SLEEPING BEAUTY
* * * *
December 10, 2013
Derngate, Northampton, until Sunday, January 5, 2014
LINDA Lusardi and her hubby Sam Kane were last seen on the Derngate panto stage in 2009. Now they’re back in Sleeping Beauty, with Kane also performing directorial duties and Lusardi in fine wicked witch form as the evil Carabosse.
It’s a show that sparkles – quite literally, thanks to an expensive-looking set – and smartly mixes established pop tunes with some appealing original songs from Olly Ashmore. Jon Conway’s script, too, has more than a dash of originality about, avoiding too heavy a reliance on hoary old panto gags and bringing instead some fresh, lively humour to the fairytale.
Andy Jones works well alongside Kane to provide an enjoyable comic double-act of royal sidekicks, while Shinead Byrne in the title role and Alex Jordan-Mills as Prince William make a fine-voiced pair of young lovers. Kim Wall, meanwhile, in his debut as a panto dame, looks born to the role of Nurse Dolly, relishing his outrageous frocks and wigs and infusing the character with a healthy dose of silliness.
Magician Phil Hitchcock has a glint in his eye and a talent for impressive illusions which he conjures up in the role of the King, and there are some truly spectacular 3D effects which have the entire audience gasping or screaming, depending on age. In fact, some of the creepy-crawlies that come leaping from the stage are so remarkably lifelike and terrifying that little ones of a nervous disposition should certainly be warned in advance.
There’s the usual gripe about pre-recorded music instead of a much-needed live band, and some of the sound mixing leaves it quite hard to hear things clearly at times, but this is a genuinely entertaining, knockabout Christmas panto with all the ingredients you could wish for, from a very messy cooking scene to the drenching of the audience with water.
And a happy new year to you too…
THE WIND IN THE WILLOWS
* * * * *
November 29, 2013
Royal Theatre, Northampton, until Sunday, January 5, 2014
SPARE a thought for Jack Edwards. He’s the actor cast as Toad of Toad Hall in the Royal Theatre’s magical new Christmas show The Wind in the Willows and, as such, he should be centre stage at the end of the opening night, welcoming the standing ovation the production rightly attracts.
Instead, he’s watching from the stalls, nursing an injury after falling downstairs with an armful of washing. In his place, winning those plaudits, stands Gavin Spokes, a spectacularly brave replacement drafted in to the show with just two days’ notice.
Learning the lines, songs and blocking in such a short timespan would be challenging in even the simplest of roles. As Toad, in a production directed by Gary Sefton, who has cornered the market in frenetic, energetic, relentless shows at the Royal, it’s nothing short of extraordinary.
Spokes looks like he was born for the part – sorry, Jack – and fits seamlessly into the well-drilled company. Unsurprisingly, there’s the odd stumble or mishap, such as being hit in the face by a falling prop, but it’s all handled with a healthy sense of fun and audience involvement. If anything, the adventure of the actor’s rollercoaster journey adds to the heightened joy of the evening.
Sefton, as always, drives his cast incredibly hard. Katy Phipps and Christopher Harper are beautifully paired as Mole and Ratty, whose boating trip down the river kicks off a narrative which takes in Toad’s foolish fads, Badger’s wintry home and a stunning courtroom sequence that brings the house down for the interval.
Sion Lloyd is a wonderfully gruff Badger, while Stuart Angell puts in hilarious turns as Albert the horse and the Chief Weasel, accompanied by a troupe of sure-footed youngsters. Jennie Dale and Cherelle Skeete complete the pro line-up, adding an array of colourful characters that are both memorable and delightful.
On a highly inventive set from designer Sara Perks, and accompanied by songs from Neil Brand, Patrick Sandford’s faithful adaptation trundles merrily from one enjoyable episode to another, bringing the audience happily along for the breathless, blissful ride.
Jack Edwards will surely be tooting his horn with impatience to get back on this particular road. Poop-poop!
MANSFIELD PARK
* * *
October 28, 2013
Royal Theatre, Northampton, until Saturday November 2, 2013, then tour continues
IF you’re adapting Jane Austen for television or film, you’ve got the luxury of fairly substantial budgets for sets, costumes and location shooting. In the theatre, on a tight touring schedule, the limitations are much more restrictive.
The Theatre Royal, Bury St Edmunds, astutely decides to make a virtue out of necessity for this new outing of its 2012 production and opts for a simple but versatile set (Kit Surrey), concentrating instead on making the complex relationships as clear and intelligible as possible.
In Tim Luscombe’s pacy adaptation, this means the story fairly rips along, skipping years here and there in the blink of an eye or the turn of a newspaper page. Director Colin Blumenau always makes sure the audience are keeping up with these rapid changes, and the cast of eight are impeccable with their different characters in multiple roles.
The women fare particularly well – as is often the case in Austen – and notable performances come from Laura Doddington as the unreliable socialite Mary Crawford and Julie Teal as an especially poisonous Aunt Norris. But the tone and atmosphere of the piece are well maintained across the company, serving their author and story in a solid, enjoyable piece of Regency social fluffery.
CATS
* * * * *
September 30, 2013
Derngate, Northampton, until Saturday, October 5, 2013, then tour continues
IT’S more than thirty years since those iconic eyes first stared out of a poster in London’s West End, and more than ten since they last did, but Cats remains one of the most successful musicals of all time. Now touring again under the production banner of David Ian, Andrew Lloyd Webber’s most radical show looks as lively and inventive as it ever did.
Most people thought he was mad when he announced back in 1980 that he planned a musical version of TS Eliot’s children’s verse favourite, Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats. But with Cameron Mackintosh behind him and director Trevor Nunn at the helm, Lloyd Webber carved out a show that was hugely creative, combining song, dance and visual spectacle in a way that had never been done before.
The original was performed in a gutted theatre, rebuilt in the round specially for the purpose. The outsize rubbish dump in which the action plays out may now be a more traditional end-on stage, but John Napier’s extraordinary design still works brilliantly.
Coupled with Gillian Lynne’s meticulous feline choreography and a vast cast of multi-talented performers, the overall effect is as beguiling and impressive as ever. The footwork is exemplary, the vocals terrific and the magic of the make-up and costume complete. Plus there’s a fabulous live band under musical director Adrian Kirk.
Standout moments in a production full of showcase performances come from Gus the Theatre Cat (Paul F Monaghan) and Jellylorum (Clare Rickard) as they relive the old trouper’s finest moments on the boards, and from Skimbleshanks the Railway Cat (Ross Finnie), whose big number is wonderfully staged and perfectly executed.
And then there’s Memory, the climactic song performed by the rejected Grizabella (Sophia Ragavelas), which brings tears to the eyes and a lump to the throat.
If you’ve seen it before, you’ll know this is a vibrant production of a stunning show. If you haven’t – what on earth are you waiting for?
