25 January 2011

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.


04 January 2011

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.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

02 January 2011

And the Winner is........

(Drum roll please........)


Category: Best Play (non-shakespeare)
Nominations:
After the Dance
London Assurance
A Christmas Carol

AND THE WINNER IS....


AFTER THE DANCE


Category: Worst Play (non-Shakespeare)
Nominations;
Dracula 
Danton’s Death
Love the Sinner
AND THE WINNER IS.....

LOVE THE SINNER


Category: Best Shakespeare Play
Nominations:
Macbeth (June)
Measure for Measure (March)
Henry V (February)
AND THE WINNER IS....

HENRY V


Category: Worst Shakespeare Play
Nominations:
Hamlet
Comedy of Errors
As You Like It
AND THE WINNER IS...

HAMLET


Category: Best Musical
Nominations:
Passion
Curtains
Pirates of Penzance
AND THE WINNER IS....

THE PIRATES OF PENZANCE


Category: Worst Musical
Nominations:
Spamalot
Paradise Found
Shirley Jones in Concert
AND THE WINNER IS....

PARADISE FOUND 
(no real surprise there!)


Category: Best Ballet/Dance Production
Nominations:
Cinderella (Royal Ballet)
Cinderella (Adventures in Motion Pictures)
The Snow Queen
AND THE WINNER IS....

CINDERELLA (AMP)


Category: Worst Ballet/Dance Production
Nominations:
Le Corsaire
Royal Ballet Triple Bill
The Nutcracker (ENB January)

AND THE WINNER IS....

THE NUTCRACKER


Category: Best Individual Performance
Nominations:
Elena Roger – Passion
Fred Lancaster – Curtains
Simon Russell Beale – London Assurance

AND THE WINNER IS:

FRED LANCASTER

Highly commended:
David Fielder – Scrooge
Tom Greaves – Henry V
Nick Sampson – London Assurance

Category: Worst Individual Performance
Nominations:
Laura Blackmore – Dracula
Mandy Patinkin – Paradise Found
Shirley Jones – Shirley Jones in Concert
AND THE WINNER IS.....

ALL THREE!
(seriously folks, three of the worst performances I have ever had to sit through)


Category: Worst People to Sit Next To

Nominations:
The West End Whingers - Passion
Drunk and Obnoxious Couple - Cinderella
Practically everyone – Carmen

AND THE WINNER IS.....

DRUNK AND OBNOXIOUS COUPLE - CINDERELLA 

30 December 2010

RTR Awards 2010 - And the Nominations Are.....

Category: Best Play (non-Shakespeare)
Nominations:
After the Dance (June)
London Assurance (March)
A Christmas Carol (January)

Category: Worst Play (non-Shakespeare)
Nominations:
 Dracula (November)
 Danton’s Death (August)
Love the Sinner (May)


 Category: Best Shakespeare
Nominations:
Macbeth (June)
Henry V (February)


 Cateogry: Worst Shakespeare
Nominations:
Hamlet (October)


Category: Best Musical
Nominations:
Passion (September)
Curtains (July)
Pirates of Penzance (April)


Category: Worst Muscial
Nominations:
Spamalot (June)
Paradise Found (May
)Shirley Jones (March)


Category: Best Ballet/Dance Production:
Nominations:
Cinderella (December)
Cinderella (April)
The Snow Queen (January)


Category: Worst Ballet/Dance Production
Nominations:
Le Corsaire (August)
 Royal Ballet Triple Bill (April)
The Nutcracker (January)


Category: Best Individual Performance
Nominations:
Elena Roger – Passion (September)
Fred Lancaster – Curtains (July)
Simon Russell Beale – London Assurance (March


Category: Worst Individual Performance
Nominations:
Laura Blackmore – Dracula (November)
Mandy Patinkin – Paradise Found (May
Shirley Jones – Shirley Jones in Concert (March)


Category: Worst People to Sit Next To
Nominations:
The West End Whingers - Passion (September)
Drunk and Oboxious Couple - Cinderella (December)
Practically everyone – Carmen (May)


Category: RTR Reader's Awards:
Nobody bothered to nominate.  Thanks guys. 

Awards Envelopes will be opened early in the New Year.






