JACK AND THE BEANSTALK
December 14, 2010
Derngate, Northampton, until Sunday, January 9, 2011
WHEN it comes to entertaining kids at Christmas, you can’t just serve up any old tat and expect them to like it. As the old theatre adage goes, they’re the toughest of audiences.
But children of all ages will be lapping up the traditional fare on offer at Northampton’s Derngate in the shape of Jack and the Beanstalk.
It may not have the glitz and glamour of some of its competitors, but there’s a sincerity and charm at the heart of this show that proves infectious and warming on a cold Christmas night.
It’s all good stuff, from the twinkle and youthful vitality of leading man Ray Quinn to the villainous braggadocio of Gavin Woods’s swaggering Fleshcreep. The Princess (Emma Stephens) is delightful and pretty, Adam Stafford’s Dame Trot is pitched with just the right amount of fruitiness and fun, and Daisy the Cow provides a star turn of truly bovine proportions.
But the real show-stealer comes in the form of Hilary O’Neil’s Fairy Cobblers, whose immense range of impressions and vocal gymnastics makes her every appearance a joy to be savoured. Why she has not become a household name is beyond me.
I have the usual quibbles with a pantomime that steadfastly refuses to feature live music without announcing it clearly in its publicity, and producers Qdos Entertainment must shoulder the opprobrium for this shameful state of affairs, which short-changes the audience of a whole added dimension for what can only be reasons of Scrooge-like miserliness.
But that grumble aside, there’s precious little else in this lively extravaganza to make a critic exclaim: “Bah! Humbug!”
THE LION, THE WITCH AND THE WARDROBE
December 3, 2010
Royal Theatre, Northampton, until Sunday, January 9, 2011
THE alternative festive presentation has become a firm fixture in the Royal and Derngate calendar, offering a more theatrical option for those who taste may not run to the booing and hissing of traditional panto.
But that’s not to say there’s any less enjoyment to be had in the intimate, cosy surroundings of the Royal auditorium and this stage adaptation of the CS Lewis children’s classic The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe.
The sheer scope of the tale, from war-torn London to the battle-scarred plains of Narnia itself, means there’s a massive challenge of scale facing director Dani Parr and her huge team of actors, musicians and supporting community cast. The fact that every location, creature and dramatic event has the power to transport the audience just about anywhere says much for the success of meeting that challenge.
Theresa Heskins’s faithful script and James Atherton’s unmemorable music score may never quite catch the magic, but there’s a whole range of skills, talents and abundant imagination on show to carry it off instead.
The four ‘children’ at the heart of the story are superbly played by Kyle McPhail, Alice O’Connell, Peter McGovern and Hayley Ellenbrook. This utterly believable quartet take you by the hand and lead you into the winter-stricken wonderland through the wardrobe, where their adventures are pacily played out on a versatile if complicated set designed by Jess Curtis.
Georgina White gives us a fine, over-the-top White Witch and there are some delightful animal cameos – particularly Mr and Mrs Beaver (Matthew J Henry and Louise Shuttleworth) – while other cast members also play a plethora of instruments under the capable guidance of musical director Zara Nunn.
It’s endlessly inventive, full of action and enthusiasm, and if the whole doesn’t quite weave the magical spell of the original book there’s no shortage of entertainment value in a highly enjoyable couple of hours or so.
DREAMBOATS AND PETTICOATS
November 22, 2010
Derngate, Northampton, until November 27, 2010, then tour continues
BEING given free rein to plunder the back catalogue of Universal Music must have seemed like a dream come true to writing partnership Laurence Marks and Maurice Gran.
The team behind TV production company Alomo, whose on-screen hits have included Birds of a Feather, Goodnight Sweetheart and The New Statesman, were asked to create the script for a new musical based around the album compilations being issued under the title Dreamboats and Petticoats.
The result, now well into its second year of touring, is much more than a straightforward jukebox musical: this is a proper show with a proper story.
Framed by the dramatic device of an ageing Bobby recalling his youth for the benefit of his granddaughter, the tale follows the teenage Bobby’s life and loves in 1961 Essex. There are jokey pastiches, topical references and – seemingly – hundreds of toe-tapping tunes from the era, which is brilliantly evoked by Sean Cavanagh’s design and Carole Todd’s choreography. The live music, performed by an ultra-talented cast of actor-musicians, is blisteringly good and meshes perfectly with the witty and entertaining book.
Among the huge roll-call of performers, Josh Capper stands out as the young Bobby, with fabulous support from Francesca Jackson as the object of his affection, Sue, and a stunning Wayne Smith as his best mate Ray, but there’s strength and boundless energy throughout the infectiously buoyant cast.
Director Bob Tomson never lets the pace falter and you’re never more than a couple of minutes away from another song, which means the whole thing has something of the feel of a Saturday night gig at the Gaumont. And there’s just no stopping the audience at the first invitation to leap to their feet.
SUNSHINE ON LEITH
November 9, 2010
Derngate, Northampton, until Saturday, November 13, 2010, then tour continues
RARELY have I come across a show more desperate to be loved. From the jaunty spring in the dance captain’s every step to the rousing entreaties to join in the chanting final chorus of I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles), there’s enthusiasm and energy at every turn.
This is The Proclaimers musical and, like the Reid twins who created the songs, it’s quirky, amusing and something of an acquired taste. Like a good malt whisky.
The performances are terrific. Billy Boyd is charming, vocally superb and a vital central focus as Davy, one of the two childhood pals who return to Leith together after leaving the army. Michael Moreland as his foil Ally is gritty and truthful, and their pairing is strongly reminiscent of the Proclaimers themselves. As Davy’s parents, Ann Louise Ross and – understudying magnificently – George Drennan put in a wonderful and poignant double act, while love interests Jo Freer and Zoe Rainey sing and act delightfully.
There’s able support from a large company, too, and a vibrant pit band under musical director Hilary Brooks.
However, there’s a lot missing where the crucial heart of the show should be, and it’s not just the fact that two well-known songs is not enough of a back catalogue on which to build a jukebox musical.
Writer Stephen Greenhorn has created a script around the songs in which there’s simply not enough story. Each episodic scene feels little more than a justification to shoe-horn in an appropriate number: thus one character is made to emigrate to Florida as an excuse for her parents to sing Letter From America.
And for a show that warns in its own dialogue of the dangers of stereotyping, there’s a whole Dundee cake of cardboard cutout Scottishness on display, from the drinking, smoking, fried-breakfast-eating dad who suffers a massive coronary to the anniversary ceilidh that descends into a drunken brawl.
Director James Brining mines some nice moments – the pre-fight ceilidh is touching and powerful, and the pub soccer fans’ rendition of Let’s Get Married is a big production number – but it’s barely enough to carry the show. That job is left to the infectious, catchy songs, and while they’re just about up to it, it’s a musical that is always going to score more highly in Edinburgh or Aberdeen than in the Sassenach south.
THE DUCHESS OF MALFI
October 22, 2010
Royal Theatre, Northampton, until Saturday, October 30, 2010
THROUGH the claustrophobic blackness of Ruth Sutcliffe’s grim, imposing set, glimpses of a giant Caravaggio canvas loom large over the action. It’s a handy metaphor for the whole production: this version of Webster’s bleak tragedy is all about the images.
Director Laurie Sansom has taken the relentless misery of the 1623 text and merged it with the strange, other-worldly music of Webster’s contemporary, the violent and probably insane wife-killer Gesualdo. This combination of unstable talents – not Sansom, you understand – provides the shifting and dangerous backdrop for a performance of equally uncertain elements.
The first thing to say is that it looks magnificent. There’s a consistent vision throughout of decaying decadence in a time of corruption and chaos, and the corresponding decay of the ingenious and complex set works brilliantly.
Equally, the use of five chorus-like madrigal singers on stage to underscore the dramatic action is both vocally impressive and subtly intimidating: who would have thought a glee club could be so threatening?
Among the main players there is more of a mixed bag, but assured performances are offered by the likeable though wronged Antonio (Nick Blood) and the Duchess’s maid Cariola (Claire Dargo). Elsewhere, there is sometimes a struggle to mine the meaning from the poetry – verse-speaking is an endemic problem, in fact – and there is little sense of metre or lyricism as the language is subverted to the bigger picture of the unfolding narrative.
