Theatre Reviews 2017

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SUNSET BOULEVARD at the Palace Theatre, Manchester

 

24th October 2017

 

I have read rather gushing reviews of this production, which have somewhat confused me. It is based on the classic film, which tells a classic story, which is filmed expertly in a classic style. It is therefore a brave choice to try to transfer this to the stage and I didn’t feel it was wholly successful.

 

The set and lighting were used successfully. The cast were all good, especially the stars, Ria Jones as Norma Desmond (played by Gloria Swanson in the film) and the William Holdenesque Danny Mac (played by William Holden in the film). Although Danny Mac looked the part – and we know he can dance as he was in the final of Strictly Come Dancing, but I wasn’t sure he’d be able to sing. I needn’t have worried; he held his own against the sublime Ria Jones, who was channelling Gloria Swanson in her superbly exaggerated facial expressions and sheer presence.

 

So far so good. Where I feel it fell flat was in the writing. The music was very nice, but it all sounded very familiar. It was like listening to a Lloyd Webber Greatest Hits compilation. There seemed to be strains from Phantom, Joseph and Jesus Christ Superstar. But the majority of the words were appalling. Most of the numbers were purely functional, to move the plot forward, without existing as a song in their own right. The words often didn’t scan, were shoehorned in and quite incongruous. The opening song was pure exposition, the plot being flung at the audience really clumsily in an overlong number that I didn’t like at all – I felt the music was too weak to carry all the leaden words and I thought it was going to be a long night.

 

The first half was very slow and very underwhelming – apart from the quality of the performances. The second half, however, was tighter and felt more together. It opened with Danny Mac singing the cynical and sinister Sunset Boulevard and ended, of course, with the classic line: “I’m ready for my close up, Mr De Mille.” It is a poignant story which explores the subject of fame and how audio killed the visual star, and for the most part I felt it was very heavy-handedly treated by Lloyd Webber and his clumsy opera-for-the-masses approach. Not a classic by any means, though the cast are exceptional.

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Star rating: ***

Reviewed by: Gray Freeman

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“Thorn” at the King’s Arms

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An hour-long play by Tim Keogh, about the youth of Steven Patrick Morrissey, singer and frontman of Mancunian band, The Smiths.  

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It follows the home and school life of the teenage Steven, a quiet and withdrawn teenager obsessed by the music of Bowie and T-Rex and the whole glam rock scene.

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The play opens in the Morrissey family’s Streford home – watching TV in the evening and Dad being outraged by Bowie, circa Ziggy Stardust “Is it a boy or a girl? Decent people might be eating their tea!” From homophobia Dad slips into casual racism, declaring “I’m not a racist! I like the Black and White Minstrels!” which gets a politically aware 2017 laugh. There is very much a “them and us” theme, starting with incoming “foreigners” who are viewed with suspicion, but as Mother points out, they themselves were harshly treated for being Irish Catholic immigrants and later Morrissey will feel alienated by his sexuality.

 

“Dad” (Adam Waddington) is a brash alpha male – it isn’t a character of any subtlety; he is a meat-and-two-veg, in-your-face working man who would rather his son liked football and girls than sitting in his room listening to cross-dressing singers and scribbling poetry. It is a strong performance delivered with an equally strong Irish accent.

 

Elizabeth Poole as “Mother” is nicely maternal and sister Jackie, played by Beth Hunter is a larger-than-life teenage girl obsessed with music and boys, but both are supportive to the young Steven.

 

Steven himself (Daniel Murphy) is perhaps the least defined; he is shy and introverted, but I think there would be so much more impact if the character had been more like the Morrissey we know, the Morrissey he became: fey, self-indulgent, theatrical, acutely intelligent and spouting Oscar Wilde – perhaps this is a more accurate depiction of how Morrissey was at this age, but it is less theatrically pleasing.

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Luke Halliwell and Daniel Paul make an impressive comedy pairing as Steven’s classmates, a pair of Rusholme ruffians. There is a strong performance – or rather performances – by hard-working Ethan Holmes, who plays a vicar (without tutu), ritual headmaster and mugger – all loud and aggressive male characters, but all different and convincing.