TO SIR, WITH LOVE
* * * *
September 10, 2013
Royal Theatre, Northampton, until Saturday, September 28, 2013, then touring
THE autobiographical tale of black teacher Ricky Braithwaite striking up a unique relationship with pupils in an East End school in the bleak post-war years was made into a classic film in the 1960s starring Sidney Poitier.
That movie could have cast a long shadow over this new stage adaptation by East Is East writer Ayub Khan Din, but sensibly he went back to the original source material to find his inspiration in a wide variety of themes. Yes, appalling racism is there, but so too is a thoughtful critique of teaching methods, observations on poverty and the class divide, and an intriguing examination of the social mores of the time. Oh, and quite a few laughs too.
What’s perhaps most interesting is the way so many of these themes still resonate today. The character of the headmaster Florian, in particular, could have been parachuted in from any of the last five or six decades; a modernising, radical educator with fresh and liberating ideas about how to treat young adults in a school setting.
Some of the arguments sound a little stilted and formal – although this may have something to do with the clipped, stylised period delivery – and some lengthy scenes feel static and restricted, but the overall effect is engaging and thought-provoking.
Matthew Kelly’s Florian is beautifully played, a well-judged mixture of articulate enthusiasm and solid authority. Ansu Kabia is hampered by a sling on his left arm following last-minute surgery days before opening, and his Ricky also feels slightly constrained, as his movements and direct involvement in the action have clearly been.
There’s good support among the teaching staff from Nicola Reynolds’s chummy realist Clinty and Paul Kemp’s hideous Weston, who is finally won over from his dinosaur attitudes by Ricky’s dogged persistence in the face of the odds.
But the real stars are the outstanding ensemble of ‘children’ – four professional actors supplemented by eight community youngsters – who bring vigour, energy, dancing and a fair bit of scene-shifting to the production. Their constant presence, whether active or not, reminds us throughout that education, regardless of the vogue theories, is actually all about them.
Perhaps the biggest emotional punch of the night came after the curtain call, when Kelly announced that the book’s author ER Braithwaite – now 101 and living in New York – was in the house. He duly stepped up on stage and took a bow, to a standing ovation from the audience.
This adaptation, going on tour after its Northampton run, is a timely reminder of the responsibilities and duties we have to successive generations, as Florian puts it, “class by class, year on year”.
MIDNIGHT TANGO
* * * *
July 8, 2013
Derngate, Northampton, until Saturday, July 13, 2013
FANS of Vincent and Flavia from television’s Strictly Come Dancing cannot fail to be delighted by this evening of flashing feet, Latin lovers and tango theatricality.
You might imagine it would be hard to make a single dance stretch across an entire performance without it becoming repetitive, but director Karen Bruce – who worked with the pair on Strictly – pulls it off with the aid of some stunning choreography courtesy of the leading pair, a dramatic and evocative set (Morgan Large) and some nice cameo touches in a series of sub-plots.
Plots? Well, yes. This is not simply a succession of routines, it’s a kind of story told in dance, loosely hung around the competing machismos of Vincent and a would-be love rival, Diomar Giraldo, as they tussle, sometimes literally, for the affections of Flavia in a tango bar in Buenos Aires.
Woven among the fiery dance steps are little comedy touches, particularly from Tricia Deighton and Anthony Renshaw as the bar owners, whose own small love story plays out in the background before getting a wonderfully poignant moment of their own in the spotlight.
The fourteen-strong company are a whirlwind of skirts, steps and sharp suits, sometimes more tightly drilled than others, and there’s a stunningly authentic five-piece band on stage to keep the musical momentum rolling along.
But there’s no doubting the stars of the show and from their first appearances, cheered wildly by an enthusiastic audience, Vincent Simone and Flavia Cacace are in command, not just of the stage but of our attention.
I confess I am no dance expert but the choreography is intricate and impressive, even to the untutored eye. Vincent is majestic and powerful, Flavia sinuous and athletic, and the heat of the Argentinian night is almost palpable in the sultry story they unfold.
DANCING AT LUGHNASA
* * *
May 28, 2013
Royal Theatre, Northampton, until Saturday, June 15, 2013
BRIAN Friel’s acclaimed play, first seen in 1990, is a curious piece. Set in Ireland in 1936, and framed by a flashback narrative from the then seven-year-old boy as a grown-up, it’s firmly fixed in a definite time and place. And while theoretically its themes of family, secrets and the decline of a rural idyll should carry beyond the Irish borders, much of the idiom and style of the play is rooted unequivocally in its location and period.
This makes it difficult for the cast of eight to bring much in the way of contemporary resonance to the piece, and leaves it struggling to be anything more than an anachronistic, rather dated theatrical curiosity.
Under Richard Beecham’s direction, the rich language and imagery of Friel’s script is certainly to the fore, aided by some native casting and an evocative – if surprisingly restrictive – naturalistic set by Naomi Dawson.
The story of five sisters sharing a home in a remote village has shades of Chekhov about it, and such action as there is amounts to some Irish jigging and lots of knitting. The pace is deliberately slow, the unfolding sadness measured and contained – which is fine, except that the audience has to work hard to engage or get caught up in any real notion of drama.
The actors are consistently strong, with an especially touching performance from Zoe Rainey as Christina, the sister who is mother to the young boy. Jon Nicholls’s subtle but effective music and Lee Curran’s gentle lighting also add to the melancholia, and there’s a palpable, rather suffocating, sense of atmosphere.
The production is handsome and elegantly played, but it’s an odd choice of play and may prove a tough sell to Northampton audiences.
BIRDSONG
* * *
May 13, 2013
Royal Theatre, Northampton, until Saturday, May 18, 2013, then tour continues
ADAPTING a novel for the stage can be a notoriously tricky business. When the novel concerned is a much-loved modern favourite – such as Sebastian Faulks’s Birdsong, a love story set against the backdrop of the First World War – it’s doubly difficult.
In the programme notes, Faulks himself even expresses his doubts at the attempt, asking: “Why try to make a painting from a sculpture?” To which the adapter, Rachel Wagstaff, replies that both painting and sculpture have a place.
In fact, this is her second go at an adaptation, the first having run in London in 2010. Since then, she’s restructured the piece, positioning it firmly within the War, with the bittersweet love story told in flashbacks. This has the unfortunate effect of making her male protagonist, Stephen, already angry, twisted and literally shell-shocked when we first encounter him, and he never recovers from being instantly distanced from the audience’s sympathy. He’s irredeemably unpleasant and his subsequent woes therefore fail to engage or evoke the kind of emotion that Faulks’s story depends on.
This major flaw undermines the whole piece and as a direct consequence, the love story isn’t sufficiently moving and I was never drawn in to what could have been an intense and highly charged narrative. As for the trenches scenes, they are simply bleak – and have been better done elsewhere, such as in the hugely poignant Blackadder Goes Forth.