But when that narrative is so imaginatively presented and beautifully, elegantly staged, it’s easier to make allowances for other shortcomings. The audience, certainly, seemed to be convinced.
SPAMALOT
September 27, 2010
Derngate, Northampton, until October 2, 2010, then tour continues
I JUST love this show. As one of those self-confessed anoraks who can recite vast chunks of Life of Brian or the Parrot Sketch with all the original vocal inflections, for me Eric Idle’s musical “rip-off” of Monty Python and the Holy Grail is the realisation of a schoolboy fantasy.
It’s got all the silliness you might expect from the team that invented the French Taunter and the Knights of Ni. It’s also got a first-rate book by Idle that cleverly squeezes in other bits of Python to the basic framework of the Holy Grail movie, while adding its own fantastically satirical humour about the musical genre itself.
Plus there are plenty of wonderful songs and music from John du Prez, Idle’s writing partner, who helps to create what is unquestionably a proper musical from the bits of outrageous comedy the Pythons left lying about.
The down side to knowing it inside out and backwards is that when new performers come in and put their own stamp on it, somehow it doesn’t feel quite right. That’s not to say the show doesn’t stand up entirely in its own right – it undoubtedly does, with bells on – but there is just a bit of a nagging voice murmuring quietly in one’s ear: That’s not how John Cleese did it…
That said, this touring production, directed by Christopher Luscombe, brings the house down. Python fans in the audience chuckle knowingly from start to finish, while anyone who’s lived on another planet for the past 40 years and therefore might not actually know every line can find endless sources of belly-laugh gags, both verbal and visual.
It’s become customary with Spamalot to parachute in star names – as the show self-referentially parodies – in the roles of King Arthur and the Lady of the Lake. In Northampton, we get stand-up comedian Marcus Brigstocke, who battles manfully if a little uncomfortably with the singing and dancing he’s required to do, and Emmerdale’s Hayley Tamaddon, whose over-the-top diva gets some of the biggest laughs.
But the stand-out performance comes from one-time EastEnder Todd Carty as Arthur’s downtrodden servant Patsy, banging his coconuts together for horses’ hooves and giving a fine rendition of the infectiously catchy Always Look on the Bright Side of Life. You’re whistling already, aren’t you?
It’s colourful in a pantomime kind of way and guaranteed to send you home with a smile and a whistle. And what more could you ask of a musical?
THE TALENTED MR RIPLEY
September 24, 2010
Royal Theatre, Northampton, until Saturday, October 9, 2010
IDENTITY theft is a hot topic in the 21st Century world of electronic data and internet fraud. But it provides the central theme for Patricia Highsmith’s dark novel about a twisted young man who resorts to murder.
I’m surely not giving anything away here, since film versions with Matt Damon and John Malkovich have made the story – and the character of Ripley – almost iconic. And here lies one of the problems facing playwright Phyllis Nagy with her adaptation: how do you transfer an essentially episodic, filmic narrative to the stage?
Her answer, reinforced by director Raz Shaw, is to use a number of stylistic devices, including having Ripley speak directly to the audience, overlapping scenes and cutting between conversations, and employing minimal sets and props.
The result is a fascinating mixed bag and extremely hard to review. There are moments of real tension and passages of tiresome exposition. There are characters with depth and dimension and others of cartoon simplicity.
At the heart of it is Tom Ripley himself, and here lies another problem. Ripley undergoes no emotional journey, his character is irredeemably unsympathetic and his range extends only between repressed anger and violent fury. The fact that Kyle Soller is utterly watchable says much, much more about this actor’s intelligent and dangerous performance than it does about the script he’s given to work with.
Soller is never off-stage throughout three long hours, even conducting his costume changes in full view and mid-speech. It’s something of a tour de force and a truly impressive lynchpin at the centre of the production.
Sam Heughan as the object of his obsession makes the best of a limp role, while Michelle Ryan – whose Hollywood credentials have been much exploited in the marketing – also puts in a couple of strong cameos, giving Soller plenty to play off.
It has already been suggested that this is a Marmite production – you’ll either love it or hate it – but I would modify that slightly. If the overall impression is of a rather tricksy, gimmicky staging of a story with limited dimensions, the performances themselves offer a great deal to intrigue and entertain.
CHESS THE MUSICAL
September 14, 2010
Derngate, Northampton, until Saturday, September 18, 2010, then touring
THERE’S an essential paradox at the heart of Chess: how do you make a big, impressive show out of a story about a little game and the claustrophobic, intimate relationships between its players?
Benny Andersson and Bjorn Ulvaeus, the musical geniuses behind ABBA, teamed up with lyricist Tim Rice in 1986 to have a damn good go. Their resulting score is itself a paradox – sometimes soaringly extravagant, occasionally sublime, often dense and confusing.
Now director Craig Revel Horwood – best known as a panellist on the BBC’s Strictly Come Dancing – is taking a new production out on the road, working with long-time musical collaborator Sarah Travis. Between them, the pair have successfully used the technique of actor-musicians to stage versions of Sweeney Todd and Mack and Mabel, among others.
Unfortunately, the technique falls down with this particular show. Around half-a-dozen or so central characters, a sizeable chorus of fabulously dressed chess ‘pieces’ double up as the on-stage orchestra, commenting on and driving the action that unfolds on a central checkerboard area.
The designs (Christopher Woods) are extraordinary, the visual effect dramatic and powerful. But Horwood’s focus on how the thing looks has the side-effect of diminishing any drama or emotion to be found in the playing. And having a Russian grandmaster tinkle out a musical counterpoint on a glockenspiel is just faintly ridiculous.
There are also impossibly huge demands made of the performers. While some of the singing voices on stage are truly terrific, both in quality and range, there’s a trade-off against the acting, which can be patchy. Exceptions to this are Shona White, a real musical star who somehow makes sense of the difficult and dysfunctional character Florence, and James Graeme and Steve Varnom, both relishing their second-string roles with cameos of style as well as substance.
There are sound problems too, and when so much of the narrative is reliant on Rice’s clever and complex lyrics, it’s a major failing not to be able to hear them properly.
The production is epic, overblown and slightly bewildering. There’s no denying the money and effort spent on putting it all on stage. But in the end, it’s full of sound and fury while, for me, it signified nothing very much.
TELL ME ON A SUNDAY
September 3, 2010
Royal Theatre, Northampton, until Saturday, September 4, 2010, then touring
FOR a piece with such a complicated history, the producers of Tell Me On A Sunday have made a pretty good job of making it hang together.
Originally written as a one-hour TV show for Marti Webb, this Andrew Lloyd Webber composition has been paired with a ballet to make Song and Dance, extended to showcase the talents of Denise van Outen, and now reworked again for Scouse songstress Claire Sweeney on a tour kicking off in Northampton’s bijou Royal Theatre.
Certainly, the venue does exactly the right job of creating an intimate, almost conversational atmosphere, and Janet Bird’s set design is all moody blues and shocking pinks. The visual tone echoes the split personality of the one and only character, the English girl in New York, whose lurch from one love affair to another straddles the emotions from girlish delight to womanly yearning and soul-searching.
Directed securely by Tamara Harvey, Sweeney herself proves a fine actress and engages all these emotions with a likeable, chirpy personality defying all the heartaches to emerge a strong, slightly more independent woman.
And if Lloyd Webber gives her impossibly wide-ranging notes to match the emotions in his under-powered, off-the-shelf score, then it’s tough to blame the star if she struggles occasionally to reach the extremities of the vocal gymnastics.
It’s a slight piece and the pared-down, five-piece, on-stage band under musical director Jae Alexander does well to create as much texture and nuance as it can, but the show never quite has the same glint in the eye as its star does.
The production looks stylish, Sweeney is charming and charismatic and the Royal has sold out its brief run – all big pluses. But anyone expecting a grand Lloyd Webber barnstormer is likely to come away just a little bit disappointed.
TOWN
June 28, 2010
Royal Theatre, Northampton, until Saturday, July 3, 2010
LET’S get the whole Northampton thing out of the way first – and as a native, I feel somewhat qualified to comment. This is not a play about Northampton. Yes, it includes a few references to place names – although I can’t imagine any resident of Jimmy’s End actually calling it “St James” – and the action supposedly takes place in different parts of the town.
But you could just as easily substitute any suburb of Nottingham or Bristol or Newcastle and the drama would remain unchanged.