 

There were a couple of moments that could have been tighter, such as Steven trying on his new “glam” shirt, when there was no dialogue and it was just dead air, but overall I found the hour to be very well-used and I was absorbed and entertained. There are a few song titles and lines thrown in for comedic effect, “a buck-toothed girl in Luxembourg” and references to “Strangeways” which the audience enjoyed. There is an amusing scene at a party where a girl tries to kiss Steven and he bends further and further away from her to try and avoid her. Later that night Steven is mugged and beaten up which leads to an outpouring of his emotions into his poetry, which is perhaps the final transformation of Steven into Morrissey and heaven knows, he’s miserable now.

 

I felt it became a bit rushed at the end. Dad is no longer living at home, this is just mentioned fleetingly without explanation. Despite revealing his sexuality to his sister earlier, this charming man suddenly declares undying love for another girl he met at the party, but is rebuffed. The play then ends quite suddenly with him announcing he has met a boy called Johnny, a guitarist, and they might form a band. And Steven, rather self-indulgently, pronounces himself to be “the boy with the thorn in his side” at which point the lights go down. It’s a cheesy ending but for me it works. The Smiths single “The Boy With the Thorn in His Side” predictably belts out as the cast take a curtain call.

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It didn’t feel like the most polished of scripts, but I was thoroughly entertained and totally engaged. If you like the Smiths you should enjoy it; if you don’t what difference does it make?

 

 

Star rating **** (4 stars)

Reviewed by Gray Freeman

Reviewed on 24th July 2017.

 

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starke.florida: the final hours of Ted Bundy

@ the King’s Arms, Salford

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The tiny “vault” theatre at the King’s Arms only holds twenty people; it was packed full of an audience of the morbidly curious… and me, to witness a re-enactment of the last hours of serial killer Ted Bundy.

 

An older man in a trench coat and hat introduces himself as Howard, a tough cop who has spent two years with Bundy, during his trial. Howard is played with consummate ease and a convincing accent by John Smeathers, who conveys years of experience, world-weariness but compassion.

 

Ted Bundy enters, dressed in an orange T-shirt, the colour of most state prison uniforms. Eddie Capli bears more than a passing resemblance to the killer, in fact the likeness is quite eerie. He plays the roll so convincingly that I can only picture him playing murderers from now on. I’m sure he’s perfectly nice, but I wouldn’t invite him round for tea.

 

Bundy is softly spoken and unassuming; he comes across as an “average guy”, the boy next door in small town America, polite and sensitive. You could almost start to believe that he is genuine and not at all a monster, but then the reveal is a beautifully set up moment when Bundy asks if he can touch Howard; Howard recoils in horror and refuses, but Bundy tells of his loneliness and isolation and about the entity inside him that forces him to kill. Eventually, in an act of compassion, Howard reluctantly holds out his hand at which point Bundy breaks down laughing. Capli injects such cruelty and insanity into his character; it is a total, chilling transformation, genuinely unsettling. It is a well-studied and nuanced performance that crackles with a disturbing electricity. It is immediately clear that we don’t know when or if Bundy is telling the truth or if he is just playing with Howard and goading him, but we see the madness in him and the love of inflicting pain.

 

Bundy says he feels an affinity with Howard, though it might just be that he chose him because he felt he could be manipulated. He is either trying to convince Howard that he is clinically insane to avoid the death penalty or just filling up his final hours having fun.

 

Writer Ken Varnold, formerly working in law enforcement, stated that one of the key areas he wanted to highlight is that both men feel they have been wronged by women in their lives, but both deal with it in dramatically different ways. The acting from both members of the two-man cast is spell-binding. These are Oscar-worthy performances.

 

Howard is an amalgam of various real officers who were involved in the case and the script is based around real meetings and interviews. The subject matter is fascinating. My only criticism is that I felt the script was slightly too long – though it is just over an hour - I felt at the end we were re-treading points already made earlier. At least for this venue and the heat in the tiny vault I felt it could benefit from being slightly truncated, but this is in no way a criticism of the talented actors or the production. In that respect, it is a masterpiece.

 

Bundy admitted to 30 murders. The FBI attributed 36 murders to him, but there is speculation that the real number – alluded to by Bundy himself – is over a hundred. He was executed in Starke, Florida on 24th January 1989, aged 42, in the electric chair.