The cast of twelve work extremely hard, covering a vast range of accents, characters and locations, and producers The Original Theatre Company deserve credit for touring such a large-scale show with impressive set design (Victoria Spearing) and complex staging.
There are some nice touches, particularly with the use of hymns and songs to underscore parts of the action, but running at the best part of three hours – even with elements of the tale rushed through or skipped over – this is heavy going. Ultimately director Alastair Whatley must carry the can for not wielding a harsher editing knife and for failing to find the real emotional punch in a story with such extraordinary potential.
BIRDS OF A FEATHER
* * *
April 30, 2013
Derngate, Northampton, until Saturday, May 4, 2013, then tour continues
I’D like to formally announce right here that I shall be making no snide, sarky comments about old birds or anything along those lines. The three performers at the heart of this stage version of the old television favourite deserve better than that.
Anyone who was alive in the 1990s cannot have failed to be exposed, to some degree or another, to the sitcom juggernaut that was Birds of a Feather. Created by veteran comedy writers Laurence Marks and Maurice Gran, it teamed Pauline Quirke with Linda Robson, whom the writers had worked with previously on Shine On Harvey Moon and whose pairing as the sisterly Essex ‘widows’ of career criminals was central to the success of the show.
But there was, of course, another factor. Step forward, Dorien Green, the voracious, man-eating neighbour from hell, played with lascivious keenness by Lesley Joseph. The play-off between the three, with Dorien sometimes bringing Sharon and Tracy together, sometimes driving a wedge between them, made for a 10-year television success story.
Audiences paying to watch this trio recreate their roles more than a decade on cannot fail to be entertained by the resurrection. All the old sparkiness is there, all the expected antagonism, jokes and banter, and a healthy dose of Marks and Gran’s poignant counterpoint to the comedy, although the stage script credit is shared with Gary Lawson and John Phelps.
Yes, it’s like an extended version of a TV episode. Yes, seeing the characters again after all this time feels a little like pulling on a pair of old slippers. And yes, Sharon can get a bit potty-mouthed when she wants to.
But let’s face it, that’s what the folks have grown up with, and that’s what they’ve come to see. On these counts, Birds of a Feather delivers.
A MIDSUMMER NIGHT’S DREAM
* * * * *
April 26, 2013
Royal Theatre, Northampton, until Saturday, May 11, 2013
DIRECTOR Gary Sefton can apparently do no wrong. The latest in a succession of five-star productions for Northampton’s Royal&Derngate, this extraordinary, hugely inventive and highly entertaining show should therefore come as no surprise.
But when it comes to Shakespeare, some directors who are good in their niche can be left exposed by the scale or particular requirements of the Bard. Sefton has no such difficulties.
This Edwardian Dream is endlessly imaginative, elegantly creative and hilarious enough to evince genuine tears of laughter. Cut – extremely intelligently – to an hour each way, it fizzes and froths with wit, energy and an infectious sense of unadulterated joy.
The cast of just eight are used hard. Every member doubles parts between the Athenian court and the magical forest, and is required to work especially diligently with character and costume changes, acrobatic coverage of the elaborate set and a plethora of regional accents. Fortunately, each rises to the challenge with stunning confidence.
Silas Carson and Amy Robbins are aristocratic and statuesque as the Greek lords and their woodland equivalents, Oberon and Titania. Some of the best verse-speaking is delivered by this pair, but they are also adept at conjuring moments of sultry tenderness or fiery fury.
Colin Ryan’s Puck is as delightfully sinister a creation as you could wish for, grinning wickedly as a lugubrious butler before ungloving a set of bright blue limbs to become the mischievous sprite, agile and always lurking above the enchanted lovers.
Charlie Archer, Oliver Gomm, Frances McNamee and Naomi Sheldon play the young quartet of mismatched and misunderstood suitors with vigour and charm, each finding a perfect level of bewilderment and youthful spirit and collectively imbuing the foursome with real character-based humour.
And as for Joe Alessi’s blunt, northern Bottom, his sense of comic timing is, quite simply, immaculate. He knows exactly where to place a line for maximum effect, offers a masterclass in the double-take and holds the audience comfortably in his hands as he teases out one belly-laugh after another. The late scene of the rustics’ play within a play – so often overblown and rather tedious – is as funny here as I have ever seen it.
Credit must also be given to the creative team, whose meticulous and clever input lays the groundwork for the production’s fluidity and warmth. Designer Ti Green has come up with an ingenious fabrication of wooden posts, platforms and windows that move – or rather, are moved magically by Puck – to create different locations, clothed in swathes of lush drapery that are beautifully lit by Richard Godin. Sound designer Jon Nicholls, meanwhile, has composed an underscore combining subtle, emotive music with evocative sound effects, adding a whole new dimension to the eeriness of the fairies’ world.
It’s another triumph for both Sefton and the Royal. Whether you’ve seen the Dream before or not, it’s a landmark production that comes highly recommended.
HIGH SOCIETY
April 10, 2013
Derngate, Northampton, until Saturday, April 13, 2013
TALK about setting the bar high: the creative team behind this touring show has given its stars Frank Sinatra, Bing Crosby and Grace Kelly to follow. And, in fairness, anyone would find that a pretty tough gig.
As it happens, Daniel Boys, Michael Praed and Sophie Bould respectively are all fine singers and actors, and very comfortable in their roles in this glossy, elegant production. The real problem is that the film version is so memorable, so iconic, that it’s this that proves the real impossible act to follow.
Arthur Kopit’s script takes some of the sumptuous Cole Porter songs of the movie and reworks the story to wedge in a handful more from other sources. This has the unfortunate effect not of enhancing the musical, but diluting it almost beyond recognition. Coupled with the glitzy but unsympathetic characters he draws, the overall impression – of spoilt rich people whining into their champagne – is far removed from Porter’s supremely frothy, utterly engaging original.
Despite this, the production looks terrific in Francis O’Connor’s design and the band of seven sounds much larger, sometimes to the detriment of the vocals. There’s a lively and talented chorus of butlers and maids, and a strong set of principals as the frankly ghastly Lord family gather for the wedding of socialite daughter Tracy (Bould).
Praed plays her former husband with a nice insouciance, while Boys continues to make good on the promise of his appearance on the Joseph talent show Any Dream Will Do back in 2007.
But the real star performance comes in the shape of Alex Young, making a big impression as the undercover magazine photographer who’s secretly in love with her reporter colleague. Young’s voice is impeccable and her timing immaculate as she balances delicately between broad comedy and emotional vulnerability.
The tunes are great, of course, and the evening is ultimately one of typical Porter wit and sparkle, even if the bubbles are not quite as fizzing as they might be.
MR WHATNOT
March 19, 2013
Royal Theatre, Northampton, until Saturday, April 6, 2013
WHAT on earth is one to make of this early curiosity from the modern master of comedy, Alan Ayckbourn? Now fifty years old, this piece of extended visual gaggery – described by director Cal McCrystal as “this odd little play and its eccentric personages” – is almost impossible to describe, let alone perform.