So, aside from this gripe about a play at the heart of the Royal and Derngate’s Northampton season not really being about the town at all, what is it about?
Playwright DC Moore, whose recent one-man short piece Honest was brutal and funny in the Mailcoach pub earlier this year, has come up with another work of arresting frankness. And what it’s really about is disaffected youth and mental illness.
John (a superbly bewildered Mark Rice-Oxley) has walked back to his parents’ Northampton home after quitting his job in London. The walk echoes that of the 18th century poet John Clare, who returned to the town after escaping an asylum in Epping Forest, and thus introduces the possibility that today’s John is also having some kind of mental breakdown.
He finds little solace with his dysfunctional parents and manages to alienate his former schoolfriend, Anna, by falling in with Mary, a 17-year-old tearaway and fellow social outcast.
There are some amusing moments and some truly empathetic performances – Fred Pearson judges the father’s mix of casual racism and unconditional love just right, while Joanna Horton’s sad Anna, who lives in a bedsit and watches old Star Trek episodes, neatly transmutes into the voice of reason in a poignant and touching performance.
It’s all played out on the stage of the Royal, which has been converted into a studio theatre for the occasion. With the auditorium closed off, two banks of seats have been erected either side of a traverse performance area running the width of the stage, which helps to accentuate the air of disjointed awkwardness. Director Esther Richardson also does a fine job in bringing to life the lost and lonely nature of the protagonist with her intelligent staging, although surely Dawn Allsopp’s set design should be more warm Northamptonshire sandstone than slate-grey slabs?
In the end, it’s all pretty grey and grim. If it purports to show today’s youth, that’s depressing. If it purports to show today’s Northampton, ditto with bells on. But full marks to the Royal and Derngate for the bold initiative, even if the results don’t quite come off.
A FAMILY GUIDE TO THE ORCHESTRA
June 13, 2010
Derngate, Northampton
WHAT a partnership it is between the Royal & Derngate and the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra. The band is the resident orchestra for R&D’s annual season of concerts, and this one-off afternoon performance featured the added draw of TV favourite Martin Clunes as its narrator.
Intended to introduce orchestral work to younger people, the programme was beautifully designed, and Clunes added just the right amount of wit and warmth to the stunning playing of the musicians under guest conductor Barry Wordsworth.
Opening with Elgar’s Cockaigne Concert Overture, the performance invited novices and old hands alike to learn about and appreciate the different sections within a symphony orchestra.
Among the classics specifically designed for such a purpose were Prokofiev’s delightful Peter and the Wolf, which uses a variety of instruments to evoke animals through the narrated folk story, and Britten’s Young Person’s Guide to the Orchestra, a stunning reworking of a theme by Purcell into a fabulous tour through the sections, with variations and counterpoint building to a breathtaking finale.
But alongside the seasoned classics were lesser-known works such as the charming tale of Tubby the Tuba, whose desperate search for a tune of his own leads him to a starring role in the orchestra.
Rounding off each half of the programme were two movie scores that were as well known to a 21st century youngster as any piece of classical music: the themes from Harry Potter and Star Wars, both by the unsurpassed film composer John Williams.
As a way to send the audience home humming memorable tunes performed by an orchestra at the top of its game, this was intelligent planning, and Wordsworth and his huge ensemble deserved every bit of the rapturous reception they received from a crowd of vast age range.
STOP MESSING ABOUT
April 15, 2010
Derngate, Northampton, until Saturday, April 17, 2010, then tour continues
IT must have been something of an irritation to Kenneth Williams that he was never quite in the same stratosphere of stardom as some of his comedic contemporaries.
Whether it was down to his unique vocal characterisations, his Carry On niche or his overt homosexuality, somehow his star never seemed to shine quite as brightly as, say, Frankie Howerd or Morecambe and Wise.
Maybe that’s why it took until 1970 for the BBC to give him his own radio series, named after his most memorable catchphrase, instead of playing second fiddle to Kenneth Horne or Tony Hancock.
Written by comedy veterans Johnnie Mortimer and Brian Cooke – the partnership behind such TV successes as Man About the House and Father Dear Father – the show also included Carry On’s Joan Sims and longtime Williams collaborator Hugh Paddick.
Now, some of the best of those radio scripts have been adapted into a stage show featuring the extraordinary impersonation of Robin Sebastian, who captures the mannerisms, rhythms and fluctuations of the Williams voice with uncanny accuracy.
The show has its limitations. On a set designed to look like a 1970 BBC radio studio, the four performers are stuck primarily with standing behind microphones, scripts in hand, in supposed replication of the original recording sessions. This makes for a highly static theatre production and puts rather too much emphasis on Sebastian, who is forced to resort to increasingly desperate asides and mugging to keep things moving.
There are also questions to be asked about the script itself: are these really the best 90 minutes from the entire radio series? If so, what on earth must they have left out?
But Sebastian is ably supported by India Fisher as an ebullient Sims and Nigel Harrison as an amiable Paddick, with Charles Armstrong putting in a sterling effort as the put-upon BBC announcer Douglas Smith.
As you might expect, double entendre is the order of the day, and some of the gags must have been claiming their pensions even in 1970, but it’s all harmless enough stuff, and there are plenty of laughs to be found among the oohs and aahs and ‘Oh Matron!’
And if you just close your eyes and listen to that flamboyant, fabulous voice, you could almost believe Kenneth Williams was in the theatre with you.
THE WOMAN IN BLACK
April 6, 2010
Royal Theatre, Northampton, until Saturday, April 10, 2010, then tour continues
IF there’s a more perfect setting for a chilling ghost story than the haunted Victorian auditorium of Northampton’s Royal Theatre, I defy anyone to name it.
But the setting is only half the story in this stage adaptation of Susan Hill’s popular novel, worked by playwright Stephen Mallatratt into a thrilling piece of theatre that has gripped audiences in London and on tour for almost a quarter of a century.
It’s all about atmosphere. Lighting, sound, props, stage skulduggery – they all combine to wonderful effect, building tension and setting up spine-tingling moments of real excitement and drama.
At heart, the tale reveals the unfolding history of the mysterious woman in black, seen occasionally in the swirling sea mists around Eel Marsh House, a vast pile of a place accessible only by a tidal causeway.
Ingeniously, Mallatratt frames this with a plot in which the main protagonist, Arthur Kipps, is seeking the help of a professional actor many years later to retell the ‘true’ story in the hope of exorcising his demons.
This allows all the tricks and devices of the theatre to be employed to devastating effect as the Actor rehearses the story with Kipps through to its chilling conclusion.
Along the way there are twists and turns, shocks and surprises and even things that go bump in the night, and director Robin Herford keeps the emotions simmering nicely in his steady pacing and imaginative staging.
Robert Demeger as Kipps and Peter Bramhill as the Actor work together terrifically, as well they might in the middle of a long national tour, and exploit all the elements of script and staging to optimum effect, with quite a few laughs thrown in for light relief.
It’s a well-made, carefully crafted production which delivers its coups de theatre with a sure touch, making them all the more effective. While it may not be for those of a nervous disposition, it’s certainly a treat for fans of the genre – if there are any left after all this time who still haven’t seen it.
SONDHEIM 80th BIRTHDAY CONCERT
April 4, 2010
Derngate, Northampton
TAKE the world’s leading writer of musicals, give his lush scores to one of the UK’s top orchestras and throw in three of the country’s best exponents of musical theatre – it’s a recipe for a storming success.
And that’s just what Royal & Derngate offered with this one-off concert, part of the Royal Philharmonic’s orchestral season as the resident band at the venue.
To celebrate Stephen Sondheim’s 80th birthday, the RPO under vibrant music director David Firman paraded a succession of fabulous show tunes from his extensive, eclectic back catalogue.
To front the occasion, West End legend Maria Friedman led a trio of stunning singers giving voice to Sondheim’s witty and wonderful lyrics. Graham Bickley and Daniel Evans – both highly experienced musical theatre stars in their own right – provided the perfect foil for Friedman with intelligent, emotional renderings of the songs, and their ensemble work, especially for a concert performance, was stunningly tight and impressive.
Friedman herself arrived on stage to announce that she had flown to Paris for an audience with the maestro himself to gain permission to perform a specially edited, 45-minute version of Merrily We Roll Along. The three of them then proceeded to shine with a potted masterclass in Sondheim performance, opening out later in the programme to include numbers from shows including Sweeney Todd, Follies and A Little Night Music.