 

Reviewed on 21st July 2017

Reviewed by Gray Freeman for North West End

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Hazel O’Connor, Breaking Glass. The Quays Theatre, the Lowry
 

This is an evening celebrating 35 years since the release of the iconic film, Breaking Glass, the Story of a new wave (post punk) band in the early Eighties, from their humble beginnings to their fifteen minutes of fame, to tragedy, break ups and inevitable break downs.  Hazel O’Connor starred in the film, as Kate, and was nominated for a BAFTA award and wrote/sang the soundtrack album. The evening will feature the film in its entirety (I wasn’t expecting that!) followed by a short question and answer session (or that!) and then the show: the whole of the breaking Glass album, in its entirety. (I was expecting that. The title of the tour sort of gave it away.)

1980. I remember the buzz around the film and its attendant singles when I was at school. Am I really that old? Let's move on...

Hazel comes out to introduce the film; she's now sixty and looking good... I know this because I put on my glasses to get a glimpse of her in focus. Short blonde hair, her most familiar look, but softer and more feminine than many of her early photographs.

The film also stars cheeky chappie, Phil Daniels, so young he's virtually a foetus. It's also literally peppered with soon-to-be-famous faces. Everyone you see is someone. I’m surprised by how funny it is in parts, such as the snapshots of band auditions, (“This is my sixty-third audition!”) but it also presents a stark vision of Thatcherite Britain, fascist riots and violence against a backdrop of urban decay, strikes and unemployment with a recurring theme of oppression. The lyrics to the songs capture the feeling of the times and are delivered with a sneering passion and aggression.

The film reaches its climax with the shattering Eighth Day which works brilliantly and is shot in a visually stunning manner, after which it ends quietly, but not for long, as there is a roar of applause and the house lights go up. Brilliant!
 

After a welcome toilet stop (we’re not as young as we used to be) the evening resumes with the question and answer session. Hazel sits on the stage and comes across as very warm, approachable and funny. She reacts to the questions with humour and bares her soul. She was choked when she just watched the end of the film, she says, because it was prophetic; it later happened to her. Though the end of the film, she explains, is actually supposed to convey a glimmer of hope, which I missed. The lyrics were written mainly within a week; she was accused at the time of being nihilistic, but yes she believes the lyrics are sadly as relevant today as ever.

 

Then it’s time for the gig. Now, if you came here wanting the music in the gig to replicate the film then you may be disappointed. Breaking Glass is locked in stasis; it speaks of and sounds like the very early Eighties: harsh post punk sounds with fledgling and experimental electronica. What we have here tonight is something quite different: a woman with a deep and matured voice still belting out these songs but in a pared back, reinvented, jazzy way. She is accompanied not by a full male band, as you might expect, but by two female musicians, Sarah on keyboards and Claire on sax, so they essentially form a Jazz Trio.

They open, as the film does, with Writing on the Wall, a spirited performance, strong vocals with Hazel affecting an aggressive, somewhat simian, strutting dance style. Let’s call it distinctive. The other songs follow, in film order, all different, but all good. When they’re half way through the list there is an interlude while they perform a moving song not from the album, I'll Give You My Sunshine, which Hazel explains, was written for her best friend, Joyce O’Connor: her mum, who died of cancer.

Back with the programme, the remaining songs follow, and with Hazel explaining some of the lyrics (Government White Papers and the killing of Blair Peach) they have even more resonance. The last two songs from the film are the two big hit singles. Will You is a melodic and beautifully nervous love song, perfectly performed and ending with a stirring sax solo. Last of all is Eighth Day, climactic and manic; the story of the universe in four minutes. Perfect. Some pop stars get sick of the songs that made them famous; Hazel O’Connor is best remembered for these two songs, her biggest hits; they are pretty good songs to be remembered by. 

 

An amazing evening.
 

Reviewed on:  30th November 2015

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COMMUNIST THREAT at The King’s Arms.

 

The King’s Arms is a quirky, old fashioned backstreet boozer/arty Bohemian hybrid, with a small theatre in the loft and an even smaller one in the cellar.

 

Communist Threat is a two man piece set in ‘Fifties Vienna in the Cold War. Shades of the Third Man, Film Noir and Cold War paranoia.

 

This is my first time to the cellar theatre. It’s referred to as The Vault. But it’s just a cellar. A pub cellar with beer barrels and a coal chute. However, don’t be put off; this unusual venue made the performance even more special. Down some steep stone steps, over a very rough flag floor into a small room, where one of the actors, Kieran O’Rourke, is already sitting, looking down at the floor. The audience sit on stools; by the time we are all in situ there are twelve of us. You may think that’s an appalling turn out, but there are only fifteen stools, so it’s four fifths full. This is Fringe… it’s intimate.