22 December 2010

Romeo and Juliet - RSC @ The Roundhouse - Monday 20th December 2010

Synopsis:

A Chorus introduces two feuding families of Verona, the Capulets and the Montagues. On a hot summer's day, fighting by the young men of each faction is stopped by the Prince who threatens the law. Capulet plans a feast to introduce his daughter, Juliet, who is almost fourteen, to the Count Paris who seeks to marry her. By a mistake of the illiterate servant Peter, Montague's son Romeo, and his friends Benvolio and Mercutio hear of the party and resolve to go in carnival disguise. Romeo hopes he will see his adored Rosaline; instead he meets and falls instantly in love with Juliet.

The Montagues are recognised by Juliet's cousin Tybalt and are forced to leave the party just as Romeo and Juliet have each discovered the others identity. Romeo lingers near the Capulet's house and talks with Juliet when she appears on her balcony. With the help of Juliet's Nurse, the lovers arrange to meet next day at the cell of Friar Lawrence when Juliet goes for confession, and there they are married.

Tybalt picks a quarrel with Mercutio and his friends and Mercutio is accidentally killed as Romeo intervenes. In anger Romeo pursues Tybalt, kills him and is banished by the Prince for the deed. Juliet is anxious that Romeo is late meeting her and learns of the fighting from her Nurse. With Friar Lawrence's help it is arranged that Romeo will spend the night with Juliet before taking refuge at Mantua. To calm the family's sorrow at Tybalt's death the day for Juliet’s marriage to Paris is brought forward.

Capulet and his wife are angry that Juliet does not wish to be Paris's bride, not knowing of her secret contract with Romeo. Friar Lawrence helps Juliet by providing a sleeping draught, and when the wedding party arrives to greet Juliet the next day they believe she is dead. The Friar sends a colleague to warn Romeo to come to the Capulet's family monument to rescue his sleeping wife.

The message is fatally delayed and Romeo, hearing instead that Juliet is dead, buys poison in Mantua. He returns to Verona and goes to the tomb where he surprises and kills the mourning Paris. Romeo takes his poison and dies just as Juliet awakes from her drugged sleep. She learns what has happened from Friar Lawrence but she refuses to leave the tomb and stabs herself as the Friar returns. The deaths of their children lead the families to make peace, promising to erect a monument in their memory.
Cast:
Escalus, Prince of Verona – David Carr
Mercutio – Jonjo O’Neill
Paris – James Howard
Montague – David Rubin
Lady Montague – Simone Saunders
Romeo – Sam Troughton
Balthasar – Gruffud Glyn
Capulet – Richard Katz
Lady Capulet – Christine Entwhistle
Juliet – Mariah Gale
Tybalt – Joseph Arkley
Nurse – Noma Dumezweni
Friar Laurence – Forbes Masson
Creative Team:
Dierctor – Rupert Goold
Designer – Tom Scott
Lighting – Howard Harrison
Costumes – Rachel Dickson
Its very easy to write a review when you really enjoy a production, and its even easier when you loathe it (in fact, in these cases, the reviews more or less write themselves). What I find really difficult is writing a review when a production has been more or less OK. Its very difficult to express “meh” in words. In terms of both production ideas and performances, there werew some very good ones here, a couple of completely acceptable ones and a couple of really naff ones. It took me a long time to warm to both lead roles, and I think only Juliet really convinced me in the end that she was worth the effort, eventually winning me over. It takes a skilled actress to convey the impetuosity of a hormonal teenager if not in real love, then in love with being in love itself, and I think Mariah Gale managed to convey this very well in a kind of bewildered, hair-chewing and moody way. I felt completely ambivalent about Sam Troughton’s Romeo for most of the evening, and that’s never a good sign. What was a really bad sign is that I thought Forbes Masson’s Friar Laurence completely lacking in any kind of authority - religious or academic - and found myself increasingly irritated by his bumptious jollity, his rather laissez-faire approach to religion and his forever bounding about the stage like a slightly podgy ginger Labrador anxious to please everyone. What this production needed was a still core about which the city of Verona whirled in turmoil, and not finding it in Friar Laurence, I found it in the unlikely form of Noma Dumezweni’s Nurse, who managed to convey a strong sense of “been there, seen it, done it”, which was a pleasure to watch.