From the heartrending pathos of Send In The Clowns to the dazzling dexterity of the patter song Getting Married, every number was a beautifully crafted example of how Sondheim combines music and lyrics to devastating theatrical effect, and the extraordinary individual virtuosity of the three singers paid full tribute to the composer’s skills.
The multi-talented Evans – now also artistic director of Sheffield’s Crucible Theatre – revealed a remarkable vocal instrument, particularly in the higher register, while Bickley’s baritone was full of warmth and charm. Friedman, meanwhile, held the whole thing together with a classy display of leading lady pizzazz, and the three of them were clearly having a whale of a time, backed by the rich, expansive sounds of the RPO in full flow.
Sondheim himself, over in Paris, must have been feeling a little twinge of pride at this full-bodied, eye-twinkling tribute.
THREE SISTERS
March 16, 2010
Royal Theatre, Northampton, until Saturday, March 20, 2010, then tour continues
IT’S sometimes claimed that you can’t take liberties with Chekhov the way you can with Shakespeare. The dismal pre-Revolutionary Russian is too specific in his portrayals of a decaying middle class falling apart in their country houses.
This production is here to render all that complete nonsense.
The entire depth and width of the Royal stage are laid bare, complete with fully visible lighting rigs, sound desks and stage managers, then crammed with furniture, props and assorted stuff at the start of Act One, inside the house of the titular three sisters.
By the end of the play, everything’s been literally stripped away to leave a bare black space with just a swing to evoke the estate’s garden.
The use of space, transparency and physical things is just part of the inventive, mind-shifting approach of this co-production by the Lyric, Hammersmith, and theatre company Filter, which is nearing the end of its national tour.
Other trademarks include the imaginative and evocative use of sound, with microphones strategically placed to capture whispered exchanges or offstage conversations. One particular highlight is the breathtaking boiling of a kettle. And that’s a sentence you don’t expect to read too often.
Among the performances, Poppy Miller, Romola Garai and Clare Dunne are outstanding as the sisters, each carving out a living variant of the genetic roots that bind them together and all ranging confidently in emotional intensity.
Among the many hangers-on circulating around the family, Jonathan Broadbent offers a nicely drawn suitor, Paul Brennen a meticulous schoolmaster and John Lightbody an appropriately dashing military type with buckles to swash.
Occasionally, the delivery of Christopher Hampton’s fine translation feels a little rushed for a company so dedicated to the lyricism of the language, but the overall spectacle and the underlying disintegration are acutely portrayed, giving a fascinating modern twist on a century-old classic.
MY ZINC BED
March 5, 2010
Royal Theatre, Northampton, until Saturday, March 13, 2010
INTELLIGENT, thoughtful theatre that provokes any questioning of the status quo is often belittled as unfashionable or subversive.
There are those who would argue that this is, in fact, the very job of the playwright.
Artistic director Laurie Sansom has resurrected a play from 2000 by David Hare which accomplishes exactly that with a tough, clearly-defined analysis of the role of Alcoholics Anonymous. Benign force for good or sinister cult, Hare seems to be asking.
And yet the play, which presents multi-millionaire Victor Quinn in direct opposition to young AA apologist Paul Peplow, seems unequivocal in its answers: by the end, Quinn is dead and Peplow is back in the AA fold.
It’s even debatable whether the play is actually about alcohol at all. For my money, it’s as much a metaphor for the destructive power of love – and the struggle with addiction to it – as anything else.
Under Sansom’s direction, Quinn’s world – like his younger wife Elsa – is starkly luxurious, seductively cold, and Jess Curtis’s set design, ingeniously lit by Anna Watson, compounds the detachment with which we are invited to see Peplow and his view of the world.
As the tyrannical Quinn, Robert Gwilym errs occasionally toward the bombastic, but there’s no denying his presence and authority, whether he’s actually on stage or not.
Leanne Best is slippery and sly as the manipulative Elsa, but it’s the performance of Jamie Parker as the disintegrating Peplow that really carries the piece. Ranging confidently across the emotional spectrum, he’s always entirely believable and extremely engaging as the young poet-turned-web-copywriter whose defeat of his internal demons is systematically undermined by both his boss Quinn and his illicit lover Elsa. His torment, his collapse of will and his self-awareness of his own fallibility are brilliantly evoked in a performance of boldness and maturity.
It’s not for the faint-hearted, but it’s a production of raw power and deep, probing emotion.
HONEST
March 3, 2010
The Mailcoach, Northampton, until Saturday, March 13, 2010
ON the face of it, Honest is 45 minutes of a foul-mouthed, misanthropic bloke raging semi-incoherently at his trapped pub audience about the unfairness of life.
His brother lives in a huge South London mansion after marrying into money, his boss earns a packet doing a rubbish job and his life’s a mess as he’s supposedly blown about by the cruel whims of fate.
All of this is playwright DC Moore’s starting point for a subtle, biting satire on the state of the nation. Anything’s in the firing line, from corporate greed to recreational drug-taking, and the scattergun approach of the writing is as devastating as a machine gun.
It’s cleverly done, too, in a corner of the Mailcoach pub, produced by the neighbouring Royal & Derngate as a companion piece to the Royal’s current offering, My Zinc Bed.
A deft directorial hand from Mike Bartlett allows the hidden – and not so hidden – messages in Moore’s uncompromising play to come out almost by osmosis as the performance unfolds. Chatty bloke becomes unwitting social biographer as he recounts a drunken stumble across the capital one night, lashing out (metaphorically speaking) at a huge array of targets along the way.
In the hands of young actor Thomas Morrison, all the power, humour and subtlety is fabulously brought out in a towering performance. Up close and personal – he practically shares his pub table with the audience – there’s nowhere to hide, whether he’s swaggering bullishly about his contempt for his boss or emerging, childlike, as the little lost boy he really is inside.
Morrison carries us with him on his journey, utterly convincing and totally compelling, so that by the time he drains his pint of lager, grabs his coat and mobile and heads out the door, you’re fully expecting to see him again at work next day, rather the worse for wear.
Just don’t invite him round to yours for a drink.
END OF THE RAINBOW
February 9, 2010
Royal Theatre, Northampton, until Saturday, February 20, 2010
JUST when you thought it couldn’t get any better…
Less than a year since a triumphant Alan Ayckbourn season, and just four months on from the huge critical acclaim surrounding the Young America season – including a much-deserved transfer to the National – the Royal & Derngate team have blown all rational measures off the scale.
There are scarcely enough superlatives to lavish upon this sensational piece of theatre. It should be enough to say it’s got awards written all over it, but it merits so much more than that.
Peter Quilter’s drama is an extraordinary rollercoaster ride of emotion, charting the background to the final London concerts of the legendary Judy Garland in January 1969. Within six months she would be dead, and her drug-raddled, drink-fuelled body was wrecked at the age of just 47.
Quilter’s magnificently crafted work weaves together high comedy and exhausting drama almost by turns, with some of Garland’s best-loved songs injecting yet more emotion into an already pumped up evening.
In the hands of veteran director Terry Johnson, this meticulously researched and beautifully structured piece becomes a choreographed dream, with not a foot, a note or a look out of place.
With just four actors to work with, Johnson keeps the balls juggling between belly laughs and breathtaking drama, and each of the four plays a vital part.
Robin Browne doubles up for some small but beautifully played roles, while Stephen Hagan shows maturity beyond his years as Garland’s fiancé Mickey Deans, and Hilton McRae is perfectly judged as her gay Scottish accompanist Anthony, who comes to represent the kind of unconditional love she has spent a lifetime searching for.
But a show as acutely, sharply biographical as this depends to a huge extent on its star, and in Tracie Bennett it is not disappointed. It’s a performance of astonishing bravery, supreme talent and bewildering accuracy, but it’s much more than an impersonation. The voice is uncanny, the gestures spot-on, but the depth of emotion that Bennett invests in what must have been the most confused – and confusing – of superstars is simply inspired.
Supported by a fabulous live on-stage band, and on a stunning hotel room set designed by William Dudley, Bennett’s Judy is a jaw-dropping masterpiece of a performance in a stunning production that raises the bar, even by Royal & Derngate’s increasingly impressive standards.
The show unquestionably belongs in the West End, and if it transfers – as expected – then the national Best Actress awards are a shoo-in.