 

The second member of the cast, David Holmes, bellows from the corridor, enters the room (I have to move my knees to let him in) and closes the door. The performance is underway.

 

The two men work for different branches of the British Secret Service and have been brought together in Vienna to kill a traitor. They meet in the cellar of a five star hotel to make plans… but all is not as it seems…

 

Kieran O’Rourke plays Northern Albert. He is working class, down to earth and owns three suits. David Holmes plays Kip, upper class, patriotic, starchy and owns forty suits. Both perform their roles well, though for me it is O’Rourke who is captivating. No disrespect to Holmes, it’s just his character is somewhat staid and formal, a stiff upper lipped Englishman and not all that likeable, whereas O’Rouke has a familiar northern accent, one I wouldn’t associate with Vienna in the ‘Fifties; he delivers his lines in an easy and very natural way, which brings the character to life. We can relate to him, we like him, we trust him.

 

I can’t say too much about the plot, but there are twists and turns and then more twists. It is an interesting script, running for just under an hour. It looks at themes of patriotism (and love) and betrayal. I’m reminded of the quote by E.M. Forster:   “If I had to choose between betraying my country and betraying my friend, I hope I should have the guts to betray my country.” But that’s all I can say without issuing a Spoiler warning.

 

Despite the small audience the two man cast gave their all. You wouldn’t know they weren’t performing to a packed stadium, such is their conviction.  This close we can see every facial expression, every nuance and it is very compelling.

 

I was one of a dozen very appreciative people whom these two fine actors played to and I feel privileged to have seen this remarkable show.

 

Reviewed on:  13th July 2016

Star rating: FOUR

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BIG GIRLS DON’T CRY at SALE WATERSIDE

 

“Oh, what a night!”

 

Big Girls Don’t Cry is a tribute show to the Four Seasons, pop/doo wop/close harmony singing group who began in New Jersey in 1960 and became one of the best-selling musical acts of all time, with so many hits under their belts, it’s difficult to count and many more familiar as having been covered by other artists. The show is performed by the East Coast Boys and their four backing musicians, the East Coast Band.

 

Sale Waterside is an excellent venue, modern and bright and comfortable. The auditorium is modestly full. There is no announcement, the music starts and the lights go down. When the black curtains draw back, the four seasoned performers are already on stage, wearing red, green, blue and lilac jackets and ties and they launch into the title track, Big Girls Don’t Cry. The red suited front man sings in distinctive falsetto in the style famously used by Frankie Valli and the harmonies by the other three are incredibly good. The East Coast Boys look the part, they sound the part, but best of all are the tightly choreographed, perfectly timed dance moves that are captivating and easily conjure up the genuine Four Seasons. Immediately they have won the audience over.

 

Between songs they chat easily with the audience. They are in character as the original Four Seasons, Frankie Valli, Bob Gaudio, Tommy DeVito and Nick Massi and speak in an Italian inflected transatlantic drawl. They are immediately likeable and strike up an easy rapport with a very appreciative audience. They tell us they’ve played all over the world: “Boston, Chicago, New York… and Sale” which gets a hearty laugh.

 

Many hits follow: Let’s Hang On, Working My Way Back To You, Rag Doll and a stunning rendition of Silence is Golden. There are also obscure, older songs thrown in, such as Peanuts, which they released under the group name of The Wonder Who?  with frenzied squeaky backing vocals and a fast, furious and hilarious dance routine.

 

They tell the audience they had a walk around Sale and went into “a beautiful little bar owned by J.D. Wetherspoon” and into “a nice little deli called Greggs”, which elicits laughter and cheers from the audience… and to “the deer park, Dun-ham Massey” At each of these places they miraculously met women, who all shared names with their songs, as a tenuous but funny linking method.

 

One of the boys picks a lady in the audience and asked her name. “Jane” she says. “Marlena?” he replies. “No kiddin’! What a coincidence.” The poor woman is dragged up on stage and they sing Marlena at her; she responds incredibly well as they proceed to vie for her affections. Dawn and Marianne follow, then Sherry “our first number one”. All too soon it’s the end of the first half. As everyone files to the bar and the toilets there is a hum of conversation and everyone is impressed with the show, and the general consensus seems to be: “I didn’t know that was one of their songs.”

