www.ft.com/cms/s/2/43d8072e-8525-11df-9c2f-00144feabdc0.html

http://www.thepublicreviews.com/the-comedy-of-errors-open-air-theatre-regents-park-london/

http://www.thisislondon.co.uk/theatre/review-23852428-the-comedy-of-errors-is-brief-but-not-to-the-point.do

Curtains! - Guildhall School of Music and Drama, Monday 12th July 2010

Synopsis:

Robbin' Hood of the Old West, a bad Western adaptation of the Robin Hood story is reaching its conclusion. The egregiously untalented leading lady, Jessica Cranshaw  can't sing, act, dance or remember when to say her lines. To the relief of everyone, she is murdered during her opening night curtain call. The entire company comes under suspicion, and Lt. Frank Cioffi of the Boston Police Department is called in to solve the homicide. Believing that the perpetrator is still in the building, he sequesters it.

The suspects include the hard-bitten producer, Carmen Bernstein; her husband, Sidney; the show's flamboyant director Christopher Belling; divorced songwriting team Aaron Fox and Georgia Hendricks; Stage Manager Johnny Harmon; choreographer/leading man Bobby Pepper, ingénue Niki Harris, and ambitious chorine Bambi Bernét.

The company use its spare time to attempt to fix the show's problems. Niki, Ms. Cranshaw's understudy, is passed up for the leading role in favour of Georgia, who is encouraged to take the role despite the protests of Aaron, who has fallen in love with her again. Cioffi, a theatre fan and amateur actor, becomes more involved with saving the show than solving the case. Cioffi finds himself falling for Niki, and she seems to return his affection, so he hopes she's not the murderer. Meanwhile, secrets are surfacing, the production numbers in Robbin' Hood are rewritten, rehearsed and rewritten again, and the body count is rising. Can Cioffi solve the case, save the show, and get the girl before the curtain rises without getting offed himself? This is a musical, after all!

Cast:
Jessica Cranshaw: Sophie Colquhoun
Randy Dexter: David Walmsley
Niki Harris: Eleanor Wyld
Bambi Bernet: Emma Fisher
Bobby Pepper: Nikesh Patel
Georgia Hendricks: Lily Fox
Aaron Fox: Henry Gilbert
Carmen Bernstein: Paloma Oakenfold
Christopher Belling: Patrick Osbourne
Lt. Cioffi: Fred Lancaster

Creative Team:
Director: Martin Connor
Choreographer: Bill Deamer
Musical Director: Steven Edis
Designer: Tom Rogers
Lighting Designer: Mark Jonathan

Fame costs - and right here's where you start paying......   Was that Mr. Shorofsky strolling past being curmudgeonly about Bruno's latest electronic interpretation of Beethoven?  Did I just see Doris Schwartz coming back from the local deli with pastrami on rye? Was that smell wafting along the corridor the tang of Debbie Allen's leotard after a hard morning's session in the dance studio?  No, dahling - nobody here would do anything quite so declasse. For this is not the New York High School for the Performing Arts but the privileged environs of the Guildhall, luvvie, and these old dears are not here because Irene Cara is dancing on the roof of the black cab which dropped them outside but because they're checking that their darling grandchild is spending their Trust Fund wisely in preparation for Life upon the Wicked Stage (preferably in Something At The National or maybe the RSC).  For many, of course, life is going to be unkind and they will end up waiting tables or going into accountancy.  For others, life will be really fucking unfair and they will end up in Holby City.  But until then, its a constant round of "five, six, seven, eight" or gathering from the buttocks while walking around dressed entirely in Ralph Lauren's Polo and sending the bills to Mummy and Daddy, who can't be here because this is a Monday matinee; Mummy is in the Chair at the Townswomen's Guild and Daddy has to soil his hands with work,  for chrissakes, but the Gramps are here so hurrah!

Reading the programme is just as entertaining as watching all the Trustafarians milling in the corridors lugging bongo drums, pushing racks of costumes or discussing what Shakespeare may have had for breakfast the day of King Lear's first performance.  There's a "News about Last Year's Graduates" page, which makes entertaining reading; a couple look like they might be onto something relatively big, others are doing sterling work in the provinces - but poor old David Kirkbride has really lucked out and their only credit to date is, indeed, the dreaded Holby City.  Given that The Bill has finished its long, long run now, all the rest of last year's lot are apparently already Resting, mugging up on compound interest, wiping down lunch tables or have put their head in the Aga.  There is a very strange smell coming from a man in the row in front.  He's wearing a skull and crossbones beanie, is pushing a Womble Trolley and obviously hasn't washed for a while.  He's either a tramp or gloriously eccentric, dahling.  Perhaps he is related to the Marquis of Bath. 