December 14, 2010
Derngate, Northampton, until Sunday, January 9, 2011
WHEN it comes to entertaining kids at Christmas, you can’t just serve up any old tat and expect them to like it. As the old theatre adage goes, they’re the toughest of audiences.
But children of all ages will be lapping up the traditional fare on offer at Northampton’s Derngate in the shape of Jack and the Beanstalk.
It may not have the glitz and glamour of some of its competitors, but there’s a sincerity and charm at the heart of this show that proves infectious and warming on a cold Christmas night.
It’s all good stuff, from the twinkle and youthful vitality of leading man Ray Quinn to the villainous braggadocio of Gavin Woods’s swaggering Fleshcreep. The Princess (Emma Stephens) is delightful and pretty, Adam Stafford’s Dame Trot is pitched with just the right amount of fruitiness and fun, and Daisy the Cow provides a star turn of truly bovine proportions.
But the real show-stealer comes in the form of Hilary O’Neil’s Fairy Cobblers, whose immense range of impressions and vocal gymnastics makes her every appearance a joy to be savoured. Why she has not become a household name is beyond me.
I have the usual quibbles with a pantomime that steadfastly refuses to feature live music without announcing it clearly in its publicity, and producers Qdos Entertainment must shoulder the opprobrium for this shameful state of affairs, which short-changes the audience of a whole added dimension for what can only be reasons of Scrooge-like miserliness.
But that grumble aside, there’s precious little else in this lively extravaganza to make a critic exclaim: “Bah! Humbug!”
THE LION, THE WITCH AND THE WARDROBE
December 3, 2010
Royal Theatre, Northampton, until Sunday, January 9, 2011
THE alternative festive presentation has become a firm fixture in the Royal and Derngate calendar, offering a more theatrical option for those who taste may not run to the booing and hissing of traditional panto.
But that’s not to say there’s any less enjoyment to be had in the intimate, cosy surroundings of the Royal auditorium and this stage adaptation of the CS Lewis children’s classic The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe.
The sheer scope of the tale, from war-torn London to the battle-scarred plains of Narnia itself, means there’s a massive challenge of scale facing director Dani Parr and her huge team of actors, musicians and supporting community cast. The fact that every location, creature and dramatic event has the power to transport the audience just about anywhere says much for the success of meeting that challenge.
Theresa Heskins’s faithful script and James Atherton’s unmemorable music score may never quite catch the magic, but there’s a whole range of skills, talents and abundant imagination on show to carry it off instead.
The four ‘children’ at the heart of the story are superbly played by Kyle McPhail, Alice O’Connell, Peter McGovern and Hayley Ellenbrook. This utterly believable quartet take you by the hand and lead you into the winter-stricken wonderland through the wardrobe, where their adventures are pacily played out on a versatile if complicated set designed by Jess Curtis.
Georgina White gives us a fine, over-the-top White Witch and there are some delightful animal cameos – particularly Mr and Mrs Beaver (Matthew J Henry and Louise Shuttleworth) – while other cast members also play a plethora of instruments under the capable guidance of musical director Zara Nunn.
It’s endlessly inventive, full of action and enthusiasm, and if the whole doesn’t quite weave the magical spell of the original book there’s no shortage of entertainment value in a highly enjoyable couple of hours or so.
DREAMBOATS AND PETTICOATS
November 22, 2010
Derngate, Northampton, until November 27, 2010, then tour continues
BEING given free rein to plunder the back catalogue of Universal Music must have seemed like a dream come true to writing partnership Laurence Marks and Maurice Gran.
The team behind TV production company Alomo, whose on-screen hits have included Birds of a Feather, Goodnight Sweetheart and The New Statesman, were asked to create the script for a new musical based around the album compilations being issued under the title Dreamboats and Petticoats.
The result, now well into its second year of touring, is much more than a straightforward jukebox musical: this is a proper show with a proper story.
Framed by the dramatic device of an ageing Bobby recalling his youth for the benefit of his granddaughter, the tale follows the teenage Bobby’s life and loves in 1961 Essex. There are jokey pastiches, topical references and – seemingly – hundreds of toe-tapping tunes from the era, which is brilliantly evoked by Sean Cavanagh’s design and Carole Todd’s choreography. The live music, performed by an ultra-talented cast of actor-musicians, is blisteringly good and meshes perfectly with the witty and entertaining book.
Among the huge roll-call of performers, Josh Capper stands out as the young Bobby, with fabulous support from Francesca Jackson as the object of his affection, Sue, and a stunning Wayne Smith as his best mate Ray, but there’s strength and boundless energy throughout the infectiously buoyant cast.
Director Bob Tomson never lets the pace falter and you’re never more than a couple of minutes away from another song, which means the whole thing has something of the feel of a Saturday night gig at the Gaumont. And there’s just no stopping the audience at the first invitation to leap to their feet.
SUNSHINE ON LEITH
November 9, 2010
Derngate, Northampton, until Saturday, November 13, 2010, then tour continues
RARELY have I come across a show more desperate to be loved. From the jaunty spring in the dance captain’s every step to the rousing entreaties to join in the chanting final chorus of I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles), there’s enthusiasm and energy at every turn.
This is The Proclaimers musical and, like the Reid twins who created the songs, it’s quirky, amusing and something of an acquired taste. Like a good malt whisky.
The performances are terrific. Billy Boyd is charming, vocally superb and a vital central focus as Davy, one of the two childhood pals who return to Leith together after leaving the army. Michael Moreland as his foil Ally is gritty and truthful, and their pairing is strongly reminiscent of the Proclaimers themselves. As Davy’s parents, Ann Louise Ross and – understudying magnificently – George Drennan put in a wonderful and poignant double act, while love interests Jo Freer and Zoe Rainey sing and act delightfully.
There’s able support from a large company, too, and a vibrant pit band under musical director Hilary Brooks.
However, there’s a lot missing where the crucial heart of the show should be, and it’s not just the fact that two well-known songs is not enough of a back catalogue on which to build a jukebox musical.
Writer Stephen Greenhorn has created a script around the songs in which there’s simply not enough story. Each episodic scene feels little more than a justification to shoe-horn in an appropriate number: thus one character is made to emigrate to Florida as an excuse for her parents to sing Letter From America.
And for a show that warns in its own dialogue of the dangers of stereotyping, there’s a whole Dundee cake of cardboard cutout Scottishness on display, from the drinking, smoking, fried-breakfast-eating dad who suffers a massive coronary to the anniversary ceilidh that descends into a drunken brawl.
Director James Brining mines some nice moments – the pre-fight ceilidh is touching and powerful, and the pub soccer fans’ rendition of Let’s Get Married is a big production number – but it’s barely enough to carry the show. That job is left to the infectious, catchy songs, and while they’re just about up to it, it’s a musical that is always going to score more highly in Edinburgh or Aberdeen than in the Sassenach south.
THE DUCHESS OF MALFI
October 22, 2010
Royal Theatre, Northampton, until Saturday, October 30, 2010
THROUGH the claustrophobic blackness of Ruth Sutcliffe’s grim, imposing set, glimpses of a giant Caravaggio canvas loom large over the action. It’s a handy metaphor for the whole production: this version of Webster’s bleak tragedy is all about the images.
Director Laurie Sansom has taken the relentless misery of the 1623 text and merged it with the strange, other-worldly music of Webster’s contemporary, the violent and probably insane wife-killer Gesualdo. This combination of unstable talents – not Sansom, you understand – provides the shifting and dangerous backdrop for a performance of equally uncertain elements.
The first thing to say is that it looks magnificent. There’s a consistent vision throughout of decaying decadence in a time of corruption and chaos, and the corresponding decay of the ingenious and complex set works brilliantly.
Equally, the use of five chorus-like madrigal singers on stage to underscore the dramatic action is both vocally impressive and subtly intimidating: who would have thought a glee club could be so threatening?
Among the main players there is more of a mixed bag, but assured performances are offered by the likeable though wronged Antonio (Nick Blood) and the Duchess’s maid Cariola (Claire Dargo). Elsewhere, there is sometimes a struggle to mine the meaning from the poetry – verse-speaking is an endemic problem, in fact – and there is little sense of metre or lyricism as the language is subverted to the bigger picture of the unfolding narrative.