 

The second half opens with the boys in white jackets and black ties, renewed after a half of lager, perfectly performing more hits, including Walk Like A Man… with its incongruous falsetto lead vocal and hilariously camp routine… Why Do Fools Fall in Love and Beggin’. After a quick change they reappear in leather jackets and perform Grease, the title track from the film, which Frankie Valli performed originally as a solo artist, which is accompanied by another amazing dance routine.

 

As one audience member heads out to the bar, the guys cheekily ask him if he’ll get them a drink. Obligingly he comes back with a tray and four pints of lager which earned him a round of applause. (At the end of the encore he returns with four pints for the boys in the amazing backing band, which was a really nice and generous touch.)

 

The falsetto vocals of Frankie Valli aren’t to everyone’s  taste, in the same way that the Bee Gees aren’t. For me, the best moments are when all four are singing together and their voices blend perfectly. This isn’t just a front man with his three bland backing singers; they each sang perfectly and brought so much visual style, warmth and character.

 

The last song of the main part of the show is, appropriately, Bye Bye Baby, more associated with the later cover by the Bay City Rollers; the audience are encouraged to join in; people are dancing down at the stage and the whole auditorium is in raptures.

 

The encore features a medley of songs, with more tight vocals and captivating dancing. Then finally to end the show the classic December 1963 (Oh What A Night) which had everyone standing, singing, clapping and dancing. A truly memorable song, a truly memorable finale to a truly memorable show. Everyone came away buzzing.

 

If you like the Four Seasons you should go and see this show. If you don’t like them you should probably go anyway, because it’s a great night out, the dancing is mesmerising and you probably know a lot more of the songs than you think. If it was on again tonight I’d go straight back, because this show has a feel good factor of ten.

 

Reviewed on:  10th June 2016

Star rating: FOUR

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‘How To be A Man’ at the Kings Arms, Salford

(Part of the Manchester Fringe Festival)

I was quite surprised when the star of this one man show, Jon M Coleman, appeared at the door of the upper theatre at the Kings Arms in his undies to sell tickets. I didn't know where to look... only where not to look. In the auditorium Walk Like A Man by the Four Seasons was playing on a loop. On the stage there was an inflatable doll in a big wig wearing a football strip… OK. A mannequin dressed in a shirt and tie... OK. Both typical male uniforms…  And hanging in the middle a red spangly evening dress....
 

Jon comes onto the stage... Complete with pants. The first thing he tells us is that this show will fail. He pauses. He surveys his audience. It’s intense and uncomfortable. He really sounds like he means it. “It will fail because… while we may walk away tonight with an answer, it won't be the answer.”  Profound. In pants.
 

He's privileged, he tells us... Not, as you might expect, to be here performing for us (in a state of partial undress) but because he's a middle class, heterosexual, white male: the most privileged of the privileged groups. He loves being privileged and he enjoys all that comes with it, though he also seems to feel guilty, as we live in a patriarchal society where women earn less than men. Except for strippers, apparently. Female strippers earn far more than male strippers. (He doesn’t say this, but I think that’s because men go to see female strippers to lust after them, whereas women go to see male strippers to laugh at them. So no equality there.)

We are introduced to Jon’s two companions, who – thanks to the magic of Dictaphones – will assist him with the show. The footballing inflatable doll in a wig is called Leo and the tie-wearing mannequin is called Manfred.

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Jon slips the spangly red dress on and bemoans the fact that people stare when a man walks down the street wearing traditionally female clothes. He is forced to remove the dress after a ribbing from Manfred and Leo. Unfortunately the acoustics for the Dictaphones aren’t great, but we’re still able to make most of it out.

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Jon talks us through a step by step guide to how to give the perfect man hug (remember to keep the faces apart and always slap or punch the back). He later assumes the role of a barber, shaving poor Manfred, who reveals he is undergoing a sex change and discloses all the upset it has caused... It starts out surreal and ends up rather sad.
 

The bizarre climax of the show has Jon losing his temper (very convincingly) and wrecking the props on the stage… Leo and Manfred don’t come off too well… Although it isn’t stated, I thought this was clever, as men lose their temper and get angry and sometimes get violent.

There is more truth and science in this piece than there is comedy. Jon’s website claims the show “aims to explore the crisis of masculinity… male privilege and gender identity”. I was expecting an hour of comedy making fun of men, male rituals and so on, but instead this is challenging, thought-provoking, poignant and sometimes sad. There is humour in it, but I wouldn’t call it a comedy.

 

Whether you agree with what he’s saying or not, Jon M Coleman delivers his message earnestly, with gusto, with conviction. He is a confident and likeable performer and very engaging; he makes you listen. He’s a top man.