I also enjoyed the central conceit of the production, in that Romeo and Juliet started out in modern dress, standing out nicely against everyone else who wore more or less “period-style” if not strictly period costume, This made them appear like ghosts from the future. At the end, both wore more or less period costume, with everyone else in modern clothes – to quote Tennyson’s The Princess “The present as we speak becomes the past. The past repeats itself and so is future”. What I would like to have seen done here was a more gradual slide from one period to the other in the costumes rather than an abrupt change. Practically all I remember of the first opera I ever saw (Verdi’s Falstaff, if you’re interested – bad choice of first opera to see, and which probably explains my ambivalence about opera to this day) was the way that all the characters started in 1930s dress, and on each successive appearance, their costumes became more and more Jacobean. I remember thinking at the time what a clever idea that was.
I was disappointed that, because of the “in the round” staging, much of the dialogue was lost through a combination of bad projection and bad acoustics. I was also rather disappointed that the opening idea wasn’t developed any further – Romeo listened to the opening “In fair Verona where we lay our scene” speech via a recorded narration on headphones, almost as if he were a modern day tourist seeing the sights of the city. Another clever production idea was to have a rose window lighting effect projected onto the floor, the design of which was exactly the same as the metal grating cover in the middle – love may raise us up to heaven but pull us downwards into hell. This Verona was not drenched in blazing sunlight but composed of torchlit alleyways and shadowy courtyards. It was particularly nice to see the “Balcony scene” done completely from Romeo’s point of view – the acting area was in total darkness lit only by the light streaming from the window above. When Romeo climbs the balcony and he and Juliet finally get some major snog-action going, the entire wall surrounding the window lights up with the kind of sunburst you get surrounding Christ in Renaissance paintings. This was the only time that daylight shone on Verona, which I think was meant to echo the line in the closing speech about “The sun, for sadness, will not show His head”. In fact, the more I think about it, the more I realise how clever the lighting was. It’s a pity that I came away not feeling as impressed with some of the performances – I still maintain that Romeo and Juliet is an incredibly difficult play to pull off successfully, and I don’t think the RSC have quite managed it yet, at least as far as I’m concerned. But then we all know how difficult to please I am.

http://www.independent.co.uk/arts-entertainment/theatre-dance/reviews/romeo-and-juliet-roundhouse-london-2152000.html

http://www.theartsdesk.com/index.php?option=com_k2&view=item&id=2703:romeo-and-juliet-rsc/roundhouse&Itemid=25

http://www.express.co.uk/posts/view/215402/Review-Romeo-and-Juliet-Roundhouse-London

http://www.tottenhamjournal.co.uk/what-s-on/theatre/romeo_and_juliet_theatre_review_1_750823


Romeo (of the Montagues of Beaulieu) and Juliet (of the Catapults) in under 15 minutes, performed by sock puppets!



The best - and worst - of 2010

Here at RTR Towers, I'm busily writing my last review of the year (coming in a couple of days).   I want YOU, dear reader, to nominate the best and worst theatrical production you've seen this year in the comments box at the bottom of this post.  I'm making a list of my own nominations ('cos this is my blog!) and will announce the winners shortly. For the RTR Readers Awards (Best Show and Worst Show of 2010) I need you to nominate!

21 December 2010

The Nutcracker - ENB at the London Coliseum - Wednesday 15th December 2010

Synopsis:
Guests arrive at the Stahlbaum house for a Christmas Eve party.  Clara's uncle, Herr Drosslemeyer, a magician, is among the guests.  He introduces Clara to his nephew and gives her a nutcracker doll, which is broken by Freddie, Clara's brother.  It is magically mended.  Drosselmeyer presents a magical puppet show.  The guests leave after the party and Clara is sent to bed. 

Waking at midnight, Clara hears noises downstairs and goes to investigate.  Magically, the Christmas tree grows larger and larger, and Clara is attacked by mice. She is rescued by the Nutcracker doll, commanding a regiment of Freddie's toy soldiers.  The Nutcracker is injured and the soldiers are captured by the mice.  Clara and the Nutcracker escape into the snow, followed by the King of the Mice, where they are hidden by a snowstorm.  A hot-air balloon, containing Drosselmeyer, lands in the forest and flies them to safety in the Kingdom of the Sweets.  Unfortunately they fail to realise that the King of the Mice is hanging from the bottom of the balloon's basket.

Landing in the Kingdom of the Sweets.  Drosslemeyer and the Nutcracker finally manage to defeat the King of the Mice.  Clara is entertained by dances given by the Sweets.  She is transformed into the Sugar Plum Fairy, and dances with the Nutcracker, who takes on the appearance of Drosselmeyer's nephew.

Waking on Christmas Day, Clara wonders if it has all been a dream.  Looking out of the door, she sees the hot air balloon flying past....