But when that narrative is so imaginatively presented and beautifully, elegantly staged, it’s easier to make allowances for other shortcomings. The audience, certainly, seemed to be convinced.
SPAMALOT
September 27, 2010
Derngate, Northampton, until October 2, 2010, then tour continues
I JUST love this show. As one of those self-confessed anoraks who can recite vast chunks of Life of Brian or the Parrot Sketch with all the original vocal inflections, for me Eric Idle’s musical “rip-off” of Monty Python and the Holy Grail is the realisation of a schoolboy fantasy.
It’s got all the silliness you might expect from the team that invented the French Taunter and the Knights of Ni. It’s also got a first-rate book by Idle that cleverly squeezes in other bits of Python to the basic framework of the Holy Grail movie, while adding its own fantastically satirical humour about the musical genre itself.
Plus there are plenty of wonderful songs and music from John du Prez, Idle’s writing partner, who helps to create what is unquestionably a proper musical from the bits of outrageous comedy the Pythons left lying about.
The down side to knowing it inside out and backwards is that when new performers come in and put their own stamp on it, somehow it doesn’t feel quite right. That’s not to say the show doesn’t stand up entirely in its own right – it undoubtedly does, with bells on – but there is just a bit of a nagging voice murmuring quietly in one’s ear: That’s not how John Cleese did it…
That said, this touring production, directed by Christopher Luscombe, brings the house down. Python fans in the audience chuckle knowingly from start to finish, while anyone who’s lived on another planet for the past 40 years and therefore might not actually know every line can find endless sources of belly-laugh gags, both verbal and visual.
It’s become customary with Spamalot to parachute in star names – as the show self-referentially parodies – in the roles of King Arthur and the Lady of the Lake. In Northampton, we get stand-up comedian Marcus Brigstocke, who battles manfully if a little uncomfortably with the singing and dancing he’s required to do, and Emmerdale’s Hayley Tamaddon, whose over-the-top diva gets some of the biggest laughs.
But the stand-out performance comes from one-time EastEnder Todd Carty as Arthur’s downtrodden servant Patsy, banging his coconuts together for horses’ hooves and giving a fine rendition of the infectiously catchy Always Look on the Bright Side of Life. You’re whistling already, aren’t you?
It’s colourful in a pantomime kind of way and guaranteed to send you home with a smile and a whistle. And what more could you ask of a musical?
THE TALENTED MR RIPLEY
September 24, 2010
Royal Theatre, Northampton, until Saturday, October 9, 2010
IDENTITY theft is a hot topic in the 21st Century world of electronic data and internet fraud. But it provides the central theme for Patricia Highsmith’s dark novel about a twisted young man who resorts to murder.
I’m surely not giving anything away here, since film versions with Matt Damon and John Malkovich have made the story – and the character of Ripley – almost iconic. And here lies one of the problems facing playwright Phyllis Nagy with her adaptation: how do you transfer an essentially episodic, filmic narrative to the stage?
Her answer, reinforced by director Raz Shaw, is to use a number of stylistic devices, including having Ripley speak directly to the audience, overlapping scenes and cutting between conversations, and employing minimal sets and props.
The result is a fascinating mixed bag and extremely hard to review. There are moments of real tension and passages of tiresome exposition. There are characters with depth and dimension and others of cartoon simplicity.
At the heart of it is Tom Ripley himself, and here lies another problem. Ripley undergoes no emotional journey, his character is irredeemably unsympathetic and his range extends only between repressed anger and violent fury. The fact that Kyle Soller is utterly watchable says much, much more about this actor’s intelligent and dangerous performance than it does about the script he’s given to work with.
Soller is never off-stage throughout three long hours, even conducting his costume changes in full view and mid-speech. It’s something of a tour de force and a truly impressive lynchpin at the centre of the production.
Sam Heughan as the object of his obsession makes the best of a limp role, while Michelle Ryan – whose Hollywood credentials have been much exploited in the marketing – also puts in a couple of strong cameos, giving Soller plenty to play off.
It has already been suggested that this is a Marmite production – you’ll either love it or hate it – but I would modify that slightly. If the overall impression is of a rather tricksy, gimmicky staging of a story with limited dimensions, the performances themselves offer a great deal to intrigue and entertain.
CHESS THE MUSICAL
September 14, 2010
Derngate, Northampton, until Saturday, September 18, 2010, then touring
THERE’S an essential paradox at the heart of Chess: how do you make a big, impressive show out of a story about a little game and the claustrophobic, intimate relationships between its players?
Benny Andersson and Bjorn Ulvaeus, the musical geniuses behind ABBA, teamed up with lyricist Tim Rice in 1986 to have a damn good go. Their resulting score is itself a paradox – sometimes soaringly extravagant, occasionally sublime, often dense and confusing.
Now director Craig Revel Horwood – best known as a panellist on the BBC’s Strictly Come Dancing – is taking a new production out on the road, working with long-time musical collaborator Sarah Travis. Between them, the pair have successfully used the technique of actor-musicians to stage versions of Sweeney Todd and Mack and Mabel, among others.
Unfortunately, the technique falls down with this particular show. Around half-a-dozen or so central characters, a sizeable chorus of fabulously dressed chess ‘pieces’ double up as the on-stage orchestra, commenting on and driving the action that unfolds on a central checkerboard area.
The designs (Christopher Woods) are extraordinary, the visual effect dramatic and powerful. But Horwood’s focus on how the thing looks has the side-effect of diminishing any drama or emotion to be found in the playing. And having a Russian grandmaster tinkle out a musical counterpoint on a glockenspiel is just faintly ridiculous.
There are also impossibly huge demands made of the performers. While some of the singing voices on stage are truly terrific, both in quality and range, there’s a trade-off against the acting, which can be patchy. Exceptions to this are Shona White, a real musical star who somehow makes sense of the difficult and dysfunctional character Florence, and James Graeme and Steve Varnom, both relishing their second-string roles with cameos of style as well as substance.
There are sound problems too, and when so much of the narrative is reliant on Rice’s clever and complex lyrics, it’s a major failing not to be able to hear them properly.
The production is epic, overblown and slightly bewildering. There’s no denying the money and effort spent on putting it all on stage. But in the end, it’s full of sound and fury while, for me, it signified nothing very much.
TELL ME ON A SUNDAY
September 3, 2010
Royal Theatre, Northampton, until Saturday, September 4, 2010, then touring
FOR a piece with such a complicated history, the producers of Tell Me On A Sunday have made a pretty good job of making it hang together.
Originally written as a one-hour TV show for Marti Webb, this Andrew Lloyd Webber composition has been paired with a ballet to make Song and Dance, extended to showcase the talents of Denise van Outen, and now reworked again for Scouse songstress Claire Sweeney on a tour kicking off in Northampton’s bijou Royal Theatre.
Certainly, the venue does exactly the right job of creating an intimate, almost conversational atmosphere, and Janet Bird’s set design is all moody blues and shocking pinks. The visual tone echoes the split personality of the one and only character, the English girl in New York, whose lurch from one love affair to another straddles the emotions from girlish delight to womanly yearning and soul-searching.
Directed securely by Tamara Harvey, Sweeney herself proves a fine actress and engages all these emotions with a likeable, chirpy personality defying all the heartaches to emerge a strong, slightly more independent woman.
And if Lloyd Webber gives her impossibly wide-ranging notes to match the emotions in his under-powered, off-the-shelf score, then it’s tough to blame the star if she struggles occasionally to reach the extremities of the vocal gymnastics.
It’s a slight piece and the pared-down, five-piece, on-stage band under musical director Jae Alexander does well to create as much texture and nuance as it can, but the show never quite has the same glint in the eye as its star does.
The production looks stylish, Sweeney is charming and charismatic and the Royal has sold out its brief run – all big pluses. But anyone expecting a grand Lloyd Webber barnstormer is likely to come away just a little bit disappointed.
TOWN
June 28, 2010
Royal Theatre, Northampton, until Saturday, July 3, 2010
LET’S get the whole Northampton thing out of the way first – and as a native, I feel somewhat qualified to comment. This is not a play about Northampton. Yes, it includes a few references to place names – although I can’t imagine any resident of Jimmy’s End actually calling it “St James” – and the action supposedly takes place in different parts of the town.
But you could just as easily substitute any suburb of Nottingham or Bristol or Newcastle and the drama would remain unchanged.