 

Reviewed on: 26th July 2016

Star rating: 3

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Playing Dead at Chapter One Books (Fringe)

 

 

Walking from Piccadilly station along Dale Street in the Northern Quarter of town, I was impressed by just how magnificent most of the old mills and warehouses are… then I came to Chatsworth House. Don’t be fooled by the name, this isn’t a grand stately home, but something of a grey, mid-Seventies eyesore; an anachronism amongst the other older, finer buildings of this part of town. But inside on the ground floor is Chapter One Books, which I’ve passed many times but never noticed, and which is a hidden gem, a secret space where you can meet friends and drink coffee, or get away from friends and relax alone with a pot of leaf tea and a delicious cake, including vegan and gluten free options. It’s pleasing and pleasant and calming, a little haven of tranquillity in a bustling city.

 

The small theatre adjoins the bookshop. It is a bright, open space. There are white drapes at the wide windows. The walls are whitewashed, the furniture is white. Most theatres are dark, but this is the opposite. There is a stone balustrade skirting the small stage and potted shrubs dotted about. It looks like we’ve come to witness a wedding service.

 

There are only twenty something people, but by Fringe standards that’s a fair amount. It becomes apparent that this is a read through and the team will have scripts in hand and would welcome feedback. It is about government cuts to disability benefits.

 

Lisa is a professional woman struck down with ME; she has been totally incapacitated by the illness in the past, but is somewhat better at the moment, but her outlook on life is very negative. Her sister-in-law, Maria, is kind and helpful and is supportive and enthusiastic about Maria’s future. Oh, and Lisa is interested in the Fey, that’s fairies and spirits to you and me. This piece of information will make sense later. Sort of.

 

The script is poignant in parts, as Lisa’s condition is very real, no one disputes that she has a debilitating condition and she is genuinely suffering, but it becomes difficult to be sympathetic towards her as she seems to have labelled herself as unfit for work and sick, and pours cold water on all Maria’s positivity. Because of this she sometimes comes across as self-pitying, defeatist and wallowing in her illness; this is very likely how you would feel, but I’m not sure this is the intention.

 

Maria is the antithesis of Lisa; hopeful, encouraging, supportive and kind, genuinely concerned, but unable to get through to Lisa, who has effectively written off her own future. For people with long term illnesses it’s very common to feel like this, to feel overwhelmed, defeated, paranoid and overlooked, so it is a very real portrayal.

 

There is a scene where Lisa faces her benefits assessor, which is very entertaining. It’s the downtrodden versus the oppressor. That’s how it’s intended to come across. It is both well-observed, humorous in parts and tragic in others, but it makes a point. Unfortunately, I felt it made a point like a sledgehammer. There is very little subtlety and I felt it started to become a one-sided rant rather than looking at different sides to the argument. However, I’m guessing this is written by someone who has first-hand experience of how dehumanising and demoralising this type of process can be.

 

So far it’s all been set in the real world, with very real situations and very real politics, then, for reasons I won’t go into (to protect the plot) Lisa finds herself in the Realm of the Fey, what is basically the world of the fairies. This is possibly all hallucinatory; it isn’t really made clear. I didn’t like this at all. I thought it was long winded and tedious and detracted from the seriousness of the theme, trivialising the issues that were being explored.

 

However, Lisa’s experiences with the Fey serve to give her the breakthrough she needs, to show her she must fight and stand up to the wrong that the Conservative government is doing to sick people. The play ends with what is essentially a rallying call to the audience to join them and stand shoulder to shoulder to fight this oppression. Hurray!

 

There are some very real issues here, and many more issues than this play addresses. These are issues clearly close to the writer’s heart, and to at least one of the cast, as the actor playing Lisa emotionally revealed at the end that this was in memory of her friend, Dawn, who sadly died recently.

 

All three actresses emoted well and considering they were holding a script, were convincing, they worked hard and I think they successfully managed to convey a lot of emotion.

 

Personally, and it is just a personal preference, I don’t care for fantasy, and I felt the fantasy elements went on too long and were quite out of place and really detracted from the seriousness of the subject matter, trivialising it in many ways. 

 

So my opinion is somewhat mixed. It presented an interesting and valid point of view, but was quite one sided; it was credibly enacted and staged in a beautiful venue. With cake. For a work in progress I would say there is room for improvement.