Predating, and yet clearly foreshadowing, the likes of Monty Python, Mr Bean and even the League of Gentlemen, it’s a real mish-mash of surreal comedy, slapstick physicality and silent movie tribute.
Superficially, the plot (such as it is) follows mute piano tuner Mint – Mr Whatnot – as he pays a visit to Craddock Grange, an outrageous old-fashioned and stereotyped country house dwelt in by the aristocratic Lord Slingsby-Craddock and his one-dimensional family. Mr Whatnot promptly falls for pretty-but-dim daughter Amanda and wreaks havoc among the household as he attempts to win her away from her intended, the lisping toff Cecil.
All this cardboard-cutout tosh merely serves as a backdrop to a succession of sight gags, pratfalls and tableaux which amount to little more than a sequence of sketches involving the same silent protagonist. So we get a mimed piano performance, a tennis match with no ball, an amusing deck-chair skit, a formal dinner party and a night-time dumb show in which everyone tiptoes into everyone else’s bedroom, with ensuing misunderstandings.
If it all sounds rather dated and hammy, then it probably is. But along the way, there’s a whole lot of laughs to be had, especially if you’re a fan of mime and physical comedy. Juanma Rodriguez, in the non-speaking title role, finds silent ways to make your sides ache, while the supporting cast of six camp their way through the daft proceedings with just the right amount of tongue in their cheeks and glint in their eyes.
McCrystal, meanwhile, steers things with a firm directorial hand, and deputy stage manager Vicky Eames leads a team of sadly uncredited technical experts to make the whole thing run with meticulous precision.
It’s certainly an oddity, and one with decidedly surreal overtones. But if you like your comedy visual, off-the-wall and in-yer-face, there’s a feast of fun to be found in this entertaining, crazy offering.
THE MOUSETRAP
March 18, 2013
Derngate, Northampton, until Saturday, March 23, 2013, then tour continues
BEFORE saying anything else, let me reassure you that this review is not going to give away whodunit – I’m now officially a partner in crime of The Mousetrap, and therefore sworn to secrecy.
Indeed, there’s something of the sworn-to-secrecy ‘club’ about the whole Mousetrap experience as the show goes out on tour for the first time in its 60-year history. Still playing at St Martin’s Theatre in the West End, the Agatha Christie classic has notched up all kinds of records as the longest-playing theatrical production in the world. Ever.
And while it’s a perfectly serviceable example of the genre, the biggest mystery is not who is causing the death count to rise in the cut-off, snowbound rural guest house that is Monkswell Manor. No, the biggest mystery is why it is still running for 60 years with no sign of letting up.
The fact is there’s nothing outstanding about it. The plot is somewhat creaky and slow, the playing camped up, the dialogue dated and stretching credulity. Money has clearly been spent on the wood-panelled set – but with no ordinary programmes for sale and a hefty eight quid required instead for the souvenir brochure, the audience deserves some return for its investment.
What they get is to be part of the club. The producers should issue badges at the exits: “I’ve seen The Mousetrap.” Because there really is something of a frisson about watching it, however ordinary the actual product is, and being inveigled into the club.
It doesn’t really matter who’s in it – for the record, the cast includes an underused Graham Seed and a curiously miscast Karl Howman – or even whodunit. Perhaps the greatest pleasure of The Mousetrap is to be able to say to the world: I’m now a partner in crime.
JOSEPH AND THE AMAZING TECHNICOLOR DREAMCOAT
February 19, 2013
Derngate, Northampton, until Saturday, February 23, 2013, then tour continues
INCREDIBLY, it’s been nearly six years since the television show Any Dream Will Do named Lee Mead as the nation’s choice to play Joseph. His runner-up from that talent search, Keith Jack, is now in the hot seat himself, enjoying his second spell touring in the title role.
Fans of the fresh-faced Scottish youngster will be delighted at the renewed chance to catch him in the multi-coloured coat, not least because his voice is as velvety and winsome as ever, despite occasionally holding back presumably in an attempt to preserve it for eight shows a week.
But in an odd kind of way, Keith is not the biggest draw in this Bill Kenwright spectacle that seemingly never runs out of road. Yes, he’s lovely to look at, he sounds delightful and he’s popular with ladies of a certain age. But in this energetic, relentless production, he’s got a hell of a lot of competition on stage.
First up, there’s Lauren Ingram, 18 months out of drama school and giving a magnificently assured performance as the Narrator. Her voice is impeccable, her stagecraft beautifully controlled and her twinkling personality highly infectious. Remember the name: she’s going to go a long way.
She’s matched note for note, too, by the powerful ensemble of Joseph’s eleven brothers, plus three girls who do far more than make up the numbers. The fraternal troupe, without exception, give it their all and the full-throated sound of them in mid-chorus – dancing frenetically all the while – is impressive, to say the least. Lloyd Webber’s playful score and Tim Rice’s sparkling lyrics can rarely have sounded so good.
It may be heading for its fiftieth birthday, but Joseph somehow remains as fresh and lively as ever, and the clear commitment and sheer fun on display from the sizeable cast and seven-strong band under James McCullagh makes this – still – a night to remember.
ONE FOR THE ROAD
February 5, 2013
Royal Theatre, Northampton, until Saturday, February 23, 2013
WILLY Russell’s comedy provides a fitting title for the swansong production by departing artistic director Laurie Sansom. And the show itself provides a fine farewell to the man who has run this building for seven years, helming a period of extraordinary critical and popular acclaim and reinforcing Northampton’s place on the theatrical map.
The play itself is regular Russell fare, with the broad, effective comedy rooted in class and social aspirations, and Sansom’s production makes good use of the 1980s setting, with excellent period detail from designer Jessica Curtis on a fascinating minimalist set of invisible walls and housing estate conformity.
The cast of four are consistently superb, with the slow disintegration of the two couples’ relationship carefully and precisely drawn, with moments of pathos and pain along the way.
Con O’Neill, at the heart of the piece, reveals an impressive control of his character Dennis, descending through drink and a midlife crisis into crazy behaviour and wild extravagances. He is ably matched by Michelle Butterly, a wonderful foil as his wife Pauline, who lurches between superficial snobbery and affectionate devotion.
Their dinner-party guests, Jane and Roger, are beautifully played by Nicola Stephenson and Matthew Wait, one the self-appointed guardian of the new estate’s standards, the other all flashy smile and no substance. The foursome, who could so easily veer into stereotypical caricatures, are instead three-dimensional, believable creations whose every motive and action is clear and credible.
Russell’s script is full of big laughs coupled, as you might expect from the writer of Blood Brothers, with moments of real poignancy, and Sansom and his team are alert to every nuance.
The result is an evening of enormous pleasure, and a suitable tribute to the departing director. He will be greatly missed in Northampton.