So, aside from this gripe about a play at the heart of the Royal and Derngate’s Northampton season not really being about the town at all, what is it about?
Playwright DC Moore, whose recent one-man short piece Honest was brutal and funny in the Mailcoach pub earlier this year, has come up with another work of arresting frankness. And what it’s really about is disaffected youth and mental illness.
John (a superbly bewildered Mark Rice-Oxley) has walked back to his parents’ Northampton home after quitting his job in London. The walk echoes that of the 18th century poet John Clare, who returned to the town after escaping an asylum in Epping Forest, and thus introduces the possibility that today’s John is also having some kind of mental breakdown.
He finds little solace with his dysfunctional parents and manages to alienate his former schoolfriend, Anna, by falling in with Mary, a 17-year-old tearaway and fellow social outcast.
There are some amusing moments and some truly empathetic performances – Fred Pearson judges the father’s mix of casual racism and unconditional love just right, while Joanna Horton’s sad Anna, who lives in a bedsit and watches old Star Trek episodes, neatly transmutes into the voice of reason in a poignant and touching performance.
It’s all played out on the stage of the Royal, which has been converted into a studio theatre for the occasion. With the auditorium closed off, two banks of seats have been erected either side of a traverse performance area running the width of the stage, which helps to accentuate the air of disjointed awkwardness. Director Esther Richardson also does a fine job in bringing to life the lost and lonely nature of the protagonist with her intelligent staging, although surely Dawn Allsopp’s set design should be more warm Northamptonshire sandstone than slate-grey slabs?
In the end, it’s all pretty grey and grim. If it purports to show today’s youth, that’s depressing. If it purports to show today’s Northampton, ditto with bells on. But full marks to the Royal and Derngate for the bold initiative, even if the results don’t quite come off.
A FAMILY GUIDE TO THE ORCHESTRA
June 13, 2010
Derngate, Northampton
WHAT a partnership it is between the Royal & Derngate and the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra. The band is the resident orchestra for R&D’s annual season of concerts, and this one-off afternoon performance featured the added draw of TV favourite Martin Clunes as its narrator.
Intended to introduce orchestral work to younger people, the programme was beautifully designed, and Clunes added just the right amount of wit and warmth to the stunning playing of the musicians under guest conductor Barry Wordsworth.
Opening with Elgar’s Cockaigne Concert Overture, the performance invited novices and old hands alike to learn about and appreciate the different sections within a symphony orchestra.
Among the classics specifically designed for such a purpose were Prokofiev’s delightful Peter and the Wolf, which uses a variety of instruments to evoke animals through the narrated folk story, and Britten’s Young Person’s Guide to the Orchestra, a stunning reworking of a theme by Purcell into a fabulous tour through the sections, with variations and counterpoint building to a breathtaking finale.
But alongside the seasoned classics were lesser-known works such as the charming tale of Tubby the Tuba, whose desperate search for a tune of his own leads him to a starring role in the orchestra.
Rounding off each half of the programme were two movie scores that were as well known to a 21st century youngster as any piece of classical music: the themes from Harry Potter and Star Wars, both by the unsurpassed film composer John Williams.
As a way to send the audience home humming memorable tunes performed by an orchestra at the top of its game, this was intelligent planning, and Wordsworth and his huge ensemble deserved every bit of the rapturous reception they received from a crowd of vast age range.
STOP MESSING ABOUT
April 15, 2010
Derngate, Northampton, until Saturday, April 17, 2010, then tour continues
IT must have been something of an irritation to Kenneth Williams that he was never quite in the same stratosphere of stardom as some of his comedic contemporaries.
Whether it was down to his unique vocal characterisations, his Carry On niche or his overt homosexuality, somehow his star never seemed to shine quite as brightly as, say, Frankie Howerd or Morecambe and Wise.
Maybe that’s why it took until 1970 for the BBC to give him his own radio series, named after his most memorable catchphrase, instead of playing second fiddle to Kenneth Horne or Tony Hancock.
Written by comedy veterans Johnnie Mortimer and Brian Cooke – the partnership behind such TV successes as Man About the House and Father Dear Father – the show also included Carry On’s Joan Sims and longtime Williams collaborator Hugh Paddick.
Now, some of the best of those radio scripts have been adapted into a stage show featuring the extraordinary impersonation of Robin Sebastian, who captures the mannerisms, rhythms and fluctuations of the Williams voice with uncanny accuracy.
The show has its limitations. On a set designed to look like a 1970 BBC radio studio, the four performers are stuck primarily with standing behind microphones, scripts in hand, in supposed replication of the original recording sessions. This makes for a highly static theatre production and puts rather too much emphasis on Sebastian, who is forced to resort to increasingly desperate asides and mugging to keep things moving.
There are also questions to be asked about the script itself: are these really the best 90 minutes from the entire radio series? If so, what on earth must they have left out?
But Sebastian is ably supported by India Fisher as an ebullient Sims and Nigel Harrison as an amiable Paddick, with Charles Armstrong putting in a sterling effort as the put-upon BBC announcer Douglas Smith.
As you might expect, double entendre is the order of the day, and some of the gags must have been claiming their pensions even in 1970, but it’s all harmless enough stuff, and there are plenty of laughs to be found among the oohs and aahs and ‘Oh Matron!’
And if you just close your eyes and listen to that flamboyant, fabulous voice, you could almost believe Kenneth Williams was in the theatre with you.
THE WOMAN IN BLACK
April 6, 2010
Royal Theatre, Northampton, until Saturday, April 10, 2010, then tour continues
IF there’s a more perfect setting for a chilling ghost story than the haunted Victorian auditorium of Northampton’s Royal Theatre, I defy anyone to name it.
But the setting is only half the story in this stage adaptation of Susan Hill’s popular novel, worked by playwright Stephen Mallatratt into a thrilling piece of theatre that has gripped audiences in London and on tour for almost a quarter of a century.
It’s all about atmosphere. Lighting, sound, props, stage skulduggery – they all combine to wonderful effect, building tension and setting up spine-tingling moments of real excitement and drama.
At heart, the tale reveals the unfolding history of the mysterious woman in black, seen occasionally in the swirling sea mists around Eel Marsh House, a vast pile of a place accessible only by a tidal causeway.
Ingeniously, Mallatratt frames this with a plot in which the main protagonist, Arthur Kipps, is seeking the help of a professional actor many years later to retell the ‘true’ story in the hope of exorcising his demons.
This allows all the tricks and devices of the theatre to be employed to devastating effect as the Actor rehearses the story with Kipps through to its chilling conclusion.
Along the way there are twists and turns, shocks and surprises and even things that go bump in the night, and director Robin Herford keeps the emotions simmering nicely in his steady pacing and imaginative staging.
Robert Demeger as Kipps and Peter Bramhill as the Actor work together terrifically, as well they might in the middle of a long national tour, and exploit all the elements of script and staging to optimum effect, with quite a few laughs thrown in for light relief.
It’s a well-made, carefully crafted production which delivers its coups de theatre with a sure touch, making them all the more effective. While it may not be for those of a nervous disposition, it’s certainly a treat for fans of the genre – if there are any left after all this time who still haven’t seen it.
SONDHEIM 80th BIRTHDAY CONCERT
April 4, 2010
Derngate, Northampton
TAKE the world’s leading writer of musicals, give his lush scores to one of the UK’s top orchestras and throw in three of the country’s best exponents of musical theatre – it’s a recipe for a storming success.
And that’s just what Royal & Derngate offered with this one-off concert, part of the Royal Philharmonic’s orchestral season as the resident band at the venue.
To celebrate Stephen Sondheim’s 80th birthday, the RPO under vibrant music director David Firman paraded a succession of fabulous show tunes from his extensive, eclectic back catalogue.
To front the occasion, West End legend Maria Friedman led a trio of stunning singers giving voice to Sondheim’s witty and wonderful lyrics. Graham Bickley and Daniel Evans – both highly experienced musical theatre stars in their own right – provided the perfect foil for Friedman with intelligent, emotional renderings of the songs, and their ensemble work, especially for a concert performance, was stunningly tight and impressive.
Friedman herself arrived on stage to announce that she had flown to Paris for an audience with the maestro himself to gain permission to perform a specially edited, 45-minute version of Merrily We Roll Along. The three of them then proceeded to shine with a potted masterclass in Sondheim performance, opening out later in the programme to include numbers from shows including Sweeney Todd, Follies and A Little Night Music.