Cast:
Clara – Fernanda Oliveira
Nutcracker Prince – Fabian Reimar
Drosselmeyer – Juan Rodriguez
His Nephew – James Forbat
Mouse King – Yat-Sen Chang
Creative Team:
Music: Tchaikovsky
Choreography – Wayne Eagling
Design – Peter Farmer
Lighting – David Richardson
Its not Christmas without The Nutcracker. Fortunately, English National Ballet have finally jettisoned the pile of crap they have been foisting on the public for the last however-many years (I reviewed it last year and a complete load of crud it was too). Their new production is far more traditional and far better, making the company look much better. Unfortunately, the choreography is still way below par (the big pas de deux in Act II is a complete lift from the Birmingham Royal Ballet production that I witter on about ad nauseum to anyone who will listen and Act II is still as dreary and uninspiring as it always is - the story always grinds to a complete halt and becomes a series of interminable divertissments; its time someone had the courage to jettison these at least partially and do a re-write). Even so, there were several moments when principals couldn’t cope very well with what they were given and simply looked uncomfortable.
It was, for me, a game of two halves (with kick-off enlivened by a slight spat with a woman in the row in front who had draped her fur coat over the back of her seat and who was clearly concerned that I was going to steal it. I countered her fussings and re-organisings with “Don’t worry madam, I’m not going to spit on your furs” (a change from my usual anti-fur comment of “Excuse me, there seems to be blood dripping from your coat, Madam”). “Oh”, she replied, managing to put about 8 vowels in the monosyllable, “it’s railly nylon!” (as if someone in a £65 seat is going to be wearing a nylon coat over her Yves St. Laurent suit. Yes, and I’m Little Noddy, madam.) Anyway, I digress.
Visually, Act 1 is really, really lovely visually. There are people skating on the frozen pond in front of the Stalhbaum’s house, and the sets and costumes are in lovely muted and “antique” browns, creams, dull pinks and creams with the occasional mint green or pale blue dress or ribbon setting everything off nicely. The whole party scene is set behind a gauze, giving a misty and slightly hazy look, as if lit by candlelight (although the Christmas tree is bedecked with red, yellow and green fairy lights, which is completely wrong for the mid to late 19th century). Uncle Drosselmeyer’s magic tricks are somewhat laboured however, and there’s a completely irrelevant puppet-show taking the place of the traditional harlequin and clown automata. The confusion is heightened when people dressed as characters from the puppet show start a long, complicated and unexplained section of dance which adds nothing to the story so far (reading the pro reviews at a later date, I find that the people are Clara's elder sister and her three suitors). The rest of the party dancing, however, is lovely to watch, and I was relieved that the faintly embarrassing “Grandma and Grandpa” dance is here changed to a pas-de-quatre for the whole Stalhbaum family, which was a lot more dignified. The final sections of Act 1 were, in themselves, a game of two halves. The part in which the Christmas tree grows huge (or Clara shrinks) was a real disappointment – nothing in the room changed apart from the Grandfather clock (which I think grew bigger at the incorrect moment) and the tree itself was simply pulled up into the flies to make it look as if it had grown (at least one of the pro reviewers was as disappointed with this bit as I was). The anachronistic fairy lights didn’t extend the entire length of the bigger tree and it was pulled up too far so you could see it was simply a bit of painted cloth. The mice, however, were wonderful – really scary – with eyes blazing from skeletal heads and dressed in tattered Jacobean ruffs, doublet and hose. I loved the idea of using a huge mousetrap to fire bits of cheese at the toy soldiers, although they only did this once and it seemed a bit wasted not to make more use of the idea. This is also the first production I’ve seen where the mice actually win – the toy soldiers are taken off in a cage and Clara and the injured Nutcracker escape by running out of the house into the snow, which makes for a completely logical change to the woods of the next scene. The snowstorm scene is, for me, the defining scene of Nutcracker – fail here and you lose me entirely, regardless of how wonderful the rest of the production may be. In this production, this scene is really rather workaday – not awful, but then not really anything very special. At least, however, the snowflakes didn’t jump out of the freezer as in ENB’s old production! That production suffered mightily at this point by completely failing to include the traditional off-stage children’s chorus (I thought I had gone deaf) so it was a relief to have it back. However, regardless of the fact that the Coliseum is an opera house, it was sung by the children from the company, and was at times painfully out of tune – less “aaaah, ahhhh, aaaaaaaaaaahhhhhh” than “aaah augggh #awwwwuggggggghhhh#”. Perhaps they were trying to scare the mice away? I said to Him Indoors afterwards that they should have had a chorus of opera students, but this was dismissed out of hand with “There are no opera students that young”. “Well then, St. Martin’s in the Fields is just round the corner and ENB should have rented their choristers to do the job properly rather than have that load of caterwauling” I replied. This useful, practical and entirely appropriate suggestion was ignored, sad to say.