* * * *
December 10, 2013
Derngate, Northampton, until Sunday, January 5, 2014
LINDA Lusardi and her hubby Sam Kane were last seen on the Derngate panto stage in 2009. Now they’re back in Sleeping Beauty, with Kane also performing directorial duties and Lusardi in fine wicked witch form as the evil Carabosse.
It’s a show that sparkles – quite literally, thanks to an expensive-looking set – and smartly mixes established pop tunes with some appealing original songs from Olly Ashmore. Jon Conway’s script, too, has more than a dash of originality about, avoiding too heavy a reliance on hoary old panto gags and bringing instead some fresh, lively humour to the fairytale.
Andy Jones works well alongside Kane to provide an enjoyable comic double-act of royal sidekicks, while Shinead Byrne in the title role and Alex Jordan-Mills as Prince William make a fine-voiced pair of young lovers. Kim Wall, meanwhile, in his debut as a panto dame, looks born to the role of Nurse Dolly, relishing his outrageous frocks and wigs and infusing the character with a healthy dose of silliness.
Magician Phil Hitchcock has a glint in his eye and a talent for impressive illusions which he conjures up in the role of the King, and there are some truly spectacular 3D effects which have the entire audience gasping or screaming, depending on age. In fact, some of the creepy-crawlies that come leaping from the stage are so remarkably lifelike and terrifying that little ones of a nervous disposition should certainly be warned in advance.
There’s the usual gripe about pre-recorded music instead of a much-needed live band, and some of the sound mixing leaves it quite hard to hear things clearly at times, but this is a genuinely entertaining, knockabout Christmas panto with all the ingredients you could wish for, from a very messy cooking scene to the drenching of the audience with water.
And a happy new year to you too…
THE WIND IN THE WILLOWS
* * * * *
November 29, 2013
Royal Theatre, Northampton, until Sunday, January 5, 2014
SPARE a thought for Jack Edwards. He’s the actor cast as Toad of Toad Hall in the Royal Theatre’s magical new Christmas show The Wind in the Willows and, as such, he should be centre stage at the end of the opening night, welcoming the standing ovation the production rightly attracts.
Instead, he’s watching from the stalls, nursing an injury after falling downstairs with an armful of washing. In his place, winning those plaudits, stands Gavin Spokes, a spectacularly brave replacement drafted in to the show with just two days’ notice.
Learning the lines, songs and blocking in such a short timespan would be challenging in even the simplest of roles. As Toad, in a production directed by Gary Sefton, who has cornered the market in frenetic, energetic, relentless shows at the Royal, it’s nothing short of extraordinary.
Spokes looks like he was born for the part – sorry, Jack – and fits seamlessly into the well-drilled company. Unsurprisingly, there’s the odd stumble or mishap, such as being hit in the face by a falling prop, but it’s all handled with a healthy sense of fun and audience involvement. If anything, the adventure of the actor’s rollercoaster journey adds to the heightened joy of the evening.
Sefton, as always, drives his cast incredibly hard. Katy Phipps and Christopher Harper are beautifully paired as Mole and Ratty, whose boating trip down the river kicks off a narrative which takes in Toad’s foolish fads, Badger’s wintry home and a stunning courtroom sequence that brings the house down for the interval.
Sion Lloyd is a wonderfully gruff Badger, while Stuart Angell puts in hilarious turns as Albert the horse and the Chief Weasel, accompanied by a troupe of sure-footed youngsters. Jennie Dale and Cherelle Skeete complete the pro line-up, adding an array of colourful characters that are both memorable and delightful.
On a highly inventive set from designer Sara Perks, and accompanied by songs from Neil Brand, Patrick Sandford’s faithful adaptation trundles merrily from one enjoyable episode to another, bringing the audience happily along for the breathless, blissful ride.
Jack Edwards will surely be tooting his horn with impatience to get back on this particular road. Poop-poop!
MANSFIELD PARK
* * *
October 28, 2013
Royal Theatre, Northampton, until Saturday November 2, 2013, then tour continues
IF you’re adapting Jane Austen for television or film, you’ve got the luxury of fairly substantial budgets for sets, costumes and location shooting. In the theatre, on a tight touring schedule, the limitations are much more restrictive.
The Theatre Royal, Bury St Edmunds, astutely decides to make a virtue out of necessity for this new outing of its 2012 production and opts for a simple but versatile set (Kit Surrey), concentrating instead on making the complex relationships as clear and intelligible as possible.
In Tim Luscombe’s pacy adaptation, this means the story fairly rips along, skipping years here and there in the blink of an eye or the turn of a newspaper page. Director Colin Blumenau always makes sure the audience are keeping up with these rapid changes, and the cast of eight are impeccable with their different characters in multiple roles.
The women fare particularly well – as is often the case in Austen – and notable performances come from Laura Doddington as the unreliable socialite Mary Crawford and Julie Teal as an especially poisonous Aunt Norris. But the tone and atmosphere of the piece are well maintained across the company, serving their author and story in a solid, enjoyable piece of Regency social fluffery.
CATS
* * * * *
September 30, 2013
Derngate, Northampton, until Saturday, October 5, 2013, then tour continues
IT’S more than thirty years since those iconic eyes first stared out of a poster in London’s West End, and more than ten since they last did, but Cats remains one of the most successful musicals of all time. Now touring again under the production banner of David Ian, Andrew Lloyd Webber’s most radical show looks as lively and inventive as it ever did.
Most people thought he was mad when he announced back in 1980 that he planned a musical version of TS Eliot’s children’s verse favourite, Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats. But with Cameron Mackintosh behind him and director Trevor Nunn at the helm, Lloyd Webber carved out a show that was hugely creative, combining song, dance and visual spectacle in a way that had never been done before.
The original was performed in a gutted theatre, rebuilt in the round specially for the purpose. The outsize rubbish dump in which the action plays out may now be a more traditional end-on stage, but John Napier’s extraordinary design still works brilliantly.
Coupled with Gillian Lynne’s meticulous feline choreography and a vast cast of multi-talented performers, the overall effect is as beguiling and impressive as ever. The footwork is exemplary, the vocals terrific and the magic of the make-up and costume complete. Plus there’s a fabulous live band under musical director Adrian Kirk.
Standout moments in a production full of showcase performances come from Gus the Theatre Cat (Paul F Monaghan) and Jellylorum (Clare Rickard) as they relive the old trouper’s finest moments on the boards, and from Skimbleshanks the Railway Cat (Ross Finnie), whose big number is wonderfully staged and perfectly executed.
And then there’s Memory, the climactic song performed by the rejected Grizabella (Sophia Ragavelas), which brings tears to the eyes and a lump to the throat.
If you’ve seen it before, you’ll know this is a vibrant production of a stunning show. If you haven’t – what on earth are you waiting for?