From the heartrending pathos of Send In The Clowns to the dazzling dexterity of the patter song Getting Married, every number was a beautifully crafted example of how Sondheim combines music and lyrics to devastating theatrical effect, and the extraordinary individual virtuosity of the three singers paid full tribute to the composer’s skills.
The multi-talented Evans – now also artistic director of Sheffield’s Crucible Theatre – revealed a remarkable vocal instrument, particularly in the higher register, while Bickley’s baritone was full of warmth and charm. Friedman, meanwhile, held the whole thing together with a classy display of leading lady pizzazz, and the three of them were clearly having a whale of a time, backed by the rich, expansive sounds of the RPO in full flow.
Sondheim himself, over in Paris, must have been feeling a little twinge of pride at this full-bodied, eye-twinkling tribute.
THREE SISTERS
March 16, 2010
Royal Theatre, Northampton, until Saturday, March 20, 2010, then tour continues
IT’S sometimes claimed that you can’t take liberties with Chekhov the way you can with Shakespeare. The dismal pre-Revolutionary Russian is too specific in his portrayals of a decaying middle class falling apart in their country houses.
This production is here to render all that complete nonsense.
The entire depth and width of the Royal stage are laid bare, complete with fully visible lighting rigs, sound desks and stage managers, then crammed with furniture, props and assorted stuff at the start of Act One, inside the house of the titular three sisters.
By the end of the play, everything’s been literally stripped away to leave a bare black space with just a swing to evoke the estate’s garden.
The use of space, transparency and physical things is just part of the inventive, mind-shifting approach of this co-production by the Lyric, Hammersmith, and theatre company Filter, which is nearing the end of its national tour.
Other trademarks include the imaginative and evocative use of sound, with microphones strategically placed to capture whispered exchanges or offstage conversations. One particular highlight is the breathtaking boiling of a kettle. And that’s a sentence you don’t expect to read too often.
Among the performances, Poppy Miller, Romola Garai and Clare Dunne are outstanding as the sisters, each carving out a living variant of the genetic roots that bind them together and all ranging confidently in emotional intensity.
Among the many hangers-on circulating around the family, Jonathan Broadbent offers a nicely drawn suitor, Paul Brennen a meticulous schoolmaster and John Lightbody an appropriately dashing military type with buckles to swash.
Occasionally, the delivery of Christopher Hampton’s fine translation feels a little rushed for a company so dedicated to the lyricism of the language, but the overall spectacle and the underlying disintegration are acutely portrayed, giving a fascinating modern twist on a century-old classic.
MY ZINC BED
March 5, 2010
Royal Theatre, Northampton, until Saturday, March 13, 2010
INTELLIGENT, thoughtful theatre that provokes any questioning of the status quo is often belittled as unfashionable or subversive.
There are those who would argue that this is, in fact, the very job of the playwright.
Artistic director Laurie Sansom has resurrected a play from 2000 by David Hare which accomplishes exactly that with a tough, clearly-defined analysis of the role of Alcoholics Anonymous. Benign force for good or sinister cult, Hare seems to be asking.
And yet the play, which presents multi-millionaire Victor Quinn in direct opposition to young AA apologist Paul Peplow, seems unequivocal in its answers: by the end, Quinn is dead and Peplow is back in the AA fold.
It’s even debatable whether the play is actually about alcohol at all. For my money, it’s as much a metaphor for the destructive power of love – and the struggle with addiction to it – as anything else.
Under Sansom’s direction, Quinn’s world – like his younger wife Elsa – is starkly luxurious, seductively cold, and Jess Curtis’s set design, ingeniously lit by Anna Watson, compounds the detachment with which we are invited to see Peplow and his view of the world.
As the tyrannical Quinn, Robert Gwilym errs occasionally toward the bombastic, but there’s no denying his presence and authority, whether he’s actually on stage or not.
Leanne Best is slippery and sly as the manipulative Elsa, but it’s the performance of Jamie Parker as the disintegrating Peplow that really carries the piece. Ranging confidently across the emotional spectrum, he’s always entirely believable and extremely engaging as the young poet-turned-web-copywriter whose defeat of his internal demons is systematically undermined by both his boss Quinn and his illicit lover Elsa. His torment, his collapse of will and his self-awareness of his own fallibility are brilliantly evoked in a performance of boldness and maturity.
It’s not for the faint-hearted, but it’s a production of raw power and deep, probing emotion.
HONEST
March 3, 2010
The Mailcoach, Northampton, until Saturday, March 13, 2010
ON the face of it, Honest is 45 minutes of a foul-mouthed, misanthropic bloke raging semi-incoherently at his trapped pub audience about the unfairness of life.
His brother lives in a huge South London mansion after marrying into money, his boss earns a packet doing a rubbish job and his life’s a mess as he’s supposedly blown about by the cruel whims of fate.
All of this is playwright DC Moore’s starting point for a subtle, biting satire on the state of the nation. Anything’s in the firing line, from corporate greed to recreational drug-taking, and the scattergun approach of the writing is as devastating as a machine gun.
It’s cleverly done, too, in a corner of the Mailcoach pub, produced by the neighbouring Royal & Derngate as a companion piece to the Royal’s current offering, My Zinc Bed.
A deft directorial hand from Mike Bartlett allows the hidden – and not so hidden – messages in Moore’s uncompromising play to come out almost by osmosis as the performance unfolds. Chatty bloke becomes unwitting social biographer as he recounts a drunken stumble across the capital one night, lashing out (metaphorically speaking) at a huge array of targets along the way.
In the hands of young actor Thomas Morrison, all the power, humour and subtlety is fabulously brought out in a towering performance. Up close and personal – he practically shares his pub table with the audience – there’s nowhere to hide, whether he’s swaggering bullishly about his contempt for his boss or emerging, childlike, as the little lost boy he really is inside.
Morrison carries us with him on his journey, utterly convincing and totally compelling, so that by the time he drains his pint of lager, grabs his coat and mobile and heads out the door, you’re fully expecting to see him again at work next day, rather the worse for wear.
Just don’t invite him round to yours for a drink.
END OF THE RAINBOW
February 9, 2010
Royal Theatre, Northampton, until Saturday, February 20, 2010
JUST when you thought it couldn’t get any better…
Less than a year since a triumphant Alan Ayckbourn season, and just four months on from the huge critical acclaim surrounding the Young America season – including a much-deserved transfer to the National – the Royal & Derngate team have blown all rational measures off the scale.
There are scarcely enough superlatives to lavish upon this sensational piece of theatre. It should be enough to say it’s got awards written all over it, but it merits so much more than that.
Peter Quilter’s drama is an extraordinary rollercoaster ride of emotion, charting the background to the final London concerts of the legendary Judy Garland in January 1969. Within six months she would be dead, and her drug-raddled, drink-fuelled body was wrecked at the age of just 47.
Quilter’s magnificently crafted work weaves together high comedy and exhausting drama almost by turns, with some of Garland’s best-loved songs injecting yet more emotion into an already pumped up evening.
In the hands of veteran director Terry Johnson, this meticulously researched and beautifully structured piece becomes a choreographed dream, with not a foot, a note or a look out of place.
With just four actors to work with, Johnson keeps the balls juggling between belly laughs and breathtaking drama, and each of the four plays a vital part.
Robin Browne doubles up for some small but beautifully played roles, while Stephen Hagan shows maturity beyond his years as Garland’s fiancé Mickey Deans, and Hilton McRae is perfectly judged as her gay Scottish accompanist Anthony, who comes to represent the kind of unconditional love she has spent a lifetime searching for.
But a show as acutely, sharply biographical as this depends to a huge extent on its star, and in Tracie Bennett it is not disappointed. It’s a performance of astonishing bravery, supreme talent and bewildering accuracy, but it’s much more than an impersonation. The voice is uncanny, the gestures spot-on, but the depth of emotion that Bennett invests in what must have been the most confused – and confusing – of superstars is simply inspired.
Supported by a fabulous live on-stage band, and on a stunning hotel room set designed by William Dudley, Bennett’s Judy is a jaw-dropping masterpiece of a performance in a stunning production that raises the bar, even by Royal & Derngate’s increasingly impressive standards.
The show unquestionably belongs in the West End, and if it transfers – as expected – then the national Best Actress awards are a shoo-in.
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