 

 

Reviewed on:  21st July 2016 for NWE

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Scripts Aloud: Two plays, Two Ways at the King’s Arms

(Part of the Manchester Fringe Festival)

Scripts Aloud is a monthly event organised by Manchester Acting Directing Partnership, where new writers have their scripts read by actors, script in hand, after usually just a few hours rehearsal. This time, to add a twist for the Manchester Fringe Festival, two plays are being given two different treatments by different actors and directors. The theatre is packed to the rafters and there is an electrifying buzz in the air.

First up is Trees of Nature by Nicholas Ridley, directed by Daniel Bradford. Daisy and Simon address the audience directly, each relating their perspective of their nearly-romance-that-wasn't-quite. It's a bittersweet tale that highlights the differences between the sexes. Alice Procter excels at the moments when Daisy is indignant, offended and hurt and Darren Jeffries is completely engaging as Simon with his casual and realistic northern portrayal. It is a simple and touching story, which left me feeling quite reflective at the end.

Second, we have something quite different. Adam and Eve and Steve by Sean Fee, directed by Amy Liptrott. This is an alternative take on the Garden of Eden story. Adam is an athletic He-Man. Actually, the very first one. He enjoyed his time in the Garden with his best friend Steve, and then God went and created Eve from Adams spare rib. Steve resents Eve and feels pushed out and Eve is so wound up in herself that she barely acknowledges Steve’s existence. The cast are all fantastic. Sophie Giddens really captures Eve’s flighty nature and self-importance; Danny Solomon is Alpha male Adam; Kris Hitchen is hilarious as the whining, put-upon talking snake, Keith, and Sylvia Robson adds the booming voice of God. The performances are faultless and there are plenty of laughs, including some witty anachronisms (Kinder Bueno!) Spoiler alert: they get expelled from the Garden of Eden in the end, because of an incident involving a forbidden fruit.

During the brief intermission I wonder how the next sets of actors and directors can possibly improve on these versions… and surely coming second is going to seem like a watered down repeat?

Round two. Trees of Nature is this time directed by Kayleigh Hawkins. There are subtle differences: the portrayal of Simon by Ethan Holmes comes across as more brash and laddish, accentuating the different perceptions of the two people and their relationship. Sophie Coward as Daisy displays a youthful enthusiasm and is clearly besotted with Simon. (Why Daisy? You can do so much better!) This time I felt sorry for Daisy and a bit hostile towards Simon... He didn't lead her on, but he was insensitive and thoughtless. Again, it is very poignant and touching at the end.

Then we're back to Adam and Eve and Steve, directed by Rose Van Leyenhorst. Only three performers this time, multi-tasking all the way. Amy Drake, Matthew Gordon and Sam Redway wring out the comedy for all they're worth. The bromance between Adam and Steve is conveyed by a priceless, lingering look between the two of them. Keith the talking snake is now a sock puppet, played at various times by each member of the cast. Keith even sheds his skin and changes his sock colour, which is hilarious and so well executed. Brilliant comedy timing and huge performances, but they still end up getting expelled from the Garden of Eden.

Both plays and all four performances were amazing. Incredible acting, natural dialogue, genuine laugh-out-loud comedy, pathos and some lovely singing by the Daisys. I really cannot say which version I preferred, though the second pair, I think, contrary to what I’d previously thought, benefited from the audience already by that point being familiar with the stories.

 

There followed a discussion with the writers and directors, which was fascinating and gave a real insight into the creation of these two very different, but equally excellent short plays. A highly original and memorable evening.

 

Reviewed on:  25th July 2016

Star rating: FIVE

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The Importance of Being Earnest @ the Lowry

 

 

The Lyric Theatre at the Lowry is packed to the rafters… and no wonder. What a star studded cast; I don’t think I’ve ever seen a show with so many famous names and familiar faces. Nigel Havers plays Algernon, an idle rich gent; Martin Jarvis is Jack, a rich gent, but possibly less idle (Don’t worry, everyone in this is rich) Sian Phillips is the “gorgon” aunt, Lady Bracknell, who gets to deliver the immortal line “A handbag!” which she pulls off impeccably.

 

Oscar Wilde’s farcical comedy was first performed in 1895 in London. It was subtitled “A serious comedy for trivial people”, which pretty much sums up the characters, and described as “a lampoon on Victorian society”. It’s also Wilde’s most famous and most quotable play.