TO SIR, WITH LOVE
* * * *
September 10, 2013
Royal Theatre, Northampton, until Saturday, September 28, 2013, then touring
THE autobiographical tale of black teacher Ricky Braithwaite striking up a unique relationship with pupils in an East End school in the bleak post-war years was made into a classic film in the 1960s starring Sidney Poitier.
That movie could have cast a long shadow over this new stage adaptation by East Is East writer Ayub Khan Din, but sensibly he went back to the original source material to find his inspiration in a wide variety of themes. Yes, appalling racism is there, but so too is a thoughtful critique of teaching methods, observations on poverty and the class divide, and an intriguing examination of the social mores of the time. Oh, and quite a few laughs too.
What’s perhaps most interesting is the way so many of these themes still resonate today. The character of the headmaster Florian, in particular, could have been parachuted in from any of the last five or six decades; a modernising, radical educator with fresh and liberating ideas about how to treat young adults in a school setting.
Some of the arguments sound a little stilted and formal – although this may have something to do with the clipped, stylised period delivery – and some lengthy scenes feel static and restricted, but the overall effect is engaging and thought-provoking.
Matthew Kelly’s Florian is beautifully played, a well-judged mixture of articulate enthusiasm and solid authority. Ansu Kabia is hampered by a sling on his left arm following last-minute surgery days before opening, and his Ricky also feels slightly constrained, as his movements and direct involvement in the action have clearly been.
There’s good support among the teaching staff from Nicola Reynolds’s chummy realist Clinty and Paul Kemp’s hideous Weston, who is finally won over from his dinosaur attitudes by Ricky’s dogged persistence in the face of the odds.
But the real stars are the outstanding ensemble of ‘children’ – four professional actors supplemented by eight community youngsters – who bring vigour, energy, dancing and a fair bit of scene-shifting to the production. Their constant presence, whether active or not, reminds us throughout that education, regardless of the vogue theories, is actually all about them.
Perhaps the biggest emotional punch of the night came after the curtain call, when Kelly announced that the book’s author ER Braithwaite – now 101 and living in New York – was in the house. He duly stepped up on stage and took a bow, to a standing ovation from the audience.
This adaptation, going on tour after its Northampton run, is a timely reminder of the responsibilities and duties we have to successive generations, as Florian puts it, “class by class, year on year”.
MIDNIGHT TANGO
* * * *
July 8, 2013
Derngate, Northampton, until Saturday, July 13, 2013
FANS of Vincent and Flavia from television’s Strictly Come Dancing cannot fail to be delighted by this evening of flashing feet, Latin lovers and tango theatricality.
You might imagine it would be hard to make a single dance stretch across an entire performance without it becoming repetitive, but director Karen Bruce – who worked with the pair on Strictly – pulls it off with the aid of some stunning choreography courtesy of the leading pair, a dramatic and evocative set (Morgan Large) and some nice cameo touches in a series of sub-plots.
Plots? Well, yes. This is not simply a succession of routines, it’s a kind of story told in dance, loosely hung around the competing machismos of Vincent and a would-be love rival, Diomar Giraldo, as they tussle, sometimes literally, for the affections of Flavia in a tango bar in Buenos Aires.
Woven among the fiery dance steps are little comedy touches, particularly from Tricia Deighton and Anthony Renshaw as the bar owners, whose own small love story plays out in the background before getting a wonderfully poignant moment of their own in the spotlight.
The fourteen-strong company are a whirlwind of skirts, steps and sharp suits, sometimes more tightly drilled than others, and there’s a stunningly authentic five-piece band on stage to keep the musical momentum rolling along.
But there’s no doubting the stars of the show and from their first appearances, cheered wildly by an enthusiastic audience, Vincent Simone and Flavia Cacace are in command, not just of the stage but of our attention.
I confess I am no dance expert but the choreography is intricate and impressive, even to the untutored eye. Vincent is majestic and powerful, Flavia sinuous and athletic, and the heat of the Argentinian night is almost palpable in the sultry story they unfold.
DANCING AT LUGHNASA
* * *
May 28, 2013
Royal Theatre, Northampton, until Saturday, June 15, 2013
BRIAN Friel’s acclaimed play, first seen in 1990, is a curious piece. Set in Ireland in 1936, and framed by a flashback narrative from the then seven-year-old boy as a grown-up, it’s firmly fixed in a definite time and place. And while theoretically its themes of family, secrets and the decline of a rural idyll should carry beyond the Irish borders, much of the idiom and style of the play is rooted unequivocally in its location and period.
This makes it difficult for the cast of eight to bring much in the way of contemporary resonance to the piece, and leaves it struggling to be anything more than an anachronistic, rather dated theatrical curiosity.
Under Richard Beecham’s direction, the rich language and imagery of Friel’s script is certainly to the fore, aided by some native casting and an evocative – if surprisingly restrictive – naturalistic set by Naomi Dawson.
The story of five sisters sharing a home in a remote village has shades of Chekhov about it, and such action as there is amounts to some Irish jigging and lots of knitting. The pace is deliberately slow, the unfolding sadness measured and contained – which is fine, except that the audience has to work hard to engage or get caught up in any real notion of drama.
The actors are consistently strong, with an especially touching performance from Zoe Rainey as Christina, the sister who is mother to the young boy. Jon Nicholls’s subtle but effective music and Lee Curran’s gentle lighting also add to the melancholia, and there’s a palpable, rather suffocating, sense of atmosphere.
The production is handsome and elegantly played, but it’s an odd choice of play and may prove a tough sell to Northampton audiences.
BIRDSONG
* * *
May 13, 2013
Royal Theatre, Northampton, until Saturday, May 18, 2013, then tour continues
ADAPTING a novel for the stage can be a notoriously tricky business. When the novel concerned is a much-loved modern favourite – such as Sebastian Faulks’s Birdsong, a love story set against the backdrop of the First World War – it’s doubly difficult.
In the programme notes, Faulks himself even expresses his doubts at the attempt, asking: “Why try to make a painting from a sculpture?” To which the adapter, Rachel Wagstaff, replies that both painting and sculpture have a place.
In fact, this is her second go at an adaptation, the first having run in London in 2010. Since then, she’s restructured the piece, positioning it firmly within the War, with the bittersweet love story told in flashbacks. This has the unfortunate effect of making her male protagonist, Stephen, already angry, twisted and literally shell-shocked when we first encounter him, and he never recovers from being instantly distanced from the audience’s sympathy. He’s irredeemably unpleasant and his subsequent woes therefore fail to engage or evoke the kind of emotion that Faulks’s story depends on.
This major flaw undermines the whole piece and as a direct consequence, the love story isn’t sufficiently moving and I was never drawn in to what could have been an intense and highly charged narrative. As for the trenches scenes, they are simply bleak – and have been better done elsewhere, such as in the hugely poignant Blackadder Goes Forth.