Despite some earlier reservations, I do actually quite enjoy the show, which is as about as daft and engaging as you can possibly get, performed with that fresh-faced optimism that only drama students can possibly get away with.  There are some very good performances, some average performances, some crap performances and a couple of performances which are destined to take the person giving them here - these people are certainly not gathering from the buttocks.  Runaway star of the entire afternoon is the utterly gorgeous Fred Lancaster, who gives a performance of immense charm and gives the part of Cioffi everything that you want from it.  He has enormous, brown Bambi eyes and I sit there in the dark fantasizing about gazing deep into them while doing unspeakable things to him. A Great Future awaits Mr. Lancaster - or at least it will do if I ever get my hands on him.   Lily James makes a very good stab at her part but doesn't quite manage to convince in the shift from ingenue to tart with a heart, and she's a little pushed at the top of her vocal range - the part is simply just that bit too high for her. Paloma Oakenfold also makes a good stab at the part of the middle aged producer but doesnt quite make it; the accent comes and goes and so does the characterisation.  Probably the show's most famous song - It's a Business - is again just that little bit beyond her as it needs an Ethel Merman-esque belt which she simply doesn't have.  But she has excellent timing and is a generous performer, although I suspect that serious drama is going to be more her area of expertise than comedy.  Patrick Osbourne is hysterically funny as Christopher Belling, the Director, playing the part for all it is worth and more and walking off with every scene, channelling Julian Marsh, the Director in 42nd Street and getting away with it.  There's a very fine line between parody and over-egging it, and Belling knows just which side of the line to mince along.  Henry Gilbert.as Aaron Fox, however, seems to get bored with the show about half-way through (unfortunately he allows this to show on his face) and starts to "phone in" his peformance as if he's just tired of the whole thing.  I still can't quite work out whether Nikesh Patel is giving a really good performance as a cardboard cutout leading man or is just not giving it any welly.  There are two people in tiny parts who are polar opposites as regards their performance - a tall, slightly chubby chap who is obviously not a stage animal and who is struggling a little with the choreography but who is enjoying everything immensely and who never stops beaming, sings his heart out and sounds destined for the chorus in an opera company somewhere, treasuring his memories of his moment in musical theatre, and a tiny girl who is half a beat behind everybody else in the choreography, has no stage presence, has dreadful hair doesn't know how or where to stand and is goldfishing some of the words.  She looks totally ill at ease and, to quote Victoria Wood yet again, probably originally signed up for ju-jitsu but turned the wrong way when she got out of the lift.

There is some excellent choreography in the chorus numbers although spacing is sometimes considerably off and, surprisingly, some very bland stuff for the principals. There are some missed opportunities for comedy in the direction, but on the whole it's very good, even though its a little loose at times.  The lighting is good and the technical needs of the show in terms of slick, seamless scene changes (and some quite difficult staging requirements) handled  better than many professional shows I've seen.  Costumes are excellent and look well made and designed - although the nit-picker in me notices a minor glitch - all the characters are locked into the theatre by Lieutenant Cioffi and have clothes delivered from their hotels.  Cioffi specifies blue and green clothes for Niki, the girl he's falling for as he's trying to match her eyes - but none of the character's clothes are blue or green; she ends up wearing a yellow jersy and a red flowered skirt for practically the entire show.  Black mark for the Wardrobe Department who obviously haven't read the script!  The orchestra, sawing away unseen in the pit, is on top form, although someone in the woodwind section feels it necessary to give a solo obbligato after the playout music has finished, which is terribly unprofessional.  However, the Gramps have had a good time, the smelly man in the front row is clapping fit to burst and I've had an unexpectedly good time as well. 

We head off to Carlucio's afterwards for a quick bite, where we sit next to a dreadful woman who is showing off her iPhone to her parents.  She bleats on and on about having "this app which knows where you are because of satellite or something and sends you poems mentioning the road you're in".  I neck my coffee ice cream and wonder if there's an app you can download that will tell you you're a pretentious twat.  I could make a fortune with that one.  Then its through the rush hour hordes to Regent's Park, for the second of today's theatrical offerings.  What a hectic life I lead! 

http://www.guardian.co.uk/stage/2010/jul/07/curtains-silk-street-theatre-review - an incredibly snotty review of this piece by that arch-queen Michael Billington.  Its not much use as a review as all it does is pour scorn on the actual piece rather than review the actual production.  Methinks Mr. Billington just wants to show how clever he is. 

NB: The last time I reviewed a student production I was heaped with abuse by some of the cast.  I will repeat here what I said then, just in case: if you can't take criticism, then you shouldn't be going into the profession.