 

“To lose one parent may be regarded as a misfortune; to lose both looks like carelessness.”

 

The set is amazingly detailed and lavish, a plush country house interior; even before the players appear every inch of the set provides something interesting to look at. When Nigel Havers strolls out I’m immediately struck by his bright red Nike (other brands are available) trainers, an eye jarring anachronism, but it quickly becomes apparent that the farcical complications of the original play are further complicated because additional material by writer and broadcaster, Simon Brett, has the whole show as a rehearsal for a stage play; I’m not too sure what the purpose of this framing device is, except that it does provide a few additional metatexual laughs and nods to the audience. (Look out for Havers’ wink.)

 

“In matters of grave importance, style, not sincerity, is the vital thing.”

 

The first thing to note is that Ernest, as punned in the title, is a made up character; Jack and then Algernon assume the name as they try to woo the women of their dreams; each of the women will only marry a man called Ernest. Wilde is gently mocking the concepts of love and marriage… Well, who doesn’t? His wit is sharp and stands the test of time; some lines are hilarious.

 

“If I am occasionally over dressed, I make up for it by always being over educated.”

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The cast are all experienced and a sheer delight to watch. One of the best scenes is a meeting between Carmen du Sautoy and Christine Kavanagh as Gwendoline and Cecily respectively, who snipe at each other in a mannered fashion, their put downs, their body language, their prowling cat like movements and indignant intonations are a joy to behold: beautifully timed, beautifully acted.  

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The show is perhaps slightly longer that I would prefer, but it is genuinely funny, witty and clever, farcical, ludicrous and very entertaining. Some believe Wilde’s original had a homosexual subtext, but if there’s one here it’s well hidden… possibly in a closet.

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“The truth is rarely pure and never simple.”

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It is generally accepted this is Wilde’s best play, his most famous and indeed infamous, as it actually saw the start of his downfall. During the original run, Lord Queensbury, the father of Wilde’s gay lover, intended to throw a wreath of rotting vegetables onto the stage in protest at Wilde allegedly seducing his son. Wilde sued Lord Queensbury for libel, and in the proceedings inadvertently managed to “out” himself, leading to a series of trials for his homosexuality. He was found guilty of gross indecency and sentenced to two years hard labour. Upon his release he left the country, never to return.

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Wilde died in Paris in1900, aged 46, destitute and in disgrace. Earnest didn’t die; to this day the play is alive and well, and 120 years old this year. Many happy returns.

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Reviewed on:  6th October 2015 for NWE.

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Westcoast:

Celebrating the Good Vibrations of the Beach Boys

@ the Palace Theatre

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I intentionally didn’t Google Westcoast before the show. I like the Beach Boys and I expected a tribute act looking vaguely like the Beach Boys and singing Beach Boys songs, hopefully quite well. That wasn’t exactly what I got… and when the first song began I was bitterly disappointed. Five blokes came out and sang; their only concession to looking remotely like the Beach Boys were their striped shirts. They were singing well, but were performing a dance routine, almost mime, more akin to The Four Seasons. This wasn’t the Beach Boys, who were a band who played instruments and sang in close harmony.  

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If I had Googled Westcoast and looked on their website I’d have seen their declaration: “We don’t like the word tribute. We celebrate the wonderful music of the Beach Boys in our own style”. And that they certainly did. By the time the first song was half way through I had completely adjusted my opinion. I was totally won over. The dance moves were actually hilariously entertaining, in fact quite captivating; the performers all had great voices, great timing and were immensely engaging. My only criticism was that the seemingly helium charged high register vocals of Liam Lakin were more akin to Frankie Valli than any of the Wilson brothers, but he still had a good voice. They really threw themselves into every song and routine and their enthusiasm was hypnotic.

 

The pace was fast and the songs flew by; all the favourites were there: California Girls, I Get Around, Surfin’ USA, Good Vibrations. There was plenty of humour, both in the representation of the songs, a bit of banter (“We’re often associated with sun, sea and sensational women… just like Manchester”) and bizarrely watching the group harmonising whilst also shifting the sets around.

 

The audience loved Westcoast; it was an evening of pure entertainment. Quite touchingly, after the final encore the five of them, Liam, Jonathan, Paul, Stuart and James, all raced to the foyer and stood at the doors saying goodbye and chatting. They caught me off guard or I would have told them how much I had enjoyed their show. It was fun, fun, fun all the way.

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Reviewed on:  27th September 2015

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