The cast of twelve work extremely hard, covering a vast range of accents, characters and locations, and producers The Original Theatre Company deserve credit for touring such a large-scale show with impressive set design (Victoria Spearing) and complex staging.
There are some nice touches, particularly with the use of hymns and songs to underscore parts of the action, but running at the best part of three hours – even with elements of the tale rushed through or skipped over – this is heavy going. Ultimately director Alastair Whatley must carry the can for not wielding a harsher editing knife and for failing to find the real emotional punch in a story with such extraordinary potential.
BIRDS OF A FEATHER
* * *
April 30, 2013
Derngate, Northampton, until Saturday, May 4, 2013, then tour continues
I’D like to formally announce right here that I shall be making no snide, sarky comments about old birds or anything along those lines. The three performers at the heart of this stage version of the old television favourite deserve better than that.
Anyone who was alive in the 1990s cannot have failed to be exposed, to some degree or another, to the sitcom juggernaut that was Birds of a Feather. Created by veteran comedy writers Laurence Marks and Maurice Gran, it teamed Pauline Quirke with Linda Robson, whom the writers had worked with previously on Shine On Harvey Moon and whose pairing as the sisterly Essex ‘widows’ of career criminals was central to the success of the show.
But there was, of course, another factor. Step forward, Dorien Green, the voracious, man-eating neighbour from hell, played with lascivious keenness by Lesley Joseph. The play-off between the three, with Dorien sometimes bringing Sharon and Tracy together, sometimes driving a wedge between them, made for a 10-year television success story.
Audiences paying to watch this trio recreate their roles more than a decade on cannot fail to be entertained by the resurrection. All the old sparkiness is there, all the expected antagonism, jokes and banter, and a healthy dose of Marks and Gran’s poignant counterpoint to the comedy, although the stage script credit is shared with Gary Lawson and John Phelps.
Yes, it’s like an extended version of a TV episode. Yes, seeing the characters again after all this time feels a little like pulling on a pair of old slippers. And yes, Sharon can get a bit potty-mouthed when she wants to.
But let’s face it, that’s what the folks have grown up with, and that’s what they’ve come to see. On these counts, Birds of a Feather delivers.
A MIDSUMMER NIGHT’S DREAM
* * * * *
April 26, 2013
Royal Theatre, Northampton, until Saturday, May 11, 2013
DIRECTOR Gary Sefton can apparently do no wrong. The latest in a succession of five-star productions for Northampton’s Royal&Derngate, this extraordinary, hugely inventive and highly entertaining show should therefore come as no surprise.
But when it comes to Shakespeare, some directors who are good in their niche can be left exposed by the scale or particular requirements of the Bard. Sefton has no such difficulties.
This Edwardian Dream is endlessly imaginative, elegantly creative and hilarious enough to evince genuine tears of laughter. Cut – extremely intelligently – to an hour each way, it fizzes and froths with wit, energy and an infectious sense of unadulterated joy.
The cast of just eight are used hard. Every member doubles parts between the Athenian court and the magical forest, and is required to work especially diligently with character and costume changes, acrobatic coverage of the elaborate set and a plethora of regional accents. Fortunately, each rises to the challenge with stunning confidence.
Silas Carson and Amy Robbins are aristocratic and statuesque as the Greek lords and their woodland equivalents, Oberon and Titania. Some of the best verse-speaking is delivered by this pair, but they are also adept at conjuring moments of sultry tenderness or fiery fury.
Colin Ryan’s Puck is as delightfully sinister a creation as you could wish for, grinning wickedly as a lugubrious butler before ungloving a set of bright blue limbs to become the mischievous sprite, agile and always lurking above the enchanted lovers.
Charlie Archer, Oliver Gomm, Frances McNamee and Naomi Sheldon play the young quartet of mismatched and misunderstood suitors with vigour and charm, each finding a perfect level of bewilderment and youthful spirit and collectively imbuing the foursome with real character-based humour.
And as for Joe Alessi’s blunt, northern Bottom, his sense of comic timing is, quite simply, immaculate. He knows exactly where to place a line for maximum effect, offers a masterclass in the double-take and holds the audience comfortably in his hands as he teases out one belly-laugh after another. The late scene of the rustics’ play within a play – so often overblown and rather tedious – is as funny here as I have ever seen it.
Credit must also be given to the creative team, whose meticulous and clever input lays the groundwork for the production’s fluidity and warmth. Designer Ti Green has come up with an ingenious fabrication of wooden posts, platforms and windows that move – or rather, are moved magically by Puck – to create different locations, clothed in swathes of lush drapery that are beautifully lit by Richard Godin. Sound designer Jon Nicholls, meanwhile, has composed an underscore combining subtle, emotive music with evocative sound effects, adding a whole new dimension to the eeriness of the fairies’ world.
It’s another triumph for both Sefton and the Royal. Whether you’ve seen the Dream before or not, it’s a landmark production that comes highly recommended.
HIGH SOCIETY
April 10, 2013
Derngate, Northampton, until Saturday, April 13, 2013
TALK about setting the bar high: the creative team behind this touring show has given its stars Frank Sinatra, Bing Crosby and Grace Kelly to follow. And, in fairness, anyone would find that a pretty tough gig.
As it happens, Daniel Boys, Michael Praed and Sophie Bould respectively are all fine singers and actors, and very comfortable in their roles in this glossy, elegant production. The real problem is that the film version is so memorable, so iconic, that it’s this that proves the real impossible act to follow.
Arthur Kopit’s script takes some of the sumptuous Cole Porter songs of the movie and reworks the story to wedge in a handful more from other sources. This has the unfortunate effect not of enhancing the musical, but diluting it almost beyond recognition. Coupled with the glitzy but unsympathetic characters he draws, the overall impression – of spoilt rich people whining into their champagne – is far removed from Porter’s supremely frothy, utterly engaging original.
Despite this, the production looks terrific in Francis O’Connor’s design and the band of seven sounds much larger, sometimes to the detriment of the vocals. There’s a lively and talented chorus of butlers and maids, and a strong set of principals as the frankly ghastly Lord family gather for the wedding of socialite daughter Tracy (Bould).
Praed plays her former husband with a nice insouciance, while Boys continues to make good on the promise of his appearance on the Joseph talent show Any Dream Will Do back in 2007.
But the real star performance comes in the shape of Alex Young, making a big impression as the undercover magazine photographer who’s secretly in love with her reporter colleague. Young’s voice is impeccable and her timing immaculate as she balances delicately between broad comedy and emotional vulnerability.
The tunes are great, of course, and the evening is ultimately one of typical Porter wit and sparkle, even if the bubbles are not quite as fizzing as they might be.
MR WHATNOT
March 19, 2013
Royal Theatre, Northampton, until Saturday, April 6, 2013
WHAT on earth is one to make of this early curiosity from the modern master of comedy, Alan Ayckbourn? Now fifty years old, this piece of extended visual gaggery – described by director Cal McCrystal as “this odd little play and its eccentric personages” – is almost impossible to describe, let alone perform.