All the good ideas of Act I were completely thrown away in Act 2. What looked like it might be an interesting continuation of the story (the Nutcracker and Clara were followed to the Kingdom of Sweets by the Mouse King) went completely for nothing and fizzled out within 5 minutes, the dark green set was incredibly dreary  and desperately under-lit (although enlivened by part of the Stahlbaum’s parlour dropping in unexpectedly for about 18 bars and then disappearing just as rapidly as the stagehand responsible realised his mistake) and there was no Sugar Plum Fairy – simply Clara in a different costume. Boooooo! Cheeeeeap! The divertissments* were, as usual, uninspiring, boring or, occasionally, completely bewildering. There now follows a short intermission in order to explain the asterisk in the last sentence.
* Each dance in what is termed “The Nutcracker Suite” represents an expensive and festive foodstuff that Clara might be expected to find in her Christmas stocking. The Spanish Dance represents oranges, which in the 19th century and well into the early 20th century (i.e. before year-round-everything in supermarkets) were only seen in northern Europe as a Christmas treat, The Arabian Dance is coffee, the Chinese Dance is Tea. The Dance of the Myrlitons (commonly known to those of a certain age as “Everyone’s a fruit and nut-case”) is candy-cane flutes, the Russian Dance is “trepak” which is a kind of toffee-fudge, the Waltz of the Flowers is candied flower petals. The Kingdom of Sweets is, appropriately, ruled by the Sugar-Plum Fairy; remember the line from “The Night Before Christmas” when the children were sleeping “and visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads”? Well, plums were another traditional 19th century festive treat, which is why what we call Christmas Pudding is called Plum Pudding by Dickens and others. Who said that this blog wasn’t educational? And now back to your usual programme.
“Coffee” seemed to be a lecture on the evils of the slave trade as instead of generic Arabian Nights stuff, Clara rescued two slaves carrying sacks (possibly of coffee) from a bloke in baggy pants and his four harem girls. We had no candy canes but got the reappearance of the people who danced in front of the puppet show in Act 1, three of whom wore the same costumes as they had the first time round and one of whom who had changed her ballgown for something slightly skimpier. Their presence seemed completely unexplained until a huge net sprang out of the wings and flopped over the woman. This confirmed that she was, in fact, being a butterfly, but failed to explain why she was being a butterfly, why the three men from Act 1 were dancing with her or indeed exactly what the entire point of this bit was in any way. The Waltz of the Flowers looked rather under-rehearsed and thin – it should have been an “all hands on deck” moment but ENB’s very small corps looked completely marooned on the chilly expanses of the ENO house. Fernanda Oliviera did an OK job as Clara but when she took on the role of the Sugar Plum Fairy her shortcomings were cruelly exposed. But still, the evening is a darned sight better entertainment than the old production, for which I suppose I should be grateful
The journey home was enlivened by reading an incredibly pompous interview with the designer in the programme.
“When I first did Giselle, she was always in blue and I had great fights about it, but it was only the influence of Walt Disney. Now I notice that not all Giselle’s are in blue, so maybe I made some poor attempt to influence them”.
Well, Mr. Farmer, let me correct you there. Giselle traditionally wears a blue dress in the ballet of the same name, simply because the costume designer of the first ever production (1851)was madly in love with the dancer who created the role of Giselle; she apparently had stunning blue eyes and the costume was made to enhance these. The first Disney heroine to wear blue was Cinderella, which was made in 1950, so this film had no influence on the blue costume traditionally worn by Giselle in the ballet. Many modern Giselle’s still wear blue. Some don’t – and I doubt that you’ve had any influence on this at all.

What the critics thought:
(a distinctly mixed bag of reviews, most of which comment on the dreadful lighting design):
http://www.independent.co.uk/arts-entertainment/theatre-dance/reviews/the-nutcracker-coliseum-londonbrfaeries-linbury-studio-london-2164130.html

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/culture/theatre/dance/8198500/The-Nutcracker-ENB-London-Coliseum-review.html

http://www.theartsdesk.com/index.php?option=com_k2&view=item&id=2761:the-nutcracker-enb-london-coliseum&Itemid=27

An incredibly pompous interview with the designer!