Predating, and yet clearly foreshadowing, the likes of Monty Python, Mr Bean and even the League of Gentlemen, it’s a real mish-mash of surreal comedy, slapstick physicality and silent movie tribute.
Superficially, the plot (such as it is) follows mute piano tuner Mint – Mr Whatnot – as he pays a visit to Craddock Grange, an outrageous old-fashioned and stereotyped country house dwelt in by the aristocratic Lord Slingsby-Craddock and his one-dimensional family. Mr Whatnot promptly falls for pretty-but-dim daughter Amanda and wreaks havoc among the household as he attempts to win her away from her intended, the lisping toff Cecil.
All this cardboard-cutout tosh merely serves as a backdrop to a succession of sight gags, pratfalls and tableaux which amount to little more than a sequence of sketches involving the same silent protagonist. So we get a mimed piano performance, a tennis match with no ball, an amusing deck-chair skit, a formal dinner party and a night-time dumb show in which everyone tiptoes into everyone else’s bedroom, with ensuing misunderstandings.
If it all sounds rather dated and hammy, then it probably is. But along the way, there’s a whole lot of laughs to be had, especially if you’re a fan of mime and physical comedy. Juanma Rodriguez, in the non-speaking title role, finds silent ways to make your sides ache, while the supporting cast of six camp their way through the daft proceedings with just the right amount of tongue in their cheeks and glint in their eyes.
McCrystal, meanwhile, steers things with a firm directorial hand, and deputy stage manager Vicky Eames leads a team of sadly uncredited technical experts to make the whole thing run with meticulous precision.
It’s certainly an oddity, and one with decidedly surreal overtones. But if you like your comedy visual, off-the-wall and in-yer-face, there’s a feast of fun to be found in this entertaining, crazy offering.
THE MOUSETRAP
March 18, 2013
Derngate, Northampton, until Saturday, March 23, 2013, then tour continues
BEFORE saying anything else, let me reassure you that this review is not going to give away whodunit – I’m now officially a partner in crime of The Mousetrap, and therefore sworn to secrecy.
Indeed, there’s something of the sworn-to-secrecy ‘club’ about the whole Mousetrap experience as the show goes out on tour for the first time in its 60-year history. Still playing at St Martin’s Theatre in the West End, the Agatha Christie classic has notched up all kinds of records as the longest-playing theatrical production in the world. Ever.
And while it’s a perfectly serviceable example of the genre, the biggest mystery is not who is causing the death count to rise in the cut-off, snowbound rural guest house that is Monkswell Manor. No, the biggest mystery is why it is still running for 60 years with no sign of letting up.
The fact is there’s nothing outstanding about it. The plot is somewhat creaky and slow, the playing camped up, the dialogue dated and stretching credulity. Money has clearly been spent on the wood-panelled set – but with no ordinary programmes for sale and a hefty eight quid required instead for the souvenir brochure, the audience deserves some return for its investment.
What they get is to be part of the club. The producers should issue badges at the exits: “I’ve seen The Mousetrap.” Because there really is something of a frisson about watching it, however ordinary the actual product is, and being inveigled into the club.
It doesn’t really matter who’s in it – for the record, the cast includes an underused Graham Seed and a curiously miscast Karl Howman – or even whodunit. Perhaps the greatest pleasure of The Mousetrap is to be able to say to the world: I’m now a partner in crime.
JOSEPH AND THE AMAZING TECHNICOLOR DREAMCOAT
February 19, 2013
Derngate, Northampton, until Saturday, February 23, 2013, then tour continues
INCREDIBLY, it’s been nearly six years since the television show Any Dream Will Do named Lee Mead as the nation’s choice to play Joseph. His runner-up from that talent search, Keith Jack, is now in the hot seat himself, enjoying his second spell touring in the title role.
Fans of the fresh-faced Scottish youngster will be delighted at the renewed chance to catch him in the multi-coloured coat, not least because his voice is as velvety and winsome as ever, despite occasionally holding back presumably in an attempt to preserve it for eight shows a week.
But in an odd kind of way, Keith is not the biggest draw in this Bill Kenwright spectacle that seemingly never runs out of road. Yes, he’s lovely to look at, he sounds delightful and he’s popular with ladies of a certain age. But in this energetic, relentless production, he’s got a hell of a lot of competition on stage.
First up, there’s Lauren Ingram, 18 months out of drama school and giving a magnificently assured performance as the Narrator. Her voice is impeccable, her stagecraft beautifully controlled and her twinkling personality highly infectious. Remember the name: she’s going to go a long way.
She’s matched note for note, too, by the powerful ensemble of Joseph’s eleven brothers, plus three girls who do far more than make up the numbers. The fraternal troupe, without exception, give it their all and the full-throated sound of them in mid-chorus – dancing frenetically all the while – is impressive, to say the least. Lloyd Webber’s playful score and Tim Rice’s sparkling lyrics can rarely have sounded so good.
It may be heading for its fiftieth birthday, but Joseph somehow remains as fresh and lively as ever, and the clear commitment and sheer fun on display from the sizeable cast and seven-strong band under James McCullagh makes this – still – a night to remember.
ONE FOR THE ROAD
February 5, 2013
Royal Theatre, Northampton, until Saturday, February 23, 2013
WILLY Russell’s comedy provides a fitting title for the swansong production by departing artistic director Laurie Sansom. And the show itself provides a fine farewell to the man who has run this building for seven years, helming a period of extraordinary critical and popular acclaim and reinforcing Northampton’s place on the theatrical map.
The play itself is regular Russell fare, with the broad, effective comedy rooted in class and social aspirations, and Sansom’s production makes good use of the 1980s setting, with excellent period detail from designer Jessica Curtis on a fascinating minimalist set of invisible walls and housing estate conformity.
The cast of four are consistently superb, with the slow disintegration of the two couples’ relationship carefully and precisely drawn, with moments of pathos and pain along the way.
Con O’Neill, at the heart of the piece, reveals an impressive control of his character Dennis, descending through drink and a midlife crisis into crazy behaviour and wild extravagances. He is ably matched by Michelle Butterly, a wonderful foil as his wife Pauline, who lurches between superficial snobbery and affectionate devotion.
Their dinner-party guests, Jane and Roger, are beautifully played by Nicola Stephenson and Matthew Wait, one the self-appointed guardian of the new estate’s standards, the other all flashy smile and no substance. The foursome, who could so easily veer into stereotypical caricatures, are instead three-dimensional, believable creations whose every motive and action is clear and credible.
Russell’s script is full of big laughs coupled, as you might expect from the writer of Blood Brothers, with moments of real poignancy, and Sansom and his team are alert to every nuance.
The result is an evening of enormous pleasure, and a suitable tribute to the departing director. He will be greatly missed in Northampton.
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